Forget About It

Nothing really out of the ordinary happens the rest of the day besides Gerard’s hangover. Mostly Gerard is just ducking behind walls to hide from Frank. It still hasn’t completely sunk in that he legitimately tried to make out with Frank last night.

He distinctly remembers the attempt, but he can’t understand how or why he would ever try to do that.

Before he dwells too much on it, there’s a sound of the back door being pulled open, and Gerard lifts his head to see Patrick and Hayley enter. They’d tracked the men today by car, and it looks like they got to go on an adventure that didn’t include naked women.

Brendon is leaning against the counter with a book in his hand when they enter, and only looks up at the huffing noise Hayley makes.

“Hey so, we went out to the pharmacy that these guys have been regularly visiting,” Hayley says, sitting down at the counter.

“Yeah, and?” Gerard asks.

“Well, that’s the thing. We asked for a copy of the receipt when they left, as well as the receipts for their last four trips, and it’s just... it’s not making any sense to me. I don’t get it.”

“What don’t you get?”

Patrick interjects, “well it’s the things they’re buying. It doesn’t really add up. Multiple different occasions where they had an almost identical shopping list. Duct tape, bleach, paint thinner, and acetone. At first it looks like a beginners guide to torturing a victim, but then we dig a little deeper.”

“I don’t like the sound of torture,” Frank says, and Gerard turns to see that he’s entered the room. Gerard doesn’t say anything, but he silently agrees.

“I think it’s highly unlikely that they’re torturing anyone, I’ll say that much,” Patrick states.

“That’s not all though. There’s some strange stuff, but it’s not bought as regularly as the other items. Sulfur, among them, which is extremely difficult to buy in bulk, as is peroxide and acetone. All three of those can be used in drugs, but bleach? You don’t put that in a drug. At least not one I’ve ever heard of. All of those can be found in drugs like methamphetamine, but it’s the combination of the bleach and paint thinner that’s getting to me,” Hayley says.

“Well, I hate to blow a hole in your theory, but a lot of people do use paint thinner in quite a few inhalants,” Gerard says.

“Not as much these days. There’s more efficient ways, but it’s not off the table.”

“What’s so wrong with the idea that they’re using paint thinner for its ingredients though? That’s plausible. There’s different chemicals in both of those,” Gerard asks.

“Yeah but isolating them when they’re already liquefied, what’s the point. If you need a chemical in the paint thinner why don’t you buy it separately?” Patrick points out.

“I don’t know, that’s a good point,” Brendon adds.

“But maybe it’s a substance that’s hard to obtain anywhere else,” Frank suggests.

“What brand of paint thinner are they buying?” Gerard asks, “Get ahold of the chemical listing, and we’ll figure out what might be in the stuff that they’re after.”

“Maybe you’re over-thinking it,” Frank says, “maybe they don’t want a specific chemical in the paint thinner, or the bleach or anything. Maybe they just want the paint thinner.”

“What? Do you think they’re remodeling in there?” Gerard asks sarcastically.

Hayley interjects, “they have bought several boxes of nails if that’s anything.”

“Well paint thinner isn’t just used for the obvious,” Frank says, “There’s a whole slew of things you can use it for. Bleach and paint thinner have a very similar purpose if you’re trying to clean up heavy duty shit.”

“Why would they need to keep a meth lab overly hygienic?”

“It’s just a suggestion,” Frank says.

“Well, I’ll run the ingredients by the drug lab to see if there’s a common bond between them. Maybe it’s not meth,” Hayley says.

“What? A drug that uses bleach? Nails?” Brendon asks, skeptically.

“You never know these days,” Patrick shrugs, “though it is hard to believe.”

“Bleach is used in date rape drugs. Nails is something else entirely. Hardware and shit, it’s probably unrelated,” Gerard says. “But you don’t find bleach in a drug for recreational use, and you certainly wouldn’t use a roofie for the high.”

“Well people do fucked up things for the kicks,” Brendon shrugs.

“Duct tape,” Gerard whispers more to himself then to anyone. That, even though it’s probably the most menial item on the list is what sticks out to him the most. Why on earth do they need duct tape?

“Sorry, what?” Hayley asks.

“No nothing... that’s what throws me off,” Gerard says. “Why duct tape?”

“Leaky faucet?” Brendon prompts.

“No, not in bulk.”

“He’s right, that would be one fucking big leak,” Frank says.

Gerard tries to shrug off the fact that Frank just agreed with him, and goes on, “putting aside the idea of kidnapping, duct tape in large quantities is usually only found in school projects. So unless they’re helping out their little niece who’s in a Girl Scout troop, something sketchy is going on.”

“You’re worried about something,” Hayley says, “What are you afraid it’s for?”

