Olive Juice and Elephant Shoes

The airport is a ghost town at three in the morning when Gerard finally finishes his soggy cup of stale coffee, eyes wandering towards the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing out at the milky haze of a snowstorm. In the distance he thinks he can almost see lights, planes, runways, but it's all lost in the snow and hail and wind, and in that moment Gerard knows they aren't leaving tonight.

It was Frank's idea to fly out yesterday, Gerard suddenly remembers, because, if he remembers correctly, this way they could get to California early and have a couple of hours to kill in San Francisco before taking their rental car up north to see Frank's retired parents for the holiday. Gerard wanted to leave days earlier so they could have entire days to kill, have their own little vacation first, but Frank put up an argument until they both begrudgingly agreed on today. Gerard's eyes wander around the almost empty terminal and he thinks bitterly, merry Christmas.

Outside of the window, Gerard can see a flight get canceled, people getting off the plane going to Dallas Fortworth that they just boarded half an hour ago. He's got his feet crossed Indian style, forming a bowl of space for Frank to rest his head in, and when he finally looks back down at Frank, sleeping and curled up on his side across the thin black leather seats, he starts to feel a bit better about the whole canceled flight and whispered argument.

Frank's neck curls awkwardly over Gerard's thigh so his head can fall halfway onto Gerard's crotch as his curled spine rises and falls with his breathing. He's doing the awkward thing Gerard secretly adores where he slides his hands between his thighs and unconsciously cups his crotch to keep his hands warm, while a bead of drool slips out from the edge of his lips and stains Gerard's jeans. When a wisp if hair falls out from behind his ear and over his lidded eye, Gerard touches his forehead and tucks the hair back out of the way for him, starting to feel that sort of warm feeling of love and guilt again.

Maybe he shouldn't have gotten mad, he thinks. Frank isn't a storm god that punches a hole in the clouds, slamming hailstorms down onto the tri-state area, cleverly timing the storm to coincide with their flight time. Frank also can't predict the future all that well, so maybe Gerard sending all of his frustration in Frank's direction the second he saw their departure time flash into a big, red blinking CANCELED on the flight times screen, was just a little uncalled for.

Frank stirs underneath his touch and his hand freezes on Frank's ear, feeling an old almost closed ear piercing hole from Frank's old days of a million piercings and tattoos. Gerard sees Frank's eyelids begin to twitch, his lips closing with a low mumbling noise in his throat. Gerard watches him move around in a sort of half-sleep state, and he begins to feel better already.

Gerard would never tell Frank in a million years that he enjoys watching him sleep. Not the stubborn, wary, almost obnoxious, master distributor of silent treatment-Frank. Besides, Gerard thinks, Frank's face is peaceful despite the bad mood he fell asleep in. He looks comfortable even on Gerard's lap, and it reminds Gerard of how he looks when he watches him fall asleep after sex. Gerard thinks about how when Frank was dozing off he was sitting up, arms tucked underneath his armpits, facing in the opposite direction, trying to deliberately shun Gerard away. But as he began to actually fall asleep, Gerard simply watched, contented, as his head began to loll, his spine beginning to droop. As the tone of his breathing slipped into a soft, unnoticeable snore, Gerard just sipped his coffee, not bothering to try and stop Frank's body from falling into him, slumping against his shoulder then sliding down into his open lap, dead asleep within ten minutes.

Frank always sleeps well after any kind of drama, Gerard realizes. The bickering tires him out, yelling leaving him voiceless. Gerard can feel a small ball of guilt in his stomach for even dumping the whole this-is-all-your-fault bullshit onto the guy in the first place. But the aftereffect of Frank using him as a pillow even though he was trying to ignore Gerard when he was awake before is priceless. Frank isn't built for fighting even if he is the most stubborn and temperamental guy ever, Gerard thinks. And it kind of reminds Gerard why he loves the dude in the first place.

Frank makes another sound in his sleep and Gerard feels his head nudge against his crotch. Gerard looks down at Frank's closed eyelids, occasionally flicking and shifting as Frank's brain slowly lifts out of a dream and into consciousness. Gerard rotates the empty coffee cup in his hand and looks over at the flight time monitors. Their next available flight isn't for another six hours and the storm outside is still going at full blast. Frank will wake up in a few seconds and will probably be grumpy when he sees that they still have hours left of waiting. Gerard knows that even when Frank is bad at arguing, he is great at keeping grudges, and even when Gerard knows that Frank will wake up in a bad mood, Gerard still feels alright.

