Fic: Thing-Thing (2/5)
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - master post
---
"So," Mikey says, when he gets back from letting Frank out.
"Frank and I made out," Gerard blurts.
Mikey stops with his hand on the doorknob. "What," he says, but Gerard knows that Mikey heard him.
Gerard maybe should have waited for Mikey to say something, or ask a question, or do something other than open the door, but Gerard has a really hard time keeping secrets from Mikey. It may mean that Gerard is a loser, but Mikey is Gerard's best friend in the whole world. Gerard doesn't like trying to think stuff through without Mikey. It gets too confusing without Mikey there to roll his eyes.
"Did he kiss you?" Mikey says, finally. Gerard nods. "I told him not to," Mikey says despairingly, and goes to sit on his own bed.
"You guys talked about this?" Gerard squeaks. "Mikey, what."
"He said he wanted to," Mikey says, "Kiss you. And I told him that was a bad idea."
"Oh," Gerard says. It's kind of cool that Frank wanted to kiss him, but. "You could have brought up that he's too young to be kissing seniors," Gerard points out.
Mikey flaps his hand at that, like Gerard's very significant concerns are pointless. "Frank makes out with seniors all the time," he says, and oh, maybe Gerard's very significant concerns are pointless. Or common. Or pointlessly common.
"Frank makes out with seniors all the time?" Gerard says.
Mikey shrugs. "That's kind of the thing," he says. Mikey is turning red. Gerard can feel his own face heating up, too. This is horrible. "Frank is kind of working his way through, like, the entire upper school."
Gerard blinks.
Gerard blinks again.
Gerard was the one who wanted to go to Fordhaven School for Boys. He was the one who argued with his mom, and took himself in for the IQ tests and the writing exams. He's the one who convinced the head to give him a scholarship. He's the one who dealt with the guilt of having his mom pay for what the scholarship didn't cover.
Still, when Gerard did it, he did it knowing that he wasn't going to get laid at all before he went to college. When he signed the paperwork, he knew was guaranteeing his virginity until at least eighteen. Gerard might have had a chance to bone a dude at public school -- lots of weirdos go there, it's not unheard of -- but not at Fordhaven. He knew this going in, and he's never questioned it, not once.
"The entire upper school," Gerard repeats.
Mikey looks miserable. "It's this thing Frank has. Like, he thinks everyone is inherently bisexual, and that homophobia is a cover for being, whatever, curious." Gerard nods at this, automatically, and Mikey adds, "And Frank thinks it's funny, that he's made out with them. Like, when they're mean to him, he thinks about what bad kissers they are."
"But they shove him around," Gerard says. He's flabbergasted. His brain is actually not processing information. "Holy-- that's fucking insane."
Mikey shrugs again. "That's Frank, you know?"
Gerard sits, stunned. His cigarette is burning down to the filter, and he stubs it out in the ashtray on his desk absentmindedly.
This is-- it's just fucking insane, it really is. Frank is attempting to make out with everyone in the entire upper school. There are four classes, ninth through twelfth. Four classes of guys who have called Gerard "faggot," and who have acted like they're straighter than straight.
There are maybe thirty or forty guys in each class, too, which means that Frank is. Kind of a slut, actually. Which reminds Gerard of his brother, which makes him remember that Mikey said everyone in the school.
"Did you kiss him?" Gerard asks. Mikey nods. "Okay, that is massively weird," Gerard says.
"I didn't do anything else with him," Mikey says, and rolls his eyes. It's comforting when he does it; it's like things are normal instead of totally fucking crazy. "He just wanted me for his total, you know? It was, like, two seconds long."
"Oh god," Gerard says, just as a general statement about this brand new world he's been thrown into. "Wait, what about Ray?"
Mikey shakes his head, but he looks squirrelly, which means-- "Matt?" Gerard says, shocked.
Mikey starts to giggle. He nods. "At a party," he says. "It was actually kind of hot."
Gerard just stares at him. Mikey giggles a little harder, and Gerard goes, "Oh my god." They start to laugh, snorting and honking together. "Oh my god!" Gerard repeats, and Mikey puts his hands over his eyes and nods helplessly. "I-- oh my GOD!"
They take forever to calm down. Gerard is never going to be able to look at Matt in the eye again.
When they've both finally stopped laughing, Gerard is stretched out face first on his bed, and Mikey is sprawled out on the floor. "Fucking Matt," Gerard says, in wonder. He didn't think Matt had it in him; Matt really is the straightest straight guy that ever straighted. Matt looks at porn magazines during art class. Matt calls his porn magazines "girly mags."
"I know, right?" Mikey says. He pushes himself up and leans on his elbows. "There's another one, I mean. I think maybe you would want to know?" He doesn't sound so sure about it.
"Okay," Gerard says.
"He got Kyle to blow him at that party I went to at Sun's," Mikey says.
Gerard stops breathing for a second. That's really the only thing that marks the event of his heart fucking breaking. "Oh," he says, and inhales. "What, two weeks ago?" he asks. Mikey nods. Gerard blows out a breath.
Gerard had a crush on Kyle sophomore year. It was stupid. Gerard's pretty sure he didn't actually like Kyle, not really. Gerard was just realizing that no, he wasn't going to magically start liking girls, and Kyle was hot and in all of Gerard's classes.
Gerard did actually write a couple of stupid entries in his Social Sciences journal about self-revelation, and what it would take for a person to recognize a hidden part of their identity. One of the entries had even mentioned his feelings about someone unnamed in their class. It was a school notebook, and anyone could have found it; it had felt pretty daring at the time.
Apparently Frank is better at being daring, though.
"Huh," Gerard says. His stomach kind of hurts, but he just waves his hand at Mikey. "You know I got over Kyle in junior year," he says, and Mikey nods. It was a long, drawn-out process, during which Gerard finally convinced himself that he was being pathetic.
Gerard feels pretty pathetic right now. His chest hurts.
Gerard presses his face against his covers and takes a deep breath in, then lets it out. His covers are kind of smelly, but it's reassuring. He turns his face to the side again and looks at his brother. "I guess Frank didn't mean anything by kissing me, then," he says.
"Probably not," Mikey says. He looks down at his shoes, then over at Gerard. He looks pretty sorry. Gerard feels a big rush of stupid affection for his brother. "That's why I told him not to do it," Mikey adds.
