When We're Both Thirty

“I cannot believe you’re making me do this,” Gerard groans, as he’s pulled by the arm. He feels like a dog on a leash, except the weird thing is that he’s the one being pulled on. Mikey seems to think he can drag Gerard every which way and he won’t fight back. He should, because it’s unbelievable how much of a pushover he can be, but still, he doesn’t. He trusts Mikey but he doesn’t really trust him. He trusts Mikey not to push him off a bridge or stab him in the back, but he does not trust Mikey to listen to a word he says. ‘Mikey’ and ‘listening’ are two words that are very rarely spoken in the same sentence.

“You want to, we both know it,” Mikey replies.

“I don’t want to be here,” he says, as he’s hurried up the steps in the apartment he hasn’t been inside of in what feels like forever. He’s only ever even been here a couple of times and yet somehow, it’s familiar.

“Yeah you do,” Mikey says.

“No, I really really don’t!” Gerard says. “Do you know what day it is? Do you know?”

“I do know what day it is thank you for asking. My phone is set up to automatically tell me the dates of the most important holidays. Like I need a fucking reminder though. Of course I know when Christmas is. I know what day these things are, but my phone thinks I’m a dumbass.”

“It’s not Christmas though, it’s a different day,” Gerard says when they reach the landing at the top of the stairs.

“Yes, I know. It’s October 31st. Halloween. Frank’s birthday.”

“Exactly! And you know who lives in this building? You know what tenant here is someone I’m trying to avoid at all cost. You told me we were going to a Halloween party!”

“We are going to a Halloween party!” Mikey groans.

“You did not mention that the party was at Frank’s apartment,” Gerard hisses.

“You didn’t ask.”

“I didn’t know I was supposed to ask! How am I supposed to know to ask something if you don’t ask me to ask you?”

“Okay so first of all, I have no idea what you just said, and second of all, it’s too late to turn back.”

“No it is not! All I have to do is turn around and then there’s nothing you can do to make me come back.”

“You’re right,” Mikey halts, and turns to him, “there is no way I can stop you. So go ahead. Walk away. Walk away right now, and don’t come back here ever again. I’m not going to even try to stop you, so just go.”

“But I-” Gerard starts before realizing that Mikey is an evil genius. He knows Gerard doesn’t want to leave. He knows that with certainty. Of course Gerard wants to be here! Where else would he want to be? It’s Halloween. It’s Frank’s birthday. All he wants is to be here, and here is where he is. Mikey, the son of a bitch, is a mind reader. He knows that Gerard is not going to leave, especially not when he’s so close to Frank, and Gerard is astounded that he didn’t see this coming. He narrows his eyes at Mikey who grins back because he knows that Gerard sees right through him.

“So?”

“Alright fine,” Gerard replies, shaking his head. “I hate you.”

“You always have.”

“Ugh,” Gerard says as Mikey drags him the last bit of the hallway that he’d been lagging as slowly down as he could. Mikey was trying to pull him faster, but Gerard is stalling.

“Alright, so I need you to stand here,” Mikey says, putting his arms on either of Gerard’s shoulders and positioning him behind the wall adjacent to Frank’s room. There’s a turn in the hallway right next to Frank’s door so if you stand to the left of his door and behind that bend, you’re completely invisible from the apartment.

“Why am I standing here?” Gerard asks.

“Because,” Mikey says, and then he takes the bag he’s holding, the decorative kind that you give people for a celebration, and shoves it into Gerard’s hand. Gerard assumes that whatever is in there is what Mikey had forced him to come pick up the other day. Gerard’s still not entirely certain as to why he even needed to come with Mikey, but he assumes Mikey’s reasoning was of a sadistic nature. Mikey just really wants Gerard to ask him what’s in the bag and what his plan is. He wants to have Gerard groveling for answers, but he’s not going to get that.

“Stay there, be quiet, and take my lead, got that?” Mikey says, looking at Gerard expectantly. Gerard nods and sighs, slouching his position and leaning against the wall.

