Three Cheers for Tyranny [part 5b]

[silentdescant]

Three Cheers for Tyranny

[ index] - [ prologue] - [ part 1] - [ part 2] - [ part 3] - [ part 4] - [ part 5a] - [part 5b] - [ part 6]

[ art by laziilemon] - [ mix by quarterturn]

Gerard waited until the rest of the house was asleep before sneaking into Frank’s room every night for the next week. They didn’t always have sex, depending on how tired they were or how much Frank’s back ached from moving too much, but Frank was happy with what they did do: kissing, touching, sleeping together. He was getting better at giving Gerard blowjobs as well, learning through practice and Gerard’s example.

It became something of a routine to wait up while silence settled around him and listen closely for the sound of Gerard’s muffled footsteps and the muted squeak of Frank’s door as Gerard slipped inside. But after more than a week of that routine, Frank snuck out into the hall only a few minutes after everyone had gone to bed. The lights across the hall in Mikey, Mark, and Tony’s rooms were off, as were Gerard’s at the end of the hall. Frank tip-toed to Gerard’s door and put his ear against it. He couldn’t hear anything. He decided to risk Gerard freaking out and open the door.

He heard a sharp intake of breath and closed the door behind him. In the dim light from the windows, Frank could make out Gerard’s outline. He was standing halfway between the bed and the door, apparently on his way to Frank’s room.

“Gee-” Frank whispered.

“Frank,” Gerard breathed. As Frank’s eyes adjusted, he saw Gerard open his mouth to say more, but Frank went up to him and pressed his lips to Gerard’s, cutting him off. Gerard’s hands moved automatically to Frank’s waist; Frank lifted one hand to Gerard’s cheek, fingers curling around the corner of his jaw.

“I want you to fuck me,” he said clearly when they broke apart.

“Are you sure?” Gerard asked, his voice low and serious.

Frank paused and arched his body against Gerard’s, letting him feel Frank’s erection. “Yes,” he answered.

Gerard exhaled slowly, his breath hot on Frank’s face, and asked, “Here?”

“Yes. Please, Gee, come on.” Frank leaned in for a kiss, but Gerard pulled back and kept an inch of space between their lips.

“Get on the bed,” he whispered. Frank could almost taste the words as they were leaving Gerard’s mouth. When Frank started to move, Gerard lifted both arms and held him close. “How do you want…”

“I want to see you,” Frank answered quietly.

Gerard nodded and Frank pulled him towards the mattress and then up onto it. They sat there for a moment, Gerard sliding his hands up and down Frank’s sides, then finally slipping beneath his t-shirt to touch skin. Frank raised his arms and Gerard pulled the shirt over his head. Then, finally, Gerard was close enough to kiss, and Frank did. He leaned forward until their lips met and held on tight while Gerard guided him down to the pillows, dragging Gerard with him so they were both lying down.

Gerard got rid of Frank’s boxers and his own shirt, and stretched over Frank to reach the lube in his nightstand drawer. Remembering how tight Gerard had been, Frank tensed up automatically. Gerard laid his palm on Frank’s stomach and rubbed it in small circles.

“It’s okay,” he said, his expression clear and encouraging. Frank believed him. “Here, lift up your knees more.”

Gerard guided him into a better position, one that left Frank feeling extremely exposed, but he figured that was alright. Kind of the whole point, even. He closed his eyes and breathed out through his mouth. As he’d done with Gerard, the slow, one- and two-fingered stretching, Gerard did to him. It was definitely… weird. Frank told himself he just wasn’t used to it. Yet.

The lube, at least, made everything more comfortable, though it was still kind of awkward. Frank found himself tensing up despite himself, and rocking his hips in a not-quite rhythm that didn’t match Gerard’s fingers.

Gerard stroked his free hand across Frank’s stomach, following the line of his hipbones down to his dick, which was half-hard and kind of tingly with hopeful anticipation. Gerard kissed Frank’s knee and curled his hand loosely around him, and Frank lifted his hips up off the bed. Gerard kissed his thigh the next time, and moved his hand to settle Frank down.

“Shh, shh,” he murmured. When Frank finally stilled, muscles as tight with restrained desire as ever, Gerard slid his hand up Frank’s inner thigh.

“Oh fuck, ow, ow, augh,” Frank gasped, flinging one arm out to the side and grabbing the sheets tightly.

Gerard moved his hands immediately and said, “Frankie?”

“Not you, it’s not you, oh fuck,” Frank replied breathlessly. “My back. Cramp, or something. Fuck.”

“Okay, okay,” Gerard soothed. “Can you turn over?”

Gerard smoothed his palms down Frank’s side and helped him turn over onto his stomach. Frank clutched at the pillow, shoulders tense.

“Around the scar?” Gerard asked gently. Frank nodded and groaned. “Shh, it’s okay. Just relax, okay?” He kept one hand on Frank’s back while he moved around, shifting so that he was straddling Frank’s thighs. Frank heard him uncap the tube of lubricant and squeeze some out. When Gerard touched him again, his hands were slick and cool. “It’ll warm up,” he whispered.

Gerard rubbed Frank’s shoulders firmly, then eased up pressure as he moved lower, but Frank couldn’t hold back the hiss of pain when Gerard’s thumbs pressed too hard on the cramp. Gerard moved his hands back up and concentrated on easing the tension in Frank’s shoulders.

“Relax, Frank,” he said, kissing the nape of Frank’s neck. “Don’t tense up, that’ll make it worse. Just relax.” He kept up the careful kneading motions until Frank was able to lie flat on the bed.

“This will probably hurt a little,” he murmured, and slowly moved his hands down Frank’s spine. Frank couldn’t contain a short, sharp grunt of pain. Gerard slid his fingers carefully over Frank’s skin, applying consistent pressure as he worked the tension out of Frank’s muscles. Once Frank had relaxed completely, Gerard’s touch turned more sensual, gentle, and Frank could feel every line on his smooth palms.

Gerard dipped down and mouthed at Frank’s shoulder, leaving a damp spot that gave Frank goose-bumps as the cooler air dried his skin. Gerard moved lower and dragged his teeth along Frank’s shoulder blade.

“Mm, Frankie,” he whispered, breath hot and lips wet, and Frank could feel it all so perfectly.

Frank sighed and reached one arm back to touch Gerard’s knee. As he slid his hand up to his thigh, he encountered the hem of Gerard’s boxers.

“Take these off,” he said softly, tugging at them. “Fuck me.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Gerard asked, and Frank felt a rush of cold air as Gerard sat up. Frank turned his head and looked back over his shoulder. He could only see about half of Gerard’s face from this position, and Gerard was watching him with clear concern.

“Yes. Yes, Gee, please, I want you to fuck me.”