Outside the wind is kicking up, and over the intercom, a lady's voice is saying that the flight to Washington is now boarding first class, two terminals over. Out of the corner of his eye, Gerard can see a man in a suit sprint to rush to his flight, as an entire crowd of people are forming at a terminal in the distance to board a flight to Hawaii. Every part of the airport feels busy and cramped, and when Gerard looks around at their almost empty terminal, he feels a sense of comfort. Frank hums a direct noise of awake now and Gerard looks down at his eyes dragging open.

"Morning princess," Gerard says flatly as Frank finally moves. Gerard suddenly feels an absence, a sort of emptiness of warmth as Frank's head finally leaves his lap. Frank eyes click open and he sits up as abruptly as he can in his half awake state, squeezing his eyes shut and opening them wide again and again as he adjusts to being back to consciousness.

"...What," is all Frank can say and it doesn't even sound like a question. Gerard sort of quietly observes him shifting his weight around, staring blankly into the distance from behind his squinty, lidded eyes and stiffened, sleepy glare. His hair has shifted and molded into the curve of Gerard's thigh, making it stick up the back, and curl into a crooked, awkward pompadour, while a big red-pink crease from sleeping against Gerard's jeans has sunken into his cheek.

"You fell asleep on me," Gerard tells him nonchalantly then sticks his thumb into his mouth and touches it to the side of Frank's lips and cheek, feeling kind of like a mom for doing it.

"You got shit on your face," Gerard says when Frank Flinches and tries to get away.

"Mnuh," Frank garbles in defiance, before turning away to wipe at his own face with the sleeve of his hoodie.

"Feel any better?" Gerard asks, watching as Frank scrubs his face with his hands, slowly draping out his cramped legs to stretch. Frank stops moving at the sound of Gerard's voice and moves his palms to just cover up his eyes so he can still talk from behind his hands.

"You called me a pussy tree-hugging dickmouth," Frank says flatly, and Gerard can see his eyes slowly move towards his direction.

Gerard closes his lips and brings his coffee quickly up to his mouth to take a sip, pretending like he doesn't already know there are only mere drops left, and those drops are cold and stale anyway.

"Because if we left tomorrow, we would've had the rental car for a shorter amount of time, so we would have saved gas," Frank goes on, staring dully at the coffee stand, not caring if Gerard responds or not. "And money, too."

"Huh," is all Gerard can muster. The last drops of coffee taste like ass, but he's developed a good poker face for coping with shitty coffee at this point in his life.

"You knew it was a good idea," Frank says, now looking down at Gerard's empty, soggy cup. He pauses for a moment before his eyes move back up to Gerard to give him a blunt look. Gerard can see Frank's arms crossing over his chest, out of the corner of his eye.

"You just don't ever want to admit that you're wrong."

Gerard stares very hard at a wall, making eye contact with every person near him except for Frank.

"There isn't even any coffee left in that," Frank says lowly to the back of Gerard's turned head.

"Huh?" Gerard turns back to Frank finally, pretending like he was distracted. He nearly jumps when he feels Frank's hand slap down on his, wrenching the coffee cup out of his hand and nearly ripping the Styrofoam in the process.

"This isn't Starbucks," Frank states, and Gerard can feel the anger floating back up into the air like invisible steam already.

"No, it's not...Good observation," Gerard says back in a vaguely snarky tone, even though he's not even sure what direction this is going in. He's about to even roll his eyes when Frank's snaps his head up at him, that bad temper rolling back onto his face. Gerard flinches in the tiniest, subtlest way possible, expecting to get punched or something, but all Frank does is sit up, suddenly so full of energy, and hold the cup out in front of Gerard's face.

"Starbucks' cups are one-hundred percent recycled material," Frank states very matter-of-factly, and Gerard wonders if he knows he sounds like a commercial.

