The Wrong Way - Part II

[kopperblaze]

Part I

It took a while, but eventually Frank got better. Spending his first few days in America on a lumpy couch, trying not to throw up from coughing and simultaneously trying not to choke because he couldn’t breathe was definitely not ideal, but at the same time it had given Frank a chance to get to know his new surroundings. To get to know Gerard, with whom he was going to spend the foreseeable future in the most awkward relationship ever.

So far Frank had learned that Gerard was an artist and when he said ‘going to work’ what he really meant was locking himself away in a spacious room he called his studio. He’d emerge from it looking frazzled, blotches of paint on his clothes and face. Sometimes he even had a paint brush sticking out of his hair. Frank had also found out that Gerard was practically a zombie before his third cup of coffee in the morning. There was no use in asking him anything or reminding him of something because he was going to forget about it.

Gerard also didn’t cook. Either he ordered food or he stared wistfully into the fridge, but Frank had never seen him prepare anything more complicated than a sandwich. To Frank, who was used to having a mother who left him Tupperware boxes with food she had cooked the night before, the general eating habits of Americans seemed rather strange.

Gerard was still tip-toeing around Frank and it was beyond annoying. He wasn’t a frightened animal, about to lash out or hide under the couch if approached too rapidly. Frank had accepted that he was going to be here for months, and he’d rather make his stay as comfortable as possible. That wasn’t going to happen with Gerard flinching every time he forgot Frank was there and was reminded by Frank coughing or moving or generally existing.

Mikey, on the other hand, was perfectly used to Frank’s presence. He dropped by Gerard’s apartment almost every day before he went to work in the evening as a club promoter. He and Frank would play video games or watch shitty TV if Frank was feeling too tired. It was nice, having someone there, even if Frank slept while Mikey stared intently at his iPhone. Mikey was fun to be around. He was kind of quiet and awkward, but made the wittiest remarks out of the blue. One time he'd made Frank laugh so hard that he'd spit the sip of tea he'd just taken back into the mug rather ungracefully. Frank hadn’t been laughing a lot since he left home. Mikey bought family packs of tissues without being asked to, and when he noticed that Frank liked lemon but hated cherry, he had bought all cough medicines and stuff with lemon flavour. Clearly Mikey was a miracle worker. Frank didn’t allow himself to think that it was a pity that he was the wrong brother.

~

Frank was so bored he was dead. Even the dead had probably more fun than him though, digging around in the mud, exchanging stories, scaring humans and playing football with heads. Frank didn’t get to do any of that. The only thing he did was sit around in Gerard’s apartment. There was a permanent imprint of his ass on the couch. His cough wasn’t completely gone, but he felt healthy otherwise and he was fucking sick of being inside all the time.

Ass imprint or not, the couch was even more uncomfortable than before and Frank really wanted to unpack his suitcase. There was no room for his stuff in the living room and he didn’t want to ask Gerard. That would’ve appeared too much like him starting to build his nest. The thing was, Frank wanted to build a nest. He didn’t want to be scared every day that he was going to find himself in the streets tomorrow.

Frank scoffed and pressed the button on the TV remote with far more force than necessary. There was nothing interesting on TV, unless you were a sixteen year old girl, planning your super sweet birthday. Frank put the remote down and flexed his fingers. He was itching to move and do something, but he didn't have his guitar, nor an idea where to go. He didn’t know a thing about New York and he didn’t want to ask Gerard to show him around. Not when Gerard was freaking out over an upcoming deadline. Judging by the way his hair was defying gravity more and more with each passing day, Frank assumed that the deadline was damn close.

Speaking of the devil, Frank heard the creak of the studio door opening, then Gerard dragging his feet over the floor. Most likely he was hypnotized by the coffee maker already. Frank sat up and looked over his shoulder, and sure enough there was Gerard, looking slightly crazy with his wayward hair and the circles under his eyes. At least he wasn’t mumbling to himself. Yet.

“How’s it going?” Frank asked, not even surprised when Gerard looked up jerkily and stared at him for a few seconds before he shrugged.

“Good, I guess. I mean, I’ve still got two pieces to finish, but I had this other idea with a girl, y’know, and the sea, but its like, orange and there’s dogs coming out of it and. . .” Gerard scratched the bridge of his nose and trailed off, lost in his own thoughts. It was kind of adorable.

Frank got up from the couch and went to the kitchen, refilling Gerard’s mug. “Here.”

“What? Oh, thanks.” Gerard smiled at Frank before he took a sip of coffee and promptly burnt his tongue. “Ouch.” Gerard pouted and sniffed, then looked into his mug as if the coffee had done it on purpose. Frank was married to the King of Dorks. Which, oh yeah right. Married. Just without all the ceremony stuff and a lot of illegal paper stuff instead.

Frank’s smile cleared off his face and he tilted his head to the side. He’d been here for a little over a week and he still felt like he was moving on extremely thin ice. Maybe things would get better if he actually did what he had come here to do?

Before he could think too much about it Frank took a step forward, effectively reducing the distance between him and Gerard to zero. Gerard choked on his coffee. Maybe it would have been better if Frank hadn’t poured him any. At this rate he was going to seriously hurt himself.

Frank took the mug from Gerard’s hand and put it down on the kitchen counter. Gerard’s eyes widened and he looked like Bambi coming face-to-face with a bulldozer. Frank ignored the nest of snakes uncoiling in his stomach and shuffled forward a little more. Gerard’s back was pressed to the kitchen counter and the only way for him to go back any further would be to hop up onto the counter and sit in the sink.