"It's not like I took him that seriously," Gerard says lightly, but he and Mikey both know that he's lying. They sit in painful silence for a minute. Gerard picks at his cuticles.
Finally, Gerard shrugs. "Life sucks, school sucks, get over it," he says, quoting their mother. It startles Mikey into smiling. "Fucking Matt, man, my mind is totally blown," Gerard adds, and they both laugh more comfortably.
"Fucking Frank," Mikey says, and flops back down on the floor.
"Seriously, man, that kid," Gerard tells Mikey. "You want a cigarette?"
"Yeah," Mikey says, and Gerard lights one for him.
---
"We've decided to decharter the lacrosse, soccer, and basketball teams," the Head of Fordhaven says. "These teams only cultivate overblown masculinity and petty displays of violence. Instead, we will build a brand new art wing for the school, and double Mr. Fackenthal's salary." Mr. Fackenthal's mustache makes a deep curve at this, and his cheeks completely hide his eyes. The entire school applauds. The Head waits for them to quiet, and adds, "Furthermore, we have decided to change the name of our Junior/Senior Prom to the Diversity Dance, where everyone is welcome to be themselves!"
Everyone breaks into riotous cheers. The Head smiles benevolently.
When everyone is filing back out of the auditorium, Gerard is surrounded by a group of guys who want to talk to him. They're having an awesome conversation when Frank comes up to Gerard and says, "Hey."
"Guys, can I catch up with you later?" Gerard says, and everyone moves off, chattering excitedly about the Diversity Dance. "What's up?" Gerard asks.
"I heard that Mikey told you about my experiment," Frank mumbles.
"The effort to prove that we're all inherently bisexual," Gerard says. He nods sagely. "It's a worthwhile effort, but I don't know that I would have chosen your method. It's hardly scientific."
Frank smiles at Gerard's wit, even though he's visibly nervous. "You're right," he says.
"But that's not why you wanted to talk to me, is it?" Gerard says. "If you need something--"
"I just wanted you to know that I gave all that up. I'm-- I'm hoping that maybe you'll be my date to the Diversity Dance," Frank says. He looks hopeful.
"I don't think so," Gerard says. "Kyle already asked me--" Gerard stops. The scene resets.
"I just wanted you to know that I gave all that up. I'm-- I'm hoping that maybe you'll be my date to the Diversity Dance," Frank says. He looks hopeful.
"Yes," Gerard says magnanimously. "But you must promise that you'll find me wildly attractive in spite of my lack of experience--" He stops.
Gerard opens his eyes. He considers the ceiling of his bedroom, frowning. He closes his eyes again. The scene resets.
"Yes," Gerard says magnanimously. And at that, Frank leans up and cautiously--
No. Frank wouldn't be cautious, he wasn't cautious when he kissed Gerard before. Frank's kissed enough people, after all, he doesn't have to worry about whether or not he'll do it right.
Gerard sighs heavily. He opens his eyes again and sits up.
There's the soft whirr of the ceiling fan and the sound of Mikey's breath to keep the room from being perfectly silent, but Gerard's movements getting out of bed are still too loud. When he stands up, Gerard barks his shin against the table next to his bed. He curses automatically, then freezes in place. Mikey doesn't even turn over. Gerard moves again, cautiously toeing through the mess on their floor.
The bathroom is even quieter than the bedroom. Gerard's piss is loud when it hits the water. When he flushes, it fills the bathroom with sound.
Gerard flips the toilet lid down and sits. He puts his elbows on his knees and his chin on the heels of his hands.
Gerard can't stop thinking about Frank, what Frank's done, who he's kissed and sucked and touched. Gerard's not really that upset about it. Not exactly. Turned on, maybe, from the thought of Kyle on his knees in front of Frank. Frank's dick is probably normal-sized, Gerard thinks. Maybe smaller than Gerard's, because he's so short and so young. Kyle is kind of tall; he must have had to fold himself down really small in order to get himself to the right level. Gerard wonders where they did it, if it was in the bathroom or in a bedroom. He wonders what Frank's face looks like when he's getting his dick sucked, if it's anything like what he looks like when he's kissing.
Gerard shifts one of his hands from supporting his chin to squeeze his dick absentmindedly, half indulging the twitch it gives, half warning it not to get hard. Doing that has never really worked before, when he's tried at school, but he's tired enough now that it seems to do the trick.
Gerard sighs again and sits back against the toilet tank. It's all Frank's stupid fucking fault, anyway. Gerard had assumed that he would never get laid at Fordhaven. And it's still true, at least for Gerard. Frank can get laid; Gerard can't. Frank's example makes Gerard think that he ought to be able to get laid, though, that Gerard ought to be pretty enough and suave enough to get someone like Kyle to suck his dick.
He isn't, though. Gerard just has to remember that.
Gerard sighs heavily and leans his head back against the wall. He closes his eyes and thinks of Mr. Fackenthal, how he would say, “The winner of the two-dimensional art prize for this year is Mr. Gerard Way!”
---
"Are you sleeping on the fucking toilet?" Mikey asks, and Gerard jerks awake. His neck twinges, and he yelps and falls off the toilet. He checks his hip off of the bathtub and his head off of the toilet tank. He just lies where he fell on the tile, groaning.
"Fuck you," Gerard finally gets out.
"Get out of the fucking bathroom before I pee on your fucking head," Mikey says.
"I hope you fall down and fucking die," Gerard says, and drags himself up and goes to make coffee.
When Mikey stumbles upstairs, the pot has just finished brewing. Gerard hands him his cup, already perfectly made. Mikey snarls at him, and Gerard snarls back. "Fucking fuck off, asshole," Gerard says.
"Eat fucking dick, you fucking jerk," Mikey says. Gerard kicks Mikey in the knee, and then they both sit down at the kitchen counter to drink their coffee.
Their mom gets up about fifteen minutes later. They can hear her bustling around, getting ready for work. They both get up from the counter when they hear her finish with her make-up, escaping with their second cups of coffee before she can get down into the kitchen. Their feet thump in chorus on the stairs back down to the basement. "Fucking mom," Mikey says, and Gerard grunts his agreement.
By the bottom of his second mug of coffee, Gerard is able to register something other than morning and fucking fuck the fucking goddamn son of a bitch bastards. He grimaces at Mikey, who grimaces back.
"I need more fucking coffee," Mikey says.
Gerard slurps down the sugary sludge at the bottom of his cup. "We're getting more," he says, after he's swallowed the dregs.