Gerard feels his heart beat pick up as Mikey knocks on the door. There’s a few minutes of silence after that, Mikey looks at him with a prideful expression, and then Gerard feels his erratic heartbeat practically stop completely when he hears the door being opened.

“Hey Mikey,” Frank’s voice says, “You’re early.”

“Yep, thought it would be best to be here first,” Mikey shrugs nonchalantly while Gerard tries to remember how breathing works. He’s pretty sure it’s supposed to be an automatic reflex, but suddenly, he can’t remember the last time he was able to inhale.

“So nice of you to dress up,” Frank replies sarcastically, and Gerard can tell he gives Mikey a onceover to see that no fuck was given to prepare a costume. Now, Gerard’s not wearing a costume either, but Mikey had insisted that it wasn’t required. Gerard was wary, and even more still at this point.

“I didn’t feel like it,” Mikey shrugs, and Gerard rolls his eyes. “But, on the plus side, I did get you a present.”

Gerard looks down at the bag in his hand, ready to hold it out for Mikey.

“Oh really? Well I guess I can forgive the lack of costume then, I like presents,” Frank says. Mikey smiles lightly, and his eyes dart over to Gerard. He holds out the bag slightly so that Mikey can take it from him. He’s still not sure why he’s here, or why he’s hiding, but he’s just got to go with it.

He’s got the bag held out in front of him when Mikey, instead of grabbing the bag from his hand, grabs Gerard’s actual hand instead and pulls him into view. Gerard almost trips as he’s tugged, and he turns to look at Frank when he balances himself.

The look on Frank’s face is not a happy one. He goes from excited glee, to extreme anger within a fraction of a second. Gerard is suddenly feeling like whatever this is, it’s not a good idea.

“I told you not to bring Gerard!” Frank says.

“Yes, you did,” Mikey says. “Your text told me I was forbidden from bringing Gerard, but you said nothing about anyone in costume.”

“All he’s got is a lame ass T-shirt,” Frank says.

“Well that’s because he’s dressed as an unemployed man,” Mikey says, “and he’s my plus one for the evening.”

“I didn’t even say you could have a plus one!” Frank cries, glaring at Gerard like he’s already planning on how he’s going to dispose of Gerard’s body.

“Yes well, he’s my gift to you,” Mikey says, and he reaches into his pocket before grabbing a bow, one of the bigger ones that you put on gifts, and he slaps it onto Gerard’s head. The top is sticky, and Gerard tries to pull it out of his hair a moment after it’s there.

“I’m not property, Mikes,” Gerard says, picking the bow off and wondering how on earth Mikey managed to stick it in his pocket without flattening the top.

“Shut up,” Mikey says, crossing his arms like he’s waiting for them to do something.

“So why are you here then? Trying to make me forgive him? I poured my heart out to Gerard, and what did he say? Nothing. He just stood there opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish! So if you’re here to get me to forgive him or something then you’re out of luck.”

“Gerard,” Mikey says bitingly, “it’s his birthday, say happy birthday.”

“What? I don’t want to.”

“I will make you if I have to,” Mikey warns.

Gerard looks at Mikey for a few seconds, feeling like he’s using his superpowers to strangle him, when he just sighs and decides it’s not worth it. Fighting Mikey isn’t worth all the money in the world, so he should just give it up now.

“Fine. Happy birthday, Frank.”

“Happy trash day, Gerard,” Frank replies and Gerard narrows his eyes at him, unable to fathom how much he wants to slap the guy in the face and then rip all of his clothes off.

“Frank, take that back. It’s Halloween, say happy Halloween or something.”

“Why?” Frank asks.

“You wanna test me?”

“Happy Halloween,” Frank says stubbornly.

“Adequate,” Mikey shrugs. “Okay, now, my guess is that asking you two to kiss each other right now isn’t going to work?”

“Absolutely not!” Gerard snaps.

