When We're Both Thirty

Gerard looks back into his own eyes in the reflection of the mirror. He blinks back at him, looking as pale and nervous as Gerard feels. All he can do is feel his whole body shaking, and he’s not exactly sure what it’s from.

On the one hand, he’s not really nervous. Nothing is really changing, when he thinks about it analytically. His life isn’t going to be that much different. He’ll still be Gerard, Frank will still be Frank, everyone will still be who they were before today. Except, in less than an hour, everything is going to completely change.

The world will still spin the same way, Gerard will still use too many similes, Frank will still say ‘rad’ too much, and they’re still going to be that weird gay couple who have a gnome sticker on the door to their apartment because they can’t have a proper garden gnome.

It’s just that, soon, Gerard’s going to be someone’s husband. He’s going to be someone’s spouse. He’s going to have to start checking the box that says married when he fills out contact information. He won’t be calling Frank his ‘boyfriend’ or his ‘fiancé’ or his ‘arch enemy’ or ‘this twat who sleeps in my bed’ anymore. Well, he might still call Frank that last one, but he’ll also be married to that twat who sleeps in his bed.

Gerard watches himself breathing in the mirror, because that’s the only way he’s able to slow down his heart rate. He looks at the way his hair is too messy, and the way it’s too violent a color for his age, but he doesn’t care. He looks extremely askew, and that’s also how he feels. He watches himself for a few seconds, just trying to calm down when he sees Mikey in the mirror entering the room with someone else. Gerard looks for a second to see it’s Franks friend Brendon.

“You look scared,” Mikey says.

“Yeah, well, I’ve never done this before,” Gerard says.

“And if all goes to plan, you won’t be doing it again,” Mikey says.

“Don’t say that! That makes me a million times more terrified,” Gerard replies, horrified at the prospect of what his future brings. He’s looking forward to it, sure he is, he’s looking forward to pancakes on Sunday mornings with Frank, and grocery shopping with their kids, and going to see bad action movies, and being the first person Frank sees every morning, and congratulating him when he plays a good show, and all the other amazing things that Gerard always considered dull until he started dating Frank.

“Gerard, the point of life is to be terrified. If you’re not constantly terrified, you’re doing something wrong.”

“Everything you say sounds like you read it off of a fortune cookie,” Gerard groans.

“You’re annoying,” Mikey rolls his eyes, “just, calm yourself down. You’ll do fine. It’s not that big a thing when you think about it. Weddings are just a formality, and an excuse to obsess over every little thing that could and probably won’t go wrong. Whether it’s at a courthouse, or you do a big grand thing, what matters is that you’re marrying Frank.”

“There you go again, you fortune cookie spewing man.”

“Oh, shut up,” Mikey rolls his eyes.

“He’s right,” Brendon says.

“Why are you telling me to shut up? This is all your fault you know,” Gerard says, “all of it. This is your fault!”

“And I’m still very proud of myself. I should literally just be given a Nobel Prize now or something, because no one in the world could ever possibly know how convoluted you and Frank’s relationship is, but here you are, I totally got you two together. It’s all me. You should be thanking me every day of your life.”

“You know, if you told me a year ago that the guy Frank described as being ‘the antichrist with a face like a broken washing machine’ would end up marrying him, I’d have had you admitted into a mental institution,” Brendon says.

“Hate is just the most extreme version of love,” Mikey says.

“Yeah, but usually when you’re looking for someone to settle down with, you don’t pick the guy who apparently used to put cow shit in your locker.”

“Dude, you should’ve seen them in high school. Gerard talked about Frank over dinner literally every night. All I heard every day was the exact same insult about how ugly Frank was, and how dumb Frank was, or about how rude Frank was. He never gave it up! Literally every day. Every fucking day for about twelve years.”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Gerard demands.

“But the weird thing is the fact that Gerard still loved him! He hated Frank so much, but he was still gaga for the guy. I seriously remember the first time I realized he had the hots for Frank.”

“Oh, do tell,” Brendon says.

“Oh man, we were out one night and I kept teasing the two of them, because it was funny. Like, seriously hilarious. Our mom really wanted Gerard to get married so she had me set him up with fucking Frank. I mostly went along with it because it was fucking funny. Because they hated each other so damn much, it was hilarious. I mean, I knew Frank had had a crush on Gerard in high school, that was never an overly big secret even though Frank denied it, but I didn’t actually think they liked each other. And then I saw them look at each other and it was like, oh fuck, well that makes my life harder because I’ve got to get them to realize it.”

