When We're Both Thirty

Gerard stands in front of Frank’s door for a good five minutes with his heart racing so fast it’s probably going to make the speed of light feel bad about itself. He can barely even breathe right now, because he doesn’t want to do this. Gerard’s not in any position where he’s okay with being around Frank. It just baffles him that he has to do this, because this just sucks.

Gerard almost considers forgetting the phone entirely and letting it stay there forever, because then, he can avoid Frank for the rest of their lives. He doesn’t have any missile launch codes on that phone, it’s not a huge deal, really. Except he kind of likes his phone, and it was kind of expensive, and he doesn’t have any money for a replacement. He also has pictures saved on that phone that he probably won’t want anyway, but he doesn’t remember how much of his stuff is actually on there. He really can’t just leave it. Not when he knows he can get it back.

He would be content to pretend he’d never known Frank though. He would be okay with leaving and never looking back, because from here, he doesn’t really have to have Frank in his life. He can put up with a disappointed mother, an irritated brother, all that. Anything to not see Frank. Anything to stifle this stupid crush he has.

That’s what he keeps telling himself it is. It’s just a crush. Nothing major. Just a small little crush that he’ll be able to kill if he waits long enough. Gerard’s not sure he really believes in the phrase ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder.’ He hopes he doesn’t believe in that phrase at least. Because, what if being away from Frank makes things worse? What if he wants Frank even more? That could be catastrophic on so many different planes. It’s not even worth thinking about.

He doesn’t know how to avoid this inevitability though. If he stays away from Frank he might want Frank more, but if he gets too close, he might still really want Frank as well. There’s just no foreseeable situation where he can say with certainty that he won’t want Frank. Even if Frank were dead he might still not be any better. He’d probably feel worse, because then he’d be filled with those fears of what could have been. That longing sounds even more painful than the other two options he has.

Everything’s all just so fucked up.

Frank is hot, and Gerard really did think that he was just going to be able to swallow that knowledge without it having to affect him, but that didn’t happen. He thought that being attracted to Frank physically would be as far as it would go. That’s not what ended up happening either. It’s driving him insane that he can’t get rid of this stupid feeling. He just wants it gone.

Frank has a picture of the two of them in his wallet for god’s sake. Frank keeps that with him. Wherever he goes, Gerard is literally always with him. That’s not even comprehensible. That’s just not right. Enemies don’t miss the days when they were friends. Gerard’s pretty sure he never read anything about Voldemort wanting to make friendship bracelets with Harry Potter. These things don’t happen. You don’t just have a crush on your nemesis. This isn’t right.

Except Gerard can’t help but deny that it’s what he’s feeling, and it won’t go away.

Gerard’s hand won’t move. It won’t lift itself up and it won’t knock on Frank’s door. There’s something stopping him, every time he thinks he’s about to, he can’t actually make his fist meet the wood. It’s like someone’s tied a bungee cord to his elbow and every time Gerard is about to knock, he’s pulled back. It’s just not happening.

He can’t will the knocking to happen. His whole body is protesting. His brain is protesting pretty well too except for this annoying little voice in the back of his head telling him that he should do it. Telling him he wants to, that he should just stop being a chicken. Just knock. That’s all he has to do.

Gerard’s arm feels like it’s possessed when he loses the strength to stop himself, and all of a sudden he’s looking at his hand rattling against the front door to Frank’s apartment. He’s so angry with himself for doing this.

Then there’s footsteps. Gerard knows that this is his last chance to run. He could just run back down the hall and down the steps and forget any of this happened. Forget he came here, forget about all the stuff on his phone that he really wishes he didn’t feel so attached to. He wishes he could just be plucked up from the earth and dropped into some parallel dimension where he has absolutely no feelings about Frank whatsoever.

There’s rattling at the door, scratching almost, and Gerard looks at the small little peep hole, knowing Frank is probably on the other side wandering why he’s here. That’s definitely what’s running through his mind right now. He’s wondering why Gerard is back after running out not long ago. He’s thinking that he hates Gerard more than he had twenty four hours ago. Gerard’s just feeling antsy and waiting for Frank to hit him with something.

Maybe he won’t even answer. Maybe he’ll just walk away and leave Gerard there without a response. Or maybe he’ll shout at Gerard to go away. He could’ve already found Gerard’s phone and just hand it to him then slam the door shut. Or maybe he’s destroyed it to spite Gerard. Maybe he’ll do that when Gerard tells him that he lost his phone in there. There’s so many different things he might say or do, Gerard can’t process them all.

What he doesn’t expect is for Frank to open the door and look at him like that.