"Yeah?" Gerard says, shrugging a bit, even though he knows what he's done wrong. The past five years he's been with Frank, Gerard has learned more about environmental friendliness and green science and O-Zone layer depletion than the one environmental science class he was forced to take in high school ever taught him. He's got used to being prodded into buying reusable water bottles instead of water bottles out of vending machines, turning off the lights every time he left the room, and in a secret, quiet way, he thought it just made Frank that much cuter. Only now was he beginning to realize how the more years he spent with Frank, the less leash length Frank was going to give him with cheating.

Frank's eyes widen for just a second in a sort of flare-up of rage, before his entire expressions tightens back into an angry pout.

"You yell at me after I give you fucking good advice," Frank grits his teeth, his face inching closer to Gerard's while he holds up the edge of the rim of the Styrofoam cup with just his thumb and index finger. The movements are subtle and small, but Gerard grips onto the metal armrest and tries to inch away anyway, unsure of what Frank is going to do next, unsure if Frank is going to smack him or not.

"Then you go and drink this shit behind my back..." Frank goes on, gripping the cup even harder, his eyes burning into Gerard's. He stares at Gerard for a while before finally getting to the point.

"So, what do you think?" Frank finishes darkly. "You think I feel better?"

"You were asleep, so I just figured..." Gerard says almost softly then regrets it because he's not even sure where he was going with that.

Frank flares up in the littlest way again, before crunching the cup in his hand. Gerard flinches, thinking it's going to hit him in the face, but instead, Frank suddenly wrenches his arm to throw it in the direction of the nearby garbage can.

"So I guess you just do whatever the fuck you please, as long as your annoying hippie boyfriend isn't looking, right?" Frank says, the sleepy grumble finally leaving his voice.

"Hey!" Gerard starts, his own voice rising, as he points a finger at Frank. He can hear how loud they sound in comparison to the silence of the rest of their terminal, and it makes him go back to the same whispering tone they had when they were fighting before.

"I did not say that about you," Gerard hisses. "All I was going to say was that you were asleep, and the place that only had the Styrofoam cups was closer, and I didn't want to walk too far away from you while you're trying to sleep--in the middle of a goddamn airport."

"Oh, so I need you to look after me now, is that it?" Frank spits back in a challenging tone. "Well, in that case, sorry I said anything, mom."

"Maybe I didn't want our shit to get stolen--You ever think of that?" Gerard hisses back.

"Yeah, like anyone would ever want your ugly shoes and fuckin' used copy of Green Lantern," Frank says, sitting back straight in his seat. He very visibly rolls his eyes, and Gerard can feel a little puddle of anger start forming inside of him.

"No, but I'm sure they'd love your phone, or better yet, your fucking wallet," Gerard says back, keeping it going. In the back of his mind, he kind if can't believe they're circling back to almost the same argument they had before.

"You know what, why don't you just shut up," Frank says irritably, taking his carry-on bag and aggressively unzipping it to find something inside. Gerard can feel the puddle grow, more droplets of anger raining into it, only now he can no longer think of anything to defend himself. He throws his hands up into the air and makes a kind of noise of defeat instead.

"I give up then," he says and Frank peeks back up at him, questioning, while still shuffling through his bag. "Last week you were saying 'what the hell is wrong with you? Don't ever buy anything from Starbucks because they're just another blood-sucking corporation that can afford to overcharge you for your coffee cause they never pay their poor farmer slaves'" Gerard tries to imitate Frank's flustered tone that Frank has whenever going off on tangents or speeches, complete with his hand gestures and everything. "Now I'm supposed to drink Starbucks because, what, now their fuckin' cups don't hurt the environment? What the actual fuck, Frank?" Gerard ends with an exhausted tone of confusion.

"No, you're supposed to use the reusable travel mug that I bought you for Christmas last year, so I wouldn't have to keep reminding you that Styrofoam isn’t biodegradable!" Frank shoots back, jutting a pointed finger back in the direction of the garbage bin where the cup now is.

"You're impossible," Gerard says, exasperated, as he rolls his eyes and sits back straight in his seat.

"Yeah, and you're an idiot." Frank drops his bag back between his feet, and shifts around in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position.