There's a coffee place in between school and home, which is pretty much the only reason why Gerard goes to school every day. Well, that, and Mikey usually is going, which convinces Gerard to go. Gerard's attendance record was a lot worse before Mikey started his freshman year.
They bury their faces in their coffee cups on the way over, Gerard occasionally turning his face away from the rim of the cup to smoke his morning cigarette. By the time they get there, Gerard is feeling almost-human, and Mikey has stopped prefacing every noun with "fucking." That still isn't great, but at least by this point they can both keep from telling their teachers to suck dick and die.
"I hate school," Mikey grunts. Gerard heaves open the front door of the school for Mikey, then follows him through.
Frank's standing in the front hall. He's doing something with the strap of his bag, fixing it or something, and he doesn't see them right away. Gerard stops in his tracks. "I gotta go," he says, and turns back around.
Mikey sighs heavily, but he doesn't stop Gerard from leaving.
Gerard smokes another cigarette on the front steps. He's five minutes late to homeroom, but at least he doesn't have to have to talk to Frank just yet.
---
Frank comes down to eat lunch with Mikey, because God hates Gerard and wants him to be unhappy. Gerard thought about eating lunch somewhere else, of course, but the only other place he can eat in peace is outside, and it's too cold to do that.
Gerard stationed himself on the side of the table that’s facing the door, so he could see them coming. When he sees them coming down the hall, he pretends to be really engrossed in his conversation with Ray, so that they’re busy talking about something when Frank and Mikey come in. Gerard looks at Frank, though -- of course he does, he can't not -- and when Frank catches Gerard's eye he grins and ducks his head. It's like Frank knows a secret about Gerard; a good secret, one that turns Frank's cheeks pink and makes him bite his lip in the middle of his smile. Gerard's stomach twists, and he concentrates on his conversation with Ray twice as hard. His life sucks.
During lunch, Frank keeps getting into Gerard's space. While they're eating, he leans over Gerard to poke Ray, or folds himself over the edge of the table to look at Matt's pudding. Gerard doesn't mean to look, doesn't even want to torture himself, but Frank is there. Bending. Gerard would challenge a nun not to look.
When they start the campaign up, it's even worse. Frank doesn't know what he's doing, and he keeps asking Gerard for help. That's to be expected, sure, but Gerard's pretty sure Frank must know some of this stuff. How can you go your whole life without understanding what die to roll to battle a ghoul? For fuck’s sake, seriously.
"Wait," Frank says. Gerard fails to repress a sigh. "Shut up, asswipe," Frank snipes.
"What is it this time?" Gerard asks.
Frank slides his character sheet in front of Gerard and leans over it. "This," he says, and puts his finger underneath something on his sheet. The only way Gerard can look at the sheet too is if he presses his chest against Frank's shoulder. Gerard tries to hold himself stiffly, but Frank is warm and soft.
"Can I use this on the ghoul?" Frank asks, and glances back over his shoulder, even though Gerard is right there. Frank meets Gerard's eyes, drops his eyes down to Gerard's mouth, and bites his lip again. He's going to need chapstick later, Gerard thinks, and doesn't imagine Frank applying it at all.
"You guys need a moment?" Matt asks. Gerard startles back, away from Frank. Frank looks across the table at Matt, and Matt puts up his hands. "Whoa there, just wondering," he says.
"We're good," Gerard says. "No, Frank, you can't use a tiara on a ghoul."
"Fuck," Frank says, and giggles.
"How did that get on your sheet?" Gerard asks suspiciously, but Frank just giggles again.
Frank doesn't slide his sheet away, and he spends the rest of the lunch period leaning sideways, into Gerard's space. Frank's sides are pudgy under his uniform shirt. They look really soft, and Frank is radiating warmth. Gerard wants to dig his fingers into Frank's love handles and rub himself off against Frank's ass. Gerard is a dirty old man, and Frank is a sex fiend, and life is seriously fucking unfair.
---
Gerard has gym after lunch. Ray and Matt have something else, something more fun, so Gerard has to walk the mile by himself, steadfastly ignoring the jeers and nasty looks from his classmates. He fucking hates gym.
While he walks, Gerard thinks about being slender. He'd have long dark hair, and he'd wear a black velvet suit. He would have a cane, too, a really badass cane that's also a sword, but not like the chintzy ones they sell at the mall. Gerard imagines himself tapping his sword-cane against the cobblestones as he walks down a street. With a guilty twist in his stomach, Gerard thinks about Frank the street urchin, selling papers. Frank would look with dark eyes at Gerard's body as Gerard tap, tap, taps away down the street, Gerard thinks.
"Wide loads take the outside," James says, and slams his shoulder against Gerard's as he runs past. Gerard stumbles into another kid, who grumbles and shoves his shoulder. Gerard weaves between two other runners and gets into the outside lane.
One day he would stop to talk to urchin Frank about the news, Gerard thinks, and Frank would smile at Gerard, wide and bright. Will you come back to mine? Gerard would say, and Frank would say Yes.
Gerard can't pursue that thought any further, not unless he wants to get a random boner on the track, so he switches to thinking about the drawing of a faerie that he was dicking around with a couple of weeks ago, whether or not he should color her wings in or leave them black and white.
"Gerard," Ms. Reed says, "You have to finish the mile before the end of the period." Gerard nods distractedly and looks down at his watch. He can stretch the last two laps out over ten minutes, definitely. He slows down.
---
Gerard skips the shower -- it's asking for trouble, getting naked and wet around a bunch of guys who want an excuse to beat him up -- but it means he smells like ass when Frank comes and finds him during club period. Gerard normally wouldn't care what he smells like, but Frank is all up in his space.
"What's up?" Frank says. He wrinkles his nose. "You smell rancid."
"Shut up," Gerard says. He takes a step back. "Sorry. I had gym."
"Whatever," Frank says. He bounces on his toes once or twice, like he's waiting for Gerard to say something. Gerard doesn't know what to say. "Maybe I could come over today?" Frank asks, finally.
"Why don't you ask Mikey?" Gerard asks.
Frank smile gets bigger, which is just weird; Gerard didn't say anything worth smiling about. Frank bounces on his toes a few more times and says, "Oh, oh, no, I didn't even think. I mean, I talked to Mikey already, sure."
