Eighteen Forever (Sun Poisoned)
Gerard/Frank
One-shot
AU. Mikey brings his friend home to help with a school project, but it's Gerard who falls for him. Written for shadowstohidein for fic_exchange. Rated R for language and sexuality.
3,683 words
Written August 18, 2005.
The first time Mikey walked in on them, it was already too late for him to stop anything, but he tried anyway. He asked Gerard, "Can I talk to you for a minute?" in that tone that implies, very clearly, that anyone else in the room should beat it. Frank didn't, though, so Mikey grabbed Gerard's wrist and pulled him out into the hall.
"You know," he hissed, "that's a freshman."
In response, Gerard nearly fell down laughing. He gasped through his laughter, "Let me get this straight - oh, god - you're fine with me making out with your friend, you're fine with that, your male friend. But not with him being a freshman - god, Mikey!"
Mikey played with the zipper on his jacket. "Not funny," he said. "And anyway - he can't even drive! You're graduating in a week, Gee. That's kind of sick."
"He started it, you know."
"I don't care!" Mikey's eyes were wide, and he looked everywhere but the half-unbuttoned whiteness of Gerard's shirt. The surprisingly clean, pale skin beneath.
Of course, it wasn't like Gerard normally wore button-down shirts, but Mikey got the vague feeling he had, because he knew Frank would be over. It was something Gerard would do. Not that he wore it because he wanted to look nice, but because it provided the opportunity for moments like this, his lips red from kissing and his hair sticking out in pieces. All cliche and movie drama. Yeah, Gerard had definitely planned this one.
Gerard ignored Mikey's awkwardness, though. He just said, "Hey, like you'd be able to resist that." He jerked his head towards the bedroom, smiling in that shy way that meant, I really like this guy so shut up already.
"It's not like I'm, you know," Mikey said lamely. He knew he'd lost but it was worth a shot anyway.
"If you were," Gerard said. He kissed Mikey's forehead and then went back in, and this time Mikey heard the lock click. So he went downstairs and made himself a sandwich even though they were eating dinner in half an hour. And Gerard went back to making out with Frank, only pausing to offer the explanation of, "My brother thinks too much."
Frank figured this wasn't the best explanation, but Gerard had two fingers slipped into the front of his jeans. He made a mental note to ask later.
Surprisingly enough, Gerard had been telling the truth - the whole thing had been Frank's idea in the first place. Gerard was perfectly content to moon over Frank every time he was in the house, taking any excuse to sneak into the kitchen. His mother said, "You've emptied the dishwasher more this week than in the past month," and Gerard just blushed, mumbled something about taking responsibility. It wasn't like he was about to tell his mother that he had a hopeless crush on one of Mikey's school friends.
That's how they met. Not through any sort of romantic, soul-searing moment in the hallway, eyes catching each other. Gerard didn't save Frank from a group of immature bullies. There were no football captains calling Frank a faggot - in fact, until the moment Frank threw him against his bedroom door and kissed him, Gerard had no clue Frank was the slightest bit gay.
The kiss seemed rushed and messy but in reality, it had been neatly planned. Frank had been at the Way house every day for two weeks straight, working on a huge biology project. It took two weeks partially because Mikey was hopeless with biology, but mostly because every time Gerard stepped into the kitchen, Frank would drop whatever he was doing to talk with him. He'd comment on Gerard's band shirts and ask if Gerard had the new Fangoria, even though Frank had a subscription and already had his own copy.
By the end of the two weeks, Frank had worked out a number of things about Gerard. For one, that he was hopelessly shy - even after all those days, he still always mumbled, "I don't want to bother you guys, really", and tried to edge towards the door. And for another, that the Way brothers were insanely protective of each other. If Frank teased Mikey, Gerard would grab him around the neck and pretend to strangle him (a fact that made him joke about Mikey endlessly, of course). And if Frank's references to Gerard were less than innocent, Mikey would flush up and throw the nearest small object at Frank's head.
But the most important thing he worked out - as well as the easiest - was that Gerard was a senior.
And that's how he eased into the kiss. He and Mikey finished their project, and Frank asked to see what comics Gerard had, now that they had some free time. Not the best ruse, but it worked. Once into Gerard's room, he locked the door behind him and said, "You're a senior, right?"
"Mmhm. It's a little scary." Gerard flashed him a shy smile.
"I bet. Graduating soon, and all..." It was late April, so soon meant two weeks. Frank said, "You're going away soon, then."
"Yeah, I'm going to NYU for art."