Gerard leaned down over him again and kissed the corner of Frank’s mouth, his tongue darting out to wet Frank’s lips before he pulled back enough to speak. “Maybe it would be better if you were like this,” he said apologetically.

Frank nodded and rubbed his cheek on the soft pillowcase. “This is okay,” he conceded. As long as Gerard kept touching him, kissing him, as long as Gerard eventually fucked him, then he would be happy. “Kiss me again,” he said, and Gerard did.

On his back, Frank could feel the heat radiating from Gerard’s chest, and he arched up slightly so that they touched. He couldn’t hold the position for very long, and Gerard moved anyway, kissing and licking his way down Frank’s spine to the top of his ass.

“Still good?” he asked. His breath made Frank shiver.

“Yeah, good,” Frank answered, tilting his hips up and spreading his legs. He heard the now-familiar sound of Gerard squeezing lube out of the bottle and then Gerard’s hand, wet fingertips and smooth skin, slid up between his thighs to his ass.

“Pick up where we left off?”

Frank grabbed his own wrist beneath his pillow and nodded. This time, when Gerard pressed one finger into him, he wasn’t nervous. It didn’t really hurt, though it was still a little weird, and Gerard quickly added a second finger. Frank made a muffled noise at the stretch and Gerard ran his other hand gently up and down Frank’s thigh to soothe him.

It wasn’t long before Frank got used to the feeling; he rocked his hips back against Gerard’s hand, silently asking for more. Gerard’s free hand rested on Frank’s back, fingertips slowly meandering over his skin, and Frank finally figured out that Gerard must be tracing his tattoos.

Gerard stretched out over him and kissed the shell of his ear. “You ready?” he whispered. “You want it?” He twisted his fingers and Frank moaned aloud, turning his head in an effort to reach Gerard’s mouth.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck,” he gasped. Frank closed his eyes.

Gerard moved his hands to Frank’s hips. “Lift up a little,” he said quietly, and helped Frank up so his knees were sort of underneath him. Frank stayed wherever Gerard positioned him, pliant and willing. He felt Gerard scrambling around behind him, and when Gerard leaned over him and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, Frank shifted back and realized Gerard had taken off his boxers. Gerard’s dick pressed up against his ass.

“Tell me.”

“I want you to fuck me,” Frank whispered.

As Gerard pushed in, Frank turned his face into the pillow and groaned as quietly as he could manage. His hands clenched into fists; he sucked in a deep breath and concentrated hard on releasing that tension.

It took a few minutes for Frank to become accustomed to Gerard’s size, and even though he was going slow, achingly slow, the feeling was still strange and uncomfortable.

Gerard rested one hand on Frank’s hip, his thumb digging in a little. Frank forced his right hand to release its grip on the sheets and reached behind him so he could touch Gerard as well. His fingers found Gerard’s thigh, and he felt muscles tensing in time with his thrusts.

“Gee, Gee,” Frank gasped. “God, Gerard.”

Frank rose to his elbows and knees, arching his back when Gerard licked and sucked a spot on his shoulder, his earlier soreness fading from his mind. The twinges of pain were forgotten on Gerard’s next thrust, a slightly different angle, and Frank couldn’t help himself: he cried out loudly and tossed his head back, hair in his eyes.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned. Gerard reached up and clapped his free hand over Frank’s mouth.

“Shh,” he murmured, slowing his thrusts. He licked Frank’s earlobe, nibbled on it a little. On the next stroke Frank cried out again. This time the sound was muffled, but not by much.

“Oh God, oh my God, Gerard, Gee, oh God, oh fuck,” Frank babbled, nearly indecipherable through Gerard’s fingers. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever felt before, not even sex with a girl or fucking Gerard. He leaned his head back against Gerard’s shoulder.

“I knew you’d be a screamer,” Gerard whispered in a filthy voice. Frank licked Gerard’s hand and groaned.

Frank turned his head out of Gerard’s grasp, trying to look over his shoulder and meet Gerard’s half-lidded gaze. “Fucking kiss me, Jesus Christ, Gerard, fuck.”

Gerard raked his nails down to Frank’s chest from his throat. His tongue traced the tattoos on Frank’s neck, and Frank got weak at the knees. Gerard’s arms kept him from falling down onto the bed, and he managed to make the trip a little more gracefully. Gerard went down with him, resting more weight on him now that he apparently didn’t seem so fragile.

“God, Frankie, I’ve wanted to fuck you for so fucking long,” Gerard gasped. Frank could tell he was getting close.

“Should’ve done this years ago,” Frank replied. “Shit, Gee, God, please…” Frank wedged his hand under his body and rocked his hips into the mattress, trying to keep up a counterpoint rhythm to Gerard’s thrusts. “Shit, shit, Gee, gonna come, oh fuck.”

Gerard bit the junction of Frank’s neck and shoulder, and Frank shouted in surprise, thankfully muffled by pressing his face into the pillow. The next thing Frank was aware of was the wet spot beneath his dick and Gerard gasping out half-words and groans whenever he could spare the breath.

When Gerard finished-and that was a totally awesome and fucking dirty feeling, one that Frank hoped he would become quite familiar with-he rolled to the side, his arms around Frank, and gently kissed the spot he’d bitten. It was throbbing, a livid mark, and Frank could tell that it would probably bruise. He turned his head and grinned.

“We are so doing that again,” he said, before Gerard could ask if he was okay. Frank could see the question on the tip of Gerard’s tongue. He smiled smugly and Gerard laughed.

“Go to sleep, you.”

***

The tension between them had been ratcheting up all day; both of them could feel it, and they exchanged knowing, wanting glances whenever people were looking the other direction. Frank had been licking his lips too much and they were getting chapped, but he couldn’t stop. Every time Gerard turned his intense stare over to him, Frank’s tongue darted out involuntarily, the same way his head tilted back just slightly as he exhaled. Frank had noticed Gerard’s knuckles going white with pressure from pressing his fingernails into his palm. He wanted those nails clawing at his back, at his ass; he could almost feel phantom scratches there when he thought about it. Frank ducked his head, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

As soon as Frank closed the door behind the last visitor of the day, he heard Gerard stand up and walk towards him.

“Over the fucking desk, Frankie,” Gerard hissed, already pulling apart his belt buckle and slacks. While Frank shimmied out of his own pants and wriggled out of his shirt without unbuttoning it, Gerard pushed aside papers and pens and an overflowing ashtray to make room. Then he put his hand firmly between Frank’s shoulder blades and pushed him down over the desk. Frank lifted his arms and gripped the opposite edge.

“Fuck, fuck, Gerard, c’mon,” he breathed. Gerard leaned over him; his shirt was only partially unbuttoned and felt rough against Frank’s back. The desk was cold beneath Frank’s cheek, but it heated up quickly with Frank’s own body temperature as Gerard licked a long stripe from Frank’s shoulder up to beneath his ear. “Oh god,” Frank moaned, “come on, Gee, please.”

