The Joy of Illness

„O god, Frank! Since you don´t do ANYTHING in here all day, you could at least tidy up some of your messes!”, a pretty annoyed Gerard Arthur Way called after his boyfriend as he entered the hallway of their house, slammed the door shut behind him and lazily kicked off his shoes (putting them in the ceiling high shelf which originally had been put up for their books but know served as a repository for the couple´s countless pairs of shoes).

“Frank!”, he kicked some random shit out of his way as he went to search for the younger.
(Believe it or not, this TOOK time, even with their commensurate small house. Especially if Frank didn´t want to be found.)

How the smaller boy managed to create such a chaos in such a small amount of time (while the elder was working at his gallery) was still beyond Gerard.

But since Frank NEVER did anything to help Gerard in the house and Gerard, when he finally got home after an beyond all bearing long day at work, nothing else wanted to do besides cuddling up to his sweet boyfriend on their worn out couch, it just pissed him of.

“Damn, at least answer”, the artist grumbled, feeling more like his mother than any time before as he marched through the hallway until he heard some retching noises and turned to their bathroom, unnecessarily lightly knocking on the door ere he pushed it open and revealed the slumped down silhouette of the little guitarist, holding back his dark streaks whilst heavily getting sick.

Instantly forgetting about their messy Foyer and front room, Gerard kneeled down behind the sick boy, reaching out to hold back the shorter which had slipped out of Frank´s grasp.

“Hey baby”, he mumbled to Frankie´s ear once he´d stopped coughing and carefully pulled the younger to his chest and in between his knees.

“H-hey Gee”, he weakly whispered back as Gerard softly nuzzled his head in Frankie´s neck, his hands gently rubbing his stomach in an attempt to make him feel better without causing another wave of nausea.

“You wanna lay down for a bit?” the elder asked after a couple of minutes in a soft voice.
“Mhm…”, Frank hummed quietly but didn´t made any attempts to get to his bare feet by himself.

Silently rolling his eyes, Gerard scooped one arm under those small shoulders and under Frank´s knees ere he slowly rose to his feet and went to their bedroom.

“You know, if there was an apocalypse you´d be the first one to die because of a cold or something like that”, Gerard told him as he gently laid Frank down on their bed and went out one more time to get some bottled water and a bucket.

As much as he loved his boyfriend, he wasn´t keen on him puking in their bed or on the floor because he couldn´t make it to the bathroom in time.

“… you angry with me?”, the younger asked without looking up as Gerard sat down beside him.
“I was just kidding, you know-“, Gerard looked up with a surprised gaze.

“Haven’t you said something about me ‘not doing anything at home all day’? I didn´t get all of it…”, he mumbled.

“Ah… no. It´s just been a pretty long day and I was surrounded by messes all day”, Gerard shrugged, raising his right hand to softly stroke Frank´s pale cheek ere he rested the back of it on his forehead.

“God, you’re burning up. Since-“, Gerard started with a worried gaze but was interrupt by the smaller boy, pushing him back while more or less ripping that plastic bucket out of his hands.

“Awe, sugar…”, the elder mumbled; his long fingers slowly drawing invisible pattern into Frank´s back while indeed boy threw up violently.

“… s-since noon”, he croaked out between two bouts of vomit.
“We´ll never go to that pub again, will we?”

“Never”, Frankie quietly winced as he slowly took a sip of water; remembering that weird food, they’d been served yesterday evening as they tried out the new opened ‘Irish Pub’ at the end of their street.

“W-why are you not sick?”, Frank complained with half closed eyes as Gerard re-entered the bedroom after he´d washed out the bucket.

“I´m half Italian and Scottish. I think I´ve already eaten worse than some weird soup and noodles”, he told Frankie with a light smile and pulled the blankets over him.

“You want me to sleep in the living room tonight so you have it more comfortable in here?”, he softly asked as Frank yawned quietly and snuggled further under the soft, scarlet covers.

“Stay with me… Please?”, he asked in a small voice. He knew how bitchy he could be when he was sick, which he was quiet often (thanks to his weak immune system), so he´d totally understood if Gerard didn´t want to stay with him.

“Sure, sugar”, the artist smiled ere he quickly changed into some baggy sweatpants and a Queen-hoodie which was similar numbers too big for him and climbed under the covers too; his warm arms instantly gently wrapping around Frank´s waist. Who slowly twisted himself within Gerard´s arms until he was able to bury his nose in the crook of his neck.