“Honestly?” Gerard raises an eyebrow, “insulation.”

“Why would that be so scary? What’s the insulation for?” Frank asks.

“I don’t want to think about it. I hope I’m worrying about nothing.”

The rest of the day passes by slowly. Gerard is watching the numbers change on the clock almost religiously, waiting for an acceptable time to head off to bed. He doesn’t want to be the last one to go, so he waits for Patrick to knock off for his room, and Frank follows behind a few minutes later.

Brendon and Hayley are on night watch today, so Gerard’s room is empty when he finally pulls himself up and under his covers.

Gerard doesn’t know what to do with the memory of the drunken version of himself coming onto Frank. Intolerable, annoying, insufferable, attractive Frank. He cringes again just thinking of himself groping Frank mercilessly against his will. What if Frank had decided to take advantage of him? He shudders just thinking about it.

He didn’t though, and something can be said about that. Frank may be a bloody great dickhead, but at least he has basic human decency. Gerard had literally thrown himself at the guy, and Frank could have so easily taken advantage of him, but he didn’t. It makes it hard to hate Frank as much as Gerard wants to.

Gerard still can’t believe he did that, drunk or not. Well one thing’s for sure, he is not going to give Frank the satisfaction of knowing he remembers. If he doesn’t remember of his drunken night, then he cannot be held responsible for the crimes he committed under the influence. He turns around and wraps the blanket tighter around him. He doesn’t know how he’s going to face Frank now, knowing what he did. Knowing what deep down inside, he still kind of wants to do.

What if Frank figures it out though? What if Frank sees the way he now looks at him, and he makes fun of Gerard for it? He’d sooner slam his hand in a door then have Frank think for a minute that he liked him. It’s not that Gerard likes Frank, it’s that Frank is good looking.

Gerard’s always kind of liked the adrenaline kick from hating something, so in a lot of ways he likes Frank because of the way he makes him so furious.

Gerard sighs, frustrated and closes his eyes tightly. He knows he’s not going to get much sleep tonight.

Meanwhile a floor away, and no less muddled, Frank tries to cast his thoughts away.

Frank sits down on his bed and rubs his face. This thing with Gerard and the stress from the case is all piling up on him, making him more tired than usual. He lays down and has to hold back a relieved groan at the pressure on his back. He shuts his eyes and wriggles happily in his bed, ready for sleep. Except he can’t get to sleep because his asshole boss is on his mind with his stupid face, and stupid eyes, and his stupid lips. Everything about that man is so unbelievably stupid, and yet oh so tantalizing.

Why do people always want what they can’t have? Cravings are always stronger when you know it isn’t possible. He shouldn’t crave Gerard, he hates him, but here he is and his thoughts are a contradiction to that.

It’s just lust, Frank tells himself. He’s not actually attracted to him, he just likes the way that Gerard’s pants fit him. He doesn’t like Gerard. He likes the idea of Gerard, and the way that he’s so passionate about his job. Frank can’t get the thoughts to go the fuck away.

He turns his head to look over at the sleeping Patrick in the bed across the room. It reminds him of being a kid at camp, and having to room with other kids. It’s different under these circumstances though, because they’re trying to arrest people. He wishes he could be in his own bed, safe from anyone’s watchful eye.

Frank knows it’s a dangerous place to be, but he lets his mind go back to the night where Gerard had been so close to him, that Frank could feel his body’s warmth. Could feel his hard-on on his hip, and lips on his neck, brushing against his ear. Frank tries to fight down a shiver at the memory but fails miserably. He feels himself getting aroused at the memory and is suddenly angry. He has to stop thinking about the man that is only a few rooms away. So close, and yet he hates the stupid fucker. Why can’t Gerard stop entering his thoughts? Frank decides he hates Gerard even more because of how many times a day he winds up thinking about him.

He is completely furious that Gerard would play with him like this. What was Gerard thinking? Hell, what was Frank thinking? Who does Gerard think he is? What does it all mean? Most of all, why the fuck does he enjoy it? He’s supposed to be a federal agent, and he’s always thought that there was some sort of composure in that, but he sees now that that is far from true. No one has any clue as to what they’re doing and it aggravates him.

Frank feels the beginning of a headache coming on due to all the questions that haven’t been answered. His blood pumps in his ears, and his eyes hurt from the way they roll up in his head when he thinks back.

He wishes even more now than a minute ago that he was alone. It’s not like he can really take care of things with Patrick right there. Though he is very thankful that it’s not Gerard he has to share a room with. That would be awful. He’d probably have woken up to Gerard holding a pillow over his mouth, or had Gerard put a pillow over his mouth and not wake up at all.

Frank sighs again, frustrated and throws an arm over his eyes. It’s going to be a long night.