Frank could feel Gerard’s pants against the backs of his legs and ignored them; this was going to be quick and dirty, that’s what they both needed right now. Gerard reached down and pressed two fingers between Frank’s thighs, far enough forward to rub at the space behind his balls.

“Lube,” Gerard whispered. “Drawer.” Frank forced one hand to let go of the edge of the desk and reach blindly for the drawer. Luckily, the lube was at the front and Frank was able to find it by touch. He twisted his arm behind his back and Gerard held him there by his wrist. His fingers flexed open. Gerard grabbed the lube before it fell.

Gerard made quick work of it, coating two fingers and pressing them steadily into Frank’s ass. Frank breathed through his teeth, though his spine arched and he pushed back towards Gerard’s hand.

“Fuck, Gerard, please, please fucking do it, God,” he babbled. His arm slid out of Gerard’s weak grasp and he clamped his fingers around the desk again, white-knuckled and probably digging grooves into the underside of the lip with his nails. Frank’s mouth hung open; he was drooling onto the desk. “Please, please, Gee, oh god, please,” he gasped. He closed his eyes.

Finally, Gerard replaced his fingers with his dick. Frank lifted his head from the desk, eyes still closed and mouth still open, and made a guttural sound deep in his throat. The stretch was almost too much, just barely on this side of painful, but Frank didn’t care. He arched his back and felt Gerard do the same, bringing their bodies into closer contact.

“Gonna come all over your fucking desk, Gerard,” Frank gritted out a few minutes later. Gerard thrust into him hard and they both moaned.

“I don’t even fucking care right now, Frankie,” he admitted, his voice a high-pitched whine.

Frank reached back and tugged at the hem of Gerard’s shirt. “Take it off, take it off,” he hissed. Chuckling breathlessly, Gerard shrugged out of it.

“Needed a wash anyway,” he said as Frank pushed back. He made room between his hips and the sharp edge of the desk and pinned the shirt there, then reached down to grasp his cock. Gerard’s hand joined his in the next second. “Want you to come, Frankie, want you to come first, come on,” Gerard said urgently.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck, Gee, yes,” Frank chanted. Gerard rolled his hips, making Frank cry out sharply. He came in a quick burst over his and Gerard’s hands, making a mess of Gerard’s nice shirt, and Gerard followed a moment later with a low, needy groan.

When they’d pulled apart, both panting for breath, Gerard said, “God, I needed that.”

“Fuck yes,” Frank agreed. “Fuck. Yes.” He glanced over at Gerard, who looked a little dazed and weary. “Can we go to bed? I wanna blow you.”

Gerard closed his eyes and sighed blissfully, his hand warm and limp on Frank’s forearm. “Fuck, yeah, let’s go to bed.”

***

Gerard seemed to make a habit of staying in Frank’s room most nights, whether they had sex or not. Frank thought it might be a comfort thing; it had been Gerard’s room back when Gerard first had a boyhood crush on Frank, so it kind of made sense.

But Frank’s room didn’t have an en suite bathroom, or a king-sized bed, or a fantastic headboard that Frank liked to hold onto while they fucked. So he slipped into Gerard’s room sometimes, and Gerard always followed.

Frank woke up there one night, lying on his stomach with Gerard’s arm draped over his back and his legs a dead weight over Frank’s calves. He was instantly alert, asleep one moment and awake the next, and he blinked a few times, trying to figure out why.

“Gee? Gee? Gerard?” Mikey whispered from the doorway. Every muscle in Frank’s body tensed up. The blankets were pushed down far enough for Mikey to see that they were both shirtless, at least, and while Frank sometimes slept in just his boxers, Gerard never did, when he was sleeping alone.

Frank heard Mikey take a few steps into the room and then stop. “Oh,” Mikey breathed, so quietly that Frank wasn’t sure he’d heard him at all. Mikey then retraced his steps, opened the door, and left.

Frank nudged Gerard’s shoulder. “Gerard. Gerard, wake up.” Gerard’s brow wrinkled but he didn’t wake. Frank shook him a little. “Gerard, wake up,” he hissed.

“Mmph, what’s wrong?”

“Mikey came in.”

“He does that sometimes,” Gerard mumbled without opening his eyes. He shifted closer and rubbed his nose against Frank’s arm. “Go t’sleep, Frankie.”

“Gerard,” Frank said again, punctuating it with a poke to Gerard’s shoulder. “Mikey came in. I’m here.”

Gerard opened his eyes. “What happened?” he asked softly.

“He came in, he scared me, I thought-I don’t know, but he came in, and he asked for you, and then he said, ‘Oh,’ and then he left, and that’s it-” Frank whispered in a frantic jumble of syllables.

Gerard glanced over to the door. “He just left?”

“Yeah.”

Gerard nodded slowly and tugged Frank up against him. “Go back to sleep, Frank, we’ll deal with it tomorrow. It’ll be okay.”

***

Frank couldn’t meet Mikey’s eyes the next morning over breakfast. He’d gotten up ungodly early and crept back to his own room, where he changed clothes and had a short nap, but it was still far earlier than he usually woke up. Frank decided to pretend that he’d been asleep when Mikey walked in on them, to see if Mikey would let it slide or… Frank hoped he wouldn’t bring it up.

He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table with it, staring down at the mug instead up at Mikey’s face.

“He’s been spending the night in your room, hasn’t he?” Mikey asked in a low voice. Frank licked his lips and opened his mouth, but he couldn’t think of how to answer. “I’ve gone in the past three nights and he’s been gone,” Mikey continued. “He was with you, wasn’t he?”

Frank nodded, still staring down at the dark, steaming coffee.

“For God’s sake, don’t do anything stupid, Frank,” Mikey muttered under his breath. “Do not ruin his life for some stupid fuck.”

“I’m not-” Frank began, finally looking up. “He-”

“As Gerard’s brother, I’m obligated to say something,” Mikey explained. “But Frankie, this is a dangerous situation. If someone finds out, and they don’t like it-”

“I would never hurt him, Mikey, never, I swear to God,” Frank whispered urgently. “We’re being careful. I promise.”

“I found out,” Mikey said in a dull tone.

“You live with us! And you’re his brother.”

Mikey gave him a blank look with a raised eyebrow that Frank translated as skepticism. “How long has this been going on?” he asked coolly.

Frank looked back down at his mug. “Since I was shot,” he mumbled. “He kissed me.”

Mikey’s expression softened briefly. “He kissed you?”

“I told him I loved him, and he kissed me,” Frank said. He felt his cheeks flushing and tried to hide behind his hair.

“Does he love you?” Mikey asked bluntly.

“He says so,” Frank replied. “I believe him.”