"Is this about--" Gerard says, and gestures between them. He glances behind him, but no one's coming down the stairs. "The kiss thing," he says, dropping his voice. "Because I told you--"
Frank looks away. "No!" he says. "Oh, no, not at all. Oh man, you thought-- no, no way, God. No, I just thought you'd want to teach me more about the game, or whatever."
Gerard deflates a little. He thought maybe Frank had been thinking about the kiss, like maybe Gerard was different from all the other guys. No such luck. "No, you're good," he says. "Why would I teach you more about the game?" he asks, after a beat.
"I don't know, maybe you would, or something," Frank says. He's still grinning, which is just fucking weird. "I guess I'll take off, then."
"Okay," Gerard says.
"Okay, bye," Frank says, and turns around. "Oh," he says, and turns back around. "Can I have the picture of the character?"
"Yeah, I'm going to color it tonight," Gerard says, and abruptly feels even more miserable. He's just going to torture himself if he colors it tonight, but now he has to. "I'll bring it to lunch tomorrow."
"Okay, yeah," Frank says, backing away. "See you."
"Okay, see you," Gerard says. He waits until Frank turns the corner at the end of the hall to bounce his head off of the wall.
---
"Did you talk to Frank?" Gerard asks, on their way home.
"No," Mikey says, and blinks at Gerard a few times.
"He said he'd talked to you," Gerard says. "About coming over."
"Oh." Mikey blinks a few more times. "Maybe he did."
"Probably," Gerard says. "Whatever. Can you not have him over for a little while?"
Mikey shrugs. After a couple of steps, he bumps his shoulder against Gerard's once, a companionable sort of sympathy.
"Thanks," Gerard mumbles, quiet enough that Mikey can pretend he didn't hear.
---
Mikey gives Gerard seven days. He'd probably give Gerard even longer, but Gerard doesn't want Mikey to lose a new friend, just because he happens to be related to a massive loser. Gerard tells Mikey that it's cool if Frank comes over again. Mikey brings Frank home with him the next night.
Gerard spends the entire time at his desk, working on sketches with his headphones on. Frank doesn’t bother Gerard, but he stays and stays and stays, until Gerard’s about ready to scream.
Finally, Mikey and Frank go upstairs, and Gerard can take off his headphones. When Mikey comes thumping downstairs from letting Frank out, Gerard mutters, “Fucking Christ, I thought he was going to stay overnight.”
“I told him not to kiss you again,” Mikey says.
Gerard looks up from his computer. He and Mikey stare at one another.
“Can you make me a drink?” Gerard asks.
Mikey shrugs and goes over to their liquor stash. “Vodka and ginger okay?” Mikey says.
Gerard looks up from lighting a cigarette and jerks his shoulders in an affirmative shrug. Mikey gets down the vodka -- it’s dwindling, Gerard had better score another handle -- and rolls the bottle of ginger ale out from under Gerard’s bed with his foot.
“What’d you tell him?” Gerard asks, like it doesn’t much matter to him.
Mikey sets out two Solo cups and uncaps the vodka. “I told him you weren’t into him,” he says.
Gerard chews on his lip, and then offers, “You didn’t have to lie.” He’s pretty glad Mikey did, though. It makes Gerard sound cool, or at least cooler than he is.
“I figured it was better if I didn’t call him a slut,” Mikey answers, and Gerard nods. Mikey’s probably right about that.
Mikey slugs a couple of shots into the first cup and a couple more into the second, the bottle glugging quietly. He sets down the handle and stoops down to pick up the ginger ale. The bottle hisses when Mikey twists the cap, and Gerard startles out of his daze. “Thanks,” Gerard says. Mikey doesn’t respond. When Mikey hands Gerard his drink, Gerard repeats himself, and that time Mikey gives him a jerky nod and a smile.
---
If Gerard really focuses, he’s pretty okay at acting. He's not great at acting like other people, really -- he kind of overdoes it -- but if he pays attention he can totally act like himself.
For the next couple of weeks, Gerard focuses on acting like the version of himself who doesn’t want to have illegal sex with Frank. Gerard looks away every time Frank bends over, and he gets up and moves whenever Frank is in his space. He pretends not to notice stuff about Frank, and doesn’t get even remotely excited when Frank tells them about his plans for his birthday (even though it’s on Halloween, and that’s just fucking cool).
It gets tougher on the third week. Frank starts to hang off this guy in the sophomore class, who Mikey says is named Bob. Bob is blond, and blue-eyed, and way hotter than Gerard. Even worse, Bob is either gay, or doesn’t give a shit if people say he’s gay, because he lets Frank crawl all over him. Bob hangs out with Frank while Frank hands out more gay-ass fliers, and he shoves a couple of the guys who call Frank a faggot.
Bob seems like a nice enough dude, Gerard will allow that. That doesn’t mean Gerard has to like him. And it doesn’t mean that Gerard has to let him hang out with them during lunch, for fuck’s sake.
“Dude,” Frank says, “You’re being a douche.”
“I’m just saying,” Gerard says. “Pretty soon we’re going to have the whole fucking school down here.”
Mikey folds his arms and frowns, like no we’re not. Gerard points at him and says, “Shut up, asshole, you’re the one who keeps bringing people.”
“He didn’t say anything,” Frank says.
“Fuck you,” Gerard tells Frank. “He did. And he can stop saying it, okay?”
“Should I leave?” Bob asks. He looks kind of confused.
Frank and Ray chorus, “No," before Gerard can answer.
Mikey shrugs elaborately at Gerard and looks away, like you’re just flipping about Frank’s boyfriend.
“Fuck you!” Gerard says. “I am not!”
“They always do this,” Ray tells Frank and Bob.
Mikey rolls his eyes, like that’s because Gerard’s always dumb.
“No, I am not,” Gerard says. “We have too many people down here. I am right this time, I am totally right.”
Mikey looks over at Frank and back at Gerard, like Are you sure this isn’t like the skateboard thing? Which is so out of line, because okay, Gerard was flipping out about not being able to get a skateboard because he was cranky about school, fine, but that was one fucking time, and that was an extremely specific instance.
“Shut up,” Gerard says. “This is nothing like the skateboard thing.”
Mikey shakes his head and smirks, and that, that is just fucking low.
“Oh, you really think so, huh? Fuck you, asshole,” Gerard says. “Whatever, fuck all of you, I’m going outside. Have fun trying to play without a mod.”
Gerard grabs his backpack, bangs open the door, and slams it shut behind him. He stomps down the stairs and over to the edge of school grounds, right by the hedge.
