One Last Time

Life had definitely reached its sweetest. The band was going strong again. We weren't sure whether we'd be able to continue after The Black Parade. That tour had almost destroyed us; we were exhausted, we missed our significant others and we'd almost grown sick of our music. We had a new energy after our much needed break. It definitely showed through our new looks.

I still remember the day Gerard walked through the door with bright red hair. We all froze and just stared. Yeah, he'd done it before but he'd only kept it for a short while. He'd seen our faces and reached up to touch his bright red roots worriedly. 'You guys don't like it?' he'd questioned. We'd burst out laughing. Still the same old Gerard no matter what he did to his hair.

Mikey was next to undergo a drastic change. He decided he was fed up of his boring old brown and went blonde. That was definitely a shock for us all. He hadn't really changed much since his extreme makeover during The Black Parade. Mikey wasn't really one for taking big risks so we weren't really expecting him to go through with it when he thoughtfully curled his long fingers around his hair and spoke of changing its colour. He was different. He wasn't the shy, anxious kid brother to Gerard any more. I'd joked that he was looking pretty boneable these days. It didn't go down too well.

Ray. Out of all of us, he'd probably changed the least. Same old familiar Ray we know and love. Still loved his video games, still one of the most level-headed guys I'd ever met. He'd gotten more creative with his guitar on this album. He'd definitely taken Bob's departure the hardest out of us all. He'd told me he felt almost guilty going on without him.

I think the biggest change for Gerard and I was adjusting to father-hood. The hardest part of this tour was receiving photos from my wife of the girls enjoying a day out at the beach or playing in the back yard. Knowing I was missing huge portions of my kid's lives was painful. Like every other dad, Gerard and I had to work. And I had to remind myself I was putting food on the table and paying for everything I'd never had as a child.

I absent-mindedly stroked the beautiful faces of my girls in the photo I had in my wallet, a smile on my face.

“I love you both,” I said.

“Well, gee, Frank, I don't know what to say,” Mikey's mocking tone came out “I appreciate the fervour but I've told you I don't do dick. No way, no how.”

I slapped his arm, laughing with him and the others. I closed up my wallet and slipped it back into my pocket. Mikey had curled up, laughing as I playfully hit at him again. Ray watched with an amused look on his face from the sofa, over the top of his magazine. Gerard was laughing from his place by the vanity mirror, watching us through the glass.

I stopped to look over at him. His eyes were on me, I could've sworn it. That deep seductive look he used to give me. No, Frank, you're being stupid. Those days are long over. Yep. I was right, he was applying a quick coat of eyeliner. It was strange how little eyeliner, if any, he applied these days. He had tried to tie his hair back but scarlet locks of it had escaped and fell gently over his face.

I looked back to Mikey whose nose had wrinkled in disgust. He was looking over at the radio. It was that song. You know the one. About sending porno pics to Taio Cruz. That's always astounded me. They say our music, indeed rock and metal in general, is a bad influence on the youth of today. But Taio Cruz gets away with asking for a “dirty picture” and Rihanna got away with that song about S&M – and the bitch totally copied Gerard's hair. Don't care what anyone says, she copied him.

“Hey, Toro,” Mikey called “Be a friend and spare our ears?”

Ray laughed and prepared to move. Gerard looked back at us.

“You know, guys, I'm not sure,” He commented “I think – I think I'm getting it. . .” He continued moving slowly to the music.

“You what?” I questioned “You goon.”

He carried on, moving his hips in time “It's got a very catchy bassline, I'm definitely feeling it.”

Mikey looked almost horrified as Gerard pranced around, showing off more than anything. Ray and I fell into hysterics as he moved around the room, singing into a hair brush. Mikey demanded to know who this guy was and what he'd done with his older brother. He just turned away, throwing in an ass shake. If I hadn't have been looking at him, I wouldn't have seen him watching me in the mirror again and I wouldn't have seen him throw that look over his shoulder. That smouldering look.

I swallowed hard.