“Okay,” Mikey said. Frank heard him stand up and rinse out his mug in the sink. When he came around the table, he touched Frank’s shoulder. “Don’t fuck it up.”

Frank turned and looked up at Mikey’s face. He was almost smiling. Frank shook his head quickly and said, “I won’t.”

***

“Gee,” Frank said when Gerard appeared in the kitchen. It was thankfully empty but for them, and Frank leaned his hip against the counter and cornered Gerard by the coffeemaker. “Mikey talked to me this morning.”

Gerard nodded blearily, still in his before-coffee daze. “Everything okay?” he asked.

“He’s not going to tell anyone,” Frank said.

“I knew that.”

“He wants us to be careful.”

Gerard turned around, back to the coffeemaker, and rubbed his eyes. “We have to keep it secret, Frank.”

“I know,” Frank sighed. “I get it.”

“It’s not just us that would be affected, if word got out,” Gerard said calmly. “We’d lose so much.”

“I know.”

“Can we keep it secret?” Gerard asked. Frank broke eye contact. Gerard was really asking if Frank could keep it secret. If Frank could deal with that.

“Yeah, I can handle it,” Frank answered quietly.

“I don’t like it any more than you do, Frankie.”

“I understand.” He really did. He hated that they had to hide, but Gerard and Mikey were right, it would ruin their lives if people found out. “I don’t ever want to hurt you,” he added. “My whole job is to keep you safe. I understand.”

Gerard gave him a sad sort of smile and rubbed his eyes again.

Frank poked Gerard on the shoulder. “Drink your coffee, Gee.”

***

Frank ended up in his own bed, alone, for more nights than he liked in the next week. No matter what Gerard said, Frank had a feeling he was a little nervous about Mikey knowing about their relationship. And on top of that, Mikey was spending a lot of time out of the house, and Gerard was worried for his safety.

Frank could almost see Gerard working himself into a state of paranoia, and it was for that reason that he sent Gerard to bed, to sleep, around eight o’clock one night. Gerard protested, saying he had work to finish and he wanted to wait up until Mikey came home, but Frank dragged him into his bedroom, kissed him once, and told him very firmly to get some rest.

Frank, however, fully intended on staying up until Mikey showed up.

It was nearly midnight when he heard the key scratching in the door. Frank muted the television, grabbed his gun from the table beside him, and rested his cigarette carefully in the ashtray.

“Frank, you up? It’s me,” Tony called from around the corner. Frank put down his gun. “I’m going to bed. Mikey has news for you.”

Mikey appeared in the living room, a determined smile on his face. “Is Gee asleep?”

“He should be,” Frank replied warily.

Mikey nodded towards the small stream of smoke rising from the ashtray. “Got another cigarette?”

Mikey didn’t usually smoke, so Frank raised an eyebrow at him when he passed over his pack. “What’s going on?” He waited patiently while Mikey lit the cigarette and took two slow drags, blowing out the smoke towards the TV.

“I proposed to Alicia.” Frank raised his other eyebrow. “She said yes.”

“Are you kidding me?” Frank asked, his jaw dropping in surprise. “She said yes?”

“She said yes.”

“Holy shit. Wow. Congratulations.” He laughed. “Yeah, congratulations. Dude, you gotta tell Gerard.”

“I wanted to tell you first,” Mikey said quietly.

Frank turned to look at him closely. There was something off about Mikey’s tone.

“We want to go to Las Vegas and get married there.”

“Um…”

“Soon, Frank. Really soon.”

“Mikey…” Frank began slowly. “What about Gerard? The Family? A real wedding?”

“We don’t want any of that,” Mikey explained. “You know how Alicia feels about the Family. We just want to get married and get it over with, not make a big deal out of it. It’ll be safer for us to just go away, right?”

Shit, Frank thought. He said, “You have to tell Gerard.”

“I’m going to. Tomorrow. So don’t tell him, okay?”

“Yeah,” Frank said softly. He stubbed out his cigarette and handed Mikey the TV remote. “Congratulations.” He was planning on going to his own room, sleeping alone, but he continued down the hall and slipped into Gerard’s bedroom. He crawled carefully beneath the blankets without getting undressed, and in his sleep, Gerard shifted closer into his arms.

***

“I don’t care who you marry, Mikey,” Gerard spat. “I think those traditions are stupid, you know that.”

“So why are you so fucking against this?”

“Mikey, just chill for a minute,” Frank began, holding out a hand as if that would defuse the argument.

“Do you even realize all the shit that’s going on right now? Could you possibly pick a worse time?”

“We’re going out of town,” Mikey said stiffly. “We’ll be safer away from here anyway. We don’t care, alright? We’re going to get married no matter what you say.”

Gerard made a sound like a cross between a sigh and a groan. “Mikey… You can’t just run away. You have a responsi-”

“No, Gerard, you have a responsibility to this Family. I don’t want it. I don’t need it. Alicia doesn’t want any part of it.”

“Mikey-” Frank tried again.

“Shut up,” Mikey shot at him, then turned and said the same to Gerard. “Shut up, I don’t have to listen to this shit. I’m leaving, and I’m going to marry my fucking fiancée, and that’s the fucking end of it. Goodbye.” He stormed past Frank and out of the office, letting the door slam behind him. Gerard pounded his fist down on the desk, growling in frustration.

“Gee,” Frank began cautiously. “Just maybe give him time to cool-”

“He doesn’t get it,” Gerard interrupted. “He thinks this is all about him, but it’s not. There’s something to be said for traditions and Family weddings. It’s expected-”

“I know,” Frank said. “I understand. But Mikey’s never been very… active in the Family.”

“Are you saying I should let him go?”

“I’m saying… There’s bigger things to deal with right now,” Frank said gently. “Maybe it would be better if he was out of town for a while, y’know?”

“I don’t want him to get hurt…” Gerard agreed. “But weddings, Frank! It’s a big deal, and we’re a high-profile family. We have to keep up appearances. If he just disappears and comes back married, people will think it’s some kind of sordid, scandalous affair, and it’s not, I know it’s not.” Frank didn’t fully support Gerard’s ideas of traditional weddings, using Mikey like some kind of publicity stunt, but he understood why Gerard wanted-perhaps needed-to do so.

Gerard sighed and sat down on the couch, rubbing his forehead wearily. “Whatever,” he said. “No one has ever been able to control him.”

“Maybe that’s why,” Frank said, shrugging. “Maybe he’s just trying not to be controlled. Do you want me to talk to him?”

“Whatever. You’re right. I should let him go. Shit, Frankie, this is so fucking-” Gerard cut himself off and sighed again. He pushed his hair back from his face and looked away from Frank.

“So fucking what?” Frank asked after a moment. He kept his tone casual, his voice quiet, sensing that Gerard was uncomfortable.

“Overwhelming,” Gerard whispered. “Frank-”

“You don’t have to explain.”

