Repose

"Fuck..." Frank turned his head towards the noise and a hill rose through the gloom. "Mmn...ouch..." The figure writhed, trying to find a space in the crowded bed. Frank tapped his cigarette against the ash tray cradled between his thighs and waited for the rustling to fade.

"That you, Gerard?" He asked, because he probably should.

"Yeah..." Of course it was. "What you doing up?"

"Smoking. Want one?" Gerard perked up then. He rose and straightened clumsily and leant across the bed to take the lighter and fag that Frank handed him.

"Fanks." The fag wobbled between his lips and he lit it. The bed was captured in a flash picture Frank did not want to see. The lighter clicked off and the night fell into shadow for a little longer.

"Really needed this. Crazy night, huh?" Frank raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah. Sure is..." They both sucked on their cigarettes in the silence. "If by crazy you mean totally fucked up."

Gerard laughed as only someone who wanted something to be fucked up could.

"My head hurts," he said suddenly. Gerard had a way of doing that; that thing where he just exclaimed little out-loud thoughts whether the room gave a fuck or not. There was only one person awake in the room and he certainly didn't give one.

"Yeah? My ass hurts. My thighs hurt. My throat hurts and my head also hurts. It's too fucking bad." A pause. Frank wondered what the thought was.

"You said you were okay with it," Gerard said, adjusting his position.

"That's right," Frank mocked. "Make sure you can take absolutely no blame before going ahead with your selfish little experiments. As long as I said I was okay your conscience is clean. Seriously, Gerard, just make me sign a fucking contract next time, right?"

"Right, Frank..." Gerard leaned across the sleeping man in the middle of them to drop ash in the tray between Frank's legs.

"Why'd you have to use that voice, Gerard?" Frank knew he was whining now, but why should he care? He just watched his boyfriend be fucked by another man and then been fucked himself - if he wanted to whine and bitch then he'd do it. "Your no bull-shit voice."

"I only have one voice, Frank." Sounding stupid by trying to sound clever. It was almost as bad as covering his dirt with 'experiences'.

"So you never give a shit then? You're just stuck on cocky prick by default?"

A sigh.

"I don't get you, Frank," Gerard said easily. Everything about Gerard was easy. Last night showed Frank that more than anything.

"You get me whenever you want. You could bend me over the fucking trash cans in alley ways and I'd probably let you," Frank spat with sad honesty.

"I wouldn't do that." Gerard sounded confident in his ability to have some fucking limits. Frank wanted to vomit in his face.

"But you'll let your best friend and boyfriend suck you off at the same time. Classy." Frank mashed the cigarette into the ash tray. Perhaps too violently. Or maybe he was pretending to be squashing Gerard's dick into a useless lump.

"Why did you agree to it then, Frank?" Gerard said and his hands thrust at the air. Frank was sick of seeing him thrust things. "If all you're gonna do is sit and seethe and regret why the fuck didn't you back out?"

Frank couldn't believe he had to answer and did so very red. "Maybe it has something to do with, when I said no about the tenth time, you couldn't have sex without sighing and folding your arms and looking bored. When I was fucking trying to come you were checking your text messages! I mean, you absolute dick! I was trying to come!" Frank checked himself before he got stuck on a loop. "I thought if I gave in to your bleedin' fetish then..."

"Then, what....you'd come?" Hint of a snort. Frank frowned. "You came last night," he stated quietly - dangerously.

"Tonight, Gerard. not last night," Frank hissed. It annoyed him that Gerard had slept and he hadn't.

"I don't give a fuck. You enjoyed it, Frank. Don't lie and try to twist this round on me, 'cause I never made you do something you didn't want to. You're on these sheets as much as we are. If you're trying to make this out as cheating... well, you fucked him too." Gerard waved his cigarette over the man. It was just a lump of covers to Frank, who wanted to believe he could just squash it flat and crawl closer to Gerard. He ground his knuckles into the mattress.

"I enjoyed the sex, Gerard. And I enjoyed coming...with you. In the same bed as you. I fucking thought..." But it didn't matter what he'd thought. "Why can't you just admit this was a shit idea?"

"I never said it was a good idea." Groans. A flush of frustrated air from Frank's nose.