"Oh, yeah, Frank, some poor polar bear is gonna drown now 'cause I drank out of Styrofoam instead some biodegradable crap," Gerard adds in, blowing a wisp of hair out of his face, slowly forgetting any guilt he may have felt before. "Give me a break."

"Hope you drown," Frank mutters back, fixing some part of his pants as he stands up, wiping at his nose with his sleeve.

Gerard opens his mouth to spit something back, the very first thing that comes to his mind, but between Frank making motions like he's about to walk away and realizing that they've both reverted back to being ten tears old again, apparently, Gerard stops himself, and briefly watches as Frank stomps off towards the flight times screen a small distance away.

"You know, this wouldn't have happened if we left the day I wanted to leave," Gerard has to almost yell it out while he gestures towards the snowstorm, as Frank becomes further and further away. Gerard watches him, waits for him to spin around and start yelling back, but all Gerard can see in the small distance is Frank's arm shoot upward, flipping Gerard off without even bothering to turn around and face him too.

Gerard's mouth opens and closes, realizing there's nothing he can say now that would do anything. He can see Frank stand in front of the huge monitor, arms crossed, ignoring the rest of the world around him, and it makes Gerard want to stomp over there himself just to get in the last word. But his mind is blank for comebacks, and Frank standing like that, still upset after a nap, makes Gerard kind of feel the weird guilt again. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and shifts his weight from foot to foot, looks around, unsure of what to do with himself. His throat and nerves itch with the want for a cigarette, but the subtle sticky feeling of the nicotine patch he stuck on his ass cheek, not wanting Frank to see it outside of his clothes, is a steady, annoying reminder that he's actually doing something good for not just himself but the O-Zone layer too. Therefore, he's really only just doing it for Frank.

Last Friday, he thinks. He smoked the last one in the pack he declared to be his final one, then crumpled up the box and immediately left their apartment for the Duane and Reade down the block and spent he didn't even pay attention to how much on the patches and gum, thinking the whole time, Frank, you better like this because I'm going to kill you if you don't.

It takes another tugging want of a cigarette to get Gerard to finally quit being a dick, and pick up his bag to go meet Frank over at the departure times. He scratches his ass momentarily to feel the patch there, to keep reminding himself of Frank ("one less cigarette is less part of the problem" Frank would say, like a mantra, as he walked past Gerard smoking out on the stoop instead of inside their apartment, and Gerard would wonder if the problem was the world or himself) then slowly drags himself over to where Frank is to settle their shit.

"Flight got canceled, so they're putting us out on the next one in a couple of hours," Gerard mutters when he finally appears behind Frank, and even he can hear that mumbled tone of apology in his voice. Frank stands facing the screen, refusing to turn around or say anything back. Gerard stares at Frank staring at the screen and awkwardly shifts his weight around. Eventually he bends over a bit to set his bag down and lets out a sigh from being relieved of the weight, then kind if stays like that, folded over, gripping and drumming his fingers on his knees.

"You forgot the mug, didn't you?" Frank finally speaks up, without looking away from the screen.

Gerard raises his head at the sound of Frank's voice, then closes his eyes. He lets himself lose his balance and fall back onto his ass, so he can just sit on the floor and rake his hands through his hair, wanting nothing more than to be able to go back to the warmth of his own living room and smoke a whole fucking pack without having to worry about their neighbors or the furniture smelling or Frank's feelings.

"Yep," he answers Frank straight, suddenly thinking about the travel mug, thinking about how he put it out on the kitchen counter along with their phone chargers and shampoos so he wouldn't forget to pack them; then when he packed everything else and left the mug out so he could carry it with him on the drive to the airport, he forgot it on the counter anyway.

It was the cool kind, the one that was supposed to look like a cheap Styrofoam cup but was actually a cleverly disguised durable plastic that he could refill every day. Frank gave it to him on Christmas morning, filled with organic coffee beans from Vermont, after three straight years of Gerard dragging Frank into cafés with him, only to watch Frank deliberately never order anything because the cups weren't recyclable or, according to Frank's instincts, the coffee came from underpaid farmers or slave labor in South America. Gerard rolled his eyes at another "greener earth" present, but even Frank could sense Gerard smiling inside.