“Nope, didn’t think so. Got to work my way up to that, but I can do this. I’ve planned for everything.”

“It’s not going to happen,” Frank says, his face emotionless, but his eyebrows furrowing together as he glowers at Gerard.

“Stop that,” Mikey says, flicking Frank in the temple out of nowhere, and Frank jumps like he just got flicked in the temple by a walking toothpick.

“What was that for?” Frank asks, backing up, and rubbing at the spot on his forehead.

“You were glaring, I don’t like glaring. This is your future husband, okay? You can’t look at him like you’re trying to blow up his brain with your mind! You two are already going to have a weird enough relationship, let’s not make it one full of creepy staring and a rubber room.”

“What the hell is wrong with you,” Frank shakes his head.

“My brother and his soulmate are buffoons,” Mikey explains.

Frank doesn’t say anything, he just agitates his feet and looks at the wall behind Gerard for a moment. His eyes stray slightly to meet Gerard’s and they blink at each other, refusing to make any real eye contact that isn’t broken a few seconds later. Mikey looks from one of them to the other without saying anything for at least a few minutes.

Finally, looking fed up, Mikey groans and says, “Well fucking talk to each other!”

“I don’t have anything to say to him,” Frank states.

“Neither do I.”

“Ugh, you’re so dumb. I do hope you realize that my next strategy is duct taping you two together, so unless you’re really eager to figure out how to fuck whilst being stuck back to back, then I’d recommend you go at it now.”

“I hate you so much, Mikey,” Gerard rolls his eyes.

“Well,” Mikey says, “I’m going to give you two a survey, alright? Answer honestly or I’ll cut off your nipple with a cheese grater.”

“Ow,” Frank whispers, taking a step back.

“Precisely. So, say yes, no, nod, or shake your head after each question,” Mikey says, “Firstly, is your name, in fact, Gerard Way?”

“Yes?” Gerard says, looking at Mikey confusedly.

“And you are, in fact, Frank Iero?”

Frank nods, looking bored. He leans against the frame of his door, crossing his arms.

“Alright, next question. Is it true that the two of you grew up next to each other?” Mikey asks, and they both nod, Frank rolling his eyes. “Okay, and is it also true that you were childhood best friends up until you were about six?”

“Is this going to take long, because I have things I could be-”

“So there’s your kitchen over there, I bet the cheese graters can be found in the cabinet by the sink, am I correct?” Mikey asks, and Frank looks nervous for a moment before deciding to shut up. Honestly, when it comes to Mikey, you never know just how far he’s actually willing to go for his cause. Frank may have every right to be terrified of him.

“Okay, now. Is it also true that the reason you two stopped being friends is because you thought each other had pulled mean practical jokes on each other? Right, and is it true that neither of you actually did pull said practical jokes, and were actually framed by a little demon child?”

“Well technically we don’t know that for sure,” Gerard says.

“Did I say you could speak out of turn?” Mikey asks, and Gerard shakes his head. “No, I didn’t think so. Next question, is it also true that you have both spent the last however many years under the illusion that the other hated your guts?”

Gerard nods, wondering where Mikey is going with this. He’s pretty sure that they do actually hate each other’s guts, but the fact that they also might be head over heels in love with each other keeps getting in the way of that.

Mikey nods, like he’s pleased with their answers so far, and continues, “Great, now here come the questions where I really will hurt you if you lie. Frank, these are for you, is it true that you had a picture of Gerard in your wallet?”

Frank shrugs, looking down at the floor, or rather, his shoes, and he doesn’t make any distinct gesture of yes or no. Mikey keeps looking at him critically before Frank mumbles something.

“What was that?”

“Yeah, okay? That’s true,” Frank says begrudgingly.

“Okay, and is it also true that you confessed to loving Gerard just a few weeks ago?”

