Six Months

Six months.

Six motherfucking months.

It really wasn’t that long of a time, but to Gerard fuckin Way, it felt like an eternity. Six months until he would be in front of a crowd again, adoring fans screaming his name like it was going out of fashion. Six months until he felt the adrenaline pumping through his 31 year old veins as he belted out ‘Helena’. Six months until he would be stuck in the orange tour bus for hours on end, his band members all driving him crazy to the brink of insanity.

But he would be damned if he wouldn’t miss it all.

The four A.M wake up’s because Frank had a bad dream and needed a hug. The constant saving of Mikey from electrocuting himself, because he really didn’t understand that you couldn’t put metal in a microwave. The endless hours where Ray wouldn’t let him leave the mini studio, until whatever thought he was having was seriously considered. Hell, he would even miss going into the bathroom after Bob had been in there for a fucking long time.

My Chemical Romance was who he was. He lived for that band and his whole life revolved around it. He wasn’t sure he would be able to go a whole six months without the life he had become so accustomed to.

That wasn’t Gerard’s only predicament. He didn’t know what the hell he was going to do with himself for six months. He was certain that sketching would grow old within the first month and then what? He supposed he could always start writing new lyrics, but he knew Ray would get mad at him for ringing in the middle of their break because he ‘really wanted a rift to go with the lyrics’. He didn’t like the idea of his lyrics just sitting without music to accompany them, so that thought was soon scrapped.

The wife had asked him if he wanted to come on tour with her, accompanied by a seductive smirk that Gerard was sure meant he would get more then just a chance to listen to the band every night. While he appreciated that offer, he had turned it down. He didn’t want to tour with another band, he wanted to tour with his band. It was almost like touring with another band would be an insult to his own. Plus, Gerard didn’t really like the idea of being seen as the groupie. When Gerard relayed all this to his wife, it had received an angry snarl and a slamming of the bedroom door.

Gerard had slept on the couch that night.

He had considered taking up a hobby. He had never tried pottery, and he was sure with his artistic talent that he would be quite accomplished at it. Or at least be able to make his Mom a nice mug for mother’s day. However after researching it on the internet one quiet afternoon as the bus traveled to New Orleans, he was struck with the realization that the hole in his heart could not be filled through simple clay making and that idea was scrapped.

There was another reason Gerard was dreading the inevitable break. It would mean six months without Frank.

Six months without the lingering glances and longing looks. Six months without quick blow jobs in the bus bathroom, and sometimes in the bunks when they were feeling cocky. Six months spent without Frank, were not six months worth spending in Gerard’s opinion.

He didn’t know how to put words to describe the relationship between Frank and himself. If he tried, he supposed he would call it convenient. Frank was always there if he needed him to be. He was always willing to listen to whatever crisis Gerard was having, and then talk some well needed sense into him. He made amazing coffee just the way Gerard liked it, and had a seemingly endless supply of cigarettes. He was funny and affectionate, and had this ability to pull Gerard out of the worst moods that the rest of the band was both in awe of and envious of. Best of all, in Gerard’s opinion, he made an amazing fuck buddy. He was always up for it, always energetic, always passionate and at the same time had this amazing way of being so caring yet so fiery. He was like a firecracker in bed and always made sure Gerard was having an equally good time. Which, of course, he was.

The wives didn’t know about the special relationship the two men shared, both men figuring they didn’t need to. What happens on tour, stays on tour. It was a concept Gerard’s own wife was familiar with herself, although it didn’t stop her prying questions that came every once in a while. However Gerard considered himself lucky in that regard, as Frank had it far worse. Frank would always come and confide in Gerard when his wife had been prying into tour life once more. She wasn’t as stupid as she looked, she knew there was a lot of things her husband neglected to tell her that would make her toes curl. Frank would usually scoff in disgust when she would come out with another ludicrous accusation, even though most of the time it was actually true, and hang up the phone. She would then ring back an hour later, apologizing profusely and begging his forgiveness.