"So I don't have to see you again after this," Frank said thoughtfully. "If things go wrong." Gerard was crouched over in front of his bookcase, and while his ass wasn't particularly nice - it was a little on the large side, much like everything else about Gerard - but Frank looked at it anyway. He liked it, probably, as much as he was going to like an ass. When Gerard turned around to ask him what he meant, Frank said, "Come over here, yeah?"
Gerard did so, saying, "Uh, yeah..." He looked like he was about to say something else, maybe, but Frank grabbed two fistfuls of his T-shirt and spun him around, pushing him into the locked door. Then Frank kissed him.
As kisses go, it wasn't particularly good. Frank remembered parts of it for long after though - not even the kiss, really. But the way his fingers were pressed right against Gerard's nipples, which was really weird on one level and kind of sexy on another. And the way Gerard stiffened up, then relaxed into the kiss, and his fingers kept brushing against the back of Frank's neck, right over the spine.
When he pulled back, Gerard said, "I didn't know you were - "
"Yeah, I didn't know you were, either," Frank said. He kissed Gerard again.
Eventually they stumbled over to the bed, in one of those mutual decisions that each thought the other made. And both of them were terrified, thinking, does this mean we're going to have sex - but of course they didn't. Just sat there making out, Frank on Gerard's lap, hands tangled in Gerard's hair. When Mikey knocked on the door and yelled, "You've been looking at those stupid comics for an hour," they jumped apart and looked at each other guiltily.
"Sorry," Gerard called out. He reached out and smoothed down a bit of Frank's hair. He said, quieter, "So what now?"
It was a cliche question, but Frank had been expecting it. "Well, now I go home and jerk off like crazy." And then they both laughed - it wasn't especially funny, but it was true, so they laughed, falling against each other and feeling suddenly, remarkably close. "And if you want," Frank said, "I'll come by tomorrow."
"Yeah," Gerard said. "I'd like that."
Frank adjusted his pants a little, pulling his jacket down over his hips, and waved goodbye to Gerard. He unlocked the door and left, and Gerard could hear him say, "I'll see you later, Mikey." He managed to wait until Frank was out the door to start jumping up and down.
"Quit that," Mikey yelled, "You're shaking the entire house!" And Gerard only laughed.
For a week, Frank and Gerard carried on like that, in secret. Gerard came up with some story about helping Frank study for the algebra final; Mikey, who had had more than enough of algebra the year before, was content to stay in his own room and study alone. And Gerard would blast old Misfits EPs to drown out their conversations. They talked mostly about stupid things. They bounced around ideas for the ultimate band - debated whether Keith Morris was better in Black Flag or the Circle Jerks. Gerard argued for Circle Jerks, mostly because he liked the name more; Frank argued for Black Flag, saying, "They're just a better band, period."
Sometimes when Frank actually did try to study, Gerard would sketch him quietly. He'd tell Frank, "A little to the left," and Frank would flip him off but do so. When he tried to see the pictures, Gerard would shove them between his bed and the wall; Frank tackled him and tried to pull them back out.
And in typical teenage-boy fashion, they ended up making out again after that, the pictures forgotten entirely. Gerard loved that - the way Frank made him feel helpless, pinned to the bed, even though Frank was younger and smaller. His fingers dug into the softness of Gerard's upper arms. When they managed to pull themselves apart, Gerard would feel bruised all over.
That's how it went for a week, until Gerard got lazy and didn't lock the door. Then Mikey burst in on them.
That night, once Frank had gone home, Gerard sat down with Mikey and tried to talk it out. Despite all the casual things he'd said, he desperately wanted Mikey to be all right with it - if it wasn't, he knew he'd stop calling Frank at midnight, just to ask if he was asleep yet.
But sure enough, Mikey was fine. He shrugged and said, "It's stupid and a little creepy. But he likes you." And Gerard knew, that was code for, I love you and it's all right. It was the same as when he was thirteen, and Mikey was eleven, and they'd been watching Dawn of the Dead. Mikey turned to Gerard and said casually, "Hey, Gee?"
"Yeah?"
"You're gay, aren't you."
"Yeah, pretty much," Gerard said, and Mikey nodded and turned back to the movie. More zombies showed up. He squealed in fear, burying his face in Gerard's shoulder, and Gerard laughed. "God, Mikey, you're such a fag sometimes."
"You're the one who likes boys!" Mikey flailed at him, hands in fists, and Gerard knew it was pretty childish to still wrestle with his younger brother. But he did it anyway. They were both laughing too hard to breathe by the end, and when they looked up, the movie was over. Mikey snuggled into Gerard's side and mumbled, "I'm not scared anymore."