He’s looking at Gerard in a way that can only really be described as thankfully. Gerard feels a lead lining in his lungs, and every other body part he has, making him feel weighted to the ground. Even his tongue is weighted to the bottom of his mouth just by that look in Frank’s eyes.

“I was hoping you might come back,” Frank says.

“Phone,” Gerard says, the word slipping out before he can put other words around it. He sounds stupid, his voice higher than usual. He’s successfully acting like a complete fool.

“What?”

“I left my phone. I left my phone here, somewhere. I just came back to get it,” Gerard says.

“Oh,” Frank says, nodding, his face falling a bit. Gerard pretends it has nothing at all to do with him, and Frank instead happened to start thinking about something sad. The beginning of Up, or maybe Edward Scissorhands. Something like that. He’s not sad because Gerard just made a statement that completely blew him off. That’s not it at all.

“Can I look for it?” Gerard asks when he’s still standing in the hall, and Frank is still looking at him without moving.

“Oh, yeah. Sure,” Frank says, stepping back and letting Gerard go in before him. Gerard looks at him, wishes that he could make this less awkward, and then steps in front of Frank and into the apartment. It’s the same way that it was when Gerard left it. He’s been here way too many times in the past few days. Hell, he’s slept here the last two nights. That’s way too many times. Never would be too many times in Gerard’s book.

“Where did you, uh, last have it?” Frank asks, “Your phone I mean.”

“Here, I don’t know where though,” Gerard says. He was only ever really a few places in here. Frank doesn’t live in a mansion or anything, there’s not that many places for it to have gone. He keeps everything so clean as well, so it’s not lost in any clutter like it constantly is in Gerard’s apartment. Often he just goes without it until Mikey calls him and then he’s able to locate it more easily by the sound of the ringtone.

Frank closes the door behind Gerard, and he’s almost startled by the sound in the eerily quiet apartment. The TV is on, but the sound has been muted, so that’s probably what Frank was doing when Gerard knocked.

Gerard goes first to the kitchen counter, feeling Frank’s eyes on him, but he refuses to turn around and acknowledge the stare. There’s nothing there when Gerard looks around the counters so he walks over to the couch, and he can’t avoid it this time. He meets Frank’s eyes, and they hold contact for a moment before Frank breaks it. He looks in the direction that Gerard is walking, over by the couch that Gerard and Mikey have both slept on.

Frank walks a little closer to the couch too, acting like he’s looking, and Gerard can’t tell if he actually is trying to help or if he’s just acting like it. Gerard’s not sure which would surprise him more.

Frank seems to change his mind not long after, because he instead backs up to lean against the bare wall adjacent to the TV. He puts his hands behind his back and eyes Gerard as he searches.

Gerard spots the phone, half-wedged under the couch, and half out in the open. He bends down to pick it up, seeing Frank watch him as he does so, and Gerard looks at the ground so that he doesn’t have to look at Frank.

“Found it,” Gerard says, straightening himself up again and holding the phone up in his hand to display it to Frank. Frank looks at it like he’s in some sort of trance, and they hold a really weird and stale silence for way too long before Gerard stows the phone into his pocket. This forces Frank to look elsewhere, and his eyes eventually land on Gerard again.

“I should head out,” Gerard says.

“Uh, before you go,” Frank says, catching Gerard mid step as he makes the move to stride over to the door.

“Yeah?”

“Well, I just wanted to talk to you for a second.”

“About?” Gerard asks.

“About that, well, uh, kiss.”

“Oh. I, uh, we can forget about it if that’s what you want. It was weird, and we don’t have to acknowledge that it ever happened.

“That’s not really what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What? But you said you wanted to talk about the kiss,” Gerard says.

Frank nods, “Yes, I did say that, and I do mean it, but a different part of it is what I want to talk about.”

“Wh-what part?”

“Well the, like, the afterward bit,” Frank replies, turning pinkish.

“Oh, yeah, we could forget about that too if you want.”

“Well, see, the thing is that,” Frank stops, and takes a deep breath, seemingly getting more confidence as he starts up again. “The thing is, it wasn’t even that good a kiss. Like, really, we just don’t really fit together in any way, you know. You and I, we don’t make any sense. I just wanted to tell you, was that, like, what happened afterward, that was just a coincidence really. Like, it wasn’t because of you. That, it just, like, happened. It happens sometimes.”