“Uh . . . Frank?” Gerard asked nervously, eyes darting to the side before they focused on a point over Frank’s head.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Frank started, licking his lips. “I mean, I’ve been here for some time now and I’m not sick anymore. And, I mean-” Now how did you formulate ‘You should get your money’s worth’ without making it sound like Frank was some kind of whore? Though when it came down to it, he was just that. "Capisci?" he added, his voice low.

Gerard swallowed audibly. Frank could see his Adam’s apple bob. The only sound in the kitchen was the rhythmic drip-drip-drop from the faucet. Frank drew in a deep breath, almost like he was about to throw himself off a bridge with only a thin rubber band wound around his ankle.

As he leaned forward he desperately tried not to think ‘wrong brother.’ What the fuck was wrong with his brain? It had gotten stuff all mixed up. Maybe still a side effect from all the meds he'd been taking.

Frank’s lips had barely touched Gerard’s when Gerard pushed him away, sending Frank stumbling backwards.

“I . . . uh . . . I’ve got work to do!” Gerard’s voice had gone up a pitch or two and he made a beeline for his studio, before Frank had even processed what had just happened. The sound of the door closing echoed through the apartment.

Frank blankly stared straight ahead for almost a minute before he shook his head and sought refugee on the couch. That hadn’t gone over well. At all.

“Fuck.” Frank raked a hand through his hair, feeling like the world’s biggest idiot. So the universe had thought this through after all and placed him with another of the world’s biggest idiots for a reason.

On screen one of the sixteen-year-olds screeched.

“Yeah, fuck you too,” Frank huffed and pressed his palms into his eyes until red spots danced in the dark.

~

When Mikey had come over the next morning, he'd dismissively looked at Frank’s open suitcase, and declared that they needed to go shopping, Frank hadn’t expected it to mean ‘spend the entire day at the mall.’ What could one possibly do there all day? At home Frank’s mother bought him stuff (mostly socks and underwear because he always forgot to buy that) or he went, bought the stuff he liked and that was it. Usually it didn’t take longer than an hour. Whatever Mikey was planning seemed more like a military operation. He even managed to talk Gerard into coming along. Which was great, because things between Gerard and Frank were even more tension filled after Frank’s fruitless attempt to kick-start their marriage.

“I’ll ask Alicia and Bob if they wanna come too.” Mikey was already rapidly tapping the screen of his phone.

“Ahm.” Frank scratched the back of neck, feeling really uncomfortable all of a sudden. “I don’t know.” It wasn’t like he was given much of a choice judging by the way Mikey ignored him. “I don’t have any money.”

Saying it out aloud hurt. Frank hated this. He fucking hated being in a foreign country and being so helpless. He’d been a lot of things in his life, but never helpless. He had had a job at home and although he hadn’t earned a fortune, it had been enough to support him and slip extra money in his mother’s purse when she wasn’t looking. Frank had been independent. Now he had to rely on others to provide for him and it was one of the worst feelings in the world.

“No, hey, don’t worry about it.” Gerard glanced over at Frank, but didn’t maintain eye-contact for more than a few seconds. “I mean, really, that’s, like, the least we can do. After . . . everything.” He shrugged and pushed a hand through his hair.

Frank pressed his lips together but nodded. It wasn't like he could say anything against that. Not when he really needed a winter coat and wasn’t about to find a huge amount of money lying around on the street. His hands had clenched into fists and Frank made a conscious effort to relax and uncurl his fingers. Eventually he’d get a job and he’d pay Gerard back. It was going to be all right. This wasn’t charity, this was just Gerard helping him out until Frank could pay him back.

Mikey’s phone vibrated and he furrowed his eyebrows as he studied whatever had shown up on the display.

“Alicia is gonna be there in twenty and Bob is going to meet us later.”

Frank sighed. Time to go to war.

~

This was ridiculous. No, honestly, it was. Who needed that many shops in ONE building? Not even to mention the amount of shops in the goddamn street. Frank just didn’t see the point. All he needed was some warm stuff, but Mikey had been dragging him and Gerard from one store to the next, making noncommittal sounds over fur jackets and neon mittens. It scared Frank.

Gerard just kind of trailed Mikey and picked stuff out at random. Every now and then he glanced in Frank’s direction as if he was afraid that Frank was going to jump him right here and force him to have dirty sex on the t-shirt table. It was fucking irritating.

Three stores in a blonde woman showed up and hugged Mikey. Her eye-make up made her look like a raccoon, Frank thought uncharitably. Not that Frank was resentful or anything. He had no right to be, his brain was just all jumbled and messed up and stupid from the jetlag and the climate change and being sick and…yeah. That’s what it was.

“Hey.” The woman went to hug Gerard as well and Frank supposed he was allowed to be resentful now? Since Gerard was his husband and all.

“And you must be Frank?”

Frank pressed his lips together tightly before he forced them into a smile. It felt like it came out more like a grimace.

“I’m Alicia, hi.” Alicia stepped forward and hugged him as well. Awesome, she was friendly enough that Frank couldn’t even hate her.

“Hi,” he mumbled, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.

Mikey was the one to break the awkward silence by pulling a red monstrosity of a jacket out of one of the shelves with a flourish.

“Hell, no! What the fuck are you doing in here anyway?” Alicia huffed, tugging on Frank’s arm. “C’mon, I know a better place.”

Alicia joining them turned out to be a saving grace. She shot down whatever weird suggestions the brothers Way had (seriously? A neon orange parka?) by pursing her lips and raising her eyebrows. Within two hours Frank had several bags full of new clothes (his protests had been shot down by means of pursed lips as well) and he didn’t even have the energy to feel guilty about it.

