#2 - Middles
2 - Middles
#2; Middles
Middles were the best part of any relationship, Gerard thought. Beginnings were awkward, because you didn’t have a clue how to go about starting it, endings were terrible for at least one person in the relationship, because, as he’d once read, ‘Love is like a rubber band – when one person lets go, it hurts the person still holding on’. That was the whole reason he tried very hard to be introverted, invisible and not fall in love. However, there was the day he’d met Frank – that had changed his whole view on life, and indeed love.
“Gerard,” he heard his boyfriend say from the doorway.
“You’re blocking my sunlight. Go away, I’m in the middle of something,” he grumbled, not turning to look at Frank.
“You’re not anymore,” Frank said decidedly. “Get up.”
“Where are we going?” Gerard asked, obeying him. He’d learnt the hard way that disobeying Frank didn’t work – he still had the terrible memories of a week without sex to prove it. (A week, though, seriously, how did Frank manage?)
“Out.”
“That’s very specific,” Gerard whinged. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” his tiny boyfriend said, flashing his perfectly straight teeth in a grin. Gerard couldn’t resist pressing his lips to Frank’s softly.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. Frank smiled.
“You’re so perfect,” Frank told him, lacing their fingers together. He pulled Gerard through their tiny, crappy apartment to the front door. Even the slightest touch made Gerard’s pulse race. He still had no idea how he’d ended up with someone so beautiful, so adorable, so hilarious…so perfect. It was a stark contrast to himself, he thought – fat, ugly, useless, worthless…a general waste of space.
“I still think you should tell me where we’re going.”
“I’m still not going to.”
“Frank!”
“Gerard!” Frank imitated girlishly, and Gerard pouted. Frank giggled, handing him his coat to put on, and picking up a big plastic bag full of what looked like presents.
“It’s not far,” he promised, seeing Gerard’s face at the prospect of exercise.
“It better not be,” Gerard muttered, pulling on his coat and shoes.
-
Half an hour later, they were still walking.
“You said it wasn’t far,” Gerard said.
“It’s not,” Frank retorted. “You walk the speed of a snail trying to outdo a tortoise. In a race of slowness. We should have taken the car.”
“You know how well I fare with cars,” Gerard replied. Frank sighed, entwining their fingers again.
“Yeah, I know all too well.” He was referring to the time that Gerard had almost killed them both in a freak accident – it wasn’t his fault the dog wouldn’t move! Frank was the one who’d insisted that he stop for it anyway, like dogs were more important than humans. Whatever.
“We’re not getting a dog,” Gerard said hastily, as he saw Frank’s train of thought lead him that way. Frank pouted.
“Why not?”
“All they do is piss everywhere, stink the household up and…exist,” Gerard complained, watching Frank’s face carefully. He felt Frank tense his hold on Gerard’s hand slightly, before relaxing it, and knew he was in a safe zone.
“I’ll win you around one day,” Frank said jovially. Gerard certainly hoped not.
-
“You dragged me the long way to Ray’s?” Gerard asked in disbelief, staring up at the apartment block that his best friend lived in. “We could have avoided going this way. We could have shortened our journey by about twenty minutes. I wouldn’t have frozen.” Frank smirked.
“I had to take you the long way. We weren’t supposed to be here ‘til about…” he broke off to check his watch. “Three minutes ago.”
“Then why did we set off so early?” Gerard grumbled. “It’s winter, in case you didn’t realise. It’s cold. I think my dick’s going to fall off.” Frank giggled. “You’re not supposed to find that funny,” Gerard added. Frank snickered again.
“I wanted to get you out of the house,” he explained. “I couldn’t stand to see you sitting there drawing a moment longer. Anyway, look, we’re here now,” he said, pulling Gerard inside. Gerard grumbled his way up the seven floors to Ray’s apartment, because the elevator had broken several years ago and still nobody had bothered to fix it, and stopped to catch his breath. Frank, the fit bastard, was absolutely fine, giggling at Gerard as he wheezed whilst knocking on the door.
“Frank! Gerard!” Ray exclaimed. Gerard managed to pant his name, and he could see Ray trying to hold back a smirk. Motherfucker.
