Forget About It

Gerard doesn’t know how on earth he managed to get Frank out of the strip club. Honestly, it seemed like he was enjoying it there. On the other side of the coin though, Frank doesn’t remember to agreeing to go into the bar next door. He’d thought that Gerard wanted to get out of the strip club and then go back to the house, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. Frank is being dragged away from the strip club, and the next minute he’s watching Gerard down a few shots.

“You keep trying to fucking mess everything up,” Gerard mumbles.

“You never give me any intelligible instructions,” Frank says back.

“Because you’re not fucking listening to me when I try to, and you’re the newbie, you shouldn’t be so reckless. You are reckless though. You jump into shit, and if you keep doing that you are going to get yourself into a bad situation. I cannot even begin to handle how difficult it will be if you mess up that badly. You know who ends up having to take responsibility if you get hurt, Frank? Me! I have to take all the blame if you get hurt, and you don’t seem to get that. I’m your boss, Frank. Your fucking boss. Now, I don’t have the power to fire you, but I do have the power to suspend you, and if you keep at it, I will have no choice but to do just that.”

“But-”

Gerard interrupts him to order himself a beer, and Frank just watches, because someone is going to have to be the designated driver. Gerard doesn’t seem to be at all concerned with the likelihood that he is to become hammered, and Frank is a little surprised to say the least. Usually one doesn’t watch a guy get drunk to get rid of the anxiety of being around breasts. It’s circumstantially funny, but right now it’s verging on ridiculous.

“I don’t want to fucking hear you try to defend yourself. You are reckless, and if you get hurt it’s on my head, and I won’t let you put that on me. So either grow a pair and suck it up, or get the hell off my team,” Gerard says, “that’s all I have to say.”

Frank frowns, but doesn’t say anything in response, and for a long time he just sits on the stool next to Gerard, waiting and rolling his eyes. The guy can consume a record breaking amount of alcohol. After a while he starts trying to talk to Frank, and usually it doesn’t make sense, or it’s an extremely ill-thought out insult.

“Your face is like... really stupid,” is among one of Gerard’s various insults.

Some people have really profound thoughts when they’re drunk. Gerard is not one of those people.

“My fingers look like really pale hot dogs.”

“Yes, Gerard,” Frank says, because the dude is fucked.

“I’ve never seen that movie about the panda who knew karate.”

“That’s nice,” Frank responds.

“What was it called?”

“Kung Fu Panda.”

“No, it was Karate Panda,” Gerard says determinedly.

“I really don’t think so,” Frank answers.

“No, I’m right,” Gerard states, “who the fuck thought that was a good idea for a movie?”

“I don’t know, Gerard. Maybe you’ve had enough,” Frank answers.

“Your face has had enough,” Gerard replies and then laughs at his words that were apparently meant to be a joke.

A few minutes later Gerard starts pulling on Frank’s sleeve and he rolls his eyes, and tries to ignore him.

“Fraaaaank,” Gerard whines, and Frank is just as annoyed as he can get.

“What now?”

“I’m not usually like this, Frank,” Gerard says.

“Like what?”

“I’m not a dick to people. I’m not mean! I don’t like being mean to people. I’m not grumpy. I’m not. Really.”

“Yeah, whatever Gerard.”

“Please believe me. I’m sorry. I’m not this mean, or,” it’s very obvious that Gerard is incredibly intoxicated by the way his words slur together.

"Or?" Frank prompts when Gerard doesn't slur anything else. Gerard shakes his head and opens his mouth, but all that comes out is a burp. He slaps a hand over his mouth and laughs loudly. Too loudly if the people at the bar giving them weird looks is anything to go by.

"Frankie, you wanna dance?" Gerard asks tugging on his sleeve again, oblivious to the people giving him strange looks. He decides to disregard the use of the word ‘Frankie,’ because Gerard is incredibly stupid right now.

Frank shakes his head, "Gerard, you don't want to dance with me. You're drunk."

"No, really! I think you're cute Frankie. Do you think you're cute?"

"Yes, Gerard. I think I'm adorable," Frank sighs, playing along because he knows that's the only way to deal with the drunken Gerard.

"Thas good!" He tugs on his sleeve persistently, “‘Cause ya are.”

Frank rolls his eyes, but does not stand up. Gerard leans in a little closer to Frank which only makes things more awkward.

Gerard keeps touching Frank, almost to the point of being inappropriate, before trying to wrap his arms around Frank like an octopus. Frank puts up with it for the most part, pushing him away whenever he feels that Gerard’s getting a little too close. It isn't until Gerard accidentally pushes a drink off the counter, that he realizes Gerard needs to get out of here.

The man whose drink Gerard happened to push is not overly muscled, or even that tall, but he’s toned and taller than Gerard, and has tattoos all over. Frank’s probably got him beat in ink, but he’s bigger than both of them.

"Hey, watch what you’re doing!" the guy says, not exactly as a threat, but a warning. Gerard, being completely intoxicated, doesn't catch on.