Especially not when his stomach was threatening to eat his insides if he didn’t give it something else to chew on. Frank was essentially surrounded by food, which was kind of the point of a food court, but Gerard and Mikey couldn’t make up their minds about what they wanted. It was slowly but surely driving Frank insane. He could feel his right eyelid starting to twitch.

“I told Bob we’d meet him at Pizza Hut,” Alicia stated.

Alicia was Frank’s new favourite. Mikey and Gerard exchanged a complicated series of eyebrow lifts, before both of them shrugged and their little group left the food court, tracking to what felt not like the other end of the mall, but the other end of town. Frank was going to start gnawing on his shopping bags.

A blond guy was already waiting in front of Pizza Hut, but other than learning that this was the mysterious Bob, Frank didn't pay him much attention.

Once they were seated and had given the waitress their orders (they called this pizza? You didn’t put chicken on pizza! It was wrong) Bob turned to stare intently at Frank. Frank raised his chin.

“So, you’re Frank?”

Why was everyone asking him that if they knew the answer anyway?

Frank nodded.

“And you two are kinda. . .” Bob gestured between Gerard and Frank. “. . .married?”

Gerard was busy burning a hole in the table with the intensity of his stare, so Frank shrugged. “Si.”

“Wow.” Bob leaned black in his chair. “How did that happen?”

“Ask the two idiots to your right,” Gerard grumbled, tearing his gaze away from the tabletop long enough to glare at Alicia and Mikey.

“So you did order him online? I thought Toro was bullshitting me.” Bob sounded far too amused. Frank wanted to kick him under the table.

“We thought it was a good idea at the time,” Alicia tried to amend. “So that Gerard wouldn’t be lonely.”

“I’m not lonely. I have a boyfriend!” Gerard threw his hands up in exasperation.

Frank, meanwhile, tried to be eaten by his chair. Why did they have to talk about this? Again and again? And why did Gerard have to bring up that, apparently fictional, boyfriend of his every time? It was as if all of them were trying to make this as uncomfortable and embarrassing for him as possible. So far they were succeeding.

“Right, whatever,” Alicia dismissed Gerard with a wave of her hand, causing him to cross his arms in front of his chest and resume his glaring match with the table.

“How did that one happen on your end?” Bob asked, looking at Frank.

“Excuse me?” Frank furrowed his eyebrows.

“I mean, like.” Bob waved his hand awkwardly. “Did you sign up somewhere to do this or were you looking to get a visa or what?”

Oh. That. Frank shifted uncomfortably and tapped his fingers against the table, not meeting anyone’s eyes. He really wanted a cigarette.

“Not really, no.” He could just leave it at that, but Frank felt like they kind of had a right to know. After putting up with him and paying for his shit and everything. Damn, his mother had instilled way too much Catholic guilt in him.

“The town I’m from, we’ve got some . . . influential families there. I was working at one of their restaurants. But I kind of pissed them off, so they made me come here.” It was a heavily censored version, but it was all Frank was willing to share at the moment.

“What, just like that?” Bob asked. He was far too curious for his own good. At least their cop friend wasn’t here to listen in on all of this.

Frank bit the inside of his cheek and shrug-nodded again.

“And you just let them do that? Just like that?”

Frank’s head snapped up at that and he narrowed his eyes at Bob. As if the fucker had any idea what it had been like. He knew jack shit about how things worked in Frank’s town. Knew jack shit about them threatening his mama, or that he'd be blacklisted for jobs in every surrounding town. Frank’s fingers curled and he barely managed to stay in his chair, the urge to lunge at the other man across the table growing with each passing second.

Just when he was about to open his mouth and give Bob a piece of his mind the waitress reappeared, her smile so cheerful that Frank wanted to beat it out of her, and set plates of food down in front of them.

Frank exhaled shakily and stared at the puddles of grease on his pizza in disgust.

“It’s a little more complicated then that,” he finally pressed out, not looking at anyone and trying to relax. He flexed his fingers and pointedly ignored the heavy silence hanging over their table. Were they all expecting him to elaborate?

For once it was Gerard who attempted to rescue the sinking ship.

“It’s not like it matters, really. I mean, Frankie is here now and stuff so.” He pulled his shoulders up and gave Frank the smallest of smiles. “And it’s not like this entire thing is legit or legal and stuff.”

Frank stared at him. And stared a little more before he cleared his throat. “It is.”

“What? Oh yeah, I mean you’ll be staying with me and all that, of course, but we’re not really married.” Gerard laughed nervously before he took a bite of his slice of pizza.

“Yes we are. On paper, at least. The . . . Family took care of all of that.”

Gerard choked on his pizza and coughed, his face turning an interesting shade of red. Bob slapped him on the back a few times and eventually the coughing turned into wheezing. “What?” he squawked.

Frank sighed and poked the crust of his pizza suspiciously. He wasn’t hungry anymore. Every time he thought this was getting at least marginally better something like this happened, making everything worse.

“We’re married? For real?” Gerard’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his skull.

“Si,” Frank replied tensely, swallowing hard before he took a careful bite of his pizza. It tasted as disgusting as he had suspected. Focusing on food was easier than acknowledging the looks everyone around the table shared though, so Frank chewed, swallowed, then repeated the process.

“Fuck,” Alicia groaned, which summed it up quite nicely, Frank thought. Seriously, what had Gerard expected? That Frank could just come over here and stay? That they were giving visas out to anyone who said, ‘Oh don’t worry, I totally have a place to crash!’ these days? He must have known that this was real. Or, well. Not.