“Tomorrow it´ll be better”, Gerard promised and trailed one hand up to softly stroke his boyfriend’s hair as said boyfriend quietly winced again.

“It´s still disgusting”, he mumbled against Gerard´s jaw line.
“Poor thing.”

Seconds later:
“Frank, if you puke in here, I´m going to kill you, no matter how much I love you”, Gerard nicely told Frank as he heard him swallowing hardly.

“T-then let go”, the elder did as he was told and Frank hurried to the bathroom once more.

Knowing, that Frank probably didn´t want him to come after him, Gerard stayed in bed until the small, his favorite washed out pyjama-wearing, figure of his boyfriend re-entered the room and let himself fall down on the bed beside the artist.

“C´mere, baby”, Gerard laughed lightly as he pulled the suffering boy to his chest and pressed his lips on his sweaty temple.

“Make it go away”, Frank demanded childishly as he tightly snuggled up to his boyfriend.
“Awe, I would if I could, sugar”, he whispered gently, “Tell me what exactly you want me to do and I´ll do it”, he promised.

“Sing the ‘kitten-song’.”
“Se- Seriously?”, Gerard pulled away to look in Frankie´s hazel green eyes, checking his temperature once more with the back of his hand.

“Please?”

“Uhm, of course”, Gerard mumbled, still not completely sure, how to react to his lover´s childlike pleading ere he silently cleared his throat:
“Soft kitty,
Warm kitty,
Little ball of fur.
Happy kitty,
Sleepy kitty,
Purr, purr, purr” humming the melody one last time, Gerard pressed his forehead against the younger´s.

“You´ve cooled down”, he mumbled silently to Frank´s less hot skin, earning a soft hum for an answer.

“Sing it again?”, Frank asked sleepily pressing himself as tight against the elder´s chest as possible.

Quietly chuckling, Gerard repeated that silly little song over and over again until he noticed that Frankie´s breathing had evened out and he´d fallen asleep.

“Sleep tight, sugar”, he pressed seven light kisses on Frank´s cheek ere he carefully tightened his arms around the, for once, peacefully sleeping boy, buried his nose in his soft streaks and let the sleep overtake him too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Frankie?”, Gerard rubbed the last remains of sleep out of his eyes as he glanced on the strangely empty side of bed, where actually his boyfriend should be. Lazily rolling out of bed, the artist huddled further into is hoodie as his bare feet made contact with the cold floor and he left the bedroom. Pressing his sleeve-covered palm over his mouth, Gerard yawned loudly whilst finishing his impossible long way to the front room, where probably his boyfriend was; doing god-knows-what.

“Hey, babe”, grinned when he stepped through the door, entering the, as he noticed by now, neatly tidied up room. ‘Neatly’ as in completely stripped of everything that wasn´t their couch, TV, a couple of bean bags and pillows and the hopeless over filled shelves of books, CDs and DVDs.
From where the artist stood, he also thought to notice, that even their collection of the last three had been re-sorted in a new way.

“Frankie?”, he couldn’t help but giggle quietly as he finally spied the smaller boy; curled up to a little ball on the couch; Pepper´s, the couples beloved puppy, tightly snuggled up to Frank´s stomach.
“What´re you laughing at?”, a sleepy voice mumbled.

“You”, Gerard chirped as he plopped down besides Frank and swiftly pressed his lips on his exposed neck.

“Gee-Gee, stop it”, it was Frank´s turn to giggle as his boyfriend climbed on top of him, covering every inch of his skin he could reach with tiny kisses until Peppers run off and Gerard was able to re-arrange their position, so he laid on his back and Frank was cuddled up to his chest, his hair a soft veil of dark streaks which flowed over Gerard´s upper chest.

“Guess you´re better then”, the artist smiled softly while his slender fingers slowly drew little circles into his boyfriend´s back.

“Finally”, the smaller boy mumbled to the thick fabric of the hoodie; his own hands placed at each side of the elder´s neck, he slowly started to play with the longer strands.

“The room looks great”, Gerard somehow managed to press his lips on Frank´s forehead.
“Mhm”, the younger nodded, “took me all morning.”

He yawned silently ere he popped himself up on his elbows and quickly kissed the elder´s lips, earning a grin from Gerard who tightened his arms around Frank.

“You´re so cute”, the artist smiled as Frank wrapped his arms around his neck, their noses pressed together.

“I love you Frank Anthony Iero.”
“Love you too, Gerard Arthur Way.”