Author: Me boysxarexmessy
Summary: Gerard is a social phobic "semi-adult" who meets Frank after Frank's father dies, and as every cliche goes, they become "friends."
Word Count: 2 432
Author's notes: It's done! Oh. God, finally. :) Thank you to all who read this and dealt with my sporatic updates.
Betas: giveyouasmirk && note_to_self18
Disclaimer: FAKE FAKE FAKE
A more than awkward, tension filled moment past over Gerard's and Frankie's heads, and it really would have been harder for Gerard to bear if he hadn't realized that moments like that were what made up his and Frankie's relationship. When they first met, nothing was upfront or just there. They stayed closed off, and they were just kids. Gerard smiled softly at Frankie, not only to break the tension, but because they weren't kids anymore. And yes, everything was going to be different all over again.
Gerard leaned forward, close to Frankie's mouth, and spoke instead of kissing him. "I think... We should go get our coffee." He paused to kiss Frankie. "And then... We'll figure things out from there. How's that?" Before Frankie could answer though, Gerard kissed him again. It was slow and meaningful, and they had all day. Nothing needed to be rushed.
"Yeah," Frankie nodded. He looked down at their hands, twined over the bed, and smiled. "Stupid fucking glove. And... You kept it, and everything." They shifted off the bed. "Thank you."
"For what?" Gerard asked, and held Frankie's hand until he was off the bed as well. Frankie put his right foot down and then hugged Gerard.
"For keeping me," Frankie said. "No matter what."
Gerard smiled to himself and led Frankie back into the kitchen, where they sat down with two cups of entirely too strong coffee - "You distracted me. Not my fault," - but otherwise, empty hands. Every time Frankie took a drink, he'd make a face, but hide it from Gerard, and Gerard just pretended not to notice. And, he'd smile anyways.
Gerard bit his lip. "Frankie... Can I ask you something?" He looked at Frankie with sincere eyes, and Frankie nearly spit his coffee out.
"... It's not good coffee, Gerard, I know, but... I'm trying to choke it down..." Frankie started, but Gerard shook his head. "What? Stop shaking your head. What?" He set his mug down with not to steady hands. Gerard took a breath.
"Can, um... I just. Okay. So. Remember about a week ago, the last time I needed you on all night?" Gerard started, his hands groped his coffee mug, nearly molested it. They danced over the too hot ceramic. Frankie nodded, and scratched the side of his head, and his hair still stuck up rather satisfyingly, at least in Gerard's opinion. He smiled. "Well. You still hadn't hung up. And. Um. I heard you tuning your guitar when I woke up... It was like. It was... It was. Um. Nice." Gerard knew what he wanted to say, it just wasn't coming out. It almost felt painful.
"I'm not following, Gerard... I--"
"--No. I know. I'm.... Not doing this very well. Fuck," Gerard breathed and gazed far off into his black coffee. "I liked it. I liked that that’s what woke me up." He looked back up at Frankie with small confidence riding behind him. "Do... Well. It didn't bother me. It was scratchy and loud as hell, but. I really liked that... So. And then I didn't say so over the phone, but shit like this, it's supposed to be said to a person's face."
"Shit like what, Gerard?" Frankie sounded like he wasn't breathing evenly. He too had set his cup down, and had his hands under the table.
"Shit like. Uhh. That I want you to... Move in with me. Please?" Gerard raised his eyebrows a little to dramatize his request. He waited a beat before even moving. And Frankie didn't. "But, like. You don't... I just really liked it, and... You can't just stay here today and..." Frankie opened his mouth, and Gerard stopped talking.
"Um. Wait... What?" Frankie's shoulder's fell and he let out a breath.
Gerard scratched the side of his head, and his hair didn't stick up like Frankie's. His eyes didn't light up like Frankie's, or have meaning behind them like Frankie's. Gerard wondered a little if Frankie saw those things. But Gerard's hair was flat, and he rubbed his eyes too much for anybody to really notice those things.