Secretly Gerard preferred it when they were fighting. He was able to comfort Frank and give back to the man who gave so much to him. He was really going to miss not seeing him everyday. He was going to miss it a whole fucking lot.

It was only one week into their break and Gerard was bored stiff. He had already rearranged all the future in his modern apartment, attempted cooking a traditional Italian meal and patched up the holes in his many jeans. Except he kept the hole near the crotch in one pair of pants, it was something both Frank and his wife liked.

He sat down on the newly moved sofa and looked around the room. He knew there were many things he could be doing, but each just seemed so unappealing. Now that he wasn’t on tour, he wanted so badly to be back on tour. He didn’t think he would miss it so much, but everything just seemed so much better on tour. Everything.

Even his relationship with his brother and wife was rocky. Both had rung up on separate days to see how he was and were subjected to half an hour of Gerard ranting about why breaks were unnecessary and how much he couldn’t wait to get back out there. Mikey had simply sighed and said a tentative goodbye to his brother, while his wife had once again suggested he come and join them. This was once more met with a flat no and she had hung up on him.

She hadn’t rung him since.

Gerard’s eyes wandered up to his extensive horror movie selection and wondered if he should invite Frank over for a movie marathon. It was a plausible excuse to have the man over and Gerard would readily admit that he was missing Frank terribly. He gave a sigh, running his fingers through his rapidly growing hair. Sure he was missing Frank like nothing else, perhaps even more then his wife, but how could he be certain that Frank was missing him? What if Frank wanted nothing more then a break from Gerard, and for once be able to fuck his wife more then he fucked Gerard. This was one of those rare times Gerard felt slightly guilty for what he and Frank got up to, however that guilt quickly passed when an image of Frank shirtless popped into his head. He was only human after all.

Gerard decided that the best way to pass the next few months was to simply sleep as much as he could. Bears fucking did it, why couldn’t he?

He slowly walked down the hall to his bedroom, pulling off his shirt along the way and unbuckling his belt. He trudged into his room, throwing his shirt on the floor and pulling down his pants so all that remained was his stripy boxers. He climbed into the unmade bed and into the sheets that hadn’t been washed for the past few months. It was gross, he knew, but his wife was never home and he just could not be bothered.

He laid awake for a while, waiting for sleep to take him and he couldn’t help but let his mind drift, his overactive imagination dreaming up the perfect scenario in which he would somehow magically end up back on tour. He tossed and turned in his dirty bed, willing the feeling of homesickness to leave.

The sound of the doorbell ringing suddenly echoed through the empty apartment. Gerard poked his head up out of the sheets and stared in the direction the sound had come from, almost believing he had dreamed it.

The sound of it ringing again told him that it was actually real, and he leapt out of bed, bounding towards the front door. He immediately started trying to guess who it would be, the most likely being his brother and the least likely being his wife who was currently in the U.K. He reached the door, unlocked it and pulled it open. He gave a little gasp when he saw who was behind it, because standing there in front of him with a sheepish smile was none other then Frank fuckin Iero.

Gerard tried to calm his nerves by making coffee, his hands just shaking as he pulled out two mugs. He glanced at the man who was sitting on his sofa, flicking through one of the magazines Gerard had been reading. Upon seeing Frank, Gerard had immediately pulled him into a hug, never wanting to let go. He didn’t think not seeing the man for one week would have this affect on him. He had then ushered Frank in the door and sat him on the sofa, rushing away to the kitchen for a chance to collect his thoughts.

Gerard breathed out deeply, reminding himself Frank was just his friend and not his husband, no matter what Gerard’s secret fantasies told him. He would never admit to anyone one of the best dreams he had ever had was one where they had be married, living in a white picket fence house with three perfect children and a dog for some reason named Herbert. He really was being ridiculous, and he was a married man. They both were.

He carried the freshly made coffees out, placing one in front of Frank and sitting down on the sofa next to him, though he did sit one seat away.

“Thanks,” Frank said, smiling at him as he almost studied Gerard. He was looking at him so curiously, taking in Gerard’s every feature as he sipped his coffee. Frank gave him a half smile, it was almost as if he had forgotten how beautiful Gerard really was.