“Is that even legal?” Bob asked.

Frank rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, all right, forget I asked that,” Bob grumbled.

“We’re married. For real.” Gerard sounded like he was either going to break into hysterical laughter or equally hysterical tears. Frank wasn’t sure which one he would’ve preferred. Instead of saying anything he took an angry bite of pizza, chewing with much more force than necessary. The others kept eating in uncomfortable silence. If Frank had looked up, he would have noticed that Mikey barely touched his food, his face carefully devoid of any emotion.

~

After the trip to the mall things between Gerard and Frank were even more awkward- if that was even possible. Frank still slept on the lumpy couch and his suitcase still served as a closet, although he was gradually starting to leave his stuff all over the living room. It was apparent that Gerard, although unhappy with the situation, wasn’t going to throw him out.

Frank spent most of his time watching TV and eating cereal out of the box, stubbornly not thinking about all the things he was missing in his life right now or how Mikey rarely came to visit anymore. Every so often Gerard peeked out from his studio and on rare occasions he joined Frank and they’d watch Top Chef on TV together and make uncomfortable small talk.

The situation was less than ideal, but as Frank listened to the ringback of the phone he was determined not to let it show. Gerard was working and Frank had decided to use the landline. It wasn’t like he had a mobile phone or change for a phone booth.

“Pronto?”

“Mama, hi.”

“Frankie!”

His mother sounded so joyful that Frank forced a wide smile on his face, even though she couldn’t see him.

“How are you?”

“I’m good, Mama. How are you? Is everything all right back home?” Frank worried his bottom lip between his teeth. He missed his lipring. They’d made him take it out before he left, along with his nose ring. Nobody had cared about them at the bar, but apparently his “husband” might not have liked them. Frank was pretty sure that Gerard wouldn’t have given a damn, since he barely looked at Frank anyway. By now it was too late to put the ring back in without getting his lip re-pierced.

“I’m fine, darling, don’t worry about me. Are you enjoying New York? How’s your new job?”

Frank swallowed hard. He could lie to almost anyone’s face and not so much as blink, but lying to his mother was a lot harder. Especially when he just wanted to tell her how much America sucked and how fucking stupid his supposed husband was.

The thing was, Frank couldn’t say any of that. Not when she thought that he was managing a bar for the Luciano family. That had been the deal. They would leave Frank’s mother alone, not ask for protection money, and allow her to think her son had been sent away to a respectable job, and Frank would let himself be married off to a stranger in America for a large sum.

“It’s great. Really . . . really great.” Frank twirled the cord of the phone around his fingers. “Everyone’s really friendly and New York is amazing. Things are . . . things are good.”

“I’m so glad to hear that.” The relief was obvious in her voice. Frank closed his eyes against the way his stomach twisted. “I was so worried about you. You should’ve called me earlier!”

“I’m sorry, Mama,” Frank mumbled sheepishly. He couldn't tell her that he hadn’t dared to use the phone. International calls were expensive.

"Are you taking care of yourself, dear? Are you eating enough? And I've heard that it's horribly cold over there. Dress warmly, you know you're prone to getting sick. And don't just eat that junkfood crap they have over there, it's not good for you, Frankie. Remember to buy fruits and eat vegetables. The recipes I gave you before you left are really simple. There's no excuse for you not to have proper meals."

Frank spent the better amount of five minutes assuring his mother that he was fine and not starving to death. She then proceeded to tell him about everything that was going on in the neighbourhood. Frank closed his eyes and tried to let her voice soothe him. All it did was make him even more homesick.

When he heard the studio door open, Frank’s head snapped up.

“Um, listen, Mama, I gotta go. I’ll call you when I can, but don’t worry about me. I’m fine, I promise. Take care of yourself.” Frank hastily ended the phone call and scrambled to his feet, only to dive for the couch and make it seem like he had been there all along.

He saw Gerard from the corners of his eyes, shuffling to the kitchen and then right back to the studio after refilling his cup of coffee. Once he heard the sound of the door closing Frank went limp and curled up on the couch. It was going to be another evening with just the TV for company.

~

The insistence of his mother on food had gotten Frank to think. Food was an important part of your day and meals integral to relationships. Gerard never ate proper food. Maybe that's why things between them just weren't working out.

Currently Gerard's kitchen looked like a food store had vomited over it. Frank would be damned if he and Gerard weren't going to have dinner together and talk like civilized people. Frank wasn't hoping that his cooking skills were going to woo Gerard or anything, but he was sick and tired of the awkward tension in the apartment. If penne all' arrabiata from his mama's recipe didn't help, then nothing would.

The problem was, Frank hadn't even been able to find the right ingredients. Frank had followed his mother's directions precisely and whenever he had cooked this dish at home it had turned out alright. Now it just didn't taste right.

Frank stared mournfully at the pot on the stove, head tilted to the side. The door opening distracted Frank from his staring match. Gerard had gone out earlier to buy some art supplies, which Frank knew always took a few hours. Finding the right brushes was apparently a scavenger hunt. Gerard hadn't mentioned that he would bring Mikey back to the apartment. Fair enough, Mikey was his brother, and Frank was inexplicably happy to see him. That happiness disappeared within the blink of an eye when Ray and Bob entered the apartment. Gerard hadn't mentioned with one word that anybody was going to come over tonight.

"Oh, hi Frank." Gerard grinned. Frank's fingers tightened around the spoon he was holding. Holding, not throwing. You didn't throw spoons at people. Not even if they were stupid and oblivious and brought people home when you had planned to have a cozy dinner with them.