Frank frowns, and Gerard can tell, even though he can barely see Frank’s face because of how his head is hung downward. He’s pretty good at reading his face though, he’s memorized it pretty well by now. Gerard panics at that realization slightly because he cannot believe that he knows Frank’s face that well, and he hates himself a little bit for it. He also feels kind of proud that he’s so good at reading him, and he tries to drown that feeling.

“Frank,” Mikey says, using a voice that Gerard has only ever heard his own mother use. Mikey’s going to start middle naming Frank soon if he doesn’t hear what he wants to, and that is never a good thing to hear from someone who holds power over you.

“Yes!” Frank says, looking irritated and uncomfortable, “yes, alright. I did.”

“Hmm, okay,” Mikey replies, and then he turns to Gerard, “And Gerard, I have to ask you some questions now. Is it true that you have a playlist on your phone right now that plays only sad songs about losing someone, featuring the horrific styling’s of James Blunt on the song ‘Goodbye, My Lover’ as well as the admittedly quite catchy, don’t even deny it, song ‘The Scientist’ by Coldplay, and, to top it all off, you called that playlist ‘Frank.’”

“Did you... did you snoop through my phone?”

“Of course,” Mikey scoffs, looking disappointed in the fact that Gerard didn’t expect that. Frank snorts at him, not even trying to pretend he doesn’t find that amusing, and Gerard turns a reddish color, similar to the color of his hair.

“Dude,” Frank says, grinning, “James Blunt?”

“I’ve had a bad couple of days, okay?”

“Yeah, but let’s be fair, how much of that can be accredited to the fact that you’ve been listening to James fucking Blunt?”

“You’re such a twat,” Gerard replies, putting his own head down.

Mikey makes a face and nods like he agrees with him, “true. That doesn’t change that you’ve been listening to dumbass love songs about Frank.”

“What point are you trying to make, Mikey?” Gerard fumes.

“Well, here’s my final and most important question, and it is for both of you,” he says, taking a breath, “don’t you think it’s really motherfucking stupid to be apart from someone you’re madly in love with just because you’re letting your dumbass pride get in the way? If you love someone, and they love you back, wouldn’t the best idea be for you to, I don’t know, fucking be together?”

“That’s a matter of interpretation,” Gerard says meekly.

“It really isn’t.”

Gerard sighs, looking over at Frank who’s grin has vanished and been replaced with the exact expression Gerard is sure that he has. He looks so confused, and broken, and scared, and nervous, and terrified, and hopeful, and so many other expressions all wrapped into one unbelievably depressed looking puppy dog face. Gerard swears that in this moment, he falls in love with Frank a million times over, and he doesn’t know why. He just feels all the hope in his body being pushed off a cliff, and somehow, it’s kind of freeing. Refreshing almost, like he’s finally breathing real air.

“Oh, one last thing,” Mikey says, “Gerard got you a birthday present, Frank.”

“I didn’t,” Gerard says, and he looks down, realizing that he had completely forgotten about the bag in his hand for a few minutes. It’s as if the weight comes back to him in an instant, like whatever is inside it disappeared and reappeared. It’s not all that heavy, can’t even be a pound, but it’s still heavier than air.

“Why is this important?” Frank asks.

“It just is,” Mikey says, and he jerks his head in Frank’s direction while looking at Gerard, indicating that he’s supposed to hand it over.

“I didn’t get it... it’s Mikey’s meddling,” Gerard clarifies, shaking his head, looking from Mikey and then at Frank, their eyes meeting, and sucking the air from Gerard’s lungs. He holds Frank’s eye for a long moment, and just when he thinks he’s about to combust, Frank drops his gaze, probably having felt the same fear of looking at him as Gerard had felt.

“Well give it to him, meathead,” Mikey says expectantly.

Gerard, curious beyond all belief as to what’s in the bag he’s holding, sighs, and reaches his hand out to Frank. Frank does his best to not touch Gerard, and takes it from his hand.

