Wish You Were Sober.

Frank’s POV
“Frank, you better take this one,” Ray muttered, passing me on his way to the bus. I grunted, making my way towards a cluster of people near the bushes. I caught snippets of conversation as I made my way towards the centre of the huddle.
“...think he’s dead,” someone muttered.
“Fuckin’ crack head.” I shoved the last person aside and saw exactly what I wished I hadn’t. Gerard was sprawled on the concrete face down. For a moment I thought the same as the crowd; that he was really dead this time. Then he gurgled, and moaned, and I rolled my eyes and sank to my knees beside him.
“Gerard, c’mon, you have to get up now,” I coaxed, voice wavering. Didn’t he realise that every time he got like this he broke my heart?
“F-ank? Frankie, hey,” he slurred, rolling over... onto me. I lost my balance under him and sank lower on my knees. I sighed, and pushed some of the hair out of his eyes. Now it was clear Gerard wasn’t dead, the crowd had dispersed to find something better to watch. He smirked up at me, his eyes rolling back into his head and his mouth moving without making sounds.
“Love you Frankie,” he mumbled, his words slurring together. Yeah, he always loved me when he was drunk and barely talked to anyone when he was sober.
“I love you too Gerard, but... just wish you’d realise what that meant,” I muttered back. He poked his tongue out, or maybe lolled it, I couldn’t be sure, and turned to bury his head against me. Unfortunately his delicate little face just happened to brush against my crotch and me breathing hitched and I seized his hair in my fingers. I hadn’t decided whether I was going to push his head towards or away from me yet.
“Mmm Fraaaankie, my hair,” he moaned, vibrations against my thigh.
“G-Gerard... you’re drunk,” I whispered, knowing this was wrong.
“N’m not Frankie, I want you. I want this... baby,” he giggled, trying to prop himself up on his elbows. I sighed, leaning down and kissing him, just to feel his lips on mine He shakily lifted himself up and onto my lap, straddling my waist and forcing his tongue into my mouth. I could feel his erection growing in his baggy, khaki pants, and that was all the incentive I needed to get things moving. I dragged him to the hotel room, wanting privacy from the guys. He slammed me against the bed, pawing at his clothes and wavering on his feet a little. He held his arms out to me, and I rolled my eyes before getting up and helping him take his clothes off. When we were both naked, he took control again, the cheeky little smirk returning. He swaggered towards me, tripping and falling flat on his face. He got up, stumbling wildly and giggling like mad.
“Ready babe?” He asked, and then pushed in anyway. It’s a good thing I loved him. He began thrusting in hard and fast right from the start, too focused on getting himself off to see if I was enjoying it or not. I didn’t care; I’d take what I could get from him.
“G-Frank, close,” he grunted, and I saw stars as he hit my prostate dead on.

I woke up in utter bliss. “Morning,” I mumbled to Gerard as he stretched next to me.
“Hey frank... did we get drunk last night? That why we’re here?” He asked me. I frowned and then nodded.
“Yeah, Gee, nothing more. We got drunk and stuff.”
“Oh, cool. See you at the bus Frank,” he muttered, closing the hotel door behind him
“I love you,” I whispered to the closed door and the rumpled sheets.