That was the same kind of code he was speaking in when he told Gerard, "If you hurt him, I'm going to be really pissed at you." Because Gerard knew it meant, he better not lay a hand on you except the way you want it. But of course Mikey didn't say that - mostly because it'd be too awkward.
So Gerard and Frank went on like that. They spent time at Frank's house, too, although less often - he had both parents around to catch them. Considerably more dangerous. Gerard graduated at the end of May, and in a show of cheesiness, his mother took them out for ice cream; Gerard brought Frank along to keep him company. He watched Frank make a show out of eating the cherry off his sundae, licking the whipped cream off first. Gerard laughed and tried to tell himself how cliche it was, but he couldn't help telling his mother, "We'll be right back, I gotta talk to Frank."
In the least filthy stall of the bathroom, Gerard pressed his leg between Frank's. When he moaned it was so quiet that neither of them were sure he was actually making sound, except for his hot breath on Gerard's neck. They stayed like that, holding their breath and rocking their hips together, until Mikey barged into the bathroom and said loudly, "Mom's wondering where you guys are, dumbasses." Frank pulled his head back and smirked.
"Sorry, man," he said. "Tell her I was throwing up."
"You're sick sometimes," Mikey said, but he laughed when he did. Gerard kissed Frank's cheek and then they tried to fix each other's hair. Frank splashed cool water on his face, because he was bright red, sweating a little.
By then, though, they were already having sex pretty regularly. Neither of them quite wanted to try real sex - not the kind with lube and fingers and everything. Gerard would crack jokes about it, and Frank would laugh along, but they both kind of got awkward if either mentioned it seriously. Mikey asked Gerard, once, if they were really doing anything like that; his voice was sort of awed. Like, god, my big brother's grown up.
"Nah," Gerard said, blushing and kicking at the ground. "I, um... it'd hurt. A lot. And it'd be pretty messy, and you know, I really don't want to - "
"Oh! Oh, right." Mikey turned red and nodded emphatically. "That... makes a lot of sense. Yeah." And Gerard nodded too, and they both looked down. Then they went to watch TV and eat ice cream out of the container, Mikey clutching it to himself and making Gerard fight for it.
That was pretty much how it went for everything, really. Gerard and Frank kind of sidestepped the fact that they were dating. Because honestly, they didn't date - maybe went to the arcade after Frank got out of school. They won all the stuffed Spiderman dolls out of the crane game and traded when they got back to Gerard's house, laughing because they were the same dolls. "It's the principle of the thing," Gerard said.
And sometimes they'd go out to get pizza, but it wasn't like a date-thing. More like, Frank would say, "Fuck I'm hungry," so Gerard would get his wallet and drive them down to Pizza Hut. That was always awkward - the car ride. Frank would kick at the floor of the car and Gerard would think goddamn he's so young. But then Frank would say something like, "So really, I think Robin could take a lot more people in a fight than you'd think, he's not just Batman's errand boy," and they'd argue that the rest of the way. And Gerard would think, oh, but aren't I just as young as him?
All their non-dates went like that. Arguments, shoving each other into cars in the parking lot, and then holding hands on the drive home. Their fingers, laced together below the windows, where nobody could see.
If Frank was in a really good mood, he'd say, "Hey, let's go out to the park." He only said it when it was late, and the sun was setting, casting long pale shadows over the parking lot; Gerard always parked beneath the same big oak, so the leaves made a canopy above them.
They'd sit in the backseat together with their knees pressed against each other. Then they'd jerk each other off, or take turns going down on each other. Frank always did Gerard first - if he waited till last, he'd get turned on again by the way Gerard threw his head back, mouth shaped into a perfect O. Gerard would come down from the orgasm and realize Frank wanted it again, and he'd immediately move to his knees, bumping his shins into the front seats. Frank protested but it didn't do much good. So he went first whenever he had the chance - not that he didn't like Gerard doing that, but he felt bad. Gerard would sit up, wiping his mouth, and laugh; he'd say, "God, my jaw is so fucking sore."
Afterwards, they'd look out at the dark of the slides and monkey bars. "We'll get caught," Gerard would say. Frank shook his head and kissed Gerard. Gently, so he didn't get scared.
Or Frank would laugh and bump Gerard's shoulder with his own and say, "One day, it'll just fall off, I swear."
"Nah," Gerard would say, laughing. He'd shift his head to Frank's lap. Their entwined hands were sticky. "I usually jerk off way more than this - I'm doing pretty good, I think." They'd both giggle, then fall suddenly quiet, as if realizing what exactly they were doing.