“You understand,” Gerard said.

“Yeah, I think I do.” They were silent for a moment, Frank standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. “Do you want me to go talk to him?” he asked again, almost not wanting to interrupt the quiet, interrupt Gerard’s thoughts.

“Please stay.”

Frank sat down on the other side of the couch, sitting sideways with his feet up on the cushion, pressing against Gerard’s leg. Gerard’s hand drifted from his thigh to Frank’s foot and just rested there, warm and very still.

“Thanks.”

They stayed that way for a long time, and at some point Frank fell asleep. When he woke, he found himself lying on the couch with his feet stretched to the opposite end, his legs across Gerard’s lap. Gerard had propped a comic book against Frank’s knees and was flipping idly through it-Frank’s issue of Hellboy, actually, which Gerard must’ve found on the table beside the couch.

“Hi,” Gerard said, noticing Frank waking up.

“I fell asleep,” Frank replied, faintly shocked. He couldn’t pinpoint when he’d done so: one minute, he and Gerard were sitting together, and the next, he was waking up in Gerard’s lap. “Shit, sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Gerard said quickly. He waved the comic book at Frank. “I found this on the table, so that kept me occupied. It was… nice… just to sit quietly for a while, y’know? Not worry about people trying to kill me or whatever. Not worry about Mikey and Alicia. Just me and you, like we used to. Remember?”

Frank twisted his legs and pressed his ankle against Gerard’s thigh. “Yeah, of course.” Gerard put his hand on Frank’s leg, holding him there. It was comfortable, sitting with Gerard, normal, and Frank smiled at Gerard. “It’s nice,” he whispered.

***

Mikey, of course, disappeared the very next day.

Tony crashed into the office, his hair on end from where he’d undoubtedly been tugging on it, and said, “Mikey’s gone.”

“What?” Gerard shouted.

“I woke up, I’m sorry-He’s not here, I just woke up and he was gone-I didn’t think he’d-”

“Where did he go?” Gerard asked shrilly.

“Las Vegas,” Frank answered quietly. “He told me the other night that they wanted to get married in Vegas.”

“Goddammit, Mikey,” Gerard hissed, reaching for the phone.

“He’s not answering. I called him five times,” Tony said breathlessly. “Shit. I’m sorry, Gerard.”

Gerard waved off the apology and started dialing numbers the phone. “Go after him,” he said. “Go to the airport, Frank will call you and give you flight information. Catch up to Mikey and don’t let him out of your sight. Frank, find out where Mikey is right now while I get Tony a flight. ”

Tony nodded and disappeared. Frank grabbed a phone and dialed information for airport numbers. He wasn’t even sure if Mikey’d left from Newark, JFK, or La Guardia. “Shit,” he muttered.

“I do not fucking need this right now, you fucking bastard,” Gerard was saying, probably leaving Mikey a message. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”

Surprisingly, it only took Frank half an hour to track down Mikey’s flight information. Name-dropping and flattery will get you everywhere, he thought giddily. Mikey had left from JFK International at 8:20 in the morning, two one-way tickets in First Class on Delta Airlines direct to McCarran International in Las Vegas. They would be touching down at around 2pm Eastern Time, and, the woman on the phone happily informed Frank, they had reserved a car rental. Frank went ahead and took down the information she offered up about the car, and then had her book a last-minute seat on the very next flight out.

Tony was only an hour behind Mikey and Alicia, but Frank was sure he’d catch up to them. They didn’t know he was coming.

***

Tony called them right before his plane took off, and Frank relayed all the information he had about Mikey’s plans in Vegas. Tony promised to call again once he landed, and told Frank not to let Gerard worry too much. Nevada was far enough away from New Jersey that nobody should know who Mikey and Tony were.

“Yeah,” Frank agreed reluctantly, “but we’ve got contacts all over the country. Stands to reason that other people do too.”

“I’ll find ‘em,” Tony said. “They’ll be fine. I’ll talk to you when I get there.”

Frank wished him good luck and hung up. He looked over at Gerard, who was lying on his back on the couch Frank usually occupied.

“Tony says not to worry, that he’ll keep them safe.”

“Mikey’s a fucking idiot,” Gerard grumbled.

“Gee-”

“And it’s not just them I’m worried about.”

Frank slipped out of his chair and knelt on the floor by Gerard’s head. “What are you worried about, then?” he asked, head cocked to the side.

“Everything,” Gerard sighed. Frank reached for Gerard’s hand and laced their fingers together, squeezing gently to encourage Gerard to explain. “I still don’t know who’s trying to kill me, and we’re not getting any closer to finding that out, and until I do find out who it is, everyone has to be on high alert because we’re getting shot at if we so much as step outside the door.”

“Well-”

“It could happen,” Gerard insisted. “We had a traitor in our own house, Frankie. He tried to kill me and he nearly did kill you, and this was a guy we trusted.”

Frank sighed. “You don’t have any leads?”

“Not anything plausible. But…”

“But what?” Frank prompted.

Gerard turned his head and looked sadly up at Frank. “Even if we do find out who’s behind it all, there’s not much we can do about it. There’s nobody left to fight for us, Frank. If I went up against anyone… I’d lose.”

Frank squeezed Gerard’s hand again. “Concentrate on tracking them down, first,” he said quietly. “Then we’ll worry about how to take them down. I’ll kill them all myself if I have to.”

He leaned in and kissed Gerard’s forehead. It was more pressing his mouth and nose against Gerard’s skin and breathing him in, but it was close to a kiss.

“We’ll figure it out,” he whispered.

***

By that evening, Tony had tracked Mikey and Alicia to a hotel on the strip.

“He gave up their plans right away,” Tony told Frank. “They’re getting married tomorrow-Alicia’s already found a place she likes-and then sightseeing for a week or so for a honeymoon. They even invited me to the wedding.”

“It’s ‘cause now they know Gerard can’t do anything about it,” Frank said. “I’ll let Gerard know what they’re up to, but I already know what he’s going to say: stick to them like glue, stay safe, and have fun in Vegas but don’t blow all your money in the casinos.”

Tony laughed. “Fantastic. I get a vacation.”

“Yeah, dude, I’m jealous,” Frank teased.

“Hey, Frank? Don’t tell Gee this, but it’s incredibly awkward being the third wheel on Mikey’s honeymoon. Just so you know.”

“At least Alicia likes you, right?” Frank said hopefully. “Better you than me.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Tony sighed. “Okay, well, I’ve still got to con my way into their hotel, so I’d better go. Good luck, okay? Don’t get killed or anything.”

“Same to you.”

“Frankie. I kind of think you and Gerard are in more danger than me and Mikey,” Tony pointed out. “Just be careful, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be careful,” Frank replied. “Give Mikey and Alicia Gerard’s blessing.”