“So,” Gerard started, wanting to break the silence they had found themselves in. “What are you doing here?”

Gerard was sure he wouldn’t see Frank until at least the first month was up. He was sure the man would have locked himself up in the new marital home he had recently purchased, only coming out when the need for food became a matter of urgency. Gerard was sure seeing him would have been the last thing on Frank’s ‘to do’ list.

“Mikey called me. He said you were having a hard time adjusting,” Frank explained. Gerard felt his happiness at seeing the man failing with the realization that this was simply a pity visit.

“Oh,” was all Gerard had to say.

Frank gave a shrug. “And, you know, I missed you.”

Gerard couldn’t help but let a smile slip onto his face. “Oh,” he said, much brighter this time.

Frank wrinkled his nose. “I know, I suck hey? It’s barely been a week and already I’m crawling for your doorstop.”

Gerard could not have been more pleased with this information, feeling incredibly satisfied with the knowledge that Frank had wanted to see Gerard, as much as he had wanted to see him.

“You do suck,” Gerard agreed. “Luckily for you, I suck as well.”

Frank raised his eyebrows at this. “Yeah? Can’t go a week without me too?”

Gerard shook his head. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

Frank gave a flick of his hand. “Eh, at least we suck together then,” was his wise words.

Gerard nodded, smiling at Frank and staring at him, almost as if he was unable to believe he was really here.

“So, how’s the wife? Happy to have you home, I imagine.”

Frank grimaced. “She was, yes. Now I’m not so sure.”

Gerard frowned and signaled for Frank to elaborate.

Frank ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Well, she wasn’t really happy when I came running here.”

“Oh.” Gerard felt a pang of guilt, wishing he wasn’t so pathetic that his brother had felt he had no other option but to ring his best friend to save the day. “I’m sorry.”

“Gerard,” Frank said, a serious tone to his voice that was rarely heard and he placed a hand on Gerard’s knee. “There is nowhere else I would rather be.”

Gerard just smiled at him, and for the first time since tour had finished, he felt truly at home.

“Star wars!”

“Fuck Star Wars, I don’t want to watch that shit. The Notebook!”

Gerard’s eyes bulged out of his head. “You want to watch The Notebook? Fuck, you’re a sap, Frank,” he said to the guitarist who was glaring at him.

“What? It has a cute story and the ending is amazing,” Frank argued defensively.

Gerard rolled his eyes. “Do you even have a dick, Frank?”

“Well, I think you already know the answer to that one, Gerard.”

Gerard couldn’t help a small blush form on his cheeks. “Star Wars, Frank. I haven’t seen it in ages,” Gerard whined.

It was Frank’s turn to roll his eyes and scoff. “You just want to get more ideas for your Star Wars slash stories,” he said accusingly, as Gerard turned an even darker shade. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re typing so furiously on your laptop late at night.”

Gerard was defeated.

“Fine, we’ll watch the god damn Notebook,” he grumbled, flopping down on the couch. Frank clapped his hands gleefully and bounced over to the DVD’s, grabbing the one he wanted and slipping the disc into the DVD player. Frank shot Gerard a triumphant grin and sunk down on the white sofa next to the man, who was glaring spitefully at him. Gerard folded his arms and purposely didn’t look at Frank, however his tough demeanor soon vanished when the man rested his head in Gerard’s lap. Gerard’s fingers soon found themselves tangled in Frank’s freshly washed hair, gently playing with the strands.

Gerard had, of course, blubbered his way through that movie. No matter how much he protested watching it, he couldn’t deny he wasn’t affected by it. Tears had started spilling down his cheeks halfway through the movie and from then on he was a goner. The end of the movie saw him being a complete wreck, practically sobbing as the romance movie ended.

Frank gave a yawn and lifted his head as the credits rolled, turning to look at Gerard. He laughed when he saw the front man weeping and then wrapped his arms around him, comforting the emotional man as he sobbed into his neck.

“It’s so beautiful,” Gerard whimpered. “They were so perfect for each other, so in love with each other.”