Frank forced himself to smile.

"This smells amazing. What are you making?" Ray asked, glancing at the pots and pans in the kitchen.

"Penne all' arrabiata." Frank bit his tongue and kept himself from adding 'and you're not getting any, cop.'

"That's awesome. Is there gonna be enough for everyone? Then we can have the junk we bought for dessert." Gerard put a plastic bag down on the kitchen counter and Frank could feel his eyelid twitching. Obviously what this household needed was more junk food.

"I guess," he mumbled, thinking that he'd just have to make more penne. He hadn't planned on feeding four men tonight; the portions would be small. At least that would leave enough room for their precious junk food.

"We're having a Romero marathon. You in, right?"

Frank raised an eyebrow at Gerard before he smiled sweetly. "Sure." As if he had a choice.

Everyone piled into the living room, discussing in what sequence they should watch the movies, and Frank was left to stare mournfully at what had been supposed to be a dinner for two.

A while later Frank had figured out portions, the penne were in the pot, the kitchen cleaned up and there was no real reason for him not to join the others. Yet he remained in the kitchen, trying to improve the sauce. With the ingredients at hand it wasn't going to get better, but it was a good excuse to avoid everyone. Everyone but Mikey, apparently.

"Need help?"

Frank shook his head. "No, I'm mostly done." He stirred the sauce again, then stopped mid-movement. "Actually, come over here."

Mikey came up next to him. "Smells nice."

"Try it. I don't know if it is too spicy or not spicy enough." Frank figured that the taste buds of Americans were entirely different to his own, so he couldn't tell. He held the spoon out for Mikey, his free hand cupped underneath it in case the sauce dribbled.

Mikey looked uncomfortable for a moment before he leaned forward and licked some of the sauce from the spoon.

"Hm." Mikey licked his lips and tilted his head to the side. "It's really good, but, like, not super spicy or anything, I don't think."

Anything that wasn't "super spicy" wasn't spicy enough and Frank set about remedying it.

"So, is cooking the only reason you're hiding out in here?"

"What?" Frank glanced over at Mikey before he stirred the sauce with more force than necessary.

"Dunno. Just seems like you're, you know." Mikey shrugged.

"Well I'm not." Frank replied sharply.

"And you're always glaring at Ray," Mikey added, looking at Frank with barely concealed interest.

"I'm . . . not." Frank didn't even believe his own lie.

"How come?" Mikey leaned against the counter and crossed his arms in front of his chest, eyes following the stirring motion of the spoon.

"I'm . . . it's not . . . just." Frank huffed, clearly frustrated when the words he was looking for just wouldn't come. "He's a cop," he finally pressed out between clenched teeth.

"O-kay," Mikey drew the vowel out longer than necessary, one eyebrow arched.

"He's a cop. Cops are no good." Why did Frank have to explain absolutely everything?

"Ray's a good guy." There was a defensive edge to Mikey's voice, letting Frank know that he was moving on really thin ice.

"I'm not questioning that. But cops are no good and I'm not exactly in the best position, no?"

Before Mikey could reply Frank shoved the spoon at him again. "Try it now." Frank did a double take because holy shit, he was starting to sound like his mama. Mikey obediently tried again.

"Yeah, 's better. But, like, you know that you don't have to be scared of Ray, right?"

"I'm not scared!" Were the Way brothers on a mission to get him to throw spoons at them? Frank wasn't scared, all right? He could totally take Ray, if it came down to it.

"Fine, whatever. Concerned. You don't need to be concerned. Ray is our friend. If stuff went wrong, he'd help you out."

Frank blinked at Mikey. That's not what the police did. "Um. All right." Frank sounded sceptical, but apparently Mikey was satisfied because he nodded.

"Guess stuff at home was different for you?"

Frank shrugged.

"So, like." Mikey tugged on the sleeves of his hoodie before he shifted a little closer, voice going low. "Were you, like, really a member of the mafia?" He said it with such awe that Frank barely kept himself from laughing out loud. Another victim of the Godfather movies, it seemed.

"No."

Mikey visibly deflated at Frank's statement.

"Not properly," Frank added nonchalantly, checking on the penne. He bit his lip when he caught Mikey perking up from the corners of his eyes.

"What's that mean?"

"It's not like I am . . . was . . .am a member," Frank shrugged, starting to get out plates. "Not an important one. Was just working at one of their bars." It had been a good deal, really. Protection, medical care, all the good stuff, yet Frank wasn't involved in any dirty business. He'd just been the barman.

"Ah. So did you, like," Mikey waved his hand around and for a second it was obvious that Gerard and him were related.

"Did I what?" Frank challenged, raising his eyebrows at Mikey before he set out portions for everyone, arranging the food neatly on the plates.

"You know."

"No I don't." Frank thoroughly enjoyed this. "But maybe I'll tell you some stories one day." he winked. Mikey grinned and picked a penne from one of the plates, shoved it into his mouth and hummed. Frank's eyelid started to twitch again. Were all of them heathens? He was about to give Mikey a long speech about not touching food with your fingers and stealing from plates before they were served, when Mikey did it again. Only this time he managed to get a piece of penne with a lot of sauce on it, and some of it smeared in the corner of his mouth. Frank stopped, and he could feel his mouth hanging open as he stared. He hadn't really noticed before just how close he and Mikey were standing, and Mikey looking at him -- looking at him - - didn't help at all. Frank forced his mouth closed and swallowed hard.