“Did he tell you to-”

“No. But he will, and I’d rather them hear it before they say the vows, y’know?”

“Thanks, Frank. I’ll tell them.”

***

“There’s a kid coming in today,” Gerard said off-handedly as he dialed a number on his phone. “I want you to wait outside for him, see what he’s like before he meets me.”

“What do you mean ‘kid’?” Frank asked. “Like, me-kid or twelve-year-old-kid?”

Gerard rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, Frank, he didn’t tell me his age. I’m guessing he’s somewhere between twelve and twenty-three, though.”

When the time came, Mark poked his head into the office and announced that the kid had arrived. Frank and Gerard were playing blackjack; Gerard was winning. He always won at blackjack, because Frank never knew when to stop drawing cards. He stood up and tossed his cards-a queen, a two, a four, and an eight-at Gerard, who was grinning. Gerard pushed all of the cards into his desk drawer.

“I’ll give you a few minutes before I call you in,” Gerard told him as Frank neared the door. “He sounded nervous on the phone, don’t freak him out more.”

Frank found the kid in the living room, holding his coat in a bundle on his lap. Mark sat across from him with his laptop, ignoring him. The kid flinched when Frank sat down next to him.

“Hey, I’m Frank. It’ll be just a couple minutes. What’s your name?”

“Gino,” he replied quickly. Gino really was a kid, not more than sixteen or seventeen, with puffy pink cheeks and a mop of dusty blond hair atop his head.

“What are you here for?” Frank asked casually. Gino shifted his jacket in his lap, seeming to curl in on himself a little bit. Frank leaned away, taking pity on the poor kid. “Dude,” he said, “don’t be scared-”

“I’m not scared,” Gino broke in vehemently. Frank caught Mark hiding a smirk.

“I mean, don’t be nervous,” Frank continued, unfazed. “Whatever it is, he’ll probably help you out. Gerard Way likes to help people out.”

“Frank!” Gerard called from the office.

Giving Gino a hopefully encouraging smile, Frank pushed himself to his feet and nodded towards the hallway. Gino slowly stood up and followed him. Once inside Gerard’s office, Frank took up his usual position on the couch, gesturing for Gino to sit in the chair across from Gerard. Gerard stood up, leaned over his desk, and offered his hand. “Gino, we finally meet,” he said. “I’m Gerard Way, and I think you’ve met my associate, Frank Iero.” He shot Frank a glance; Frank shrugged his shoulders minutely. “What can I help you with, Gino?”

As Gerard sat down again, there was a flurry of movement in Gino’s lap. From inside the bundle of his coat, he withdrew a gun and raised it toward Gerard. Frank didn’t even think, he just reacted: he was out of his seat in a flash, already reaching for his own pistol. He twisted Gino’s arms behind his back, squeezing until Gino dropped the shiny revolver, then held him in a headlock with the muzzle of his gun pressed against Gino’s flushed cheek.

“What the fuck,” he hissed into Gino’s ear. “What the fuck are you thinking?”

Gerard had risen to his feet again, his hands white-knuckle-tight around the lip of the desk, and was staring venomously at Gino, who squirmed in Frank’s hold. “I do not appreciate having guns drawn on me, Gino,” he said stonily. “Especially not in my own home. Sit him down, Frank.”

Frank pushed the kid back into his chair and kept his hand firmly on his shoulder. He rested his gun against the crown of Gino’s head. Gerard walked slowly around the desk and came to tower over the boy. Frank’s eyes flicked back and forth between Gino’s shaking hands on the armrests and Gerard’s cold gaze.

“Who told you to do this, Gino?” Gerard asked calmly.

“Answer him, kid, who the fuck sent you?” Frank repeated when Gino remained silent.

Gerard ignored Frank and hunkered down so he was eye-level with the kid. “Who told you to kill me, Gino? Tell me.”

Gino still didn’t reply, and when Gerard said again to answer, Frank squeezed Gino’s shoulder as hard as he could. Gino cried out and Frank cocked his gun.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please, they said you wouldn’t kill me, please, please, Mr. Way, sir, please don’t kill me, please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Gino burst out tearfully.

Gerard picked up Gino’s heavy revolver and stood up, nodding to Frank.

“Gerard-” Frank began disbelievingly. Gerard glared at him. Frank flicked the safety back on, but he kept his hand on Gino’s shoulder and his gun at the ready. His heart was racing; he would not be caught unaware again, not like this.

Gerard leaned his ass against the desk and crossed his arms, a familiar pose to Frank, but it was different here. Gerard was using it for intimidation. “Who told you to kill me?” he asked.

“My, my uncle,” Gino stuttered. “They said you wouldn’t kill me, please-”

Frank tightened his grip again. Gerard narrowed his eyes and asked, “What’s your uncle’s name, Gino?”

“Bernardo Luciano,” Gino replied sadly. He looked down at his lap. “I don’t know anything, they just told me to-to-and they said you wouldn’t hurt me if things went wrong, I’m really sorry, I’m so sorry-”

“Shut up,” Frank spat. “Gee-”

“Let him go. Tell Mark to escort him out, and let him go.”

“Gerard-” Frank dug his nails into Gino’s pale skin. He was just a kid, sure, but they needed to teach somebody a motherfucking lesson.

“Do not argue with me,” Gerard growled. “Go.”

Frank and Mark both saw Gino out, with Mark posted at the door to keep watch. Frank returned to the office to find Gerard slouching in Gino’s vacated chair, turning the revolver over in his hands. He was starting at it; the polished metal caught the light and flashed brilliantly at Frank.

“This could’ve killed me today,” Gerard said softly. “At the hands of a fucking kid, this could’ve killed me.”

Frank froze in the doorway. The adrenaline rush was fading and all he could feel was horror. Gerard was right. That fucking kid very nearly killed Gerard. “I’m sorry,” Frank began breathlessly. “I should’ve-I should’ve seen or frisked him or-”

Gerard half-turned, his brow wrinkled. “No, Frank, I didn’t mean-” He sighed. “Sit down, Frankie.” Frank did, slowly. “I wasn’t blaming you,” Gerard whispered earnestly. “I just-”

Frank couldn’t sit still. He slid out of his chair to his knees and lifted the gun from Gerard’s lap. He put his chin on Gerard’s knee and held tight to both of Gerard’s hands. “I don’t want that to ever happen again,” he whispered. “I was...” scared “worried.”

Gerard petted Frank’s hair. They both took a few deep breaths.

“We should’ve sent a message-” Frank began.

“No,” Gerard interrupted, ignoring Frank’s pout. “You’re angry at him for what he tried to do, but he didn’t really know what he was doing. His uncle sent him because he knew we wouldn’t hurt kids, that’s all there is to it.” Frank opened his mouth to argue, but Gerard slid his hand down to grasp Frank’s jaw and he continued in a whisper, “I know you wanted to hurt him, Frankie, but he’s only a kid. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you had.”