“Ten minutes,” The call came.

Mikey clapped me on the shoulder and heaved himself up. I took his proffered hand and got up too.

“The lights and the stage await,” He said with a smile.

We fell into formation to leave the room and head down that hall to the open space where the fans awaited us. Performing had an excitement to it again. It had become mundane and impersonal during our last tour. Now we were refreshed, it felt good to be back onstage and see the creativity of the fans as they adopted their own KillJoy persona.

“You guys go on,” Gerard said “I'm just going to the bathroom.”

* * *

The stage was my playground. The music my master. I, the willing servant. It got interesting halfway through “Prison”. Of course it did, it's almost like that's the cue for us to start fucking around. By us, I mean Gerard and I of course – save for the time we got Ray to join in and go shirtless.

There it was, the chorus of beautiful moans. Gerard, at the front of the stage, encouraging the crowd to join him in his fake orgasm. Me, watching with a smirk. Mikey frowning with fond disapproval and shaking his head.

I grinned knowingly. He used to moan for me. These fake sounds were so different and exaggerated compared to the soft “uuhs” and deep growls I got from him. Stop thinking about it. You'll only hurt yourself. I could remember it all. How he used to claw at my back. The way he ran those delicate hands up my thighs. His husky breaths hot in my ear. Fingers tangled in my hair. The soft voice, begging for more.

A hand grabbed me. A fistful of my hair, pulling my head back. Gerard standing close behind me, singing into the mic. The hand trailed down my back before coming up to grab my face.

“Been a long time, eh, Frankie?” Gerard husked in my ear.

Before I could reply, he'd give me a long lick up the side of my face and moved off again. I exhaled and watched his back as he ran to the opposite side of the stage, holding the mic out the the front row.

Mikey caught my eye and mouthed 'What the hell?' to me. I shrugged, moving closer. Mikey took a step towards me, leaning closer so he could hear me.

“Must be in one of those moods,” I replied “Total diva mode.”

He laughed and shrugged, shaking his head. I smiled and carried on playing, my focus on the guitar.

But this was the first of many “Gerard antics”. He'd gone off into his own little world of showing off. I could only smirk fondly as he grabbed my hair or kissed my cheek, moaning to himself. I could feel the heat in my cheeks.

I had to join in. I leant into the mic, moaning along with Gerard. I could see Mikey's head shaking in the corner of my eye. Gerard turned to me and grinned, moving to the music. I groaned further, pretending I was turned on by him. Wasn't hard. Arm above his head, the expression, the pose. He'd turned into a sex God in the break from Black Parade.

I could remember it all. The times we'd squeezed into my bunk, pretending to nap. The times he'd slipped his spare room key into my back pocket. All those times I'd pinned him to the floor of that shitty van, pretending I'd lost my balance and fallen into him. The times I'd grinded into him whilst on his lap on the bus.

With a sudden jolt, I pulled away from Gerard, who'd walked over to me. He looked confused and almost offended for a brief second. I smiled sheepishly at him. He walked away without another look in my direction.

* * *

“Y'know, Gerard,” Mikey said as we came offstage “Sometimes I swear Mom should've given me a big sister, the way you behave.”

“You love it,” Gerard insisted.

Mikey shook his head. I grinned and put an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in for a hug. A hand brushed my leg from behind. I jolted and opened the door to the dressing room. The first thing I did was check my phone. A message from my wife.

Hope 2night went ok. Girls r missing u. Goin' bed. Call u 2morrow. Love u. xx

I smiled and text her back, telling her I loved her too and to give the kids a kiss from me. There was a second message on my phone. A picture message from Gerard. I wrinkled my eyebrows and looked up at him, standing with Ray drinking a red bull. Still frowning, I opened the message. And almost died.

I could see the bottom half of Gerard's face in the image, his red locks falling down his face. There was a smirk on his lips. A knowing smirk. A smouldering smirk. Following that it was a photo of his body and his pants down, boxers on show. A quite obvious hard-on under the material.