“What did you even do, Mikey,” Frank shakes his head, pulling something not very large, about the size of a piece of paper out of the bag. It’s wrapped so the mystery is still yet to be solved, but it’s pretty thin, about an inch wide, and Gerard can’t make heads or tails of what the hell it might be.

Mikey doesn’t respond, just watches intently, as Frank rips the paper on one side and pulls whatever is inside out, but all Gerard sees is the back of it. He has to look at it for a couple of seconds before he realizes that it’s the back of a picture frame.

“Oh,” Frank says, looking really surprised as he looks at the front, and Gerard can’t even stand it anymore. He just wants to know, so he pulls against the side of the frame that’s not in Frank’s hand to turn it in his direction.

Gerard’s eyes are butchered for a moment when he realizes that the words on the piece of paper in front of him are written in comic sans. Then he starts to grasp what he’s looking at.

It’s the contract. The contract. The infamous contract.

Gerard looks down and he sees his own five year old handwriting that’s honestly illegible, but he makes out a G and what he thinks is supposed to be a W, so he recognizes that it’s probably meant to be his signature. If Gerard’s handwriting was bad, Frank’s could be considered illegal in twelve countries, because there’s no way he can make any sense of that mess.

Gerard’s eyes scan it with surprise, as he evaluates every little piece of the contract that he can’t believe is in front of him right now. On the side, by their signatures, there’s a red stamp that they probably put there to make it look official. The ink is all blotchy but it looks like it’s supposed to be some sort of reindeer in a really suggestive position that they wouldn’t have noticed was suggestive when they were that young. The part that sticks out the most to Gerard is the clause at the top that says ‘If, by the time when we’re both thirty and we both remain unwed, we’ll marry each other.’

The whole thing looks extremely well preserved considering it’s about as old as Mikey, and that’s probably because they’d gotten it laminated when they were finished. The frame must be something that one of their mothers got because they thought it was cute. Gerard’s almost, for lack of a better word, star struck by this one piece of paper.

It feels unreal, the emotion Gerard has. He can’t believe this one stupid ass piece of computer paper that they signed is still intact. He can’t believe all the things it means to them either. For one thing, without it, Gerard wouldn’t be standing here right now. He would not be standing in front of Frank Iero’s apartment, twenty five years after this was typed, feeling like someone smashed his heart with a sledgehammer. He wouldn’t be in contact with Frank at all, because Frank’s mother never would have found this piece of crap in her house, so she never would’ve called Gerard’s mother, and Gerard would never have been guilt tripped by his mother into seeing Frank. If he’d never went to Frank’s apartment however, then he never would have had his feelings for the guy reawakened and they never would have slept with each other or had all these unresolved feelings. Gerard wouldn’t have ever had the epiphany that he’s madly in love with Frank, and there’s nothing he can do to change that. All because of this stupid, dumb, cheesy, unofficial, yellowing, naïve contract.

“I just want you two to realize how stupid this all is,” Mikey says seriously, breaking the cloudiness of Gerard’s thoughts. “You two love each other. You always have. Somehow, you always knew, and that’s why you never really could ever stop remembering each other. You used to be best friends. You adored each other, for god’s sake, you were going to get married! But now, you’re here. Now you’re standing here, and nothing’s going to change if you don’t let it. You’re a barely scraping by, two years sober, unemployed artist, and a guitar playing, unbelievably lonely, runaway groom, and you fucking love each other despite the fact that both of you are complete and utter imbeciles.”

Gerard lets the end of the picture frame he’s holding slip from his fingers and Frank changes his grip on it, looking unwaveringly at Gerard. Gerard looks back, ignoring the feeling he’d had a moment ago where he wasn’t capable of looking at Frank without feeling nervous. It’s too much, and he knows it is, looking straight at Frank is way too much, but he can’t look anywhere else.

He loves that man so much that it’s not even quantifiable. It’s not even within the realm of comprehensible. Gerard loves Frank enough to fill a thousand pages.

“This is so stupid,” Frank declares finally.