Gerard thinks about how he never actually told Frank he loved it, and how Frank could tell anyway. Gerard had in turn bought him a vegan cookbook and even went as far as to stick yellow post-it notes on all the pages that had recipes Gerard would actually tolerate--things they could actually sit down and eat together. In between the coffee beans in his travel mug, Gerard found a little buried note, tightly folded so it could be hidden, that said "Thanks for helping me save the world - your Ecoterrorist."

It was the first Christmas they ever spent at home just with each other, when they agreed to get just one meaningful thing for each other, and Gerard can't even imagine how happy he must have made Frank to use that mug every day like it was meant to be used.

Gerard bends his neck at an awkward angle to look up at Frank, or, at least Frank's ass which is directly in Gerard's line of vision.

"Sorry..." Gerard finally mutters up to Frank, seeing Frank shift himself a little bit. "that I forgot it..."

Frank stares hard at the departure times until they flicker away to a whole new set of big red delayed and canceled flights. When their flight is no longer shown up there, he finally lowers his head while Gerard catches a glimpse of his foot scuffing against the carpet.

"I didn't get Starbucks because you told me their coffee beans come from child laborers," Gerard goes on, hearing the desperate 'forgive me' in his voice. "I...remembered you telling me that." He looks back up at Frank, waiting for a scoff or another refusal to speak to him at all. But he feels a little bit of hope when he sees Frank's head begin to turn on his shoulders.

"Thanks..." Gerard finally hears Frank mutter and it makes Gerard's heart swell back up, if only just a tiny bit.

"And the other place was all local, too," Gerard adds in, kind of hoping the extra detail will mean something. Frank scuffs his feet on the carpet as a response, still so stubborn, but Gerard still sees it as progress.

Gerard stares up at Frank's ass for a while, silently enjoying the view, not caring if they're both sort of in everyone's way, sitting right down in front of the departure times screen. Gerard watches a couple of flight times go from cancelled to delayed as a TV playing CNN somewhere near talks about the storm letting off quicker than they thought. He listens to the news people go from talking about the weather to talking about the war and celebrities, and the neutral voices of the news reporters is enough to make Gerard zone out, eyes fixated on a hole in the back of Frank's jeans. He pictures what Frank's butt looks like naked, and just thinks of this image until something clunking right on top of his head rips him back into reality.

"Shit!" Gerard nearly shrieks, palming the top of his skull in pain, feeling something lightweight but hard fall into his lap. Looking up at Frank quizzically, he sees the tiniest glimpse of a smirk on Frank's lips, and then looks down at whatever fell into his lap.

"Ow," Gerard says flatly as he picks up a tiny little box wrapped in newspaper, turning it around in his fingers until he suddenly remembers that Frank is the only person who wraps his presents in recycled materials. "Wait...This is..." his voice trails off as he looks back up at Frank who's still just smiling slyly while sticking a hand sneakily back into a pocket of his hoodie.

"Your present--early," Frank finishes for him.

Gerard tears the newspaper off as fast as he can, only to find that there's actually layers of it on top of an excess of scotch tape. "Jesus..." he mutters when it becomes a struggle to just get all the wrapping off, even though he's used to Frank being the most obnoxious present wrapper in the world. He struggles to get himself back up to his feet without using his hands to push himself up, while continuing to unwrap his present in the process.

"Damn," Gerard says, almost chuckling as he finally tosses all the torn newspaper and tape to the floor. When he finally looks at what the present actually is, his head whips over at Frank, before he just blinks. When he looks over at Frank again, his face has gone back to the kinder look Gerard knows well, and it makes Gerard feel like the Grinch when his heart grows too big for his chest, even though he's also confused. A blue ring box is cradled between his fingers, and all Gerard can think to say is,

"You want to get married?"

Frank's smile falls unusually fast and is replaced with a flat expression and an eye roll.

"No," Frank scoffs, and Gerard's own smile falls as well. When Frank sees Gerard's face, he struggles to immediately explain himself.

"Well, just, I mean, they're, you know--" Frank waves his hands around, trying to find words. "I didn't mean like, you know, not like, right now--Just look inside the box and shut up," Frank blathers, gesticulating.

"There's two of them," Gerard comments after opening the box during Frank's blabbering. Something inside of him caves in a bit, a kind of strange feeling of utter love, when he notices that they're custom made for each other, and that the bigger ring must be for him.