Frank stoked Gerard’s hair and whispered, “I know, Gee, I know.” Maybe watching The Notebook with Gerard hadn’t been the best idea.

“A kiss, Frankie, I need a kiss,” Gerard choked out, his emotions getting the better of him.

Frank pulled Gerard’s face up and gave him a small kiss on the lips, lingering for a few moments before nuzzling his head into Gerard’s neck. He planted small kisses on all the skin he could reach, knowing Gerard just needed to feel loved and close to someone for a few moments.

“More kisses,” Gerard demanded and Frank obliged, bring his lips up to meet the singers.

The two simply kissed softly for a few moments, no world existing outside of the one they had created. It was sweet and sensual, exactly what Gerard needed at that moment.

“Thank you Frankie,” Gerard whispered when he finally pulled away. He swiped at his face, brushing away some of the moisture on his cheeks. “Are you going home tonight, or staying here?”

“I thought…I might stay here? If that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah, of course. Your sure your wife won’t mind?” Gerard asked, concerned that he was effectively ruining his friends marriage with his somewhat pathetic ways.

Frank gave another flick of his hand. “Nah, I already told her I would. When she got mad she told me not to bother coming home tonight, so yeah. If I don’t stay here, I’m on the streets,” Frank explained and then gave Gerard puppy dog eyes and jutted out his lower lip. “You don’t want me to sleep on a bench, do you?”

Gerard wrapped his strong arms around Frank and kissed him on the top of his head. “Never.”

“Good,” Frank murmured, thoroughly enjoying the contact he had been without for the past week. “Want to go to bed now?”

Gerard looked at the clock on his DVD player. It was just barely ten.

“Now?” he asked, confusion etched on his face.

“Now,” Frank repeated, with a smirk that told Gerard the guitarist intended to do more then just sleep. Gerard considered what Frank was saying very carefully. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, because of course he wanted to. But wouldn’t it be like cheating if he wasn’t on tour? What happens on tour stays on tour was the firm belief he held, but this wasn’t on tour. It would almost be like he was required to tell his wife of his activities while she was away.

He stole a glance at Frank, who was now staring at him so innocently that Gerard’s mind was instantly made up. He wanted this. He wanted to be close to Frank, because Frank to him was home. He never felt more comfortable with anyone else, even his own brother and his own wife.

“Okay,” Gerard whispered, allowing Frank to take his hand, lead him into the bedroom and into the bed with the dirty sheets.

Gerard woke up the next morning naked, cold and very much alone. It certainly wasn’t the way he was expecting to wake up, today being the first day that he had had someone occupying his bed the previous night for quite some time. He gave a dramatic sigh and forced his body out of the bed, pulling on the first pair of pants he saw and not bothering with a shirt. He wondered briefly where Frank had gone, though he wasn’t overly concerned. He wandered out into the kitchen and was greeted with a sight that surprised the front man. Frank was standing in front of the stove in just Gerard’s boxers from the previous day, flipping over a pancake. He did it with such an ease that Gerard could almost believe the man had been doing it all his life. Almost.

“Frank?”

Frank whirled around, beaming a brilliant smile. “Good morning Gerard!” He chirped.

“Morning Frankie, what are you doing?” Gerard questioned, although he already knew the answer.

“Making us breakfast. As hard as it was to get out of bed this morning after waking up to your sexy self, I thought I could try and impress you with my cooking skills,” he explained, licking the mix from the spoon.

Gerard laughed. “Frank, the thing about us being friends for years is I already know you suck at cooking and have about three things you do well.”

Frank mocked being shocked, putting his hands on his hips. “How rude!” He said indignantly.

Gerard just rolled his eyes and reached out towards the mixing bowl to dip his finger in. Frank instantly smacked his hand away.

“Ow, motherfucker,” Gerard complained, nursing his hand.

“No touching!” Frank told him sternly, flipping over another pancake.

Gerard glared at his bare back. “You did,” he grumbled, even though he wasn’t even mad. Not in the slightest.

“I had to make sure it wasn’t poisonous first,” Frank replied like it was obvious.