He smokes two cigarettes before the door creaks open again.
“Fuck you,” Gerard calls, and lights another one. When Gerard looks up, though, it’s not Mikey. It’s Frank. “What the fuck do you want?” Gerard asks.
Frank doesn’t answer. He comes over and drops down next to Gerard, scattering gravel and making the hedge rustle, and leans against Gerard’s arm.
“Don’t you want to hang out with your boyfriend?” Gerard asks. He doesn’t look over at Frank, even when Frank bumps his toes against Gerard’s.
“Bob’s not my boyfriend,” Frank says. “I mean,” he adds, when Gerard gives him a startled look, “Not really.”
Gerard doesn’t say anything. He feels kind of relieved, because they’re not really boyfriends, but kind of sick, because not really. That doesn’t mean Mikey was right, though. They totally have way too many people hanging out in the art room now. Fack might get mad.
Gerard says that, since it’s a reasonable point. “I just don’t want everyone down here. Fack could get mad if we have, like, a rave down in the art room.”
“It’s not a rave,” Frank says, “It’s just Bob.” Frank giggles at his own joke. Gerard smiles in spite of himself, which means he’s off-guard when Frank snatches at the cigarette in Gerard’s mouth. Frank almost gets it, even, but Gerard leans away just in time. Frank makes a sad noise.
“I’m not giving you a cigarette,” Gerard says.
“Please?” Frank says. He puts his chin on Gerard’s shoulder. Gerard can feel Frank looking at him, staring at his ear. It’s fucking irritating. That’s the only reason why Gerard gives in, though, absolutely the only reason.
Frank squeals when Gerard pulls the cigarette out of his pack, and Gerard elbows him in the side. ”Shut up,” Gerard says. “I’m still pissed that you brought Bob.”
“Whatever, you don’t care at all,” Frank says. “You’re just PMSing.”
“I’m not a girl,” Gerard says, and slaps Frank’s knee. Frank slaps back, but then he leans into Gerard’s side again, making a comfortable noise. “Fuck you, I’m still pissed,” Gerard says.
”Okay, okay. You’re still pissed,” Frank says. He leans his head against Gerard’s shoulder, then, like he's the one who’s a girl, and Gerard’s his boyfriend.
If Gerard were Frank’s boyfriend, and Frank were a girl, and they were on a bus on a field trip or something, Gerard would let Frank lie on his lap, and Gerard would play with Frank’s hair. They’re not, though, they’re not any of that, so Gerard doesn’t move or say anything. Gerard acts like he’s the version of himself that doesn’t even notice Frank’s leaning on him, who doesn’t want to hold Frank’s hand and touch his hair.
Frank sits up after a minute, anyway, and says, “C’mon, let’s go back inside.”
“Whatever,” Gerard says, but he levers himself to his feet.
Bob turns out to be not just okay, but actually pretty cool, although Gerard doesn’t say that. Matt doesn’t seem to like Bob, but Gerard privately thinks that’s because Bob does Matt’s big-silent-dude-who-sometimes-makes-crude-jokes thing with more flair. By the end of lunch, Gerard is at least okay with the idea that Bob might join them in the future. He even says so.
”Thanks,” Bob says. He’s smirking, but he claps Gerard on the back like Gerard is a dude or something, so Gerard just figures that’s how Bob smiles.
Before they leave the art room, Gerard puts his arm around Mikey’s shoulders, like sorry. Mikey smiles and puts his arm around Gerard’s waist, like okay.
So Frank and Gerard are fine, and Gerard and Mikey are fine, and Gerard and Bob are fine, and Frank and Bob are supposedly not boyfriends. Gerard is still suspicious about that last one. Bob laughs at Frank’s jokes, which are kind of not that funny, and Bob lets Frank climb on him, even though Frank is kind of heavy. Frank is always grinning at Bob, too, looking at him and smiling for no reason.
Gerard just thinks that people should be open about their relationships, though. If Frank is going to stop being the school's gay recruitment chair and settle down, he should, like, own that. Gerard attempts to explain this to Mikey while they’re walking home, but Mikey just smiles at him until Gerard sputters and gives up.
Gerard’s little brother is an asshole.
---
Gerard doesn’t have good days at school. Every single day at school is a shitty day; it’s just a question of degree. Thursday, though, is three hundred and sixty degrees of shittiness. Thursday is a full revolution of shit.
Gerard has gym first period, which is already, okay, at least a hundred degrees right there. Today, though, James yanks down Gerard’s shorts during volleyball. Everyone sees his stupid tighty-whities, and everyone laughs. Even the fucking teacher. Gerard pulls up his shorts and tries to laugh along, like his mom is always telling him to do, but it doesn’t seem to help at all.
Then, then Ms. Reed holds Gerard after to talk to him about his “lack of effort” and “poor attitude.” It’s like she didn’t even fucking notice that Gerard was fucking humiliated today. Gerard doesn’t say anything, because there's no fucking point; he just nods and mumbles when she pauses for air. When she finally lets him go, Gerard gets into the locker room just as the other guys are getting back from showering.
The guys pick up right where they left off, teasing him about his "panties," snapping the waistband and saying stuff about his hips and thighs, how he’s curvy like a girl. Gerard tries to hunch his shoulders and ignore them, but once they’ve noticed him they never stop.
“Aren’t you going to shower?” Paul asks. Gerard doesn’t answer. “Jesus, no wonder you smell like fucking garbage all the time.”
“Oh, that’s nasty, man, you’ve got to shower,” James says, pitching his voice so he sounds like he’s being nice.
“Are you going to melt?” Chris asks.
James answers, “No, he’s scared he’s going to get a hard-on if he goes in where we shower.”
“Oh, gross!” “That’s nasty!” “Fucking fag!”
Gerard digs blindly for his clothes, biting his lip. He can see Paul looking at him. Paul looks like he's calculating. Paul could drag Gerard in there, if he decided to. Paul is bigger than Gerard, stronger. If the boys ganged up, they could make Gerard do it, take off his clothes and make him stand there and shower in front of them. They could make him do anything. Gerard's stomach turns; he's half-sick and half-turned-on, his skin prickling hot from the humiliation.
Gerard yanks his towel out, instead of his clothes. He wraps it around his waist, then goes to pull his underwear off from underneath it.
“Oh, c’mon, you scared we’ll see how small your dick is?” Paul says. He’s grinning.