"Of course, he’s sorr-" Frank begins to apologize when Gerard interrupts.

"Why you got p-problem?" Gerard turns to the man, and tilts his head up to meet his narrowed eyes. The man towers above Gerard until they’re practically touching, and he seems to have venom in his glare. Before he can cause any more problems, Frank pulls Gerard off of the barstool and aims for the door.

“I coulda taked him,” Gerard says.

"Yeah, you've had enough," Frank nods. He tries to haul Gerard up and slings an arm around his shoulders, but it's like trying to move a dead weight.

"Come on. Work with me," Frank grumbles, finally getting into a position where he and Gerard can get out of the bar without too much trouble.

"Frank, just... Let me walk, I'm fine. Totally fine," Gerard rambles while Frank shakes his head, annoyed. He would be more amused if they hadn't been trying to do something in the first place.

He sighs angrily and pushes open the doors of the bar, squinting his eyes looking for Gerard's car. Frank doesn’t know when it got dark, but it is now, so they must have taken a lot longer in there than he’d thought. He spots the car under a street lamp and heads for it before Gerard can distract him again.

"Fraaaaaank. Frank! Frankie?" Gerard mumbles almost incoherently, grasping at Frank's sleeve, trying to get his attention.

"Whaaat?" He groans, patting at Gerard’s pockets after realizing that he has the keys to the car, "Gerard, where are the keys?"

"In my pocket..." Gerard trails off, smiling at him. Frank just stares blankly. Gerard almost never smiles at him. The only thing that he's ever sent at him that was close to a smile was a sneer. He shakes his head and starts patting Gerard's pocket and feels the keys. He starts to slide his hand in the tight jean pocket when Gerard croons.

"Oh, Frankie. Are you tryin' to seduce me?"

Frank stares at him, barely realizing Gerard's pockets are relatively close to his crotch. He just huffs, trying to ignore the flush on his face as he retrieves the keys from their prison. Gerard keeps giggling the whole time, like a small child. He decides that Gerard is probably really ticklish, but sends the thought away.

“Mrs. Robinson, you're trying to seduce me. Aren’t you?” Gerard says which sends him into a laughing fit, because apparently quoting movies from the 1960s is the epitome of hilarious.

Frank unlocks the car and shoves Gerard into the passenger side before climbing in the driver’s seat. He starts the car all the while, trying to ignore Gerard.

“Do I make you horny, baby?” Gerard says when he stops laughing, though he barely gets it out.

The drive back to the stakeout house is amusing to both men. Frank can't help but smile as Gerard laughs and overreacts to simple things, like fire hydrants, which Gerard seems to find funnier than old movie quotes. It’s so unusual to see Gerard so open and happy, Frank’s in shock. As they reach the home, he’s upset to see that Brendon’s car is parked there, and he hopes that he doesn’t need to explain things.

Frank half-carries and half-drags Gerard into the house. Frank is about ready to crash, and sees that, thankfully, neither Brendon nor anyone else is in the living room right now. There’s minimalistic furniture, but he drags Gerard to his bedroom upstairs and Gerard still manages to trip on something. Frank is fairly sure that Brendon and the others are in the observation room, where they’ve been watching the house across the way, but they either don’t hear or don’t care about Frank and Gerard. He steps through the doorway and guides Gerard to his bed, then turns to leave.

"Frankie?" Gerard calls, not willing to let him leave just yet. The man looks down at the bed like it’s repulsive and unclean, then looks at Frank.

Frank sighs and stops where he stands to look at Gerard, "Yes?"

Gerard stumbles towards him and gets into his personal space within seconds, leaving Frank confused. He tilts his head up to meet Gerard's glazed eyes.

"Stay, yeah? I'll make it worth your while," Gerard whispers, his hot breath fanning over the shorter man's face. Frank’s shocked to say the least. What’s happened to Gerard?

When Gerard doesn't get an answer, he takes things into his own hands. Literally. He grabs a handful of Frank’s ass and hauls the younger man’s body towards his. Immediately Frank tries to pull out of the embrace, but Gerard has a firm grip.

"C'mon Frankie. Don't you wanna have fun?"

Frank’s almost tempted, but quickly realizes what's wrong with the situation, "No Gerard. You're drunk. I- this is wrong. Get some sleep."

“No I’m not!” He says, “I’m a little tipsy, and I feel kind of fuzzy but I’m not drunk.”

“Yes you- Whoa, what the hell are you doing?” Frank says after Gerard’s hand strays down to a suggestible area of Frank, and he pushes Gerard off of him.

“Nothing!” He says and giggles stupidly. He’s definitely drunk.

“Gerard you are not making life decisions while you’re drunk okay? Just go to sleep or something.”

Finally freeing himself, Frank turns off the light and leaves the room without a second glance.

Well that’s not something that happens every day. Gerard is a horny ass drunk, that’s for sure.