"Well. I. I can't have you leave again. Plus, I mean. It feels almost pointless to come here for a day, and then just go back to Claire, and like... That's... That's bullshit, Kid, and you know it. I... I want to wake up to things that you do. I haven't. I haven't seen you in so fucking long, and I want to just be with you." Gerard scrubbed his eyes, and it was still too early to be awake. Mornings and too strong coffee hadn't been done in so long for Gerard. He continued anyway. "I remember in the basement. I remember just waking up. Just. And it was okay. Right? And everything just felt safe. Frankie. I just... And at the airport. I know it's going to always feel like that, and I want to keep it." Reluctantly as Frankie put his hands back on the table, Gerard inched his closer. He didn't know when Frankie took up painting his fingernails again, but it looked so overwhelming inviting. Gerard slipped his fingers through Frankie's and they finally looked at each other.
"Gerard," Frankie said in a voice too small, too quiet. "I... What about...?"
"Frankie, you're almost nineteen. You're an adult. Don't... Don't let her hold you down. She already held you back from going to school, because she's too fucking lazy to do things on her own. Don't... Let her do this to us," Gerard argued, but kept his voice strained, just because it wasn't on his side.
"I know," Frankie nodded. "I know. But...What about you...?"
Gerard looked at Frankie incredulously. "What about me?"
"No, I mean. Like your place. And... I don't..." Frankie trailed off as Gerard shook his head. "What?" Gerard took Frankie's hand into his own and held on tight. He pulled him across the floor, and into the living room.
Gerard took Frankie's other hand in his, and stepped close to him, their foreheads finding the place where they seemed to just fit. "Frankie," Gerard brought their hands up between their chests. "I know you think I don't have enough room and that... You don't want to intrude. I know that's what you were going to say. I know you. But. Look at this place." Neither one of them moved, because the moment felt too big. "I told you. I don't know what the hell to do with myself here. Listen to me. Just. We'll get whatever you want from Claire’s shipped here - I'll pay, if she wants, and you can stay with me. Remember? We just. Just us." Gerard felt absolutely breathless. "Right?"
Frankie's eyes were closed, and he smiled. "Yeah. I remember. I... Want to. Want it." He nodded. "Yeah. Yeah... Fuck details. Just. Kiss me now, okay?" He smiled again, as Gerard curled his fingers around Frankie's chin. "Love you," Frankie mumbled before their lips met. Gerard just smiled and took that as the 'Yes' he was looking for.
It was a little more heated than either one of them had planned. They stood there in the middle of the floor, nothing but the sound of Frankie’s whimpers filled Gerard's ears. The sound of his fingers on the studs of Frankie's belt, clicked against the fake metal. He pulled away, face hot, hair successfully stuck up in the back. He still held on to Frankie, because he was allowed without somebody telling them that it was wrong, or to go to the basement, or to just not be together. This was Gerard and Frankie's apartment and they were allowed to do as they pleased. Gerard wrinkled his nose as Frankie planted small kisses all over his face (or as high as being on his toes would take him) and made another request.
"Play me something." Gerard surrendered to Frankie, and kissed him one more time and repeated his question-like-statement. They were both a little out of breath, and shaken a little, and Frankie wouldn't let go of Gerard's clothes. Any of them. He just kept his hands somewhere on Gerard's body as he stared up at him. Gerard knew the feeling. He wanted this to be real. "Please?"
Frankie nodded, slow, his hair fell into his face. "Yeah. Only..." Frankie licked his lips. "Um. Only..."
Gerard lifted Frankie's head, and moved his hair from his eyes. "Only what?" He quickly found out just what when Frankie pulled their lower halves together, with force, and his head fell right into the crook of Gerard's shoulder and neck. Gerard was understandably caught off guard, and he let out a quick, broken breath.
"Only," Frankie breathed against Gerard's skin. "Only, I haven't seen you in forever. I... Was just asked to live with you. Thank you for that, by the way," Frankie mumbled between grinding his hips and nuzzling into Gerard's neck. "And. I... Repeated some stupid, lame-ass Fiona Apple mix I made, during the flight. So..." Gerard felt Frankie's fingers dig into his back, and they were practically kids all over again. Gerard wasn't entirely sure where his hands were, but that didn't matter, because they were moving.
"Frankie," Gerard gasped. Frankie was completely losing himself against Gerard's cotton, white sheets. His eyes were lightly closed, eyelids fluttering, and jaw shining and slack. Gerard was impressed with how much Frankie had grown up, physically. It wasn't the same as before. But it was just as good, if not better. And Gerard, though his mind was going wonderfully blank, took notice to how much Frankie's body was enjoying this.