“Yeah, to teenagers,” Gerard says, not even really sure what he’s hearing. Is Frank actually trying to tell him that it was a coincidence that he popped a boner right as Gerard kissed him? That’s not an accident. That’s an immediate cause to effect, and every science teacher that Gerard ever despised would back him up on this. Also, the number of times Frank just said ‘like’ totally shows the transparency of his story.

“Well, you know, I just want you to know that it wasn’t you.”

“You’re lying,” Gerard says assuredly.

“I am not. It was totally just a weird happenstance. I promise,” Frank replies.

“No. I don’t believe you,” Gerard says stepping forward, closer to Frank. They weren’t all that far from each other to begin with so now there’s only a foot left.

“But I’m telling you the truth. I mean this. I’m-”

“Okay, save it.”

“You’re so annoying,” Frank rolls his eyes, and all of a sudden, Gerard’s feeling better. Frank’s being a jerk, and a twat, and denying something they both know to be the truth. It makes him easier to hate. Makes Gerard feel a lot less like someone’s wrapping a noose around his neck to choke him.

“And you’re such a liar,” Gerard says.

“I’m not a liar! It really was completely coincidental.”

“Yeah right. So you’re telling me that this,” Gerard steps forward and completely erases the space between them, pushing Frank against the wall. That’s really all the buildup there is before Gerard’s making out with Frank. Like full on make out. Not the PG stuff. Gerard’s not sure what makes him do it, he’s not sure who’s at the steering wheel behind his motor control, because this is not him. He doesn’t just push guys against walls and then kiss them angrily. That’s not who he is.

When Gerard pulls away, not that long after, it’s to finish the sentence that he doesn’t even remember starting. “That wasn’t what caused your boner?”

“Absolutely not,” Frank says, and then he’s grabbing the back of Gerard’s head, and he’s actually pulling Gerard back. He’s not punching him in the face or kneeing him in the balls. He’s literally pulling Gerard back to a point that they’re kissing again.

And Gerard’s not stopping it. He’s not kind of stopping it. He’s not sort of stopping it. He’s not even a little bit stopping it. He’s absolutely going for it. Once more with feeling is an understatement, because Frank’s hands are in his hair, and Gerard’s hands are against his chest, pressing Frank to the wall so that he can’t escape. He could if he wanted to but, he doesn’t seem to want to.

“Not a very good kiss at all,” Frank mumbles. Gerard shuts him up, because he can’t stop this kiss. Like he could, but he can’t. He just wants to keep kissing Frank. He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t care why. He doesn’t understand how this is happening, but he’s got enough common sense to figure that it is happening. And it’s perfect.

Gerard has that voice in the back of his head again, giving him the same message except louder this time. It’s telling him that he really wants this, and it’s so shrill and convincing that Gerard listens to it. Some other part of him is saying to stop this. It’s too weird. He’s kissing Frank. This is wrong. That voice is being beaten by the other one though. It’s so easy to listen to the first voice, the one telling him to stick his tongue down Frank’s throat, that the other voice might as well not even be there at all.

“What’re we doing,” Someone says, and it takes Gerard a moment to realize that it had been him. That was his voice, the real one attached to his vocal chords that had said that. He’s so freaked out by how many times he’s said and done things he doesn’t remember deciding to do.

“Proving a point.”

“What point?” Gerard asks.

“That you and I, we’d be really shitty together,” Frank says, and then his mouth is at Gerard’s throat and the only word in Gerard’s mind is ‘god’ except really long and stringed out.

“Yeah,” Gerard nods, voice meek, “we’d be awful. Really awful.”

“’Cause you’re a horrible kisser,” Frank says, “and you’re probably really awful in bed.”

“You probably are too,” Gerard says. He’s not sure what’s happening, or what they’re saying, and everything seems like he just stepped into the lusty dream of a closeted fifteen year old boy, but he’s okay with it. He’s totally okay with the fact that Frank’s probably going to bruise his neck if he keeps that up. He’s okay with the fact that he’s going to have to invest in wearing a scarf for the next week. He’s okay with the fact that Mikey is going to give him endless shit for what is happening right now. He’s okay with it all, because he really likes it.

Maybe it’s just been too long since Gerard got laid and that’s why he’s totally willing to let Frank fucking Iero suck on his neck. That’s probably not it. He knows what the most probable reason for why he’s into this is, but that doesn’t mean he has to admit to it.

“God, we could never be together though. You’re just so not my type,” Frank says. Gerard feels like he’s the one being pressed to the wall, but he’s not, and he doesn’t know why he can’t will his feet to move away. This is so weird. He’s not even the one controlling himself anymore. Some alien has landed inside his head and it’s in charge of everything he’s saying or doing. And Gerard isn’t protesting to what that alien is making him do, which is strange.