I opened up a new message and simply wrote 'Wtf?' and sent it to him. Regardless, I opened up the message and selected Save image.

On the other side of the room, I heard the message alert and watched Gerard pull his phone out and read my text. He raised his eyebrows and looked up at me with that smirk. He excused himself, and left the room.

Outside. Come find me.

I sighed. Gerard was playing his games. He'd done it before, just to see how long I'd let him string me along for. I wasn't in the mood for his games tonight. I didn't want to get hurt.

I made my way outside, reaching into my pocket for my cigarettes. Might as well have a smoke while I was outside. I sparked up and shoved my hands into my hoodie pockets. Where was he? I inhaled quickly and looked around.

“Gerard?” I called “Gerard, where are you?”

There was no reply. I sighed and took my cigarette into my hand and turned to look for him. I couldn't see him. If I hadn't found him by the time I was done with my smoke, I was leaving him. I was too tired for this shit.

We were supposed to be past all this. We'd all come through all our personal shit to keep the music going. Gerard and I weren't any different. We had decided all of this needed to go behind us when he announced that he wanted to get married.

“Gerard, I'm not in the mood for your games,” I said “If you don't tell me what the hell tonight's been about by the time I'm done with my cigarette, I'm leaving you out here!”

And at last, there he was. He stepped out from behind the dumpsters and gestured for me to walk over to him. His hair was covering his face. If it was longer, he'd look like the kid from the ring after being let loose in a paint shop.

I walked over to him, exhaling my smoke slowly, watching it curl around his head. He smirked cheekily and took the cigarette from between my fingers and placed it delicately between his lips. He laughed at my stony expression and exhaled.

“Could've asked, y'know,” I said snippily.

“I knew you'd say yes.”

“You have me there,” I shrugged.

“I could have you anywhere once,” He whispered, leaning close to my ear.

I started and looked at him. His eyes were soft, he was breathing slowly. This was a look I hadn't seen for a while. A look that used to drive me crazy. I'd get that look and know exactly what he wanted. He'd give me that look when he knew I wanted it too.

“Is this what tonight's been about?” I questioned.

He looked down at the ground, chewing his lip. When he looked up at me, his eyes were shiny.

“I miss it,” He whispered “I miss us. . . please tell me you miss it too?”

I paused. I'd be lying if I said no. But I couldn't get into this mess with Gerard again. It was just a big complicated mess that got us into sticky situations and lies. Just a big complicated mess that I'd loved every minute of and missed every day with a big ache in my gut.

He was looking at me intently. Knowingly. He knew I missed it. He knew I didn't want to get back into it. But I did. He could see it all. The trouble I could foresee. I was frightened.

He tried to kiss me.

I pulled away, hands on his wrists.

“Yes, I miss it, Gee,” I spoke “I miss it so much. But we can't do this. We can't get back into this shit. We've grown up. We're married, we have children. We agreed. We said we'd put all this behind us.”

“I know but-”

“You said it was juvenile. It was stupid. It was never meant to be anything more than it was. Just fucking. Remember?”

“Frank, I-”

I shook my head, letting him go. He put a hand on his forehead, pushing his hair back from his face, holding his breath. Trying to stop crying.

“We can't do it, Gerard. We said we were going to be friends. Remember? Just friends. Best friends.”

He sighed heavily and nodded. His head was hanging. I put a hand on his arm, patting. This was hard for me too. I wanted to say 'yes' and wrap my arms around him, crying 'Take me, I'm yours!' but I couldn't. I had to be the adult. God knows I didn't want to.

Once again, he ran his hands through his hair. Hands on his head, he looked around and shook his head. A small smile and a hand on my shoulder.

“I should get back inside then, the guys will be wondering where I am.”

I nodded and reached into my pocket for another cigarette. I put it between my lips and watched his hunched over figure walking away from me, hands in his pockets and hood up. He looked so sad. Almost broken. I pulled the cigarette back out to speak.

“For the record,” I called “I do miss it. I miss you.”