“Smoker’s lungs,” he tried to explain, but it came out as some kind of garbled alien language. Ray seemed to understand, although he’d always chastised Gerard for the ‘disgusting, dirty, cancerous habit’.
“You should stop,” Ray chided him. “It’s a dirty, disgusting, cancerous habit”
“Shut up,” Frank said indignantly, and fuck, Gerard was glad he’d chosen a fellow smoker as a boyfriend. “Smoking calms you down.”
“You’re the only one who needs that,” Ray remarked, noting the way Frank was bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet.
“Shut up,” Frank repeated. “Aren’t you going to invite us in?”
“Please, enter my house,” Ray said sarkily.
"Will do," Frank said innocently, stepping around Ray. He gave his boyfriend a quizzical look.
"Aren't you coming in, Gee?" Gerard nodded, smiling at Ray as he entered, having regained his breath. He looked around the apartment for his younger sibling.
"Is Mikey not here?"
"It doesn't seem like it," Ray said evasively, and shut the door behind him.
"Where is he?" Gerard demanded.
"Not in the apartment." Gerard rolled his eyes. Jesus, Ray was as aggravating as Frank when he wanted to be.
"You're as aggravating as Frank when you want to be," Gerard told him, shrugging off his jacket.
"Is that a compliment or an insult?" Frank yelled from Ray and Mikey's kitchen, where he was inevitably searching their fridge for food. "Oh gross, Ray! Why do you have a turkey in the fridge?"
"Because it's Thanksgiving," Ray said patiently. "And not all of us have given up half our diet." He shot a pointed glance in Gerard's direction - what, okay, Frank wouldn't kiss him if he had meaty breath - and walked into their living room.
"It's Thanksgiving?" Gerard asked, following Ray into the living room. Ray rolled his eyes.
"You've been drawing again, haven't you?" he said, raising an eyebrow. Gerard nodded sheepishly, and Ray sighed. "It's Thanksgiving. It's not that hard to keep track of the days, Gerard, seriously." Gerard was about to reply when there was a massive crash and a yelp in the hallway.
"Mikey?" all three men shouted simultaneously, running out to see what the kerfuffle was. Mikey Way lay amidst a bunch of gifts, blinking owlishly through his glasses. All the others spoke at once.
"Are you alright?" Ray asked anxiously.
"What happened?" Frank said, staring at the mess on the floor.
"Mikey fucking Way, ladies and gentlemen," Gerard scoffed. Mikey sat up slowly.
"I'm okay," he reassured a fretting Ray before pointing a finger at Gerard. "Worst big brother ever. I'm thinking of changing my middle name to 'fucking', since that's what everyone calls me nowadays."
"I try," Gerard said modestly, reaching out a hand to hoist Mikey up. "And it's a lot catchier than James."
"Well guys, I guess it's find-your-present time," Mikey said, gesturing at the gifts strewn over the floor. Nobody moved for a moment, then there was a flurry of activity. Frank ended up with every single present balanced precariously in his arms. Gerard stared at him in wonder.
"How did you do that?" he asked in disbelief.
"Perks of coming from a big Italian family where the kids have to scramble for their presents," he said, walking into the living room. Everybody followed but Ray, who said he was going to defrost the turkey, and if they opened their presents without him, they were in deep shit.
"We won't," Gerard promised him.
"You suck, Gerard," Mikey pouted.
"He does," Frank smiled wickedly, and Mikey yelped, flailing slightly.
"Didn't need to know that!" he shrieked. "Didn't need to know!"
"Mikey?" Ray yelled from the kitchen. "What've you done to the toaster?" Mikey stilled, muttering a quick string of profanities under his breath.
"I...um. There was an unfortunate incident with a fork."
"Is this like the time there was an unfortunate incident with a space heater in the shower? And Gerard with the microwave?"
"The brothers Way," Frank smirked. "Incapable of using electrical appliances."
"Fuck you," Gerard said automatically.
"I believe you have."
Mikey threw a cushion at him.
-
An hour or so later, they were eating their Thanksgiving dinner, bickering over who the best band from New Jersey were.