“You’re like their creator in the sims or something. Without you, they’d never have actually done anything. You’re their god. You should totally write a book.”

“I’m thinking about a movie instead,” Mikey says, “I don’t know, I think a movie would be better. I can’t write for shit, but it’s a great love story, maybe we’ll get some big executive to pick it up, and I’ll hire Joss Whedon to write the script.”

“Could totally happen,” Brendon nods.

“Right? Gerard thinks I should be played by Michael Cera.”

“That’s because you should be,” Gerard states, trying to block out the sound of their voices. He’s really trying hard not to concentrate on the fact that this is the most important day of his life. He can’t get over the fact that he’s going to get married. To Frank. He’s marrying Frank. He’s going to be married to Frank fucking Iero.

The guy who he played Go Fish with is going to be his husband. The guy who he kissed under the mistletoe is going to be married to him. The guy who everyone thought he was going to marry someday is the guy who he’s marrying. It’s not someday anymore though, it’s today. He’s going to be married to Frank today. In less than a few hours. It’s so soon, but it’s taken Gerard literally about twenty seven years to get here. He still has a hard time believing that he’s marrying his childhood best friend. His high school enemy. The guy in the band with all the tattoos and a soft spot for Doritos. The guy who forced them to stay in a hotel one night when they saw a spider in the living room. The guy who regularly says that he hates Gerard and then proceeds to make out with him. The guy who cried his eyes out when they watched Wreck it Ralph. Gerard’s going to marry him.

Gerard almost forgets the conversation at hand when he hears Mikey’s voice breaking his momentary reverie.

“I’m too good for him, maybe you could get that guy from Teen Wolf with the face,” Mikey suggests, looking happy with himself like he’s onto something that isn’t completely stupid.

“The face?”

Mikey nods, “Yeah. The one with the really nice face. I don’t know his name. It’s just a really good face.”

“You watch Teen Wolf? Actually, don’t answer that, I don’t even want to know. But here’s the most pressing question, who will play me?” Brendon asks, looking really concentrated all of a sudden.

“Kermit the Frog,” Gerard says.

“Asshole,” Brendon sighs, walking over to look out the window. Gerard watches him, he hasn’t actually looked out the window himself yet. He’s mostly just been sitting here moderately panicking, but mostly excited.

He knows what he’d see if he looked out the window. He’d see the space between Frank’s childhood house and his, the place where he never thought there would be a wedding. There is though, he’s going to marry Frank right here. Right where they spent their friendship together.

Gerard looks around the room. This is the same room that he and Frank played around in as kids. He hasn’t even been in this room for nearly ten years. Gerard’s mostly avoided this house whenever he could, he wouldn’t even stay overnight for Christmas when his mom asked. He doesn’t like his childhood bedroom. He only really likes his Star Wars sheets, because he’s a giant loser, and he likes the stacks of comics that he stores in the closet because Frank doesn’t like having more comics in the apartment than he does hairs on his head. He says things like, ‘no, Gerard, you’re using the hall closet for your comics, why do you need to use the one in our bedroom too?’ or ‘okay seriously, I know you like Batman, but you cannot put comic books in the medicine cabinet,’ or even ‘Gerard, why the fuck did I just find X-men underneath the sofa cushion?’

His bedroom still looks the way it did when he went to college. It still feels the same. If you look under his mattress you will still find his totally-not-a-diary journal that professes how much he wants to dangle Frank off the side of a building.

“How’s it look? Nothing’s on fire, right?” Gerard asks Brendon.

“Only like, a couple of people are on fire,” Brendon shrugs.

“Ugh, don’t say that! I’m stressed out enough as it is, you’re only going to scare me even more!”

“I’m joking!” Brendon says, “Jeez. It’s fine, Gerard. What a beautiful wedding.”

“Yeah? No one’s on fire then? The florist cancelled at the last minute so we had to get peonies instead of lilies, do they look okay?”

“Gerard, I don’t know a lily from an ear of corn,” Mikey says.

“I had a foreign neighbor one time, and I don’t actually remember where he was from, but he grew flowers and he used to ask people if they wanted some of his flowers, because he never had any place to put them, but his accent was really thick so one time he asked me if I wanted any peonies, but I did not hear peonies, I heard penis,” Brendon says.

“Thank you for that anecdote, Brendon,” Gerard says looking at him emphatically because he’s so irritating right now while Gerard is having a minor panic attack.

“It’s fitting though. What better to have at a gay wedding then flowers that sound phallic?” Mikey says.