Frankie's tattoos were all brand new to Gerard. One of his arms sleeved entirely, and that arm, that hand gripped the sheets with every moan Frankie failed to suppress. The only sound coherent to Gerard was Frankie's whines of pleasure, and even his own voice was drifting off somewhere at the sight of Frankie near writhing under him. Gerard's throat felt raw, and constricted, so he knew that he too was not being quiet. Or put together about this. Gerard decided though, that he had every right not to be. And so with every one of Frankie’s low throated moans, Gerard pushed just a little harder, and watched Frankie react to it. His dark hair contrasting greatly with the color of the sheets, his head thrown back hard against one of the pillows. Frankie finally took Gerard's hand into his own, and their eyes met. Gerard felt himself get ten degrees hotter. He bit his lip, and slowly snaked his free hand around Frankie's hard length, and so very slowly kept his rhythm. Frankie took a deep breath and rolled his hips, and took Gerard in deeper. It was a complete feeling more than anything.
"Gerard," Frankie whined. Unintelligible sounds, words with no vowels leaked from Frankie's wet mouth, and Gerard just laughed, because at least Frankie could talk. Gerard himself had taken to biting his lip so hard he could taste blood. "Oh... Shit," Frankie breathed deeply, and squeezed Gerard's hand. And if anything, that gesture was felt more. "Please... Jesus. Fuck, Gerard... Fuck," Frankie panted. His entire body was slick with sweat, and Gerard felt a bead of perspiration drip down his chest as well, and it all felt so needed. The panting and the sweating. It was long over due. And neither one of them could hold on any longer. With quick, shallow breaths, Frankie released himself into Gerard's hand, and the feeling brought Gerard over his own barrier. He collapsed on top of Frankie, and he felt his thrumming heart beating against Frankie's. Their chests both on the verge of exploding. And Gerard, though barely coherent still, loved that his heart and Frankie's were perfectly in sync.
Gerard inhaled long and deep through his nose, and held on to Frankie. He ran his thumb over Frankie's shoulder, and felt completely at peace with himself. Gerard felt Frankie curl his fingers through and around his short hair, and he smiled against Frankie's wet skin. "I love you, you know?" Gerard whispered. Frankie's hand stopped and turned into a fist around the back of Gerard's head. He nodded. "I can’t believe you're staying with me," he admitted almost to himself. "It's too perfect. Something has to happen. I know something bad is going to happen."
"Don't say that," Frankie answered lazily to Gerard's self conversation. A hint of sternness was behind it though, and Gerard kissed Frankie’s chest and finally looked at him.
"It's true though," Gerard reasoned. "When has luck ever been on our side?" He thought for a moment. "It never has been. I mean. We tried to run. The car broke down, and then was stolen. Claire didn't let me even say goodbye to you when we dropped you off. Remember? She just grabbed your hand and pushed you into the car." Gerard bit his lip. "Fucking hate her," he mumbled, and Frankie snorted a little. Gerard smiled, but continued. "And then, remember when you had that really bad storm... And all the fucking phones within a ten mile radius of your house... Like, died? I don't know how we survived that week, man," Gerard remembered back. It certainly wasn't easy. He couldn't even remember what he did. Clung to that glove. "But... I mean... How are we going to make this work? Jesus. I never think anything all the way through."
Frankie laughed a little, and Gerard was honestly freaking out a little. "Gerard... Okay. Listen to me. Listen." Frankie held Gerard's face between his hands, and this was new; Frankie telling Gerard how things were going to work, and how they would be safe. Frankie licked his lips. "Just me and you. Give that some thought for a minute." He smiled, and kissed Gerard, open mouthed and quite romantically. Gerard played in Frankie's long hair when they pulled away, and nodded.
"Just me and you?" Gerard smiled. Because that's the way it should have always been. Loose buttons, old gloves and a second hand guitar. That all mattered, but when it came down to it, if Gerard didn't have Frankie, none of it did. And Gerard hated committing things to his memory, because he gave up all the time. Things were just easier that way. With Frankie, though, even the smallest things seemed so easier to want to remember as long as possible. Gerard nuzzled into Frankie's neck, and couldn't wait to never give up again, and to have Frankie with him.
Just like it always should have been.