Mikey licked his lips and Frank couldn't help but step closer. He knew that he shouldn't do this, but he was beyond rational thinking. He just wanted to lick the sauce away and then possibly make sure it was really gone.

"You have a bit of. . ." Frank trailed off and went up on his tiptoes.

"Hey! We've got the DVDs all set up. Is the food gonna take much longer?"

Gerard Way was a fucking elephant. An elephant stomping through Frank's life.

"It won't be a minute," Frank replied tensely, not taking his eyes off Mikey and reaching out to wipe the smudge of sauce away with his thumb. Mikey was glancing nervously in the direction of his brother.

"I'll bring out the food. Do you have drinks already?" Frank asked and turned back to the stove, not looking at either of the brothers. Throwing a spoon still seemed like such a good idea.

~

“So, um.” Gerard shifted and took another drag of his cigarette before he sat down on the couch. Frank was grateful; his pacing had been making him nervous.

“Alicia called and, I don’t know if you know, but I guess you don’t, but um . . . doesn’t matter.” Gerard flapped his hand. “She and Bob work at the zoo and she asked if we, like, wanted to stop by? You haven’t seen much of New York and the zoo is kind of really awesome, but I don’t even know if you like animals.” Gerard sounded just a tad guilty. As well he should: Frank really hadn’t seen much of New York and the farthest he had gone on his own was to the corner shop to buy cigarettes, and d'Agostino's, which was a block away from Gerard's apartment.

Frank had sat up straighter the very first time Gerard had mentioned ‘zoo.’

“Really? That . . . that would be really great.” Frank grinned. Getting out of the apartment and getting to go to the zoo? Fucking win.

“Yeah?” Gerard smiled a little unsurely, but when Frank grinned harder the last bits of doubt left his face. “Mikey said he’s gonna be here in ten or so, so we can go then.”

“Awesome.” Frank slid from the couch to the floor and looked under it to locate his sneakers. Today was going to be fucking amazing and nothing would ruin it and eventually he and Gerard would overcome their awkwardness. Hopefully.

“I’ve never been to a zoo before,” he admitted once he’d jammed his feet into his shoes and stuffed the laces in sideways, not bothering to tie them.

“What, never ever?” Gerard asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

“Nuh-uh.” Frank shook his head, looking up at Gerard from his position on the floor. “I’ve always wanted to go though. I really like animals.” For a second his smile faltered as he thought about Pepe at home, probably being spoiled rotten by his mother.

“It’s pretty cool. They’ve got lions and everything,” Gerard said, looking as if he wasn’t too sure if lions were still cool. Frank totally thought they were. They were lions.

Once his shoes were on, Frank tried not to vibrate in place, but he couldn't help glancing at the clock on the TV box every other minute. He fiddled with the fraying hem of his jeans, pulling out a thread and rolling it between his thumb and index finger. Why was Mikey always late? Frank was dying to get going.

The sound of the front door opening had Frank jumping to his feet. Motherfucking zoo time.

~

Getting from Gerard's apartment to the Bronx Zoo took forever. At one point Frank was sure that Gerard had lied to him and they were taking him to the airport or some secluded area where he was going to get murdered. Then he looked at Gerard, sitting across from him on the underground, his head resting on Mikey's shoulder and shook his head. There were not going to be any scheduled murders today involving the Ways.

When they got off the underground Frank pulled his shoulders up and huddled further into his coat. He still wasn't used to the cold and even his thick coat, scarf, mittens and hat only did so much to keep him warm.

Thankfully the walk to the zoo wasn't that long, and when Mikey and Gerard walked right past the queue at the entrance Frank sighed with relief. He was looking forward to seeing all the different animals and exploring, but he didn't think he would've been able to stand waiting around in the cold.

The three of them were left to wait in one of the small box office houses and Frank inspected the posters on the walls, taking in all the information printed on them about the animals. His lips pursed after he read about the zoo schedules.

"It's January." Frank turned around to look at Gerard and Mikey. Both looked back at him, various degrees of confusion on their faces. "I mean, it's January so the lions won't be out," Frank clarified, tapping the poster behind him.

"Oh yeah, that." Gerard nodded. "It's like, too cold out for them and stuff."

"So we won't get to see them." Frank tried really hard not to sound disappointed. There were other animals he'd get to see, it would be just as much fun.

"'course we do." Gerard looked confused again.

"Bob is the head lion-wrangler," Mikey interrupted, clearly better than his brother at understanding what Frank meant. "So we can go to the lion house or whatever they call it. It's pretty sweet."

Frank would have to change his opinion of Bob. Bob was officially the coolest person ever.

When the door opened, it was not Bob entering but Alicia, wearing a black beanie, an olive green parka with the zoo's logo on the chest, and wellies splattered with mud over her jeans.

"Hey, Bob's still busy so we're gonna meet him at the Monkey House in half an hour."

Frank tried not to squeak. That would've been rather unmanly. But, monkeys.

Before the monkeys Alicia led them to another building and Frank was too busy taking everything in around him to notice the shield reading "Reptile House" next to the door. It was stuffy inside. Frank pulled his hat and mittens off and unzipped his jacket, grateful for the warmth.

"So, this is where I work," Alicia announced as they entered a dimly lit room. There were huge glass cages on either side of the wall and Frank crouched down in front of one of them, staring in awe at the huge snake inside.

"Her name's Carmen," Gerard said, coming up behind Frank.

"She's beautiful." Frank reached out and pressed his fingertips carefully against the glass, as if afraid that he'd pull a Harry Potter and the glass would vanish, causing him to fall in. "Can I touch her?"