“Yeah,” Gerard agrees, and then Frank is grabbing him by the back of the neck and kissing him again. Kissing him like he’s run out of air and Gerard swallowed an oxygen tank. Kissing him like if they stop, Frank will fall off of the earth. Gravity will just let go of him and he’ll fall into space.

It’s an intense kiss. One with Frank’s hands at the back of his neck, prying him closer, and with Gerard’s hands on Frank’s sides, because he can’t think of a better place to put them. He’s already got Frank against a wall, there’s not much he can do to keep him there more than that already does.

And then Gerard’s eyes spring open, he wasn’t aware he’d even closed them, but they open as soon as one of Frank’s hands starts to drift. First it’s moving from behind his neck to his shoulder, and then it just keeps going. Across his chest, down his side, to his hip, along his hip and then the ultimate destination is to a place that makes Gerard make a squeaking sound.

“Oh so who’s got a boner now?” Frank teases, and Gerard can practically hear the smirk.

But Gerard decides that two can play at that game. So he removes one of his hands from Frank’s side, and then feels Frank grab his hand before he can even do anything with it.

“Not yet.”

“Whaaaa,” Gerard starts but it gets stuck in his throat when Frank’s pulling on his arm, practically dragging him across the floor. And maybe Gerard’s mind keeps flashing him in and out of conscious thought. One second he’s being pulled through the living room, the next second, he’s in Frank’s bedroom.

He hadn’t gotten to see it before, but it’s very... well, Frank. Quite tidy for a bedroom, probably because Frank is the neat freak of all neat freaks. It also looks like a high schoolers’ room though because no self-respecting adult has a Black Flag poster above his bed, but then again, Gerard can’t help but think how Frank that is. It’s just so like him. This couldn’t be anyone else’s room.

Gerard doesn’t have time to dwell on that though, because Frank’s backing up, with Gerard’s belt loops around his thumbs. It’s an awkward way to control someone in any other circumstance, but here it’s just driving Gerard off the wall.

When the backs of Frank’s knees hit the mattress he makes a coordinated drop backward, toppling Gerard with him. He’s got enough sense to make sure that he doesn’t land precisely on top of Frank and knee him in the leg or something. This means that he ends up basically straddling Frank, which has only ever happened once before and it was in a dream that Gerard woke up from with his hand down his own pants.

It’s return of the alien controlling Gerard Way’s motor movements, because he’s barely in control of it when he’s undoing Frank’s zipper. That’s something he never thought he’d do. Frank’s zipper. Frank’s. The guy who once put cow shit in his locker. That Frank.

“What am I doing?” Gerard whispers, more to himself than to Frank. The jeans are unzipped and rolled down Frank’s thighs, but he can’t get them any further than that right now. Frank’s not exactly an innocent party though. Seriously? He had made fun of Gerard’s hard-on, while he’s sporting a tent in his boxers too? Frank’s a hypocrite.

“Proving a point,” Frank reminds him. Gerard’s not sure that this is really going to prove the point they’re hoping it will. He’s not sure how the fact that Frank being a fantastic kisser is going to prove that he’s bad at it. He’s not sure how any of this is in any way doing what they’re hoping. It’s completely counterintuitive. Then again, Gerard’s pretty sure it’s not actually supposed to prove those points. He’s pretty sure the point they’re proving is that they both really want to fuck each other, and they have to get it out of the way so that they can stop daydreaming about it all the time. That’s pretty much what they’re doing, he thinks.

“Right,” Gerard replies. He’s not sure what he’s responding to. His memory isn’t so good right now. There’s Frank’s hand at his pants, prying with the clasp, and there’s Gerard doing his best not to rub up against the man underneath him. There’s this small rasping coming from his throat, and this breathing in his ear that is so hot it’s almost making him lose his composure right here. He doesn’t even process the fact that Frank’s biting at his ear lobe, because all he can think about is that he can hear every intake and outtake of breath coming from Frank’s mouth.

“Oh my god,” Gerard says quietly, feeling Frank get the pants undone. His hand has been shoved into Gerard’s underwear, leaving him mumbling obscenities like it’s all he lives for.

“Shit,” Frank says, and Gerard remembers where he is after a moment. He’s barely keeping himself from lying on top of Frank, just a shaky arm away from dropping. Gerard’s brain thinks quickly and he decides to take care of these annoying pants that are getting in the way. Frank seems to figure out what he’s trying to do. Frank takes his hand that was around Gerard, and helps Gerard pull down one side of the pants while Gerard gets the other. Gerard feels kind of lost though when Frank’s hand isn’t there anymore, but he just tells himself to get things done quickly. The pants get stuck on his knee, but he lifts his leg up and then they’re finally off, which feels like a big relief.