Gerard mumbles, “Fuck you,” and tries to push past Paul.
“No, c’mon, man, we’re all guys here,” Paul says, and catches his elbow.
“What, you really want to see my dick?” Gerard asks. He yanks his arm away from Paul. Paul’s expression darkens, his hand curls into a fist. Everyone’s laughter rises around them, loud and raucous, and someone is already chanting fight, fight.
Gerard panics. He runs for the showers.
Their laughter follows him, Paul’s voice rising as he says something else, something Gerard can’t quite make out over the rush of his heartbeat in his ears. Gerard fumbles for the curtain on one of the single stalls, presses himself against the side of the wall and turns the water on to drown out their voices.
The water is frigid, no matter how Gerard twists at the knob. His dick feels like it’s trying to fold up inside his body, and his gut is twisting up inside him. His hands are shaking when he rubs his heavy bar of soap under his armpits; his fingers slip off of the dial the first time that he tries to shut off the water. Gerard edges out of the stall, grabs his towel and wraps it around his waist, tight, until it bites into his sides.
Gerard hates that he’s scared, and that he’s fat and fucking useless in a fight. He hates that he showered when they told him to, like he has to listen to them when they tell him what to do. Gerard hates it, all of it, hates himself.
Gerard peeks around the corner before he ventures back into the locker room. His locker is unmolested, and everyone seems to have left; they could be hiding, waiting for him, but he has to risk it. He redresses with shaking fingers, breathing hard and wincing every time he hears a noise. He flees as soon as he can, shoving his gym stuff haphazardly in his locker and slinging his bag over his shoulder as he walks out.
Gerard can’t go to math, not after that. He just can’t. Ray and Matt will have to cover for him, or he’ll just have to get in trouble. Gerard doesn’t fucking care anymore, really. He goes down to the art wing, cutting through the hallways that people are less likely to be in, and grabs his sketchbook. After a moment’s hesitation, Gerard heads for the bathroom that's closest to Fack's studio. It’s chillier in the bathroom than in the rest of the school, somehow, and it smells like piss and disinfectant. Better than math, though, and better than the locker room.
Gerard locks himself in the stall furthest from the door. He sits on the edge of the toilet, and flips his sketchbook open to a clean page in the back. He sits there with the page in front of him, just looking at it. He rubs his eyes, then rubs them harder when he realizes that they’re a little wet. He’s such a fucking baby. He wipes his eyes roughly with one sleeve and sniffles, just to clear out his nose. The sniff is loud in the quiet bathroom. Gerard takes a deep breath in and lets it whoosh out. He can breathe as loud as he wants to, in here. No one’s in here besides him.
FUCK THIS FUCKING PLACE, Gerard writes, at the top of the page.
A couple of voices rise in the hallway, and Gerard folds his knees up, putting his feet on the edge of the toilet and pressing the sketchbook against his chest. He waits for a long second, but it doesn’t sound like anyone’s coming in. He puts his feet gingerly back on the floor. He sketches out a couple of shapes, just doodling; they slowly grow into monsters, with big teeth and huge, vicious-looking claws. He draws Paul in next to one of the monsters, his head hanging lopsided off of his neck, blood spurting out of the stump. After a moment, Gerard darkens the front of Paul’s pants, makes them wet with blood and piss.
Gerard draws a few more horrific decapitations and maimings, until his hands stop shaking. Then he rips out the page and tears it into strips. He drops it behind him, into the toilet, and flushes. The last thing he needs is to get pulled in for being a psychopath, really.
EVERYTHING IS JUST FINE, he writes at the top of the next page. He drew so hard on the previous page that the outlines of his monsters are imprinted on this one. Gerard draws a unicorn over them, an easy drawing that he’s always doing for Mikey.
By the time he’s sure that no one would be able to figure out what he was drawing, Gerard’s lost most of the edge of his embarrassment and his anger. Gerard unlocks the stall door, peeking out to make sure that he’s still alone, and opens the frosted-glass window. He lights a cigarette and leans against the wall, smoking slowly. No one comes in.
Eventually Gerard goes back, when math is over and it’s time for history. History is all right.
---
“Where were you today?” Ray asks. He dumps his bag on the table. The edge of it bangs against Gerard’s sketchpad, and Gerard straightens the pad out again with an irritated motion.
“Nowhere,” Gerard says. “Just didn’t feel like putting up with Ms. Mirkin’s shit.”
“We had a test,” Ray says.
Gerard’s stomach drops and his lungs seize up, but he just shrugs his shoulders. After a beat, he manages to get out, “Oh well. Not like I would have passed it.”
Ray looks worried, and now everyone else is paying attention.
“Mom’s going to be mad,” Mikey points out.
Gerard shrugs again. “I’ll figure it out,” he says dully. He’s so fucking stupid, it’s not like it matters anyway.
“Wait, why did you miss?” Frank asks.
“Just. Stuff,” Gerard says. He gets up. “I have to pee, I’ll be right back.”
Gerard goes into the art wing bathroom. He goes to the furthest stall. He locks the door, and then he kicks the wall, hard enough that there’s a scuff mark on the tile. He sits down heavily on the edge of the toilet and buries his face in his hands.
“Fuck,” he says.
He missed a fucking test, of course he did. He couldn’t stand up for himself, and he skipped class, and he missed a test. Ms. Mirkin will fail him, and the head will pull him in for another talking-to, and his mom is going to be so pissed. Worse, she’s going to be disappointed. Gerard’s a fat fucking failure, and there’s no fucking hope.
Gerard’s sniffles echo off of the tile. He folds his arms and buries his face against them, thinking déjà fucking vu.
This time, though, the door to the bathroom swings open. “Gerard?” Mikey asks cautiously.
Gerard says, “In here.” Mikey’s shoes come to the other side of the stall door and stop. “Go away,” Gerard adds.
Then another pair of shoes join Mikey’s.
“Who’s that?” Gerard asks, and drags his sleeve under his nose. There’s no answer, just a thump and a scrabbling noise against the metal door. Gerard jerks back, but apparently it was just Frank jumping for the top of the stall door. Frank's face and hands appear at the top of the stall door, and then Frank levers himself up and swings his legs over. He teeters at the top and falls off, landing in an ungraceful heap on the other side.
“You could have gone under the door,” Mikey points out.
“You could have asked me to open it,” Gerard says.
Frank just grins. “That was more fun,” he says. He gets up off of the floor and climbs into Gerard’s lap.
