I Didn't Mean to Fall in Love (But I Did)

Gerard wakes up covered in sweat. He’s not certain why he bolted up so quickly, but there’s the distinct feeling within him that he’d heard someone screaming. He looks around his room, which isn’t as dark as he’d like it to be. For some reason, the lamp on his bedside table is on.

He pulls himself up and rests his back against the headboard for a long moment before deciding that he’s going to have to get up to pee, or he won’t get back to sleep. There’s a cramp in his leg, which makes him groan when he throws one foot and then the other off the side of the bed. He shakes his head, willing the pain to go away, but it doesn’t. His leg just hurts like a bitch right now, and he has to hope it’ll subside in a few minutes.

The ember numbers of the clock on his bedside table tell him that it’s four in the morning. He has a hard time remembering what happened last night. He recalls puking once or maybe twice. Than Mikey brought him tea, which, when Gerard looks back on it, may have been spiked with a sleeping pill. That may not have been a bad idea, because Gerard had been a pretty huge mess last night. He’d have appreciated knowing he was drinking flavored sleep water, but it’s too late to argue now, because that was several hours ago.

When Gerard stumbles out of his room he sees a form on his couch. His immediate instinct is to guess that it’s Frank, having fallen asleep in front of the TV like he does sometimes on weekends. When that happens, Gerard will turn the TV off and put a few blankets on him to let him sleep. He always looks so precious like that. So innocent compared to his usual boisterous self. That used to just be something Gerard would do because Frank was his best friend, but now as he thinks about it, there was something fairly intimate about it.

Gerard knows however, that the person there isn’t Frank. They’re too boney, not like Frank.

He wonders why Mikey fell asleep on his couch, but decides not to question it, because he really does have to pee.

Mikey’s eyes open as Gerard passes him, but Gerard doesn’t notice it. He turns his head slowly to watch his brother head towards the bathroom, and he lets his head fall back against the armrest of the couch.

Mikey doesn’t have the heart to tell Gerard how he’d been woken up by his screaming. He’d decided, when hearing Gerard rustle around in his room, that just feigning sleep would be the best idea.

A minute later when Gerard returns Mikey closes his eyes shut again, and waits for Gerard to go back to sleep.

“I know you’re awake, Mikes,” Gerard says.

“I’m not awake.”

“You just talked.”

“I’m a sleep talker,” Mikey replies.

“You’re a sleep conversationalist is what you are.”

“I don’t talk much in the waking hours, I guess this is just to balance things out,” Mikey says.

“Alright for real, Mikey, why are you here?”

“Just wanted to keep an eye on you. That’s all. In case... never mind,” Mikey says.

“In case what?” Gerard asks, “In case I get my hands on some alcohol, and ruin my life even more than I already have?”

“Where did you hear me say that? I did not say that.”

“It was implied,” Gerard replies.

“No it fucking wasn’t, you’re so depressing. And has anyone ever told you that you’re rude as fuck when you’re sad?” Mikey asks.

“Thanks for understanding my emotional plight,” Gerard replies, bitterly.

“Oh god, I’m sorry. I’m being insensitive. Sorry. I didn’t mean to be. I’m just, like, dude, you can’t let Frank ruin your life,” Mikey says pulling himself up from his spot a little bit.

“It’s too late though! It would have been one thing to have realized I had a crush on him five years ago, but it’s a completely different thing to have been in love with him all that time and not even realize it. I can’t do anything about this. I can’t nip it in the bud or anything, that flower has bloomed, Mikey, and there ain’t a thing I can do about it.”

Mikey looks down and frowns. There’s not much he can really say here, because he’ll either run the risk of pissing Gerard off, or saying something that he shouldn’t. Patrick had tried telling Frank that Gerard was in love with him apparently, but he didn’t believe it. Gerard might be the same. Mikey certainly doesn’t want to test him right now, in the middle of the night. He’s not having a good time as it is. Mikey doesn’t want to test those boundaries.

“I’m going back to bed,” Gerard says.

“Yeah, goodnight,” Mikey says, and he frowns.

~*~*~*~

To be honest, Gerard had thought that when Frank ran out of the apartment last week, it would be a one, maybe two day thing, depending on how mad he was. He hasn’t seen Frank in a week though, and he’s losing his mind.

When Frank gets back he doesn’t know what the hell he’s going to do. He kind of wants to punch Frank right in his pretty little face, and he also wants to make out with him, or drape his arms around Frank and not let him go. He still really wants to kill him though.

It feels kind of surreal not seeing Frank for a week now, and every single second of every night has been filled with Gerard just thinking about what he might be doing with Aaron. It’s the worst feeling he’s ever experienced in his entire life, and he wants Frank back. He wants Frank to come home, so that he can yell at him and then hug him.

It’s the ninth day since Frank’s been gone and every time someone is at the door, Gerard still calls out the same thing.

“Frank?” he shouts and pops his head out of his room.

“No, Pete,” Pete says walking into the room. “Still not back yet?”

“No,” Gerard replies shaking his head. He’s pretty much cried out all the tears his body can create, and hasn’t been able to in a few days. Mikey says he’s dehydrated, which would explain the massive panging headache that follows Gerard wherever he goes. He’s not thirsty though, and trying to drink anything, including water, repulses him. He’s basically the definition of miserable. In the next edition of the Merriam Webster dictionary, they will define the word ‘miserable’ with literally just a picture of Gerard’s face.