Frank’s already started pulling his own trousers off when Gerard looks down at him, and they’re a lot easier to remove than Gerard’s had been. As soon as Frank kicks them off, he’s pulling Gerard shirt collar down to force Gerard to kiss him. Gerard gladly lets his tongue roam around Frank’s mouth like he’s searching for something, and Gerard really will give him anything. He can’t help himself from wanting every single inch of this man.

“Ah,” Frank makes a noise that Gerard’s never heard before from probably anyone. It’s a result of Gerard making the decision to put his knee between Frank’s legs. He’s so hard against Gerard’s leg, that he’s barely even able to figure out that it’s because of him that that happened. The noise that Frank makes though, gives Gerard this feeling that he wouldn’t mind buying in excess to feel again. It’s the best sound in the world.

Gerard’s eyes strain to open so that he can look at Frank, who’s really up close since their lips are still locked. Frank’s face is so soft up close. So much prettier than Gerard ever would have thought. His eyelids are so delicate, and his lashes are long against the top of his cheek. He’s fucking gorgeous. Gerard loses his breath not because of the kiss, but because of that fact that Frank is so unbelievably attractive it’s not even healthy. It’s like looking directly at the sun.

Gerard can’t honestly have overlooked how beautiful Frank was in high school. How could he have let that go unnoticed? He’s probably the most attractive person Gerard’s ever seen up close, and he didn’t notice? Frank was pretty pimply and greasy back then, because most teenage boys are, but still, he was at least good looking. He’s breathtaking now. Well, not really, because Gerard can’t even breathe looking at him.

Gerard notices Frank’s hand doing something and he doesn’t know what, so he breaks the kiss to see Frank trying to get Gerard’s shirt over his head. Gerard lifts his arms enough for it to come free, and as soon as he does, he’s helping Frank out of his.

Gerard’s half naked in Frank’s apartment. This was unexpected to say the least.

If Frank had been breathtaking a minute ago than Gerard is going into cardiac arrest now. He gets his shirt off and then a heavenly choir starts playing in Gerard’s ears because wow.

“Holy fuck,” is all Gerard can actually enunciate, because Frank shirtless is a sight to behold. There’s no doing him credit. No words that could give credit to the way he looks right now. No possible way for Gerard to ever be able to get across what it’s like seeing him. All he can think is that he wants to trace his fingers over every line of ink along Frank’s torso. It’s not even possible that he feels this way.

Frank smirks, and Gerard doesn’t even care. That’s probably a first. Gerard has never ever let Frank get away with smirking without having something to say about it, but Frank is smirking right now and he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it. Frank’s shirtless. It’s a win for Gerard.

Gerard can barely even help himself from letting his fingers wonder over Frank’s chest, copying the tattoos there like he’s been hypnotized into doing so. He has been though. It’s Frank’s eyes. Those eyes, they must be crystal balls. Gerard can’t think straight right now looking squarely into Frank’s eyes. Hazel, but almost green, pupils overtaking the lighter color. Like a solar eclipse with the light bleeding out behind the dark sun.

Frank’s leaning up to him though, and catching Gerard off guard when he kisses him. For a second, it’s not rough like they’re trying to get this over with to hopefully push their feelings for each other away. It’s not a kiss like Frank needs him. It’s a kiss that Gerard used to dream about having with the love of his life when he was a kid. The kind of kiss that’s barely even a kiss, where his lips barely even met with another person’s. The kind of kiss that you give someone when you don’t particularly care about making them want you, just the kind where you really want to kiss that person.

It’s gone after a minute though, replaced by Frank turning his head away, and falling back against the bedspread below him. Gerard’s not even sure if it really happened or if he was just pretending it had in his own mind.

Gerard’s still caught up in a train of thought, not considering what’s happening when he sees Frank’s hands at the hem of his boxers. Gerard feels the back of Frank’s fingers where they graze against the skin of Gerard’s hips, and it’s too intimate. It’s much too gentle and not enough of the angry kisses they were sharing. Not enough of the animal side of Gerard wanting to tear Frank to shreds. It’s too much like that kiss.

Gerard doesn’t like it. That’s not the truth though. He likes it too much. He likes it way too much to let it go on, so Gerard gets a hand at Frank’s underwear as well, and he’s pulling the garment down Frank’s legs greedily, like he doesn’t care about making anything last. Like he wants it over with.