“Get the fuck off me,” Gerard says. He shoves Frank, hard, but Frank just braces one foot on the floor and shoves his fat ass onto Gerard's lap.
“It’s okay, I’m a fag,” Frank says. “We’re touchy, that’s what we do.”
“What the fuck?” Gerard says. He hears Mikey start to snigger. Frank just wiggles until Gerard lets him settle on his lap, wraps his arms around Gerard’s shoulders, and plants his face in the side of Gerard’s neck. He’s warm, and a little sweaty. His uniform jacket is scraping the underside of Gerard’s chin. “What the fuck?” Gerard repeats.
“Is he doing the thing?” Mikey asks.
Gerard leans forward to unlock the door. Frank still doesn’t fall off. He clings tighter. Gerard gets the door open and leans back again. Frank slides a little, but he doesn’t let go of Gerard’s neck, and Gerard has to put his arms around Frank’s middle to hitch him back into place.
Mikey peeks around the edge of the stall door. “Yeah,” he says, “He’s doing the thing.”
“When did you become friends with him?” Gerard asks. “I keep thinking that, like, I didn’t know him before he was locker guy.”
“That was kind of when we bonded, yeah,” Mikey says. “Before that I just got the notes for math from him.” Frank huffs a laugh against Gerard’s neck, but he doesn’t add anything.
“Wait, okay, Frank. What are you doing?” Gerard asks, trying to crane his head around to catch Frank’s eyes. It’s impossible.
“Being a big homo,” Frank says, muffled against Gerard's neck. He pulls his head back to add, “Omigoooood, guys, let’s get makeovers.” Mikey sniggers harder.
“Stop being a fucking tool,” Gerard says. “I’m having a bad day.”
“That’s why we need makeovers, sweetiepie. What do you think, mani-pedi? I like pink and chartreuse for a French manicure,” Frank lisps, ignoring Gerard’s scowl. Frank leans back, finally, but doesn’t take his arms from around Gerard’s neck. “And baby, I mean it, you need some highlights. Girl, you are looking so pasty.”
“Oh my god,” Gerard says. He ducks his head to hide the smile that’s threatening.
“Omigooooood,” Frank agrees, and giggles. Gerard has to turn his face into Frank’s armpit to stifle his laugh. He has a feeling Frank knows he’s laughing anyway, because Frank repeats, “Omigooooood” again.
“You are such an asshole,” Gerard tells him, but he squeezes Frank’s middle, keeping Frank on his lap.
“What happened?” Mikey says, blunt like he always is. Gerard feels his cheeks heat, and he ducks his head again.
“Nothing,” he says. “Just. Some stupid stuff in gym, whatever.”
“Who was it?” Frank asks. “I’ll beat them up. I’ve got mighty morphin’ fag powers.”
“Shut up,” Gerard says, but he doesn’t mean it. Mikey grins at him, and Gerard manages a good, real smile back. “It was just Paul and them. They made fun of me, and I just. I don’t know.” He glances over at Frank, embarrassed.
“One time these boys at summer camp put my underwear on my head and made me recite the alphabet backwards over and over until I did it perfect,” Frank blurts. Gerard looks at Frank again, surprised. Frank’s pink-cheeked, but he nods.
“Remember that time Bobby used me for a sled?” Mikey asks. He shoves up his glasses with the back of his hand. Gerard snorts and nods. His stomach is still twisting around, but he feels a little better, kind of. “That sucked. I let him do it twice, too,” Mikey tells Frank. Frank hoots with sympathetic laughter.
“They told me to shower,” Gerard says. He coughs, embarrassed. "I thought Paul was going to punch me, and so I like, I ran for the shower, you know?"
Frank grins at him. He’s close, so close, and he’s being so sweet. Gerard wants to kiss him. “That sucks,” Frank whispers. “Showering is so lame.” Gerard can’t help but smile back, and there’s a breath, a moment, where Gerard thinks that they’ll kiss again, even with his brother right there.
“C’mon,” Gerard says abruptly, and looks away. “I’ll give you a cigarette.”
Frank whoops and scrambles off of Gerard’s lap. Mikey throws Gerard a sharp look, but Gerard refuses to catch it.
---
Frank comes in to lunch on Friday with one eye swollen nearly shut.
"Dude," Matt says. "Nice bruise." He and Frank high-five, because apparently they're cavemen and think hitting is cool.
"What did you do?" Gerard asks.
Frank turns to face him. "I didn't do anything," he says. Gerard scoffs.
The bruise is kind of pink-purple when Gerard peers at it. It's mostly swelling now, but it's probably going to become a proper black eye sometime soon, when the swelling starts to go down. Gerard says as much. Frank grins, and his bruised eye squinches all the way shut. It shouldn't be cute.
"What did you run into?" Gerard asks, which is when Mikey comes in.
"Dude!" Mikey says. Gerard blinks. Mikey never gets excited during school hours. "Fucking awesome!" Mikey yells. He and Frank high-five as well.
"Would someone tell me what's going on?" Gerard says plaintively.
Mikey grins at him. "Frank beat Paul up."
"I think I beat him down, actually," Frank says. He and Mikey giggle in unison, like fucking losers.
"Why did Frank beat up Paul?" Gerard asks. He sounds like the tapes his French teacher plays for them, wooden and over-enunciated.
Mikey rolls his eyes. "Because Paul was an asshole to you, remember? Yesterday?"
"Shut up," Gerard says automatically. It comes out kind of like a valley girl, though, because his mind is completely fucking blown.
Frank shoves Mikey's shoulder and mutters, "He's an asshole to everyone."
Gerard opens his mouth to say something else. He stands there with his mouth open for a couple of seconds, then shuts it. He opens it again and manages, "Wow?"
"Paul's a dick," Frank says defensively. "I didn't like him before, anyway."
"Frank called him a cockmunch and Paul hit him," Mikey says triumphantly. "And then Frank tripped him and punched him in the stomach and then Paul tried to headbutt him but Frank kicked Paul in the crotch and Paul cried." It's the most that Gerard has ever heard Mikey say while on school property, including when he ran for class secretary and had to give a speech.
"You shouldn't fight people," Gerard says, "Fighting is wrong." Gerard was really going to be more discouraging about it, but then Frank blushes and ducks his head, and Mikey says, "In the crotch!" and Gerard grins helplessly. "Dude," Gerard says. "Dude, you beat up Paul."