"They're promise rings," Frank finally says clearly, nearly sighing, his voice softening.

Gerard takes the smaller ring out and examines it close to his face. Under the fluorescent lights of the airport, he can see engravings on the top of the silver band. He can't read it completely clearly, but he grins, even though he's not sure he totally understands. He lip-reads "Elephant Shoes" then lowers the ring away from his eyes.

"I'm not asking you to marry me," Frank says and Gerard can feel his hand suddenly tucked and wrapped under his own arm. "...Yet." Frank pauses as his eyes shift around, unsure if he's saying it in a good way. "They're just...there to remind us that we're here for each other...And maybe, like...a sort of engagement prequel...thing."

Gerard just grins and does what he's always secretly wanted to do, no matter how corny it seems, and takes Frank's other hand, slipping the ring onto the right finger, then allowing Frank to do the same for him.

"We look hot," Gerard says as they knowingly bring their hands together at the same time to examine the rings next to each other. They're almost huddled together, tilting their hands to examine how they look with matching rings when Gerard feels Frank warm face near his, Frank's lips on his cheek.

"No diamonds, I hope you don't mind," Frank whispers into Gerard's ear as his other hand rests on Gerard's chest. Gerard just chuckles so softly it almost goes unheard, because obviously he doesn't mind at all. (If children in Sierra Leone were getting killed over them, then Gerard didn't expect to get any from Frank.) Admittedly, he also doesn't even know the first thing about jewelry, only goes about pretending like he understands, but he doesn't think he needs to know or appreciate fine stuff to know that he loves Frank's present.

"No more diamonds, just like you said," Gerard says lowly, smiling, almost speaking to himself, as he looks at the ring, liking how new and clean it looks on his usually naked hand. It's a nice, plain, shining silver that makes him feel secretly luxurious, and when it's right next to Frank's hand, he can almost picture them as wedding rings anyway.

"What does yours say?" Gerard asks, suddenly taking Frank's hand and gently twisting his wrist around to examine Frank's ring. Before Frank can answer, though, Gerard's already carefully taking a hold of Frank's finger and pulling the ring off to examine it under the soft glow of the departure screens. He can't read the text too well again, but can still vaguely make out too short words.

"Olive juice," Frank answers for him and Gerard looks at him strangely.

"Elephant shoes and olive juice," Gerard says aloud, questioning. He pauses for a second, trying to figure out if he knows what it means, if he's heard it before, or if it's just Frank being vague and cryptic on purpose.

"I don't get it," Gerard says flat out, but hears his voice trail off. He feels like this was some hidden secret between them that he was supposed to remember, but didn't, and feels a flicker of guilt for it.

The tiny, warm smirk that was on Frank's lips abruptly disappears as his face momentarily flickers into his usual dull stare. Gerard feels his stomach lurch somewhat, feeling, knowing he's ruined the moment. But Frank closing his eyes suddenly and doing what looks like a silent therapeutic breathing exercise for anger management, Gerard knows that he's okay.

"It means..." Frank says, his eyes fluttering open, then quickly shifting around, suddenly uncomfortable, unsure. "It means, you know..."

Gerard blinks, feeling almost embarrassed, like the answer is obvious, as Frank's hands wave around, not exactly wanting to say it aloud.

"It means -- Oh, my god, you know what it means," Frank says, slapping his hands back down to his sides and finally rolling his eyes.

Gerard blinks again and looks back at the ring, when it suddenly clicks in his head, and makes sense.

"Oh," he says suddenly. "Oh!" He looks back over at Frank, but quickly glances back at the ring, feeling a grin stretch across his face.

"Yeah," Frank sighs, suddenly sounding like he's exhausted. Gerard just grins at him, suddenly so full of adoration.

"Aw, that's so dorky," Gerard says through his smile, wanting to yank Frank into a hug and squeeze him for hours.

"Gee, thanks," Frank mutters, joking, his shoulders slouching."Wonderful."

Gerard somehow manages to scoff and laugh simultaneously. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, whatever," Frank says, turning away back to the screen just to tease Gerard.