Gerard likes that calm river too much, and that’s why he needs to make it to the waterfalls. It’s too gentle, far too gentle, and if he lets it happen he’ll end up falling even more for Frank than he already has, and that’s why this needs to be about fucking Frank. Not about anything sweet, that just won’t do.

Frank gets the memo, almost like he’s reading Gerard’s mind, so he takes care of getting Gerard’s boxers off quickly like Gerard had done with him. He feels somewhat embarrassed about all of this because Gerard’s all of a sudden naked in front of Frank. It’s weird. Frank was never someone he thought he’d be naked with. It’s such a foreign idea, and it’s actually happening. And Frank is naked too and it’s strange.

Frank can’t be this attractive person when he was the same lanky ninth grader that Gerard knew how ever many years ago. It feels like he’s a different person. He can’t be this hot tattooed man with his cock against Gerard’s thigh when he’s known Frank for almost his entire life.

But there he is. Frank’s right there, looking up at him with dark eyes and a hand winding its way down Gerard’s body until it’s wrapped around Gerard’s dick. Then Gerard’s making this noise and he’s turning pink because he’s never made that noise before, and he just made it in front of Frank.

Frank doesn’t say anything about it though, he just starts to kiss Gerard’s neck, while Gerard has started trying to figure out what to do with himself. He wants to do so many things, and that indecision is making him just stay there like a plank of wood doing nothing.

Gerard is capable of thinking long enough to figure out that he really needs to just fuck Frank already. That’s what they both want, he just really doesn’t have any other ideas of what he’s supposed to do right now.

Gerard, running on pure adrenaline, finds his voice to ask, “Where’s your stuff?”

Frank makes a face before he’s pointing to the bedside cabinet, and Gerard feels like an idiot. Frank doesn’t even keep it in a drawer anything, he’s just got the bottle sitting right there in front of his eyes like a trophy or something. Gerard reaches his hand over, grabbing the little bottle as well as the string of condoms which are drooping over the side, threatening to fall to the floor.

Frank takes both of his hands and puts them on either of Gerard’s shoulders. Gerard looks down at him when he repositions himself, placing the supplies on the duvet beside them. He looks down at Frank who’s looking up at him, with eyes that all of a sudden look big, round, and pleading. He looks so hungry for it. Gerard can’t think of any other way to put it.

And Gerard just sort of has to think for a moment, has to remember to keep his feet underneath him, figuratively, and he bends down to kiss Frank. This time it’s him who’s making it all soft and counterproductive, but he can’t help it. Frank’s got such a soft set of lips and Gerard just wants to savor this for a few seconds. He wants to have a real kiss with Frank, just one more time.

That is until Frank’s uncapping the bottle and shoving it into Gerard’s hand desperately. He takes it from Frank, pulling his lips away and squeezing out a generous amount of the lube. Gerard, supporting himself on his elbow, feels Frank adjusting underneath him, feels Frank’s thighs doing their best to rap around Gerard’s hips.

Gerard gets lightheaded for a moment before he’s letting a hand get in between Frank’s legs. He allows his finger to circle slightly around Frank’s hole for a moment before gently allowing a finger to push in. Frank’s throwing his head back the slightest bit, and Gerard’s making sure to keep himself from falling on top of Frank with his one hand against the mattress, while the other hand adds a second finger and makes a scissor-like motion to stretch Frank out. Frank makes an uncomfortable sound at the third, and last, finger which Gerard notes. He tells himself to pay attention to that so that he can make sure Frank is properly prepared before he’ll allow them to go any further. Frank’s pressing back on the fingers though, urging Gerard deeper, and that’s when he decides that Frank’s probably good to go.

Gerard takes his fingers out, wiping them off on the bedspread, and then grabs the string of condoms, tearing one off. Frank doesn’t watch. He keeps his eyes closed, with one hand gripping tightly around Gerard’s shoulder, and the other on his hip, like he’s making sure Gerard stays in place and doesn’t go anywhere.

Gerard’s uncapping the lube again with a small click and applies a little more to himself before he does anything else.

“Come on,” Frank whispers quietly, his eyes opening just barely to look at him.

“Yeah,” Gerard nods, and he can’t manage to find a way that doesn’t feel awkward for him to line himself up with Frank’s entrance. Really, it’s awkward, and there’s no way for it not to be. This is Frank. Of course it’s weird. That doesn’t mean either of them are in the mood to stop it from happening, but it’s still weird.