Gerard flicked his sore hand, which was only just barely stinging. “You know this could be broken!”

Frank turned around once again and laughed, walking up to Gerard and taking his hand. He gently kissed it, letting his lips linger as Gerard turned to mush.

“Better?” Frank asked him.

Gerard could hardly breathe, so he was surprised when he found the strength to nod.

“Good,” Frank whispered. “Now go make us some coffee.” Frank leaned up and pecked his lips, before whirling back around to continue making his pancakes.

Gerard had no idea Frank could be so sexy in the mornings.

Frank’s pancakes were surprisingly good. He had become a genius overnight and woken up early, setting out to the supermarket to pick up what he needed, which had included ice cream and strawberries.

He had even set the table nicely, even going so far as to drag out Gerard’s good silverware. Gerard had been suitably impressed, even more so when Frank had waited on him hand and foot.

“They were fantastic, Frankie,” Gerard said appreciatively, rubbing his full stomach. Frank looked up from where he was doing a crossword and pulled his glasses off to see Gerard properly.

“Really? Liked them?” Frank asked hopefully. “Told you I could impress you with my skills.”

“Consider me thoroughly impressed,” Gerard reassured him.

Frank rubbed his hands together like an evil genius would. “My plan worked perfectly then,” he rasped, giving a maniacal laugh at the end. “So, what are we going to do today?” Frank asked in his normal voice.

Gerard shrugged. Normally he would find something completely random to do that didn’t involve leaving his apartment and then sleeping the rest of the day. Yesterday had been experiment with makeup day which had involved Gerard ending up looking like a drag queen. The day before that was trying to knit with chopsticks as needles.

“Stuff, I guess,” was Gerard’s vague reply.

“Cool,” Frank said, pushing his glasses back up his nose and trying to think of what teenagers television show stared Melissa Joan Hart.

“You sure your wife won’t want you home?” Gerard asked, because it had to be said. He was getting worried that he was heavily imposing on Frank’s marriage, even though he didn’t mean to. Gerard by no means wanted Frank to leave, but he didn’t want to seem insensitive by not at least providing Frank with an outlet to leave.

“Nah- hey what was that show called with the teenage witch?” Frank asked, although Gerard could tell he was avoiding the subject.

Gerard sighed and skulled the rest of his coffee.

“Sabrina the Teenage Witch.”

Gerard rang his wife later that day, trying to fulfill the role of being a good husband. She chatted excitedly about their tour, and how amazing it had been going. Gerard was pleased for her, and tried to ignore the pang of jealousy he felt as she spoke about last night’s crowd.

“Seriously babe, they were so into it. It was like nothing I had seen before,” she gushed excitedly.

“Really?” Gerard asked, only half interested.

“Yes! It was SO good!” His wife seemed to realize he was losing interest and changed the subject. “So, what have you been doing, sweetie?”

“Not much,” Gerard replied. “I was just sleeping mostly until Frank came over. It’s cool having him here; we’ve just been hanging out, watching movies.” Fucking in your bed…

“Frank’s there?” Gerard’s wife asked in a flat tone.

“Yeah.”

There was silence for a moment before, “Gerard. You just got off tour with him, I’m sure he wants to spend time with his wife. You don’t need to be around each other everyday, all day.”

“Hey- I asked him that too but he said he wanted to be here so…”

His wife let out an audible sigh of exasperation. “Well I hope you two have a wonderful time together,” she said sarcastically and hung up.

Gerard groaned and put his head in his hands on the table in front of him. Moments later he felt warm arms wrap themselves around his body from behind, and a head rest on his back. Frank and Gerard stayed like that for a while, Gerard felt so comfortable he started to feel drowsy. Eventually Frank released him and sat on the chair next to him, putting his hands on the singer’s thighs.

“Problem?” Frank inquired, looking concerned.

Gerard, for some reason, shook his head and forced a smile. “No problem,” he replied. “I’m just kinda tired.”

Frank stared at him for a moment before looking satisfied with his answer and said with a seductive smirk, “how about we put you to bed then, young man?”