“So stupid,” Gerard agrees.

“You’re stupid,” Frank adds, still looking at him.

“So are you,” Gerard responds again.

“Glad we could agree on something,” Frank says, and that’s it. That’s all there is. That’s all he says.

Frank doesn’t look anywhere else but into Gerard’s eyes when he shoves the picture frame into Mikey’s hands, and then that’s all there really is. Gerard’s brain is too muddled to even begin phrasing it, because there’s no prelude. There’s no hesitancy, and there’s not a single second where either of them thinks ‘maybe I should think through all the possibilities before I do anything.’ That moment does not exist, because all that Frank has to do is free his hand, before he’s swinging his arms around the back of Gerard’s neck and they’re lips meet for what feels like the first time.

Gerard thinks he’s supposed to be caught off guard, but he also feels like somewhere inside of him, he and Frank are perfectly in sync. He knows precisely what Frank’s thought process is before he even so much as moves, and that’s how he knows to put his hands on his sides the minute Frank gets in his space.

Gerard takes every single kiss he’s ever had with anyone way too seriously. He always over analyzes things and tries to come up with the right word to describe it, every time. Always, without fail, he’s trying to come up with what it feels like, how it makes him feel, and sometimes he tries being critical, but not now. This is just this. That’s all it is.

Saying that makes it sound like it’s unexciting, but that would be the worst possible word you could use to describe what it is. It’s anything but unexciting. It’s the most emotions Gerard has ever had all at once and that’s what makes it so indescribable. Every single cell in Gerard’s entire body is screaming, and probably celebrating, lighting fireworks and dancing, but he can’t focus on it, because there’s something. There’s something and he doesn’t know what it is.

It’s unspoken, this something, and it’s there, definitively, he knows that for certain. And it’s not something that belongs to him, or that he has any power over controlling. It’s like a thought, but it’s not a thought. It’s more of an understanding, and he knows that it’s an understanding that is perfectly clear in Frank’s head too. He can’t read minds, he knows he can’t, but Gerard knows right now that he is thinking the exact same thing as Frank. Whatever this something is, it’s telling him that he can’t go back. This something is making it explicitly clear that this is his commitment, his signature in a way, that he’s here. It’s kind of like another contract, except it’s not really even there, because there’s no official, or in their case, unofficial document, but that’s kind of what makes it so official. It’s the fact that there’s nothing actually there which makes it so binding.

Gerard knows, and he knows as well as he knows his own name, that this is going to be for real. This is really him, and this is really Frank, and it’s not two misguided dudes hooking up to try to relieve their feelings for each other. It’s a true, honest to god, promise that he is going to really get to finally understand what it’s like to be with Frank.

Gerard is so full of the most emotions he’s ever had. So full of different feelings. And each and every single emotion is one of joy.

“I did it!” Mikey starts screaming way too loudly, “I fucking did it! Holy fuck! Oh they’re going to put my name in record books, this is the biggest achievement of mankind!”

Gerard groans, and even though his body is screaming at him not to, he turns his head to look at Mikey, which forces him to break this kiss that he would really do anything to just hold for the rest of his life.

“You’re related to that mess,” Frank reminds him as Mikey starts jumping around like a small child being told that he’s getting a new PlayStation for Christmas.

“What a dumbass,” Gerard says.

“It’s genetic,” Frank replies, and Gerard looks back at him to make an annoyed face at his words, because it’s still so ingrained in him. That’s never going to change.

“I hate you so much,” Gerard states.

“I hate you more,” Frank spits back. He looks at Gerard, over-analyzing him, and his eyes flicker down to look at Gerard’s mouth before he makes a weak sound. “Fuck. I love you.”

“I love you more,” Gerard counteracts.

“Well,” Frank starts, looking almost blank of an expression for a moment, “it only took us twenty five years.”

“Guess that just means we’ve got a lot of wasted time to make up for,” Gerard says.

“Oh hell yeah.”