But all of a sudden it’s not weird, it’s tense instead. That’s what it is. It’s incredibly tense, because Gerard’s carefully pushing in, and Frank’s grip on Gerard leaves his nails digging into the skin. Frank’s body doesn’t exactly allow Gerard in without some restraint, but he does get the tip of his cock through, and it’s easier at that point. Not necessarily on Frank, but for Gerard he can go without as much protest.

Frank’s got his eyes closed shut like he’s trying to stop himself from remembering something. Gerard’s biting his bottom lip, trying to stop himself from thrusting, because Frank’s body feels really nice. Like, really, insanely, amazingly, fantastically nice. A way different feeling than any of the other people Gerard’s ever been with, not like that was very many, but it feels entirely different anyway. This is Frank for god’s sake. Of course it feels different, how could it not? It feels better though, and that’s what counts. So much better. Frank’s body around him feels perfect and he can scarcely even bear it.

Gerard’s hip becomes flush with Frank’s skin after a long drawn out moment, and he starts to make his way pulling out again before repeating the action. Gerard pays attention to be slow for right now, because he may hate Frank but he doesn’t actually want to hurt him. Frank’s trusting him here. He can’t just let him down like that.

Frank’s hand on his shoulder takes a different place, tangling itself in Gerard’s hair, and Gerard honestly prefers it there for some reason. He likes the way it feels. The way that Frank’s absentmindedly playing with the locks at the back of his head.

Frank’s sort of just lying there making small noises for a few minutes before he comes out with this long moan that pierces Gerard’s core. That response is not too hard for Gerard decipher, and especially not after Frank mutters the word, “there.”

So Gerard finds a little bit more confidence, because Frank’s making these noises that are fucking insane. It’s like you can here sex dripping from his voice. It’s unbelievable, and hot, but mostly unbelievably hot.

“Oh,” Frank says when Gerard finds the spot again, and he has an easier time of getting it again the next time, which meets with an assortment of sounds, cuss words, and once a semblance of what might’ve been Gerard’s name.

Frank’s so warm pressed against him. He’s kind of sweaty, and there’s a glisten to his forehead from it, but he’s so perfect. Perfect like some sort of angel. Gerard can’t help but look at him and he just really wants to kiss the fuck out of him. Wants to be with him more than just to get off. Wants to really hold Frank.

For a moment Gerard feels sad, and he feels like he’s wronged Frank, because he’s literally fucking a guy with the only purpose being to get it out of his system, and that feels wrong. The point is that Frank is making Gerard fall in love with him, and it feels awful to not have him. To not have him.

But that flash of thought is swept away quickly, because Gerard feels really good. He likes the way Frank feels, and he loves the way Frank’s started to mutter the word “faster” over and over again. He likes the way that Frank’s hand is wound into his hair, and the way that he can feel his firm grip all the way into his bones.

“Fuck,” Gerard mewls, because Frank’s started to lift his hips up to meet Gerard and it’s insane how good it feels. So maybe it’s been too long since Gerard last had sex, and maybe that’s why it feels particularly amazing right now, or maybe he’s not delusional and Frank really is that good. Gerard just can’t help but to think that Frank’s probably the best sex he’s ever had, and while that’s not the biggest award anyone could get, the fact that it’s Frank receiving it says a lot.

The noise their bodies make is pretty self-describing, and it’s a sound that Gerard does his best to block out, because it’s getting in the way of the sound Frank’s making. He’s panting pretty heavily, and Gerard’s head falls against Frank’s forehead to stop himself for having to hold it up any longer. He can tell though, with the sound that Frank’s making that either Gerard is hitting his prostate pretty regularly or Frank doesn’t even fucking care anymore.

The hand that Frank has had consistently placed on his hip moves all of a sudden, which leaves the skin where it had been feeling cold, and Gerard makes a discontented sound. When he looks down, though, his mouth just about dries up because Frank’s wrapped his hand around his cock, and he’s jerking himself off to the same pace that Gerard fucks into him.

“Oh god,” Gerard groans, because that shouldn’t be so hot, but it is. Gerard’s tempted to slap Frank’s hand away, but his rhythm is erratic at best right now, and he’s really bad at multitasking.

“Ger...” Frank starts saying his name before he cuts himself off. “I’m gonna, I’m, oh fuck.”

Frank doesn’t need to finish his sentence. Gerard knows. He understands. He’s so close too, and it’s almost so good it hurts.

Gerard’s pounding into Frank pretty hard, and he would be totally terrified that he was hurting Frank if Frank weren’t demanding that he go faster every few seconds. Frank can’t get enough, and neither can Gerard. He’s never known anything so euphoric as the way that Frank’s unable to keep his eyes open. He’s never seen anything as gorgeous as his whispering of swear words, or that raw moaning coming from the back of his throat. He’s never known any situation to make Gerard feel more alive than this one right here.