"Hey," Gerard lifts his head, feeling the ring in his palm and inexplicably remembering the nicotine patch. He looks Frank directly in the eye, sounding stern out of nowhere. He waits for Frank to face him again, cocking an eyebrow at him, before Gerard takes chin in his hand.

"What?" Frank says, and Gerard can hear his voice softening. Gerard stares into Frank's eyes, thinking of all the corny things he would be supposed to say then, but is unable to keep from cracking another smile, ruining the moment.

"I've got something for you too," he tells Frank, letting go of his face. Frank's softened look falls into a sort of sardonic disappointed one, before he cocks another eyebrow at Gerard placing his hands on his belt buckle.

Frank watches, utterly confused, as Gerard begins to undo his belt, for a moment, looking as if he's ready to unzip his pants and randomly pee on the floor. He doesn't think to speak up until he sees Gerard literally grab a hold of his waistband and begin to tug his pants down, making Frank jump to stop him, convinced for a second that he's really going to flash his dick for all of JFK airport to see.

"Whoa, whoa, what--what the hell are you doing?!" Frank hisses, trying to grab at Gerard's hands in some desperate attempt to hike his pants back up. His head whips from side to side, instinctively looking to see if people are staring.

"No, hold on, I want to show you..." Gerard says back lightly, insistent, as he tries to buck his hips out of Frank's grip on his belt.

"What the hell are you trying to do--Jesus, what're you four years old?" Frank's eyes widen as he begins to panic, feeling embarrassed. When Gerard manages to get out of his grip and hop out of his reach, Frank's eyes dart around again, feeling like they're making a huge scene, in his head.

"No -- oh, my god, just look," Gerard says, firmly taking the back of his pants, twisting his body at an awkward angle and pulling his boxers down, so only Frank behind him, can see his butt cheeks.

"Look at what?" Frank grits his teeth, feeling like he wants to smack Gerard across the face now, instead of cuddle up beside him. But when he finally glances down at Gerard's exposed ass, and notices what at first looks like a square band-aid against Gerard's superbly pale skin, he simply closes his mouth and takes a step back.

"Is that--?" Frank absently points at the patch, nearly leaning over to touch it or rub Gerard's ass, without thinking, before Gerard yanks the back of his pants back up and cuts him off.

"I quit. Last week. Last Tuesday was my last pack. I quit smoking."

Frank blinks and stares, unsure if what to say or do. He stares at Gerard, feeling almost suspicious, unsure if Gerard is serious.

"For you," Gerard finishes, sounding as if he's finally getting something large off of his chest. It feels that way, at least. He quickly fixes his belt and tugs at his pant legs, trying to readjust everything.

"You...you're really doing it this time?" Frank says, his voice softened by actual shock, hesitance.

"Really doing it this time," Gerard reiterates, nodding his head for effect.

"And you're not lying to me," Frank says low and slow, as if he's trying to prove it more to himself than anyone else. "Last time --"

"I'll never lie to you like that ever again," Gerard states as best as he can, feeling his own fingers twitch and curl, feeling that awkwardness of remembering guilt.

Frank blinks and stares for what feels like a whole hour, before his body launches towards Gerard. Gerard nearly stumbles backward, gripping and holding onto Frank like he's afraid of falling and taking Frank down with him. Frank buries his face into Gerard's hair and wraps his arms around his shoulders so that Gerard can feel him breathe hotly and excitedly against the side of his neck. When Gerard glances down and sees Frank's legs dangling off the floor, he realizes he actually is carrying Frank's weight, and grips onto him even tighter to compensate.

"I knew you could do it, baby," Gerard hears Frank's voice, muffled and buried, and he smirks lopsidedly, never thinking he'd hear Frank ever call him baby.

"Yeah, well...we'll see," Gerard says with a sigh in his voice.

When Frank finally slides back down to the floor, his hands find Gerard's cheeks, and he holds Gerard's face, with a loving smile.

"You're awesome," Frank says softly, and their faces become so close their noses touch.

"You really think so?" Gerard smirks back, smugly, deliberately sounding like a little kid.

"Not always," Frank scoffs flatly, but can't help the tiny laugh that comes out. "But sometimes..." His arms wrap around Gerard neck, pulling himself into him. "You're pretty cool."