"Nah, not unless you want her to eat you." Alicia shook her head. "She eats kids like you for breakfast. I've got some smaller darlings you can touch though, if you want."

Frank turned to grin up at Alicia, which was apparently all the answer she needed before she pulled out a set of keys and went over to one of the other tanks. Frank got up again and positively beamed at Gerard and Mikey. How fucking cool was this?

He inspected some of the other tanks while Alicia opened one of the glass doors.

"All right, here we go. Hold out your hand. Baby's really nice, just hold still."

Frank had already raised his arm halfway when he spotted just what it was that Alicia was holding. This time he did squeak and snatched his hand back as if he'd been burnt. Frank almost fell over his own feet as he stumbled backward and then held onto Mikey's shoulders with his hands as he hid behind him. Fine, so maybe that was a somewhat embarrassing reaction but it was a fucking tarantula Alicia was holding. A fucking huge, fat, hairy spider. Frank shuddered. And she'd been about to put it in his hand. Frank couldn't help but whine in the back of his throat.

"Uh . . . Frank?" Mikey was peering back at him over his shoulder and Frank could feel his cheeks heat up. His fingers had been digging into Mikey's shoulders, but he dropped his arms and shuffled to hide behind Gerard instead. That was the right thing to do. Hide behind his husband.

"Dude." Alicia craned her neck to look at Frank. "She's not poisonous, you know that, right?" She was still holding the tarantula in one hand and was stroking its back with the index finger of her other hand. It was creepy.

"I really, really, really don't like spiders," he finally managed to get out, peering around Gerard just to make sure that Alicia and her stupid spider stayed where they were and didn't get anywhere near him. All of a sudden he really wanted to leave. God knew how many spiders were hiding inside the building.

"Why not?" Alicia asked, handing Baby over to Mikey who seemed unimpressed, as always.

"They're. . ." Frank made a sweeping gesture with his hands, hoping to get his point across.

"Yeah, I totally get you. I'm not too fond of them either," Gerard agreed. He took a step to the side and Frank did as well, determined to stay behind his human shield.

"Weird people." Alicia rolled her eyes before she cooed over the spider and took her back from Mikey. Baby had been crawling up his arm and Frank shuddered. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a step forward, so he was effectively plastered to Gerard's back. Gerard only tensed a little, even when Frank's fingers held onto the hem of his coat.

Frank heard Alicia walking across the room and then there was the sound of a glass door sliding shut and keys turning in a lock.

"It's gone now, Frankie," Gerard said, low enough so that only Frank would hear him. "It's okay, coast is all spider-clear."

Frank held on for a second longer before he forced his eyes open and his fingers to uncurl. He cautiously stepped away from behind Gerard. "Can we go somewhere else now, please?"

Alicia looked about ready to tease Frank mercilessly, but she snapped her mouth shut and nodded when Mikey reached out and wrapped his fingers around her wrist, squeezing lightly. "Yeah, sure. You're not scared of monkeys, are you?"

~

By the time Bob joined them at the Monkey House, Frank was in love and trying to bribe Gerard into taking one of the monkeys back home. There was a tiny one who kept jumping around behind the bars, doing all kinds of stupid things that caused Frank to giggle. He'd named him Alistair.

The thing was, Gerard didn't even appear completely opposed to the thought. Mikey seemed enchanted as well. It was Alicia who rolled her eyes at all of them, but Frank had decided that her opinion didn't count anyway. She had named a spider Baby and had been cooing at the stupid thing. Clearly there was something wrong with her.

"We could walk Alistair in the park," Gerard was just suggesting excitedly when Bob showed up behind them and raised an eyebrow.

"Is he trying to adopt again?"

"Yup. This time it was Frank's idea though."

Bob rolled his eyes.

The remainder of the afternoon passed quickly as Bob and Alicia showed them around the rest of the zoo. Frank wanted to adopt one of the red pandas, forgetting all about Alistair. They were the cutest things he had ever seen in his life. Eventually Bob's promises of showing them the lions convinced Frank to leave, but not without promising Mimi and Deedee to visit them soon. He would make sure to have an elaborate plan to kidnap them by then.

Frank was sad for exactly thirty-five seconds after leaving his 'babies' behind before he started bombarding Bob with questions. How many lions were there? Were they going to feed them? Could Frank touch them? Bob groused that maybe he should've looked the other way and let Frank steal the red pandas after all.

Once inside what the workers called the "winter resort", Bob had to pry Frank off the iron bars to the door of the lions' den, muttering that he was considering going straight back and getting the stupid red pandas for Frank. Frank just giggled and continued to figure out how to make his way inside. He was tiny, but not tiny enough to squeeze through the bars. Bob finally succeeded in getting him to move.

"I'm an expert at wrangling lions, not crazy Italians," Bob said gruffly, cuffing Frank on the back of his head.

"They are tiny," Frank said, his voice a little higher pitched than usual, his fingers wrapped around the bars once more. Gerard and Mikey had seen the cubs before, but both of them looked almost as enchanted as Frank.

"Yeah, they're only ten weeks old," Bob explained, coming up behind Frank to look into the den. "That's Curly sleeping over there and the other two are Larry and Mo."

"Can we go in and play with them?"

"Sure, but their moms over there are gonna play with you."

Frank pouted, but one of the lion babies falling over made him giggle again.

They spent the better part of an hour just watching the lions (and pretending to listen to Gerard talking about polygamous relationships, since the lion family with two moms was obviously a happy one) before Frank could reluctantly be moved to leave.

