You Can't Push It Underground

Frank’s first thought when he wakes up is, “oh shit.”

There’s a space next to him, which really should have a Gerard in it, but there is no such Gerard. There’s a wrinkle of sheets, and a pillow that smells an awful lot like his shampoo. Frank’s heart pretty much falls out of his chest, because he jumps to the worst conclusion of all quite quickly.

He left, he got freaked out. They’re moving too fast. Frank shouldn’t have asked him to stay over, he messed up! Oh god, what if he was bad? What if Gerard had second thoughts?

If the proper word is finally, then Frank finally managed to get Gerard to sleep with him, though he doesn’t like the way that sounds. He wasn’t really trying, is the thing. He didn’t really care about sleeping with Gerard, which is blasphemy when it comes to Frank, but the truth is that he didn’t. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t fun, but really, it’s not the most important thing he and Gerard have done together.

Frank’s practically hyperventilating, and his face is heating up when he tries to calm himself down. The way the bed spread is thrown off makes it look like Gerard dragged himself out of bed, and tried not to wake up Frank. He reaches his hand out, and is relieved to find that the blankets are still warm. That means that at least he didn’t leave in the middle of the night. Maybe he went to the bathroom.

He calms his breath, and then pulls himself out of bed. Frank’s feet protest to the cold hardwood floor, but he stands up anyway. He looks down, at least he has underwear, but he grabs a shirt, making sure that it doesn’t smell too bad, and pulls it over his head.

Frank peers around the room, but no one is there. It’s only when he opens the bedroom door that he hears talking. Frank frowns, wondering what’s going on, and perks his ears up to figure it out. He’s only just woken up so his brain is a little slow still. It’s coming from downstairs. To his relief, one of the voices is Gerard’s. So maybe Frank is a little paranoid.

There’s a total of three voices and that’s what keys Frank in. The Sinclair’s. They’re at the door. He almost cries at the fact that Gerard is actually answering the door. He’d said, the first time they met, that he would do no such thing, but he is. Gerard is at the door, with the Sinclair’s.

This all started so that Frank could find someone who’d do that. Brendon found him a bunch of boyfriend applicants for this exact reason. It’s hard to believe that it started with a bet. A bet! How menial that sounds now, when Frank has the best prize in the world. Brendon may have won, true, but Frank won what really matters.

Frank creeps down the stairs and he can hear the conversation more clearly.

The door opens into the house, which means that it’s hiding most of Gerard from sight, when Frank finally steps onto the landing. He inches over, and hears Mrs. Sinclair trying to give Gerard a lecture about the benefits of accepting Jesus into his life. He doesn’t seem overly fond of it, by the tisking sounds he makes.

Frank walks up behind him, and wraps his arms around Gerard’s waist. He’d thrown on his shirt and pants which makes him much more dressed then Frank, at the moment.

“Oh shit, I tried not to wake you up,” Gerard says, forgetting about the scandalized Sinclair’s in front of him. Frank puts his chin on Gerard’s shoulder, and winks at his neighbors. Part of him is really happy to get to show off his phenomenally gorgeous boyfriend, but most of him is just glad that he’s there at all.

“Excuse me,” Mr. Sinclair says.

“You’re excused,” Frank says, making Gerard snort.

“We were trying to have a conversation,” Mrs. Sinclair says.

“I see that. So you met Gerard though, what’ya think?” Frank asks, rhetorically.

Mr. Sinclair makes a noise and says, “uhhh.”

“Yeah I think he’s pretty cute too,” Frank says, and Gerard bites his lip looking at the way Frank is draped around him.

“But I didn’t-” they still taking turns speaking, and it’s really creepy.

“I know, but I know you were thinking it,” Frank says, and Gerard grins. Both of the Sinclair’s are looking at Gerard’s hair specifically, and it’s kind of funny to see their response to nothing more than his head.

“Is that all you wanted?” Gerard asks, “We kind of wanted to go back to bed. Right?”

“Definitely.”

If Brendon answering the door shirtless had scared them, than Gerard scares them even more. Brendon was a ploy obviously, though they don’t know that, but Gerard is about a million times more suggestive, even when fully clothed.

“W-we’ll be leaving.”

“Good,” Frank says before kissing Gerard over his shoulder. The angle is awkward, but he doesn’t really care, because Gerard is worth it.

Maybe Frank only kisses Gerard to piss off the Sinclair’s, but he highly doubts it. He’s really not in control of himself sometimes, because his mind has a strange reaction to being near Gerard.

He kicks the door closed, not taking his lips off of Gerard’s.

“They’re fucking assholes,” Gerard says a moment after the door closes. He turns around, grabbing both of Frank’s hands in his own. Frank can’t help but blush at the way that Gerard looks at him.

“I know they are,” Frank replies, “You scared me when I woke up and there was the distinct absence of an attractive redhead.”

“I’m sorry,” Gerard frowns, “but the doorbell had been ringing for like twenty minutes, and you were way too cute to wake up.”

“They hate you, you know,” Frank says.

“What?” Gerard says mockingly, “are you saying your homophobic neighbors don’t like me, your gay boyfriend?”

“That’s precisely what I’m saying.”

“What a strange incident. That’s like saying a fox dislikes a chicken or something. It’s just so strange.”

“Foxes really like chicken actually, they just don’t like live chickens.”

“Don’t you dare correct my animal similes,” Gerard says.

“You’re such a dork, Gerard,” Frank rolls his eyes, “C’mon.”

He grabs Gerard and drags him back up the stairs, two at a time. Gerard stumbles a few times, because Frank is actually quite fast for a guy with such short legs.

He only stops at the foot of the bed where he wraps his arms around Gerard’s neck, and pulls him down. Gerard could be with Frank for a million years and never get used to how good a kisser the guy is.

Three months he’s been with Frank now. Three months since Brendon and Mikey held that intervention. Four months since they met, and Gerard had thought Frank was the most arrogant person he’d ever met. It’s not exactly untrue, but he has more dimensions than just that.

Frank is pretty impressed with himself. Three months is about two months and 29 days more than his longest relationship. He’d thought it likely that he would have another freak out, but so far it’s been smooth sailing. That’s not to say that it always will, because Frank is still afraid of serious commitment, but things change. Really, the goal is in finding the right person, and then your outlook changes. Frank’s outlook is changing everyday with Gerard.

That’s one of the best things about him. He really likes the guy. Really really really really really likes the guy. So much so that ‘like’ isn’t even the right term.

“I love you, you know,” Frank says, against Gerard’s lips.

Gerard gets a look of surprise on his face and stares at Frank, “That’s the first time you’ve ever said that to anyone isn’t it?”

“Other than the hamster I had in fourth grade, yes,” he replies, and he doesn’t look nervous, he just looks really sure and proud of himself.

“Well I’m glad to have the same honor bestowed upon me as the one on your fucking hamster,” Gerard says, “and I love you too.”

“Really?” Frank giggles.

“No, I’m lying,” Gerard replies sarcastically. Frank usually understands sarcasm more than he does seriousness.

Frank chuckles, and then pulls his neck down again, and kisses Gerard like he’s afraid to lose him. It’s like Frank is intentionally trying to suffocate them both, but Gerard doesn’t really mind.

Gerard opens his eyes and something in the corner of the room catches his eye. Actually it’s the lack of something in the corner of the room is what catches his eye.

“Uh, Frank? How come you have a guitar stand without a guitar?” Gerard asks.

Frank turns his head and looks at it. Seeing the stand makes him grin toothily.

“No reason,” Frank says, “I’m just a man who is true to his word.”