"Dude, it's totally the Misfits, you can't fucking deny the Misfits!" Mikey insisted, stabbing a potato particularly violently as if that enhanced his point.
"No way, man," Gerard said through a mouthful of turkey. "Bouncing Souls, dude. Bouncing Souls."
"I've gotta go with Mikey here," Frank said. "Misfits rule."
"I'm with Gerard," Ray said. "Dude, c'mon, how can you not like the Souls?"
"It's not that I don't like them," Frank shrugged, attempting to pick up a green bean with his knife. "It's just...man, the Misfits."
"I will eat part of that turkey if you don't agree with me," Gerard threatened, jabbing his fork in Frank's direction. Frank looked shocked.
"You're a vegetarian!"
"Not out of choice," Gerard muttered, throwing his knife and fork down. "That turkey looks mouth-wateringly good." Frank glared at him, and he smiled back innocently.
"We need to open the presents," Mikey said impatiently. "I wanna know what I got."
"Yeah," Frank chimed in. "If you guys didn't get me a puppy, our friendship is over."
"If you guys got him a puppy, our friendship is over," Gerard warned.
"Let's just go open them," Ray sighed, and Gerard stuffed his last potato in his mouth before scraping his chair back and joining everyone else in the solemn march to the living room.
"Mine and Gerard's first," Frank insisted, shoving a badly-wrapped present in both Ray and Mikey's arms. Mikey ripped the paper off his almost as soon as it landed in his near vicinity.
"Oh, wow!" he exclaimed. "Dude, wow!" Mikey had recieved a t-shirt that said 'Mikey Fucking Way' on it.
"Awesome!" Ray said just a few moments later. He'd recieved a particularly gory scene of some zombies that Gerard had drawn a few months previously. He wondered where that had got to. Thank God for his organised boyfriend. He hugged both Ray and Mikey in turn, before getting a present thrown at him.
"Sweet!" Frank squealed, checking out the sparkly silver stickers that he'd recieved. "For my guitar, right?" He arranged the letters to spell the word 'Pansy', cracking a grin. "Awesome." Gerard twisted his gift upside down, trying to find some sort of place his brother hadn't sabotaged with duct tape.
"Mikey," he whined. "I can't open it." He threw it at Frank, whose nimble fingers had it open within seconds, then took it back.
"Wow," he breathed. He'd got a brand new set of oil paints - expensive oil paints. "Wow, guys, you didn't have to buy me this!"
"Ray forced me," Mikey said. "I was going to settle for a bottle of water." Gerard scowled at him, placing the paints carefully to one side.
"Thanks," he smiled at Ray, who smiled back.
"Can we see what crap is on TV?" Frank wanted to know, so Mikey turned the TV on. The program happened to be 'Bouncing Souls vs. The Misfits'. Psychic television, Gerard thought, storing that idea away in a drawer in his brain named 'shitty comic ideas'.
"Misfits!" Frank crowed, snuggling up to Gerard, his body fitting perfectly.
"Souls!" Ray shouted back, throwing a piece of popcorn at him. Frank caught it and ate it.
"Who got popcorn?" Mikey demanded, and Gerard was glad to see he wasn't the only one who hadn't seen.
"I have it now," Ray said. "And until you agree that Bouncing Souls are the best band from Jersey you're not getting any."
"Give me some!" Mikey whined, turning to Frank for support. Frank nodded.
"See," he said accusingly to Ray. "Liking the Souls makes you a cold-hearted human. First Gerard threatens to eat the corpse of a poor animal, then you're withholding popcorn from us."
"No," Ray argued. "Popcorn is for people with good music taste, like Gerard and me."
"You're a loser," Mikey scoffed, making a lunge for the popcorn. Ray held it out of his reach.
"Go, Mikey!" Frank yelled. Ray pointed to the TV, where one of the presenters was talking about Bouncing Souls.
"He likes them better too. He can have popcorn." The presenter was drowned out by the noise of Mikey and Frank protesting loudly. Gerard smiled, distancing himself mentally from the domestic scene going on in front of him.
