When We're Both Thirty

Gerard really should have thought this through more. He should’ve considered who he was talking to before he agreed to anything. He should have expected this. He should have anticipated some sort of deception, because this did not go at all the way he had expected. Really, it went the way it was all intended to, but Gerard is just really disappointed in how gullible he is.

He really needs an app that reminds him not to believe a single word that comes out of Mikey’s mouth. Often he’s lying out of his ass and Gerard really should be used to this. It’s not new. He can’t believe he’s still falling for these things. He likes to believe the best in people, and he also likes to think that Mikey doesn’t have the tendency to be a compulsive liar when he’s trying to get Gerard to do things.

Gerard was expecting food. That’s all he wanted. Just some food because he’s hungry and he’s had a very confusing day, so he just wanted to eat something nice that can’t be bought on the clearance rack at a convenience store. Maybe it was his hunger that distracted him from the obvious gaping hole in everything that Mikey had said.

So that’s how Gerard ends up standing in the middle of Frank’s apartment wishing that the ground would open up and swallow him.

“How is this my life?” Gerard asks the air around him. “How am I even here?”

“Gerard, stop talking to yourself,” Mikey calls to him.

“I’m the only one who seems to understand how dumb this situation is though.”

“You’re free to leave you know,” Frank replies, “I’m not stopping you.”

“Yeah, but I have no money. Like, I don’t have cash for a cab and you’re an asshole who just has to live nowhere near a subway stop,” Gerard says. “I was planning on Mikey paying for my ride home.”

“And I will,” Mikey says, “but we’re here now, and I need to puppeteer the both of you into admitting you like each other before we leave.”

“But we don’t like each other,” Frank says.

“So you say.”

“We don’t, Mikey. How many times do I have to tell you that?” Gerard says.

“No number of times will ever convince me,” Mikey says, “I know you like each other. I mean, I already knew Frank liked you, but Gerard I can see it in your eyes that you like him too. You’re just too cowardly to admit to anyone, including yourself.”

“Wait, hold up,” Frank says, raising his hands as if he’s about to surrender, “I do not recall ever saying that I like Gerard.”

“You literally say it every few seconds,” Mikey says, “its subtext, but you are like a broken record. You just keep repeating it, and it’s annoying me. I’m trying to get you two to admit it to each other so that I don’t have to fucking deal with you anymore.”

“I resent that.”

“You were meant to.”

“Asshole,” Gerard murmurs.

“You’re just now figuring that out?” Mikey says.

“All you Ways are completely insane.”

“He’s got a point,” Mikey nods.

“I have absolutely no blood relation to Mikey. We just found him wandering along the street and took pity,” Gerard says.

“You do realize we were friends when he was, like, born, right?” Frank says.

“We were three,” Gerard says.

“What a coincidence. That’s how many IQ points the two of you have put together,” Mikey says. Frank elbows him in the rib which makes Mikey grin back at him like he’s proud of himself. Actually, that’s probably why.

“So what is on your agenda, Mikey?” Gerard asks, “Are you just going to lock us in a room until we take our clothes off?”

“Don’t be silly,” Mikey scoffs, brushing him off. “If I was going to lock you in a room together, I’d take your clothes with me before closing the door.”

“That’s a really disturbing thought,” Frank says. “I mean, I think that’s how they get pandas to mate or something?”

“You’re not as cute as a panda,” Gerard says.

“Well that’s because I’m cuter,” Frank shrugs.

“The self-confidence you have is extremely ill-placed. I’d be more on the self-deprecating side if I had a face like that.”

“Gerard, everyone in this room knows that you are lying through your teeth. You find Frank just as attractive as he finds you. Which is to say that you two wouldn’t even need my help to rip each other’s clothes off if you were locked in a room together.”

“You know, we could team up and lock him in a room,” Frank suggests.

“No, I don’t have enough time to go to the emergency room,” Gerard says.

“Why would you have to go...” Frank drifts off when he catches a look of the glimmer in Mikey’s eyes.

“I will hurt you if you so much as think about it, Iero.”

“Trust me when I say that Mikey’s threats are a lot less open then my own. If I threaten to rip your head off and feed it to alligators, I’m totally exaggerating, but Mikey’s got some weird ass habits and I wouldn’t put it past him,” Gerard says.

“You never told us what it was that you were planning to do, Mikey,” Frank says, ignoring Gerard’s words as he usually does.

“Well ideally, the two of you would look deeply into each other’s eyes and then make out, but I don’t feel like that’s likely to happen just yet, so I’m going to push you as close together as I possibly can.”

“You’re delusional.”

“You are,” Frank agrees.

“See! I’ve already got the two of you on the same side!”

“That side involves wanting to push you out of the window,” Frank says.

“Yeah, but it’s further progress than anyone else has been able to make,” Mikey says, picking himself up to his feet and walking across the room to Gerard.

“What are you doing?” Gerard asks when Mikey grabs his wrist and drags him across the floor to where Frank is looking just as confused as he feels.

“I’m immature,” Mikey says, “and don’t you forget it.”

“What?” Gerard asks, before Mikey grabs Frank’s wrist and attempts to make them hold hands. He does not succeed because they both whack him in the shoulder before he even gets their hands to touch.

“Well I tried. Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“Yes we can,” Gerard says, “you’re stupid. You knew that wouldn’t work, I don’t even know what game you’re playing.”

“Maybe I can recreate the scene from Lady and the Tramp. I need spaghetti,” Mikey says.

“Or maybe Frank and I can recreate the scene from The Fellowship of the Ring where we chop your fucking head off.”