Gerard grins abruptly.

"So, you'll blow me tonight, now, right?"

Frank's hands drop from Gerard instantly as he shoots him a look of scorn.

"You're an asshole," Frank says irritably.

"I was joking," Gerard says instantly, chuckling.

"Forget it, you ruined it, Frank states, turning away.

Gerard just grins and laughs, even though he feels warmer inside. He watches Frank turn back to the screens and cross his arms, deliberately shutting him out again, and it just makes Gerard smile even wider. He tucks his hands into his jacket pockets and steps towards Frank, lowering in until his nose is right in Frank's ear, until his whole face is buried into Frank's hair. He smirks smugly at Frank's statue response of forced apathy.

"Frank..." Gerard mutters right into Frank's ear. He feels Frank shift around, cross his arms even tighter.

"Frank...Fraaannk?"

Frank huffs and glares at the screen, but even Gerard can sense the smile hidden behind Frank's grim expression. Frank is the most stubborn man Gerard has ever been with, but they both know that being with Frank has only made Gerard more patient than he's ever been in his whole life. If Gerard sat through silent treatments and periods of absolutely no sex, that lasted days on end because he lied to Frank's face about quitting smoking, then snuck out onto the apartment balcony at night for a secret smoke after he thought Frank had gone to bed, Gerard can surely wait for Frank to look at him again. And he would gladly wait for hours.

So he simply stares.

"Go away," Frank finally says lightly, defiantly, and Gerard can see Frank struggling to stifle a smile.

"I don't want to," Gerard says, sounding pouty, as his body begins to tilt, his face turning closer to Frank's.

"You're being stupid," Frank says in the same light tone against Gerard's face, which is right in his own. "Go away."

Gerard decides to kiss Frank on the lips instead. When Frank doesn't turn his head away, Gerard kisses his lips several more times, soft, quick pecks. Frank doesn't necessarily kiss him back, but doesn't reject Gerard either.

"Hey...olive juice," Gerard whispers through a grin, as he presses his nose to Frank's.

Gerard thinks he might crack up if Frank actually says "Elephant shoes" back, but instead, Frank grimly stares. He, however, doesn't swat Gerard's hand away when Gerard wraps his arm around Frank's waist. He also doesn't protest when Gerard takes his waist and pulls him into a warm hold, and does eventually slump into Gerard, burying himself into Gerard's chest.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Frank, I really don't," Gerard says, resting his chin down on the top of Frank's head. He makes eye contact with the occasional passer-by that turns his head to stare as he strolls past, and doesn't stop holding Frank. He feels Frank's chest rise against his own, and takes in the scent of his hair.

"I know what I'd do," Frank says sarcastically, even when his voice is lost and muffled into Gerard's shirt and chest. Gerard just grins.

Gerard chuckles as Frank dislodges his face from Gerard's shirt. He cranes his neck to stare up at him before resting his chin on Gerard's chest.

"I can't stand you..." Frank grumbles, before turning his head to the side to rest it back down in Gerard's chest.

"Then leave" Gerard says simply, teasingly.

"You leave," Frank says back, sounding like a four-year-old again.

"I don't wanna leave," Gerard smiles softly.

"Well, I don't wanna leave either," Frank pouts back.

"Then I guess we're not going anywhere."

"Guess not."

It takes a short while before Gerard begins to laugh. He chuckles softly with his lips pressed against Frank's scalp, and then sees something rare--he laughs until Frank begins to giggle too, until their noses touch again and they laugh against each others' faces. They laugh quietly until their faces start to hurt, thinking about the fight over a Styrofoam cup, the rings, thinking of how stupid they both are, while looking at each other like they both know they wouldn't have it any other way.

When they both finally simmer down, Frank settles back into Gerard's chest, and Gerard remembers then how much he really likes it when Frank is close to him. He likes those tiny moments when Frank puts aside his bitterness and Gerard agrees to put down his stupidity, and just for a small while Gerard can remember why he likes living on this big, confusing, polluted planet.

Outside of the big floor-to-ceiling windows of the airport, the snow pounds down, still totally silent, and Gerard thinks, yeah. A earth with Frank on it is kind of totally worth saving.