Yeah. Middles were definitely the best.
Middles were the best part of any relationship, Gerard thought. Beginnings were awkward, because you didn’t have a clue how to go about starting it, endings were terrible for at least one person in the relationship, because, as he’d once read, ‘Love is like a rubber band – when one person lets go, it hurts the person still holding on’. That was the whole reason he tried very hard to be introverted, invisible and not fall in love. However, there was the day he’d met Frank – that had changed his whole view on life, and indeed love.
“Gerard,” he heard his boyfriend say from the doorway.
“You’re blocking my sunlight. Go away, I’m in the middle of something,” he grumbled, not turning to look at Frank.
“You’re not anymore,” Frank said decidedly. “Get up.”
“Where are we going?” Gerard asked, obeying him. He’d learnt the hard way that disobeying Frank didn’t work – he still had the terrible memories of a week without sex to prove it. (A week, though, seriously, how did Frank manage?)
“Out.”
“That’s very specific,” Gerard whinged. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” his tiny boyfriend said, flashing his perfectly straight teeth in a grin. Gerard couldn’t resist pressing his lips to Frank’s softly.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. Frank smiled.
“You’re so perfect,” Frank told him, lacing their fingers together. He pulled Gerard through their tiny, crappy apartment to the front door. Even the slightest touch made Gerard’s pulse race. He still had no idea how he’d ended up with someone so beautiful, so adorable, so hilarious…so perfect. It was a stark contrast to himself, he thought – fat, ugly, useless, worthless…a general waste of space.
“I still think you should tell me where we’re going.”
“I’m still not going to.”
“Frank!”
“Gerard!” Frank imitated girlishly, and Gerard pouted. Frank giggled, handing him his coat to put on, and picking up a big plastic bag full of what looked like presents.
“It’s not far,” he promised, seeing Gerard’s face at the prospect of exercise.
“It better not be,” Gerard muttered, pulling on his coat and shoes.
-
Half an hour later, they were still walking.
“You said it wasn’t far,” Gerard said.
“It’s not,” Frank retorted. “You walk the speed of a snail trying to outdo a tortoise. In a race of slowness. We should have taken the car.”
“You know how well I fare with cars,” Gerard replied. Frank sighed, entwining their fingers again.
“Yeah, I know all too well.” He was referring to the time that Gerard had almost killed them both in a freak accident – it wasn’t his fault the dog wouldn’t move! Frank was the one who’d insisted that he stop for it anyway, like dogs were more important than humans. Whatever.
“We’re not getting a dog,” Gerard said hastily, as he saw Frank’s train of thought lead him that way. Frank pouted.
“Why not?”
“All they do is piss everywhere, stink the household up and…exist,” Gerard complained, watching Frank’s face carefully. He felt Frank tense his hold on Gerard’s hand slightly, before relaxing it, and knew he was in a safe zone.
“I’ll win you around one day,” Frank said jovially. Gerard certainly hoped not.
-
“You dragged me the long way to Ray’s?” Gerard asked in disbelief, staring up at the apartment block that his best friend lived in. “We could have avoided going this way. We could have shortened our journey by about twenty minutes. I wouldn’t have frozen.” Frank smirked.
“I had to take you the long way. We weren’t supposed to be here ‘til about…” he broke off to check his watch. “Three minutes ago.”
“Then why did we set off so early?” Gerard grumbled. “It’s winter, in case you didn’t realise. It’s cold. I think my dick’s going to fall off.” Frank giggled. “You’re not supposed to find that funny,” Gerard added. Frank snickered again.
“I wanted to get you out of the house,” he explained. “I couldn’t stand to see you sitting there drawing a moment longer. Anyway, look, we’re here now,” he said, pulling Gerard inside. Gerard grumbled his way up the seven floors to Ray’s apartment, because the elevator had broken several years ago and still nobody had bothered to fix it, and stopped to catch his breath. Frank, the fit bastard, was absolutely fine, giggling at Gerard as he wheezed whilst knocking on the door.
“Frank! Gerard!” Ray exclaimed. Gerard managed to pant his name, and he could see Ray trying to hold back a smirk. Motherfucker.