“Just, go away,” Gerard rolls his eyes, putting his head down into his arms, so that he doesn’t have the annoyance of the light streaming in from the window in his eyes.

“Rude,” Mikey replies, but he doesn’t argue. Brendon says nothing, but Gerard hears the sound of his footsteps following behind Mikey. Usually Gerard would have to fight for a lot longer to get Mikey to actually listen to him, but it was surprisingly easy this time. It’s probably because Mikey realizes that today is not his day, and he really should listen to Gerard. There are some days where it gets to be about Gerard, and Mikey respects that. Every other day, however, is bend over backwards for Mikey day.

“Whoa hey, you almost hit me with a door,” Frank’s voice comes from the hall outside, and Gerard darts his head up to look at him.

“Well I didn’t know you were standing there, did I?” Mikey replies, and walks away. Gerard smiles as he sees Frank, who watches Mikey and Brendon as they walk down the hall before turning back and looking at him.

“You’re not supposed to see me before!” Gerard says.

“Uh, I think that’s the bride. I think you’re not supposed to see the bride before. And Gerard, I say this because I love you, you are gorgeous, and adorable, but you are not a bride.”

“I could be a bride if I wanted to be,” Gerard huffs when Frank walks in and closes the door behind him.

“Yes, you could, sure. And you’d be the most gorgeous bride there ever was,” Frank says, “but that’s not the case.”

“I still could be,” Gerard shrugs, slouching in his chair.

“You’re cute, but oh so stupid, and I love that about you.”

“Should you really be insulting me? I mean, really? Like, we’re going to be married in like two hours, do you really think that what I want to remember should be you calling me stupid?” Gerard asks, when Frank walks closer and sits on the edge of the bed next to his desk.

“I don’t see why not,” Frank replies.

“Nervous?”

“Yeah, a little,” Frank confesses.

“You’re not going to run away from this wedding are you?”

“You’ve just gotta bring that up, don’t you?” Frank says, but he doesn’t look all that upset. “I’m not going anywhere, Gerard.”

Gerard smiles despite himself, and stands up so that he can sit next to Frank, putting his head on Frank’s shoulder.

“Mikey’s still going on about making our life story a movie.”

“Well as long as the actor who plays me is taller than the actual me then I’m on board.”

“Frank, every actor in the world is taller than you.”

“I’m not that short,” Frank says, “I mean, I can still ride most things at amusement parks.”

“Sure you can.”

“You’re mean. I’ll show you, we’ll go to an amusement park someday, and I’ll ride every damn thing in the place, and since I proved you wrong, you will have to win me a prize. I want a giant teddy bear from you.”

“What a fantastic date idea,” Gerard says, “I’ve only seen that movie scene like thirty times.”

“Hey, Gerard, there’s a reason it’s cliché. It’s because it’s fun. I like watching movies but stopping halfway through to make out. I like candlelit dinners, even though neither of us can cook so we end up eating pizza. Hell, I liked that time we went ice skating. Cliché works for a very good reason, Gerard. Also, I am absolutely going to make out with you in the rain someday. I might get us a bowl of spaghetti too. It’ll happen, I’ll do it. I don’t care how cliché it is.”

“We’re going to have to do something about finding a beach to take a long walk on then,” Gerard says.

“This is what honeymoons are for,” Frank says.

“Aw, Frank, if you think that’s what we’re going to be doing on our honeymoon, then you’re very sadly mistaken.”

“Sometimes I feel like you only love me for my body,” Frank shakes his head, laughing.

“Not true. I like your credit card too,” Gerard looks up to get a glimpse of his face and snorts at the way he frowns. Frank looks at him, tries to pretend he’s not smiling. He’s always smiling. There’s never a moment where Gerard looks at him anymore and he’s not grinning. Gerard thinks that maybe it’s because of him that that’s the case. He doesn’t think there’s an honor higher than the one of knowing that he’s the one who makes Frank smile.

Gerard would do anything just to watch Frank grin. He’ll do anything to hear him laugh. He loves it. He loves being able to make Frank have an overwhelming emotion like that. He’s never paid any attention to how good he is at getting reactions out of people, but then there’s Frank. When Gerard jokes around, he doesn’t care who laughs, he doesn’t care how stupid he looks. With Frank though, his life is all about making sure he’s always the happiest that Gerard can conceivably make him.

“I hate you,” Frank shakes his head.

“I know,” Gerard replies, beaming.

“But I love you too,” Frank says, “shitdick.”

“And I love you, fuckhead.”