Frank licked his lips and admitted defeat. A beat later, he said bitterly, “I want to fucking kill that uncle, though.”

Gerard ran his thumb thoughtfully over Frank’s lips. Frank tried to ignore the shiver it sent down his spine. “You probably will,” Gerard replied sadly.

***

The very next day, Gerard had a plan. It was a pretty simple plan, but it needed finesse to be carried out. Gerard wanted to hit all the main guys at once, take out the opposition in one big strike. Their only problem was finding resources to do it.

Tom, Gerard’s tall, gangly spy, made an appearance and he and Gerard secluded themselves in Gerard’s office for over an hour, talking and plotting. Frank paced outside the door.

“You think we can do this?” he asked Mark for the fifth time.

“Yeah, Frank,” Mark replied wearily. “Gerard’ll think of something.”

“He’s already thought of something, though. Now we need… I don’t know, we need a lot. We need some fucking luck. A goddamn miracle.”

“Frank, sit down before you hurt yourself,” Mark said.

Frank sat down. Tom opened the door, and Frank popped right back up. “Gee?” he asked. Gerard waved him in.

“What did he say?”

“This Luciano guy is the one,” Gerard answered. “We’re sure of it, this time. He’s not connected to our Family, but apparently he was a major player in one of the Families in New York. Somehow he gathered a following with us and decided he could run things better than I can. And apparently several of our guys agreed.”

“You’re doing pretty well, I think,” Frank said.

“We’re going to kill them, Frank,” Gerard said firmly. “We’re going to find people to help us, and we’re going to kill them, all at once so they don’t have time to react. This’ll work.”

“Yeah, okay, but where do we find these people to help us?” He paced in front of Gerard’s desk until Gerard took him by the elbow and sat him down in one of the armchairs. “We barely have anybody left.”

“You, me, and Chris are going after Luciano. We’ve got Mark, Worm, Pete-”

“Pete’s a fucking chauffer!”

“He’s gonna be backup,” Gerard replied simply.

“Oh God, Gee, we’re grasping at straws.”

“Your friend Cortez,” Gerard said. “Brian Schechter and his friends. Gabe has a lot of people in his pocket. This will work, Frank.”

Frank nodded. “I don’t want you there.”

“I’m going to kill this guy, Frank.”

“I don’t want you there,” Frank said again.

“You don’t tell me what to do,” Gerard said calmly.

“Gee, please, think of what happened last time-”

“Last time, you got shot.”

“No, that was back at home,” Frank said quickly. “No, last time you got beat up, Gerard.”

“Frank-”

“Please, Gee, I don’t want you there. It’s dangerous.”

“I’m going, and that’s final,” Gerard said stiffly. “Now, go fill Mark in while I start calling people.”

“Gerard…”

Gerard glared at him. “Don’t argue with me on this, Frank.”

Frank nodded meekly. “Do you have a list?” he asked.

Gerard pulled a piece of paper off his desk and handed it to Frank. “Read it, Frankie,” he said, his expression inscrutable. Frank took the paper and went to the door before glancing down.

The third name on the list: Frank Iero (Sr.)

Frank’s head shot up. “Gee-”

“Call him, Frank,” Gerard murmured.

Frank let the list fall to the floor and ran up to his bedroom.

***

“Frank.”

“Dad, listen to me.” Frank took a breath. “Get out of town. Don’t come back, don’t mess with us anymore-”

“I will do whatever I fucking want, kid-”

“No, Dad, shut the fuck up. We know you’re involved. Get the fuck out of town before you get killed,” Frank said angrily.

“You can’t do anything about this, Frankie, stop pretending like you know what the hell’s going on. I want you to hang up this phone and come straight to-”

“No!” Frank shouted. “You don’t fucking understand, okay? I’m trying to save your miserable fucking life. Do you know what I’ve been doing lately? Do you, Dad?”

“Frank-”

“I’ve been out murdering your fucking friends,” he hissed, seething with anger. “You underestimate Gerard. You have no fucking clue how pissed off and fucking ruthless he is. He will kill you.”

“He would nev-”

“If he asked, I would do it.”

Franco remained silent, apparently shocked into speechlessness. About fucking time. Maybe now he would listen.

“I don’t want to do it,” Frank murmured. “But I would, because you raised me to be loyal, and I am. Just not to you.”

“Frankie-”

“Get out of New Jersey and don’t come back. Don’t fuck with Gerard and you might get out of here alive.”

“You’ll never see me again,” Franco warned.

“I’ll never see you again if you’re fucking dead,” Frank spat in reply.

“You wouldn’t kill me, Frankie.”

Frank paused to think, to really think about whether he would. Whether he could put a gun to his father’s head and pull the trigger. He thought back to what Franco and the others had planned, back to taking a bullet meant for Gerard. Everyone telling him over and over and fucking over again to be loyal to the Family, never betray the Family, not ever.

“You would’ve had me killed,” Frank whispered. He’d been shot at and punched and cut open more times than he could count, and his own father had been pulling the strings. “You would have killed me,” he said again. “Your own son.” There were tears threatening to spill over his cheeks and he blinked rapidly to hold them back.

“Frankie, son, listen-”

“I would do it,” Frank interrupted. He pictured Gerard’s desperation and fear. The exhausting paranoia that held them both captive. He would do it for Gerard. “I would kill you if he asked.”

“Frank, wait-”

“Get the fuck out of Jersey. I won’t warn you again.”

Frank hung up the phone, fully aware that it might be the last time he ever spoke to his father. He was on the verge of tears and he couldn’t even bring himself to be embarrassed about them. He would do whatever Gerard ordered him to do, no matter how much he didn’t want to. No matter how justified his feelings may be. Frank couldn’t swallow around the lump in his throat and he began to sob. He was a mess, his whole face wet, his lips pulled into a painful grimace, his lungs unable to hold in the air he tried to breathe.

“Oh god,” he gasped.

Gerard was there when he looked up, taking Frank’s face in his hands calmly and tilting his head up. His palms were warm and dry against Frank’s cheeks and Frank pressed forward into Gerard’s hands, welcoming the comfort. He didn’t care what it might cost him. Gerard brushed his thumbs firmly over both of Frank’s cheeks, wiping away the tears until they fell again. Gerard merely repeated the motion.

He bent down and kissed Frank’s forehead, lips as firm and comforting as his hands. He moved away and looked Frank in the eye. “I would never do that to you,” he said slowly.

“I would do it,” Frank cried.

“I know you would,” Gerard replied calmly. “But I wouldn’t order it. I wouldn’t ask you to. I won’t ask.”

“I just love you so much-”

“I know, Frankie, I know,” Gerard murmured. He leaned in close, his voice and his breath soothing and desperately needed. He kissed Frank gently on the lips. “It’ll be okay now, Frankie, I promise.”