He stopped, standing rigidly. I squinted to see if he was shaking. I could've sworn he was. He turned to look back at me.

My cigarette dropped from my fingers. He grabbed my head, a hand either side, and pushed me back against the wall. His lips crashed into mine, a frenzied and desperate kiss. I kissed back, grabbing his hair in either hand, pulling him in as close as I could get him.

“I can't. . .” He panted, pulling away, resting his forehead on mine “I just can't. . . I can't. . .”

“I know,” I whispered back “I know. . . it's okay. It's all okay.”

He moved in to kiss me again. I met him, kissing back hungrily. Lustfully. Desperately. It had been so long. I'd missed this. I wanted him. Needed him. Gerard. My Gerard. My beautiful Gerard. It had been so long since I'd felt his touch.

I moved my hands to the back of his head, savouring the feeling of him. Gerard. That taste. The smell. Everything about him. It drove me wild. I wanted this. I needed this. I needed Gerard. I'd missed him. But you don't know how much you miss something until you come back to it.

He grabbed the hem of my jeans, pulling them towards him.

“Frankie,” He breathed “Fuck me. Fuck me like you used to!”

“What do I mean?” I questioned, breathless from his silky honey sweet voice. From what he was asking.

“Like I'm the most beautiful thing you've ever seen,” He begged “Like you used to. Like you loved me. Just one last time. Please, Frankie, please!”

“Gee-”

“No. Don't speak. You'll say things neither of us want to hear. Please. Let's just do this. I need you, Frankie. I need you!”

“Okay,” I whispered “I get it. I need you too,” I confessed, sliding my room key into his pocket.

* * *

Walking down that corridor, pretending everything was fine, was so difficult. I could feel the heat rising to my face. The colour in my cheeks. The pounding of my heart. Tonight. It was going to feel like home again. Old days. The good times.

Gerard. His touch, his taste, his smell, the feel of him; it was like home. Safe and secure. But unpredictable and dangerous. It was amazing. There was no other way to describe it. To describe him.

I called goodnight to the others with a promise of seeing them in the morning and entered my room.

I couldn't sit still. I paced the length of my room. I sat down. I jiggled my knee. I stood up. I poured myself a glass of water. I stood by the window. I got a whiskey. I turned the TV on. I switched the channel. I turned it off. I walked around some more. I went to the bathroom. I fixed my hair. I sat on my sofa.

When the door clicked open, I was watching the wall with the TV on in the background. I looked up at him. He looked amazing. He'd cleaned up and done his hair and put on nice clothes. I smiled shyly. He smiled back.

Slowly he came and sat beside me. I sat up just a little bit straighter. We smiled awkwardly. He shook his head with a smile.

“What are we doing, Frank?”

“I don't know,” I smiled back, shaking my head.

“We don't need to do this, do we?”

I shook my head. We were acting crazy. We didn't need to do this at all, we just wanted to. We were desperate to. I shuffled closer, reaching out to take his hand. He smiled and squeezed my hand comfortingly.

“We're being stupid, Gerard,” I said frankly.

“Very stupid,” He agreed “But a good thing did come out of this!”

“And that is?”

“We know neither of us have truly let go of the past.”

We both smiled knowingly. He was right. We both knew. We'd seen the other openly admit it. The past was still lingering with us. And even if we chose not to act tonight, we'd know how the other felt. That was somewhat comforting. We didn't have to wonder any more.

I leaned in and kissed him again. Differently to earlier. This was slow, gentle, showing how I felt. A hand on the back of his head.

“We'll always have how we feel,” He smiled “We don't have to do anything.”

We smiled knowingly and kissed again. Maybe I fucked him like he was the most beautiful person in the world. Maybe I didn't. It doesn't matter. What is important is that we knew how the other felt and got some closure on the cloud of emotions and doubt that had been hanging over us for the last few years. I still loved him. He still loved me. It was just that we were in love with our wives too. More than each other. But feelings don't necessarily go away because you ignore them.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”