It was already dark by the time they said goodbye to Bob and Alicia and left the zoo. Frank nodded absently-minded at Gerard's suggestion of getting take-away and watching a movie back at their place. This had been, hands-down, the best day in New York so far. It made him miss Pepe terribly, but it was just another memory from home Frank pushed aside. Instead he told Gerard and Mikey all the stuff Bob had said about the lions (and they indulged him by pretending they hadn't heard all of it before) as he followed them into a Chinese take-away place.

When Gerard had mentioned watching a movie, Frank hadn't realised that it meant Mikey would be joining them. Not that he minded, or anything. Not at all. It was a nice end to the day, sitting in the dark living room, watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy while curled up with a blanket on the couch and eating Chinese food out of cartons (it tasted surprisingly good). Frank was focused solely on the TV and not on Mikey, sprawled out next to him. He also hadn't noticed that their knees were touching. If anything he noticed that Gerard's mouth was hanging slightly open as he watched the battle on screen. Gerard was his husband and Frank was allowed to creepily watch him in the dark. Eventually he managed to relax, his body giving in after a long day out.

The DVD menu was playing on repeat by the time Frank woke up. There was a crick in his neck and he groaned as he sat up, slowly rolling his head from left to right.

Gerard was asleep on the living room floor, curled up with an empty packet of chips clutched to his chest. Frank wished he had a camera.

Next to him on the couch Mikey was asleep as well, chin pressed to his chest. His glasses had slid forward to the tip of his nose and if he spent the rest of the night in that position he was going to wake up with more than just a crick in his neck. Frank bit his bottom lip before he sat up on his knees and carefully reached over, removing Mikey's glasses. Mikey wrinkled his nose and blinked his eyes open.

"Nrg?"

"Sorry, just thought it'd be better to sleep without them on," Frank whispered, putting Mikey's glasses on the table.

"Mh."

He guessed that Mikey agreed with him.

"You should probably move. I'm sure Gerard won't mi-" before Frank could finish suggesting that Mikey use the master bedroom, Mikey flopped sideways and squeezed himself between Frank and the back of the couch.

"'s all right," Mikey slurred, voice heavy with sleep and eyes already closed again. He tugged on the blanket until part of it covered him before he sighed softly, perfectly at peace with this arrangement and the world. Frank, on the other hand, felt like a wide-eyed bunny.

Swallowing hard, Frank tried to get comfortable without moving too much. Mikey was skinny and Frank was tiny, but the couch hadn't magically become wider, so there really wasn't a lot of room.

"Don't fall off." Mikey wrapped one arm around Frank from behind, fingers splaying over Frank's belly. For a few seconds Frank held his breath until eventually he had to exhale. It took seven more reruns of the disc menu on the screen before he managed to relax and uncurl his fingers from their death-grip on the blanket, and another four until he dared to actually lean back into Mikey. Mikey, the bastard, was already fast asleep.

Frank forced his eyes closed and told himself that there was no reason to get all wound up over this. He'd shared a couch with friends before; he could totally share a couch with his brother-in-law.

Despite Frank's orders for his body to relax, he didn't sleep well. It was more drifting in and out of consciousness and Frank was, at all times, painfully aware of Mikey's fingers curled into his t-shirt and his chest moving lightly against Frank's back. Some time during the night, Frank's breathing had synced with Mikey's and at least the even inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale kept him mostly calm. By the time it started to get light outside, Frank thought he might be able to get a few hours of proper sleep.

His plan was violently interrupted by something starting to vibrate against his ass. Frank's eyes flew open and he flailed, almost falling off the couch. Buzz buzz; there it went again and this time the vibrations were followed by Morrissey, whose whining was far too loud in the otherwise quiet room.

"Mikey," Gerard groaned from the floor.

"Mh," Mikey grumbled in reply before he pulled his hand away from Frank and got his phone out of his pocket. His knuckles pressed against Frank's ass through two layers of jeans. A second later there was silence again, except for Frank's heart hammering too fast in his chest. Talk about being woken up with a healthy dose of adrenaline.

"You still have International Playboy as ringtone?" Gerard asked, focused on entirely the wrong things, as always.

Frank tried to slide off the couch as subtly as possible while everyone was distracted; Mikey by his phone and Gerard by pulling remains of chips out of his hair. Sleeping on the floor next to the bags of food hadn't been a good idea, apparently.

Frank slunk to the bathroom and closed the door behind him with a heavy sigh. He leaned back against it and closed his eyes, waiting for his heart to calm down, to beat at a normal rate.

America was going to give him a heart attack; either with its greasy food or the Way brothers.

By the time Frank was ready to leave the bathroom, Mikey had gone to work and Gerard was attempting to clean the living room. His attempts mostly involved frowning at the crumbs on the carpet and picking at them. Frank watched him for a few minutes, amusement turning into exasperation.

"Do you have a vacuum cleaner?"

Gerard looked up from the floor and scrunched up his nose. "Yeah, I think so. Oh." His face lit up as he sat back on his haunches. "Would a steam cleaner work?"

Frank stared at Gerard in disbelief before he slowly shook his head. "No. A vacuum cleaner."

Gerard's face fell and he got to his feet. Frank had no idea why the possibility of using a steam cleaner had excited him so much, but if Frank had learned one thing over the past few weeks it was not to think too much what might be going on in Gerard's brain.

"Mikey asked if we wanted to go out this weekend. He's got VIP tickets to some club opening or something." Gerard handed Frank the vacuum cleaner.

"Um, sure, that sounds good. If you want to go, I mean."

Gerard's reply was lost when the vacuum finally came to life with a horrible squealing sound.

Part III