“Smoker’s lungs,” he tried to explain, but it came out as some kind of garbled alien language. Ray seemed to understand, although he’d always chastised Gerard for the ‘disgusting, dirty, cancerous habit’.
“You should stop,” Ray chided him. “It’s a dirty, disgusting, cancerous habit”
“Shut up,” Frank said indignantly, and fuck, Gerard was glad he’d chosen a fellow smoker as a boyfriend. “Smoking calms you down.”
“You’re the only one who needs that,” Ray remarked, noting the way Frank was bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet.
“Shut up,” Frank repeated. “Aren’t you going to invite us in?”
“Please, enter my house,” Ray said sarkily.
"Will do," Frank said innocently, stepping around Ray. He gave his boyfriend a quizzical look.
"Aren't you coming in, Gee?" Gerard nodded, smiling at Ray as he entered, having regained his breath. He looked around the apartment for his younger sibling.
"Is Mikey not here?"
"It doesn't seem like it," Ray said evasively, and shut the door behind him.
"Where is he?" Gerard demanded.
"Not in the apartment." Gerard rolled his eyes. Jesus, Ray was as aggravating as Frank when he wanted to be.
"You're as aggravating as Frank when you want to be," Gerard told him, shrugging off his jacket.
"Is that a compliment or an insult?" Frank yelled from Ray and Mikey's kitchen, where he was inevitably searching their fridge for food. "Oh gross, Ray! Why do you have a turkey in the fridge?"
"Because it's Thanksgiving," Ray said patiently. "And not all of us have given up half our diet." He shot a pointed glance in Gerard's direction - what, okay, Frank wouldn't kiss him if he had meaty breath - and walked into their living room.
"It's Thanksgiving?" Gerard asked, following Ray into the living room. Ray rolled his eyes.
"You've been drawing again, haven't you?" he said, raising an eyebrow. Gerard nodded sheepishly, and Ray sighed. "It's Thanksgiving. It's not that hard to keep track of the days, Gerard, seriously." Gerard was about to reply when there was a massive crash and a yelp in the hallway.
"Mikey?" all three men shouted simultaneously, running out to see what the kerfuffle was. Mikey Way lay amidst a bunch of gifts, blinking owlishly through his glasses. All the others spoke at once.
"Are you alright?" Ray asked anxiously.
"What happened?" Frank said, staring at the mess on the floor.
"Mikey fucking Way, ladies and gentlemen," Gerard scoffed. Mikey sat up slowly.
"I'm okay," he reassured a fretting Ray before pointing a finger at Gerard. "Worst big brother ever. I'm thinking of changing my middle name to 'fucking', since that's what everyone calls me nowadays."
"I try," Gerard said modestly, reaching out a hand to hoist Mikey up. "And it's a lot catchier than James."
"Well guys, I guess it's find-your-present time," Mikey said, gesturing at the gifts strewn over the floor. Nobody moved for a moment, then there was a flurry of activity. Frank ended up with every single present balanced precariously in his arms. Gerard stared at him in wonder.
"How did you do that?" he asked in disbelief.
"Perks of coming from a big Italian family where the kids have to scramble for their presents," he said, walking into the living room. Everybody followed but Ray, who said he was going to defrost the turkey, and if they opened their presents without him, they were in deep shit.
"We won't," Gerard promised him.
"You suck, Gerard," Mikey pouted.
"He does," Frank smiled wickedly, and Mikey yelped, flailing slightly.
"Didn't need to know that!" he shrieked. "Didn't need to know!"
"Mikey?" Ray yelled from the kitchen. "What've you done to the toaster?" Mikey stilled, muttering a quick string of profanities under his breath.
"I...um. There was an unfortunate incident with a fork."
"Is this like the time there was an unfortunate incident with a space heater in the shower? And Gerard with the microwave?"
"The brothers Way," Frank smirked. "Incapable of using electrical appliances."
"Fuck you," Gerard said automatically.
"I believe you have."
Mikey threw a cushion at him.
-
An hour or so later, they were eating their Thanksgiving dinner, bickering over who the best band from New Jersey were.
