Interstellar Space

Frank can’t remember how he met Gerard. It’s as if he’s always been there, like there was never a time where they didn’t know each other. He hasn’t though, Frank remembers when his life was a hell of a lot simpler - but that’s not what it feels like. How they met doesn’t matter, only the fact that he knows him now is important. Although, sometimes Frank wishes he doesn’t. He takes the thought back almost as soon as it’s registered.

It’s hard staying in love with Gerard when at times he doesn’t hear from him for months on end and can only wonder what galaxy he’s in from one week to the next. They try to get in video calls whenever they can, but it all depends on what side the universe Gerard is on at the time. It sucks so fucking bad when the first time Frank gets to see his boyfriend in God knows how long is through a crackly screen the size of a cigarette packet, barely being able to hear him due to the static and radioactivity. Gerard tries, Frank knows he does, but sometimes he wishes he would try harder.

Maybe it would be easier if Gerard’s job didn’t come with the giant risk of being killed or sold out for more money than Frank would know what to do with. Gerard could get caught and Frank wouldn’t even know unless he checked the database. And that worries him – worries him so much that on some nights he can’t sleep and has to check the database (the one he shouldn’t even know exists) every hour just to put his mind at ease.

Life goes on; Frank tells himself when it’s three weeks later than Gerard had promised he’d return. And Frank knows (hopes) that Gerard wants to be back in Franks crappy little apartment on the upper deck of Viper as much as he wants him to be; he knows that Gerard will come back when he can. But sometimes waiting gets really fucking old. Life, Frank tells himself over and over again, does not revolve around his boyfriend; he’s got a job and great friends, and sometimes if Gerard isn’t there it’s okay, Frank can get through the cycle without pining.

And then there are cycles when more than anything, Frank just wants Gerard. He’ll try calling but will get no signal and will check the database religiously. He doesn’t want to go to work and he doesn’t want to talk to people. He wants to spend the day moping around his apartment in his underwear and yearn for his boyfriend to come back. Because when Gerard’s not there, it feels like half of him is missing; there are times when it’s just fucking painful. Frank sometimes just wishes they were normal – but that’s another thought he takes back when he’s thinking clearer, he’s sure they would not be together if their situation was in any way normal.

But Gerard, of course, makes up for it. Always.

Frank will be working his shift when the fourth or fifth wave of clientele will walk in and there he’ll be trying to look inconspicuous and blend in with the crowd. He will sit at the end of the bar and wait for Frank to come to him, because Gerard knows he’s seen him. It takes everything for Frank not to kiss him and scream at him in front of the whole club. When he does go over, Gerard always greets him the same way, he will look up from under his eyelashes at Frank and say, “Hey, baby.” It makes Frank want to cry and call him an asshole every time.

Frank will go through the Staff Only door and Gerard will follow, but Frank won’t wait for him to catch up. He’ll go straight up to his apartment, holding the keypad down for Gerard. Gerard will look at him in a way that no one else has ever looked at Frank before and he’ll hug him so tight and whisper apologies against his neck. Everyone will know where Frank’s gone, and Wentz is cool as far as bosses go – he won’t screw at him too badly at the beginning of the next cycle for disappearing in the middle of his shift.

Gerard will hold him so close and so tight, Frank just buries his face in his shoulder and thinks about how worth it all those weeks were just to have this. Gerard will be tired, Frank knows, so he lets go and takes him by the hand to his bedroom and watches as he falls asleep fully clothed. After a while Frank will let himself fall asleep to. It’s the same every time.
At the beginning of the new cycle Gerard’s there when he wakes up. Frank will make himself savour the moment and commit it to memory for times when Gerard is no longer so close. He’ll nuzzle into Gerard’s flesh and count the freckles he knows are sprinkled over his chest, and his boyfriend will murmur sweet nothings into the air as he kisses his skin.

He will tell Frank stories about the galaxies he visited and the people he met along the way, and about Mikey and Alicia; how they’ve settled down and they’re so happy. Maybe Frank should want that for them, to find a planet somewhere where they can live and work and just be normal - but he doesn’t, not even a little bit. Gerard pulls things out from his bag that Frank has never even heard of before – he knows they’re either stolen or unfairly gambled wins (Gerard never loses, Frank knows from experience). There are rocks, pieces of jewellery, weapons and food from all over the universe. Gerard gives it all to Frank. He always does.