He’s so lost with the way that it feels that he completely forgets for the longest moment that Frank isn’t his boyfriend. He forgets that Frank would never admit to liking him the way Gerard likes him. It’s blissful to let that slip out of his head. The most amazing sensation to be with Frank so completely and pretend that it’s not just physical. This could’ve been their life if things had gone the right way. Maybe this would’ve been every night for them. Every night of Gerard getting to really love Frank and show it to him the only way he knew how. This could have been what they’d gotten to have.

This isn’t their life though, this is just a vacation from the normal routines they usually live through. Gerard’s forgotten that though, and it makes him so happy to get to be with Frank. The kind of happy that no one would ever dream of shattering.

“Fuck,” Frank repeats over and over in Gerard’s ear and he makes an almost growling noise at him. He can’t stop himself.

Ultimately, Gerard caves in first. The sound of Frank’s voice is what pushes him past the point where he can hold on any longer, and he feels his head fall against Frank’s before he’s cumming way harder than he can ever remember.

“Oh,” Frank says quietly and Gerard’s not really aware of anything happening, or what Frank means, because he’s got this buzzing sound in his ears and his face has gone extremely warm. He’s aware of something warm against his stomach and it’s not too hard to figure out what it is. He feels Frank’s grip in his hair loosen, and that’s how Gerard knows with certainty that Frank’s orgasm came not seconds after Gerard’s. His body’s sort of gone all flimsy, and he’s practically fallen off of Frank, to the side of him so that he’s half on the bed and half on Frank.

Gerard’s also aware of his own goose bumps, all over his body, making the skin feel prickly and cold when he blinks his eyes wide enough to remember what’s going on.

Gerard pulls himself off of Frank carefully, finally becoming aware of the grossness of sweat and cum on him.

He looks over at Frank who’s kind of gasping and blinking a lot like he’s trying to get his breath back, and Gerard loves the way he looks. Loves the way that Frank’s so gorgeous without even having to try. He loves the way he looks completely undone.

Then reality catches up. Gerard looks around and sees Frank’s room. He sees Frank’s bedspread and he sees Frank. He also has the realization that Frank’s not anything to him. They’re not friends. They’re not really enemies at this point either, because what they just did is not something enemies do. They’re not dating either, that’s definitely not it. They’re not really acquaintances because acquaintances don’t know every little thing about each other, but Gerard knows, or at least he feels like he knows everything there is to know about Frank.

Nothing. That’s basically what Frank and Gerard are to each other. They’re nothing. They don’t have a word. There is no word in the English language for ‘childhood friends who were going to marry each other and then one day one of them played a mean prank making the two of them enemies for about fifteen years until they never thought they’d see each other again, then one day, twelve years later, they meet again and immediately hate each other, but over the course of a week they start to realize that they might’ve been in love or at least in like with each other for twenty five years.’ That’s not a word, unsurprisingly.

Gerard just sort of pulls himself away from Frank a little bit and then grabs the covers of the duvet to cover himself up. He’s once again aware of the fact that he’s naked in Frank’s apartment, with Frank right there, also naked. That’s become painfully blinding now that he’s thought about it.

Gerard looks over at Frank again who’s looking at the ceiling rather sleepily. He’s not making any motions to talk to Gerard or do anything at all, so Gerard doesn’t really know what to do.

Gerard sits himself up a little bit, still looking at Frank, and he starts to turn around to pull his legs off of the bed when Frank’s hand reaches out and grabs Gerard by the forearm. Gerard turns around, startled by the sudden movement, and he looks at Frank who’s looking back at him. His eyes have gone back to normal. They’re bright and caramel colored the way they had been before.

“Please, just,” Frank starts, but it takes him a long moment to finish, and Gerard doesn’t really need him to. “Stay.”

Gerard doesn’t really want to go, he just doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. There’s no proper thing to do in this situation. No handbook for him to read.

Frank’s eyes are burning scorch marks into Gerard when he settles back under the blankets, deciding not to move. He can just stay, if only for a little while. They can just stay and play pretend. That’s all they’ve got to do. Pretend they don’t have the history that they do, and pretend that maybe they could’ve worked out like this if they hadn’t let things all go to hell.

“I-I, uh, told you we’d be bad together,” Frank says, and Gerard smiles a little bit back at him. He can’t help but to see Frank as an idiot. A real, justifiable idiot.

A loveable idiot though.