It was still early in the summer when their one-month anniversary came. Gerard laughed at himself for a week before it for even thinking of it, and then panicked, because he couldn't remember the date; all that week, he was on edge around Frank.
That Thursday, Frank finally gave in and said, "You know, it's today."
"You - oh. You remembered?"
"Of course I remembered, dumbass." Frank laughed and didn't look away from the TV screen. It was just an old Looney Tunes rerun, but he had a strange affinity for them, and could recite some of his favorite lines by heart.
Gerard tugged on the hem of his T-shirt. His mother was out - it was summer, so they had the house to themselves while she worked - so he was resting his head in Frank's lap. On occasion, he'd turn his head, kiss Frank's stomach. He tried to find the navel through his T-shirt. "Hey," he said. "You wrote it down, didn't you?" Frank stayed silent, and Gerard burst out laughing. "You did, I bet it's on your calendar with, like, hearts around it."
"Pink hearts," Frank said. It was the kind of perfectly deadpan line that made Gerard think maybe he was telling the truth.
"God," he said. "You're so fucking gay."
"And you're not?" Frank looked down then, grinning. Gerard thought he could maybe fall in love just because of that grin. The same one Frank used when he told Gerard how he'd tried, yet again, to sneak into one of Belleville's three tattoo shops - all the clerks knew him on sight by then, but he never gave up. Or the same one as when he tried to tell Mikey in explicit detail about their latest adventure at the park. Mikey always screamed and ran for his room, and Gerard turned bright red; Frank just sat there smirking.
Yeah, Gerard definitely thought he could fall for that smile.
"Nah," he said, "at least not as gay as you are." Frank yelped and threw Gerard off his lap, trying to pin him to the couch. They struggled like that for a bit, rolling off the couch and onto the floor with a thump, hands tangled in each other's shirts; Mikey yelled from the kitchen, "I don't want to know what you're doing!"
Gerard laughed, and it got caught in his throat. "Shit," he said. "I forgot he's here."
"Me too," Frank said, pressing his hips down into Gerard's. That same smirk again. "Hey, Mikey! Who's a bigger fag? Me or your brother?" Mikey let out a strangled noise, and Frank laughed, almost breathlessly. He mumbled into Gerard's ear, "If he says you, you have to tell him to leave us alone."
Gerard couldn't think of anything - the heat and weight of Frank's body on his clouded his mind, and made him forget everything, so he said, "If he says you, then you have to kiss me." Frank snorted and kissed him anyway. On the floor, with the couch blocking them from view, it was like everything Gerard ever wanted. A secret fort in his living room, with a prince with a foul mouth and tattoos sketched onto his arms and chest in Sharpie. "God," he whispered. "You're something."
From the next room, Mikey called out, "You're both disgusting!"
"He loves us," Gerard said. "I promise."
"Wants us to get married."
"Let's get married." Gerard laughed, because marriage wasn't exactly something they could manage, and they were stupid teenagers - Frank was still only a sophomore, god. But he also laughed because he kind of really wanted to marry Frank right then. Frank nuzzled into Gerard's neck and when he spoke, it was in a playful whisper.
"Yeah, that'd go over well with my folks." He ticked off the reasons on his fingers: "I'm married... to a guy... who's in college... who got me knocked up... "
"I did not!" Gerard shrieked with laughter, pushing Frank off him, then immediately pulling him right back to his side. "You're not pregnant, shut the fuck up." In the kitchen, Mikey groaned, and they both laughed behind their hands.
"No really," Frank said. "I'm going to have babies. Lots of them, and we'll name all the boys Sid and all the girls Nancy, and we can give them little baby mohawks." He smiled as he said it, and his lips moved against Gerard's neck. It was so beautiful and clear - the kids with their hair dyed with Kool-Aid, and Frank yelling at them to shut the fuck up, he had their damn bottles. It was fucking outrageous and Gerard loved it.
"Hey," he said. "Hey. Frank. I told you, you're so fucking gay." Frank laughed and shook his head, and the sunlight filtered through the cheap curtains, turning Frank's hair lighter, tipped with gold.
In three months Gerard would leave but right then, they had all summer. Three months to spend eating cherry popsicles and kissing under the slide at the park. Enough time to drive out to Newark together, sit on the front porch sharing cigarettes, find parties and crash them. Or if they didn't feel like that, they could spray-paint immense hearts on the side of the high school, over the chalked-on phone numbers and crude drawings.
In three months, Gerard would leave to become an adult. But lying on his living room floor with Frank, their hips and wrists pressed together, everything fell into place. He was a little boy or he was a man and none of it made the slightest difference.