When you almost gave up everything
Title: when you almost gave up everything
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
Author: mcrnut
P.O.V: Third, Gerard centered
Disclaimer: Not real, never happened
Summary:
"I really like you." Frank said, rolling over and
touching the side of Gerard's face carefully.
A/N: Drabble for you guys. Also, the next part for
"20 stories" will be up very soon.
Before Gerard had any idea of it, he knew what the drawer under the stove was for.
Gradually, without noticing it, he didn't play his records anymore. Not even when he was alone. And the parties he held were of the kind that didn't leave marks on his coffee table. Only empty wine glasses and dark cigarette butts squashed against his marble ashtray.
Suddenly, plates and cutlery were twelve and twelve, and all his friends were two and two.
He knew names of soccer players, imported beer and expensive cars because he was good at listening.
To everybody but himself.
And he knew that time was passing because he had a set of curtains for every season.
But he couldn't remember the last time he walked barefoot in the grass, feeling the light tickle of summer between his toes. He forgot to dream when he was not asleep.
He felt like he was dancing to the rhythm of everybody else's heart.
-
"I really like you." Frank said, rolling over and touching the side of Gerard's face carefully.
Gerard didn't know what to answer to that, had no idea, his brain was set on pause, so he sighed, turning away from Frank's touch so his cheek was left cold. "Frank, I can't. You know, my job and all. This is just..We're just.."
"No it's okay, I get it." Frank's eyes hardened, and appeared sore and hurt at the same time. He sat up between the soft sheets, leaning against the headboard. "I think you should go."
-
It was night when Gerard sat with his knees to his chest, studying the cigarette between his fingers. The orange glow of the ash seemed unreal in the dark apartment, and he exhaled the thick, silver smoke through his nostrils. Out the window he could see the thousands of yellow lights dotted onto the shadows of black buildings, standing tall and dark in the night, strange and scary. The police sirens and rumble of cars worked as a surreal, but familiar soundtrack in the night, and his chest tightened suddenly.
He had dinner with his mom the next day, and she would ask about the girlfriend she hadn't gotten the pleasure of meeting. Gerard couldn't remember what name he made up. Mary? Anna? Something like that. She'd start talking about uncles and aunts he'd never met, about wanting grandchildren, and he'd wave it away, hug her close when it was time to get her home, and then press his head against the wheel when she was out of sight.
He was thirty-two years old and a coward, more afraid of not following every unwritten rule or fitting into his pre-ordained place in society than he was of losing himself along the way.
He couldn't take it.
Stomping out the cigarette, he slid down from the window frame. He stood looking out for a little while, feeling numb and slightly dazed, before he made up his mind, got his jacked and left the apartment.
It was cold and raining as he ran, doing his best to push the wet hair out of his face to at least see where he was going. A car flew by, just a flash of front lights and an icy splash of water against his ankles, making him curse under his breath. He couldn't really talk because of the burn in his lungs. He needed to quit smoking.
He knew where he was going, he really did, he could feel it lurking behind his ribs and swirl at the back of his mind, and he started counting the buildings as he ran, cutting through the rain.
25,
27,
29,
31,
Frank..
And he stopped.
He couldn't tear is eyes away from the figure he could see inside the apartment, through the small window, bent over his shitty guitar, hair falling in front of his face. Frank was so beautiful, he was so beautiful and so kind. He tucked Gerard's hair behind his ear when they watched movies together, he sent the warmest smiles his way when they were cooking by the tiny counter, making a complete mess, and he kissed the side of his face, his neck, everywhere he could reach, when it was late and they were tangled up in sweaty sheets, eager, panting, moving.
Gerard felt regret seep down along his back and curl painfully inside his stomach.
It took him so long to knock the door, he thought he might just end up standing there until morning creeped on. His feet were cold.
"Frank," He said the second their eyes met, before the door was even fully open, and his fingers were shaking. He reached out an arm, moving a little on the wet concrete. "I'm sorry."
Frank's expression was unreadable for a second or two, he looked confused in a way, but his eyes were blank. "Gerard.." He said, blinking. He grabbed Gerard's hand, then, and pulled their bodies together, Gerard's cold, wet chest crashing with Frank's steady, warm one. "Thank god." Frank said, placing his hand on the back of Gerard's head, holding him close. "Thank god."