“I’m doing the best I can!” Mikey says, “I’m the only one here who’s trying to do what’s best for you guys. Like, I’m trying to set you up with your soul mates. How many people in here are actually trying to knock the sense into you two that you’re made for each other?”

Frank starts, “We are not-”

“Shut up, okay. The grownups are speaking,” Mikey interrupts, leaving Frank with an open mouth like he’s questioning the meaning of life all of a sudden. “I’m trying to help you two, but you’re both so stupid. Think about it though. You have the most perfect story to tell at parties ever. You get to tell people that you were childhood friends but then you hated each other, and then a bunch of years went by where you still hated each other and then one day Gerard’s effervescent, gorgeous, genius, and heroic brother stepped in to make you two realize that you were in love with each other and have been for, like, twenty five years.”

“In what way are you heroic?”

“I’m the hero of your story who pushes you two together after all these years,” Mikey says, the ‘duh’ being apparent in his voice without him needing to say it. “Your story is basically a Disney movie. Or, well, maybe more of an Indie movie. Too many dicks for it to be a Disney movie. And if you were wondering, I mean that in two different ways. The first being that you are gay and thus there are more dicks in the equation than a Disney movie would typically have, and the second being that both of you are complete dicks.”

“So, Gerard, tell me more about that cutting his head off thing,” Frank says.

“I’ve got you two talking. Connecting. This is what I need. Go ahead though. Talk about how much you hate me. It’s something at least. I mean, we all know that no insult you could possibly come up with is applicable to someone as amazing as me, but I’ll play along if it means that you’re talking.”

“We just need to make it through twenty five more days and then we can pretend we never knew each other,” Gerard says, more to himself than to Frank.

“Oh Gerard, dearest brother, you don’t think I’m going to give up that easily, do you? I will keep pushing you until I die. I will even shove you together in the afterlife. In fact, I will rise from my fucking grave just to make sure you end up together. I literally will not rest until you marry each other and have a bunch of little adopted babies who have the best uncle in the world.”

“Frank doesn’t have any siblings, Mikes,” Gerard reminds him. “That means that you would be my kids’ only uncle, and you are certainly not the best. Probably the worst.”

“I think the worst uncle in the world would probably be Mitt Romney,” Frank says, “Or, like, Satan or something.”

“Did you just compare Mitt Romney to Satan?” Gerard asks, “We might have more in common than I thought.”

“I can see what’s happening, but they don’t have a clue,” Mikey starts to sing before Gerard flicks him in the temple.

“Why am I here if all you’re going to do is suck on your thumb and whine about us not being together?” Gerard asks.

“Because I promised you food and I intend to deliver on that promise.”

“You’re paying for my food too then,” Frank says, “call it incentive to not choke both of you. I’m not even sure who’s annoying me more right now.”

“Right now? It’s definitely Mikey.”

“Yeah,” Frank nods.

“See?” Mikey says, “This is what I’m talking about. Getting you to build a bond between your hatred of things. Except, maybe you could direct this conversation more in the direction of how much you love each other.”

“He was dropped on his head as a child,” Gerard says. “Repeatedly.”

Frank snorts, “Wasn’t that the reason why we weren’t even allowed to play with him when he was a baby? Because they dropped you too?”

“Actually I think that relates more so to the number of times he’s hit his head as an adult. Gerard’s still not very smart and regularly hits his head on things,” Mikey says.

“Well I’ve hit my head a few times. Mainly headboards,” Gerard says.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Frank responds.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of your jealousy,” Gerard says.

“Jealousy? You’re right. I am jealous. I wish I could be one of those guys who slams your head against a fucking block of wood.”

“I’m taking that as admittance to wanting to fuck me,” Gerard says.

“Your logic is the most irrational thing in the world. How on earth am I admitting to anything?”

“Frank, let me explain the innuendo to you,” Mikey says, putting an arm around him to demean him. “Is that what it is? An innuendo? I don’t know the proper term, but it seemed to go over your head there. See, Gerard was implying that he has a lot of sex, because that’s usually why you hit your head on a headboard. So, Frank, by saying-”

“Mikey, I understood what he was saying, get off of me,” Frank says, pushing him off. “It’s just that I really like the picture of repeatedly hitting Gerard with a block of wood.”

“Mikey, if I don’t get food sometime soon, I’ll just walk home,” Gerard says, abruptly ending whatever the hell they were talking about. It’s not really classifiable as a conversation when it’s just a marathon of insults.

“Do you really want to get murdered?” Frank asks. “It’s like seven at night. No way you could walk home across half of the city and live to tell the tale.”

“Fair point. Mikey, I will steal your wallet and then I will go home and by a bunch of things on ebay.”

“You will do no such thing,” Mikey says. “But you’re hungry then? What was the census on spaghetti? What else is romantic? I hear chocolate is an aphrodisiac. Also bananas and I feel like that might make more sense for the two of you considering the shape of them. I’ll literally get you any food that might get you in the mood to open up your hearts... or possibly your zippers.”

“Mikey,” Gerard starts, “the only way you could get Frank and I to like each other is if we were Sims.”

“Or the imperius curse,” Frank adds.

“Right. You could only get us together under those two circumstances. Food just ain’t gonna cut it,” Gerard says.

Mikey looks at him for a moment like he’s trying to read Gerard’s mind. He probably is reading his mind actually.

“I’m going to write that down,” Mikey says, grabbing his phone from his pocket.

“Why? Mikes, what are you doing?”

“I’m writing that down, because I’m going to quote that when I give the best man speech at your wedding,” Mikey says.

“I don’t know whether it would do anything to even correct him at this point, or if we should just let him go on and fuel his misconceptions of our nonexistent relationship,” Frank says, “then again, it might be fun to tell this story at his funeral after we hold him down and drown him in a sink.”