Frank leaned away and Gerard took the hint and dropped his hands, staring at Frank with an expression that was neither encouraging nor sympathetic, but somehow still comforting. Frank furiously wiped his face with his fists and sniffled loudly twice, and then he had himself partially under control. There were still tears leaking out of his eyes, but he scrubbed them off his face as soon as they appeared.

“I’m okay, I’m okay now,” he said, and his voice sounded rough even to his own ears, but it was the best he could do. “I’m okay.”

Gerard smiled. “Okay,” he whispered. Frank nodded at him. Gerard dragged his fingers through the hair by Frank’s ear, where it curled over and stuck to his damp cheek, and then left. Once the door closed, Frank sighed shakily and curled up on the bed. He was no longer crying, but he felt sick and wrung-out, and he still couldn’t quite control his breathing.

It would be okay. He trusted Gerard.

***

Gerard was worried the plan would get out somehow, so he set it into action two days later. People in the Family and friends Frank had known in high school assembled in the dining room, the biggest room in the house, and waited for instructions. Gerard stood at the head of the table.

Frank waited behind him. He felt like a zombie. He hadn’t slept much, and he hadn’t spoken to his father. Today was the day; either Brian Schechter would find his dad and kill him, or Brian would go into an empty house and they would never see his dad again. Frank didn’t know. He didn’t want to think about it.

Gerard handed out assignments, paired people up, and let them loose. When the room had cleared, he looked at Chris, then at Frank, and said, “Let’s get this done.”

***

They didn’t care about subtlety this time. Chris parked the car on the front lawn and led the way to the house. Luciano wasn’t expecting them; Luciano didn’t even know them. Chris broke down the door and went inside, followed by Gerard and Frank, walking side by side.

Frank had a flashback of Bertini’s house, of Bertini knocking Gerard out, and he grabbed Gerard’s hand.

“It’s okay,” Gerard whispered. Frank swallowed and let go.

Chris continued to lead them through the house as if he knew the layout. He pounded on doors until they opened for him, and they finally found Luciano and two other guys in the study at the back of the house. Frank and Chris drew their guns and blocked the door, Gerard behind them.

“Who the fuck are you?” Luciano asked sharply.

“We’re the guys who’re gonna kill you,” Frank replied easily. Chris shot one of the other men in the head and he fell sideways out of his chair. Luciano and the other man looked suitably terrified. Frank stepped aside to let Gerard through.

“Do you know who I am?” Gerard asked, his voice calm but his back stiff with tension.

Luciano leaned back in his chair, relaxing slightly. Frank wasn’t sure why; maybe he knew he was about to die and didn’t want to end his life in fear. “Gerard Way,” Luciano answered.

Gerard nodded, smiling, and said, “You son of a bitch.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Frank saw the second man reach for something in his pocket, maybe a gun. Frank whirled around and grabbed the guy by his hair, yanked his head back, and pushed his gun up beneath the guy’s chin.

“What are you doing?” Frank asked innocently. The man’s eyes were wide and frightened and he was trembling in Frank’s grasp. Frank pushed him away and pressed the muzzle of his gun to the back of the man’s head, and he pulled the trigger without waiting for the order.

Luciano was alone, now. He regarded Frank with a detached sort of calm, the same kind of calm that took Gerard over whenever someone aimed a gun at him. Frank licked his lips and twirled the gun in his hand casually.

“Chris, check the house,” Gerard commanded without breaking eye contact with Luciano. Frank nodded at Chris; they had this under control. This guy wasn’t Bertini; he wasn’t used to doing things himself. Frank could deal with him. Chris disappeared, leaving the door open.

“Show him what we do to our enemies, Frankie,” Gerard said.

Frank twirled the gun around his finger again, showing off and reveling in the way Luciano’s eyes widened, and fired two shots into Luciano’s stomach. Not enough to kill him immediately-he had a feeling Gerard wanted to have a little chat before Luciano died-but certainly enough to hurt like fuck. Luciano screamed and hunched over, hands pressing hard into the wounds.

“Get on your knees, you bastard,” Gerard hissed. He kicked at Luciano’s leg. “Frank?”

Frank went around behind Luciano’s chair and pushed him out, so he stumbled to the floor, on his knees and staring up at Gerard. Frank circled back around to stand next to Gerard, gun still at the ready.

Gerard slid his hand down Frank’s arm from his elbow to his hand and gently took the gun from his loose grasp. With his other hand, Gerard turned Frank’s face towards him and kissed the corner of his mouth. Frank was surprised, but he didn’t let it show, not to this guy.

Gerard stepped forward, still smiling, and aimed the gun at Luciano’s forehead.

“Nobody fucks with me or my Family.”

He pulled the trigger, dropped the gun in the puddle of blood, and reached for Frank’s hand to lead him from the room. Chris was waiting in the hallway, and he looked them up and down for any visible injuries.

“We’re done here,” Gerard said. He squeezed Frank’s hand and let go, and strode purposefully towards the front door, Frank and Chris trailing after him.

***

The evening was full of people checking in by phone and dropping by to debrief. Everything, surprisingly, had gone according to plan, and Frank was relieved to hear that Brian had found Franco’s house empty, drawers and cabinets opened as if he’d left in a hurry.

By the end of the night, Frank was exhausted. It was a different sort of tiredness than he was used to; instead of the aching muscles and throbbing bruises, Frank just felt dead to the world. It was partially from lack of sleep, he knew, but as he crawled into bed beside Gerard, he thought that it was probably also due to being on high alert for so long with no rest.

Frank flopped down on his stomach. Gerard, on his back, turned to face him and smiled. “It’s over,” he said, and as if he was reading Frank’s mind, “We can finally rest. Relax. Sleep at night.”

“I miss sleep,” Frank replied, grinning. He reached over to Gerard and took his hand. “It’s finally over.”

“It’s finally over,” Gerard parroted. “I can finally do what I was meant to do.”

“And what is that?”

“Lead this Family.” Gerard’s smile softened as he added, “With you at my side.”

Frank squeezed Gerard’s hand and buried his face in his pillow. “You’re such a sap,” he mumbled.

“Yeah,” Gerard agreed. He rolled onto his side and stretched his arm over Frank’s back in a half-hug. Two fingers played with the hem of Frank’s t-shirt. “But you love it.”

“Yeah, well… Yeah,” Frank replied giddily. He peeked out at Gerard.

Gerard raised both eyebrows. “It’s finally over,” he said again. “It’s really over, Frankie.”

He grinned and Frank just had to scoot over and press his lips to Gerard’s, to feel his happiness, to celebrate. Gerard slipped his hand under Frank’s shirt, his palm smooth against Frank’s side. “Fucking finally,” Frank sighed.

***

[ part 6]