Frank doesn’t let Gerard out of his apartment at all during the first cycle; he knows that they’ll only get a week together if they’re lucky. He traces the scars he knows so well , as well as the new ones Gerard will have acquired on his journey, first with his fingers and then with his tongue. He makes Gerard tell him about all the fresh disfigurements; who, what, why, when and where. They will stay up all the later part of the cycle, sitting cross legged on Frank’s bed – sometimes they’ll talk, sharing things they’ve told each other countless times before and things they’re still discovering, and sometimes they won’t.

On the second cycle – when there is a second cycle – Gerard will go around the ship and talk to people he hasn’t seen in longer than he can remember. He’ll catch up with old friends while Frank catches up on the work he’s missed. He’s comfortable knowing that Gerard’s in walking distance rather than thousands of miles away. They’ll spend the end of the cycle on the floor of Frank’s apartment – always. They won’t care how loud they are or how they’ll receive cat calls and crude comment on the next cycle, they won’t care.

When they’re lucky and there is a third, fourth and maybe even a fifth cycle, they become sickeningly domestic. They will curl up on the couch and read and talk and fuck until Frank’s shift begins. If there’s a patch of skin visible, there will be lips pressed to it; if there’s hair blocking eyes from view, it will be tucked behind an ear. They will shower and eat and dress together. They will not stop touching each other.

Gerard will sit at the bar and order a beer, a coke, then a mineral water and finally a glass of their cheapest whisky while Frank works. When Frank’s not busy he’ll lean up on his tiptoes and over the bar to press his lips to his boyfriends, where Gerard will whispers filthy things in his ear which make him blush. When his shift comes to an end, Gerard will take him back up to his apartment and make good of the promises he made at the club.

There have been times when Gerard has promised to spread Frank out on his bed and taste him everywhere. Times when Frank’s been propped up on the kitchen counter with Gerard on his knees in front of him with his head between the younger man’s legs. Times when Frank has been made to kneel awkwardly in the shower cubicle with his boyfriend’s hands wound tight in his hair and his mouth full. Gerard always keeps those promises.

Gerard will take pictures throughout their time together with the old Polaroid camera he brought back from Earth that one time (he stocks up on film whenever he visits). He will snap shots at times that seem thoroughly insignificant; Frank washing his face in the sink, the bed they left unmade, the view of interstellar space from Frank’s window. Frank knows these pictures are all tacked up on the far wall of the cockpit on Gerard’s ship. There are photos of them together; ones where Frank’s pressing a secret kiss to the side of boyfriend’s mouth, and where they’re smiling together in front of the glass wall of Viper. Then there are ones that no one else should see – that no one else will see; photos of Frank with his mouth around Gerard’s nipple, more than a few close-ups of Gerard buried up to the hilt inside him, ones of their bare legs tangled together, them lying blissed out with Frank pliant and warm against Gerard’s side.

Then, Gerard will have to leave again. He always has to leave. Frank will demand that he’s going with him this time – he will have been saying this since his arrival, but Gerard would not have answered – he never does, Gerard won’t let him. “It’s too dangerous,” he will say, which only makes Frank worry more. Frank doesn’t like watching him leave, he did once and all the docking stewards saw him ugly and crying; he doesn’t cry when Gerard leaves anymore, he knows he’ll be back.

When Gerard leaves Frank always finds a wad of money beneath his pillow with a note. It says the same thing every time: Keep safe, baby, I’ll be back soon. Always. Frank won’t cry, although he will want to.

Throughout the next few cycles, Frank will find wads of money hidden in all sorts of places; in his cupboards, behind sofa cushions, in the corner of his shower cubicle, in the back of his draws. It will make him smile. He doesn’t know what to do with all of it; he’s not a big spender. Gerard once explained that he keeps his money in Frank’s apartment because it’s safer than on the ship, and that Frank can spend as much of his as he wants, it’s his money too. Frank never does. Over the years he’s acclimated thousands in a box at the back of his sock draw.

There’s never a day where Frank doesn’t think about Gerard, in fact it’s hard to avoid thinking about him when his belongings are scattered around Frank’s apartment; clothes from the last time he docked (and the time before that), and gifts from planets Frank never knew existed. Gerard leaves photos for him strewn around his apartment of all sorts of things; them, their friends, objects, space. Frank keeps them hidden in his bottom draw where no one else will see them.

The process will start all over again with bad video call connections and promises that they both know can’t be kept, cycles where Frank thinks of his boyfriend and smiles, others where he wants to punch him in the face, but Gerard always comes back. Always.