"You must have thought it was a better idea than me." Pause. Yeah, Frank let him think that one over. "Just me. No - just us, Gerard. Right here, in this bed, before you even dreamed up this kink. Just us...touching and fucking and screaming and... does that not sound good enough to you?"

Silence and Gerard's face tensed in pain. "It sounds perfect." Frank put the ash tray on the dresser and crossed his legs beneath the hot sheets.

"Bull shit, you pathetic dick."

"Frank, we-"

"Who is we, Gerard? Me and you? You and him? All three of us?" Completely coincidently, they both looked down at the man in the middle of them and he shifted onto his back.

"Will it never be the same, then?" Gerard whispered, as if he suddenly cared about waking the man. Frank did not want to answer in case he told the truth.

"I haven't slept, Gerard. I've just lain awake thinking how much I'm missing you. You - when it was just us in that we."

"There's nothing I can do." He wasn't telling Frank. He was telling himself. He was hopeless. Frank shook his head in agreement.

"No." His voice was soft and liberated.

"I'm still confused. Why did you do it? You could have just not done it. I would have got over it."

"How was I supposed to know you'd get over it?"

Gerard didn't answer for a moment and then shrugged. "It was just a kink."

"That's like saying it was just sex. It never is."

"It's not like I thought it'd fuck things up..." Back on the defence - as always. Frank sometimes felt as if he was reasoning with an iron visor when he spoke to Gerard.

"It's not like I did either."

The man between them grunted and one of his legs touched Frank's. Frank looked at him in distaste. Gerard still looked at Frank.

"What do we do then?" His eyes were searching Frank's imploringly for answers or resolve. He just shrugged. He wasn't anymore used to this sort of break-up than Gerard was. His thoughts cringed away from the word. Breaking up with Gerard was a foreign, un-welcome idea and his mind scrambled to lock it away. "Will you see differently in the morning?"

Frank heard the bubble of hope and didn't want to burst it.

"I'm not sure." Gerard smiled sadly. He heard the truth and his little bubble exploded with an imaginary pop. He leaned over the man between them and kissed Frank, who closed his eyes - tight - and wished the night was gone already, or had not even begun. Gerard pulled away before Frank had even contemplated input.

"What you doing, then?" Gerard asked as Frank gratefully slid out of the bed and searched for his spare clothes he left at Gerard's.

"I'm gonna go home," Frank eventually answered, only when he had to tie his shoelaces. He sat on the very rim of the bed. The ash tray was in Gerard's lap now, who had started puffing on cigarette two of the night, the half-pack in waiting beside him. Frank pecked his cheek and stood up to walk, heavy, to the bedroom door. "See if I can get some sleep..."

"I thought you loved me." A small voice. Much too small for the bold comment. Frank paused. It was not a question - just a statement.

"I do." He only sounded half-surprised by his own answer. He rubbed at his neck and stared at the door, flush against the darkness. "It's just love, Gerard. It's still got boundaries, you know? Like everything else."

"So, m'guessing last night was one of 'em?"

"It must have been." Frank turned back into the room. "I do love you, Gerard. And I guess you love me. But you'll love a lot more people in the future. Just like me." Gerard looked on blankly, chain-smoking like a fucking chimney at Christmas.

"I don't think you're talking about love, Frank." His face wrinkled and drew inwards with a lungful of tar. He blew out deeply. "Love is special."

"Lots of things are special. Kids are special. Doesn't mean people only have one once. Anyway..." Frank dipped his chin, like a shy twelve-year old. "If love is special, what the fuck was last night?"

"...More complicated than I ever wanted." Gerard admitted. Frank stepped closer to the bed. Gerard was pressing his fingertips into little pockets of ash.

"I do love you, Gerard. You know how I know?" Gerard looked up, as Frank had hoped. "If there was anyone I'd do anything for...it'd be you."

"But there's no one is there?" Frank smiled sheepishly and shook his head. "You only knew tonight?"

"Yes."

"I would have understood." Frank smiled more.

"I know you would."

For a moment or three they let the night drag on, hands pocketed or fiddling with ash. "You should go get some sleep, Frank. You're tired."

Frank left the bedroom smiling and nodding, sliding his car keys from the dresser. He took one last look of Gerard wrapped up in a swirl of smoke and the unconscious lump beside him. No, he would not feel differently in the morning, but it still meant a lot that Gerard noticed he was tired.