Gerard didn’t know when exactly he and Frank’s sex had passed the point of fucking and became love making, but he knew it had happened. It hadn’t been gradual either, he had been suddenly hit with the realization after one night in which they had been loving and caring, instead of fast and rough. The passion was always there, but the difference was that now there was love behind it.

Gerard laid on Frank’s bare chest, as the guitarist stroked his now sweaty hair. He had his arms around Frank’s torso and their legs were intertwined. They were connected with each others bodies in almost every way possible, completely tangled together; save for the most intimate way they had been connected only moments ago.

Gerard let out a content sigh as the midday sun filtered through the room, and planted small kisses on any patch of skin of Frank’s he could reach. He twisted his body around and kissed his way up Frank’s chest, tasting the salty flavor of sweat before he met the mans lips. They laid on the bed, exchanging soft, simple kisses for a long time. Gerard had been craving this attention for a week now, however he did think it was his wife who would be giving it to him and not his best friend.

“Gerard,” Frank whispered, not wanting to break the intimate mood the pair had found themselves in.

Gerard raised his head, twisting his body to look at Frank. “Yeah?”

Frank bit his lip, looking like he had something to say but was hesitant to speak up. Gerard reached over and intertwined their hands, giving the man the encouragement he needed to talk.

“Gerard, my wife left me.”

Gerard felt his eyes widen, he simply stared at Frank who was looking slightly apprehensive. He opened his moth to say something, but felt no words come up. It was safe to say that the news had left Gerard speechless. He was already thinking of the implications of this announcement, for the band, for Frank and also, himself.

“Say something, Gerard, anything.”

Gerard swallowed heavily, his brain slowly processing the information. “Why?” was all he managed to choke out. Frank and his wife had been the perfect couple. They had been together forever and had survived through whatever life had thrown at them. He didn’t understand how it could have failed so easily and so soon.

“She thinks’ I’m in love with you.”

Gerard almost choked on his own saliva.

“That’s- it’s ridiculous,” he gasped out, placing his hands over his chest.

“I don’t think she’s wrong either.”

Gerard blinked once, taking in what Frank had just said.

“You…”Gerard trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

Frank just nodded and shrugged, seemingly at peace with the news he had just sprung on Gerard.

“Frank,” Gerard started, taking a deep breath. “You know that I love you. A lot more then I should…but I also love my wife.”

Gerard dared not look at Frank, fearing the man’s upset face would be too much for him to handle. He did love Frank dearly, he didn’t know what he would do without him. He was Gerard’s everything, the front man couldn’t fathom a life without his guitarist. The problem was, Gerard had no idea what to do now. He did love Frank, he was in love with Frank but he had always managed to push those feelings aside and get on with life. Perhaps if Frank had broken up with his wife years ago then the two would be together to this day. There were just too many things keeping them apart now, too much water under the bridge.

Gerard was married. He was married to a wonderful woman who he did love, though admittedly not as much as Frank. There was no way he could just break up with her, it would be entirely selfish of him. He also knew that Frank wouldn’t carry on with him as they did on tour anymore. Their convenient friendship was now a thing of the past.

“It’s okay, Gerard, I know,” Frank said softly, reaching over and pushing Gerard’s hair back. “But I’m not going to kiss you anymore. I either want all of you, or none of you.”

“Frank,” Gerard choked out, his heart beating rapidly. “I don’t want to leave my wife, but I don’t want to lose you.”

Frank smiled sadly at him, a knowing look in his eye. He slipped out of the bed and silently dressed, Gerard just watching the man. Frank finally slipped his shoes on and walked over to the bed, leaning over and kissing Gerard’s head, letting his lips linger.

“I guess you have a choice to make,” Frank whispered, his warm breath tickling Gerard’s face. “I’m going to stay at a hotel for a while, look after yourself.”

With a last smile, Frank walked towards the door before blowing Gerard a final kiss and disappearing into the hallway. Gerard waited until he heard the front door shut and threw his body back on the bed in frustration, whimpers spilling from his mouth.