“I’m sorry,” Pete says.

“When do I admit defeat and rent his room?” Gerard asks.

“Oh c’mon, Gerard. He’ll come back! Give it a few more days.”

“I tried to find him at work the other day,” Gerard says, “he wasn’t in the diner. I waited in a booth for an hour and a half, but he wasn’t there.”

“Did you ask about him?”

“I was too afraid. What if his coworkers told Frank and I sounded more desperate than I already am? I just miss him,” Gerard says, “actually no. I don’t know if there’s a word for how much I want him back here. I don’t think there’s a word for how much I fucking hate that he’s been gone, and I hate not knowing what his life is like anymore. It’s killing me, and I can’t fucking stand this.”

“But he will come back,” Pete assures.

“Will he? It’s been nine days. Nine fucking days, and I haven’t even heard a peep from him. He hasn’t come home yet. He’s probably sleeping with Aaron, and talking about how stupid I am. He’s probably been wearing Aaron’s clothes, fuck, I hate this. I can’t stand him being gone anymore. I can’t stand it. It’s literally the worst feeling I’ve had in my life. I hate him being gone.”

“I know, I do too. I mean, you have it a million times worse, and I’m sorry,” Pete says, “really I am. When he comes back I’m going to murder him or something, god he’s just... he’s being a dick.”

“I bet Aaron has something to do with it,” Gerard scowls.

“Gerard, please,” Pete says giving Gerard a sideways look, “you’re exaggerating.”

“I am not! I told you what he said that night!”

“Yeah, you did, but you were pretty angry. You’re probably painting him in a different light than-”

“Don’t fucking test me, Pete. I miss Frank, but I’m not afraid of punching you in the face for taking Aaron’s side on this. He’s controlling, and I don’t like him! Aaron’s this perfect guy, right? Perfect guy, with white teeth, and a stupidly hot accent, and he’s also a prick. Everyone has flaws, okay? His is that he’s possessive, and he’s got this sense of ownership over Frank, and that is not okay. That’s probably why Frank’s been gone so long, I hate him. He could have Frank tied up in a cage or-”

“Okay Gerard, since you’re so adamant about him being rude to you after dinner, I’ll believe you on that, but listen to yourself. I can assure you of one thing, and that is the fact that Frank is not tied to a pole in Aaron’s basement,” Pete says.

“So he’s tied to a pole in Aaron’s wine cellar?”

“That’s basically the same thing as a basement,” Pete replies.

“But it’s not!”

“No it’s not, you’re right, but Frank isn’t tied to any poles anywhere,” Pete says, “I mean, probably. If he pissed off a stripper, there’s a possibility that he got handcuffed to one, but that’s really unlikely.”

“What would Frank do to piss off a stripper?” Gerard asks.

“I can’t think of anything off the top of my head, but it’s more likely that that’s what happened rather than Aaron caging him up,” Pete states.

“But you never know do you? It’s always the sane looking ones who end up being fucking psychos. You think people saw Norman Bates and were all like ‘oh yes, this fine gentleman runs a really creepy hotel, he must be a murder raging lunatic’? Because if anybody thought that, they wouldn’t have fucking checked in!” Gerard says, impassionedly.

“Well, okay, but I feel like you’d sense it,” Pete says.

“Oh yeah, tell that to all the people on Hannibal,” Gerard says.

“Well no, I think Hugh Dancy is just an idiot on that show, but that’s beside the point.”

“He’s an idiot with a nice face,” Gerard mutters as he pushes himself against the kitchen counter dejectedly. He’s not having a great week, he’s been watching a lot of TV by himself. Gerard now knows way more about Veronica Mars than he ever intended to know.

“Gerard you’ve gotta be an adult about this. I know you like Frank, but Aaron likes Frank too, and right now, Aaron has him. You don’t.”

“Way to rub it in my face,” Gerard mopes.

“I’m not rubbing in anything, I’m stating facts that you already know. I’m not saying it doesn’t suck, because I know it has to hurt, but you’ve got to accept it as it is right now. Believe me, Gerard, I am rooting for you two, but I can’t do anything to make him come back, or make him stop dating Aaron,” Pete says.

“We could rent a truck,” Gerard starts, “and bring Aaron to a secluded part of the state, where our break line could ‘accidentally fail,’ and we can see where things go from there.”

“Gerard, you’re plotting to murder your roommate’s boyfriend.”

“Well when you say it like that it sounds kind of malicious,” Gerard replies.

“That’s because it is malicious, you dipshit,” Pete says.

“Don’t call me names, fuckhead, I’m upset!”

“You’re so stupid,” Pete says rolling his eyes.

They stare at each other for a few moments until Gerard’s forehead collapses against the counter again. His head has been predominately attached to flat horizontal surfaces for a week now. He’s had multiple instances of accidentally getting papers stuck to his face when he tries to pop his head back up.

The best example of this would be a minute later when there’s a rattling at the door, and then it opens. Gerard pops his head up to see who’s at the door, but luckily he’s facing the right way so he doesn’t have to turn around.

That’s when Gerard sees Frank for the first time in nine days, with an ad for Victoria’s Secret stuck to his face.