"Dude, it's totally the Misfits, you can't fucking deny the Misfits!" Mikey insisted, stabbing a potato particularly violently as if that enhanced his point.
"No way, man," Gerard said through a mouthful of turkey. "Bouncing Souls, dude. Bouncing Souls."
"I've gotta go with Mikey here," Frank said. "Misfits rule."
"I'm with Gerard," Ray said. "Dude, c'mon, how can you not like the Souls?"
"It's not that I don't like them," Frank shrugged, attempting to pick up a green bean with his knife. "It's just...man, the Misfits."
"I will eat part of that turkey if you don't agree with me," Gerard threatened, jabbing his fork in Frank's direction. Frank looked shocked.
"You're a vegetarian!"
"Not out of choice," Gerard muttered, throwing his knife and fork down. "That turkey looks mouth-wateringly good." Frank glared at him, and he smiled back innocently.
"We need to open the presents," Mikey said impatiently. "I wanna know what I got."
"Yeah," Frank chimed in. "If you guys didn't get me a puppy, our friendship is over."
"If you guys got him a puppy, our friendship is over," Gerard warned.
"Let's just go open them," Ray sighed, and Gerard stuffed his last potato in his mouth before scraping his chair back and joining everyone else in the solemn march to the living room.
"Mine and Gerard's first," Frank insisted, shoving a badly-wrapped present in both Ray and Mikey's arms. Mikey ripped the paper off his almost as soon as it landed in his near vicinity.
"Oh, wow!" he exclaimed. "Dude, wow!" Mikey had recieved a t-shirt that said 'Mikey Fucking Way' on it.
"Awesome!" Ray said just a few moments later. He'd recieved a particularly gory scene of some zombies that Gerard had drawn a few months previously. He wondered where that had got to. Thank God for his organised boyfriend. He hugged both Ray and Mikey in turn, before getting a present thrown at him.
"Sweet!" Frank squealed, checking out the sparkly silver stickers that he'd recieved. "For my guitar, right?" He arranged the letters to spell the word 'Pansy', cracking a grin. "Awesome." Gerard twisted his gift upside down, trying to find some sort of place his brother hadn't sabotaged with duct tape.
"Mikey," he whined. "I can't open it." He threw it at Frank, whose nimble fingers had it open within seconds, then took it back.
"Wow," he breathed. He'd got a brand new set of oil paints - expensive oil paints. "Wow, guys, you didn't have to buy me this!"
"Ray forced me," Mikey said. "I was going to settle for a bottle of water." Gerard scowled at him, placing the paints carefully to one side.
"Thanks," he smiled at Ray, who smiled back.
"Can we see what crap is on TV?" Frank wanted to know, so Mikey turned the TV on. The program happened to be 'Bouncing Souls vs. The Misfits'. Psychic television, Gerard thought, storing that idea away in a drawer in his brain named 'shitty comic ideas'.
"Misfits!" Frank crowed, snuggling up to Gerard, his body fitting perfectly.
"Souls!" Ray shouted back, throwing a piece of popcorn at him. Frank caught it and ate it.
"Who got popcorn?" Mikey demanded, and Gerard was glad to see he wasn't the only one who hadn't seen.
"I have it now," Ray said. "And until you agree that Bouncing Souls are the best band from Jersey you're not getting any."
"Give me some!" Mikey whined, turning to Frank for support. Frank nodded.
"See," he said accusingly to Ray. "Liking the Souls makes you a cold-hearted human. First Gerard threatens to eat the corpse of a poor animal, then you're withholding popcorn from us."
"No," Ray argued. "Popcorn is for people with good music taste, like Gerard and me."
"You're a loser," Mikey scoffed, making a lunge for the popcorn. Ray held it out of his reach.
"Go, Mikey!" Frank yelled. Ray pointed to the TV, where one of the presenters was talking about Bouncing Souls.
"He likes them better too. He can have popcorn." The presenter was drowned out by the noise of Mikey and Frank protesting loudly. Gerard smiled, distancing himself mentally from the domestic scene going on in front of him.
Yeah. Middles were definitely the best.