"He was a dick," Frank says. "I told you I have mighty morphin' fag powers."
"He got beat down by a fag freshman," Mikey says, and he and Frank high-five and giggle again.
"Did he really cry?" Matt asks.
"I kicked his balls pretty hard," Frank admits.
And that's when Ray walks in to join them. Ray has to hear the whole story, of course, and Frank has to reenact it for them with Mikey's commentary ("in the crotch!") and Ray has to express disbelief approximately eighty-four billion times.
"No way," Ray says. "This is crazy. You have to be lying."
"He totally beat him up," Mikey says. He's slowly getting his monotone back, but it's not quite there yet.
"Dude," Ray says, impressed.
Gerard has maybe been staring at Frank for a while -- Frank beat a guy up for him, Gerard is sure some staring is allowed -- and so he's the first to notice when Frank's lip cracks open. "Your lip is bleeding," Gerard says helpfully.
Frank touches his lip and winces. "I guess he must have got me with that headbutt," he says.
"C'mon," Gerard says, and hops down from his stool. He holds out his hand. Frank just looks at it quizzically, and Gerard sighs. "You need to wash it, Paul might have the herp."
"You can't get herp from a headbutt," Frank says, but he lets Gerard tug him out of the room and into the bathroom. Before the door swings shut, Gerard can hear Mikey going back to telling Ray that no, really, in the crotch.
The bathroom is silent. Gerard runs a little lukewarm water and wets a paper towel. He presses it to Frank's bloody lip. "I guess you could go to the nurse," he says, apologetically.
"I hate the nurse," Frank mumbles.
"He's a pain in the ass," Gerard agrees. "He never lets me stay out of class when I really need to."
After a beat, Frank brings his hand and presses it over the paper towel. His fingers bump against Gerard's before Gerard takes his hand away. Gerard backs away and leans his butt against the edge of the sink behind him.
"You beat up Paul," Gerard says, and grins down at his shoes. "Violence isn't the answer, Frank, but. But that's really cool."
"Shut up," Frank says. When Gerard looks up at him, Frank is bright pink again.
Gerard says, "I just never had anyone beaten up for me before. Not even a little bit. You're-- I mean, you're my hero." It comes out a lot more earnest than Gerard means it to, but he doesn't qualify it. Frank kind of is his hero, right now.
Frank huffs out a laugh, then pulls away the paper towel. "Whatever, I'm not that cool," he says. He moves towards the sinks, leaning slightly sideways to check his lip in the mirror behind Gerard. Gerard reaches for Frank's hip to pull him closer, take a look for himself, but Frank must misread his body language, because he comes closer, too close, and then they're kissing.
Frank's mouth tastes like blood, kind of sharp and gross, but he's making those noises like he did before and grabbing at Gerard's shoulders. Gerard should stop, obviously he should stop, but he doesn't; he hauls Frank up against his body and digs his fingers into Frank's love handles. They're as soft as Gerard thought they would be, and Frank is still incredibly warm. It feels really good to kiss him.
Gerard is doing a shitty job of acting like the version of himself who doesn't want to have illegal sex with Frank, right now. Gerard is aware that his acting is not up to par. Gerard should really stop.
Frank gasps against his mouth when Gerard pulls their hips together. Gerard has no idea what he's doing to make Frank gasp, but he wants to keep doing it, he doesn't want to stop, he never wants to stop.
"Guys-- whoa!"
Gerard pulls back and looks at the door, embarrassed. Ray is staring at them, his hand stalled on the doorknob. Frank doesn't stop kissing Gerard, even though Gerard's taken his mouth away. His busted lip drags against Gerard's neck, and Gerard closes his eyes and makes a genuinely embarrassing noise.
"I'll talk to you later!" Ray says, and the door finally falls shut. Frank giggles against Gerard's neck.
Gerard should stop then, should take Ray walking in as a sign. He almost does, too. Then Frank bites down on his neck, hard, and the pain makes Gerard's throat seize up. All Gerard can do is tilt his head back and to the side, wanting Frank to do it again.
"Let me?" Frank asks. It's so a line from a Lifetime movie -- not that Gerard watches them -- and Gerard would laugh at him if Frank didn't have his hand pressed against the fly of Gerard's pants.
"I-- fuck, we shouldn't--" Gerard gets out.
"You're right, c'mon," Frank says.
"I mean--" Gerard starts, but Frank is just tugging him into the first stall and flipping the lock shut behind them.
Gerard wasn't expecting this, when he came into school today. Fuck, Gerard wasn't going to come into school today. "I am so glad I came to school today," Gerard tells Frank, while Frank is wrestling open his fly.
"Me too," Frank says, and puts his hand on Gerard's dick.
"Fnngh," Gerard says. Frank laughs. Gerard would be pissed, but he's busy getting a handjob.
It feels really good. Which, okay, Gerard had a feeling it would, but it feels better than he expected. Frank has this rolling thing he does with his palm that Gerard would never have come up with on his own. He keeps flicking his thumbnail under the head of Gerard's cock, too, which Gerard couldn't do to himself, but feels fucking amazing.
The only downer is that Frank is fucking staring. "What're you looking at?" Gerard asks. Frank flicks his thumbnail again, and Gerard gasps and bangs his head back against the side of the stall.
"You?" Frank answers, like Gerard's the one being stupid.
"Stop it," Gerard says.
"No," Frank says. He's a jerk, but he's a jerk who's jerking Gerard off, so Gerard figures he's not allowed to complain. Gerard shuts his eyes so he can't see Frank watching him, and tries to ignore the fact that he's pretty sure he looks like a moron when he comes.
Frank kisses him, after he wipes his hand off on a piece of toilet paper and tucks Gerard back into his slacks. Gerard is too blissed out to do anything but open his lips and let Frank push his tongue into his mouth. It feels pretty good, still, and Gerard grabs at Frank's ass helpfully.
When Frank pulls back from the kiss, Gerard says, "So, um." Frank just stares at him, one eye squinched up by the bruise. Gerard rolls his eyes and grabs Frank's waistband, ignoring Frank's yelp. He gets the fly of Frank's uniform slacks open, reaches in Frank's underwear, and gets his first-ever handful of someone else's cock.
Then he pulls his hand back out, licks his palm thoroughly, and reaches back in to get his second-ever handful of someone else's cock.
Frank makes a happy noise and thunks his head back against the wall. His hips twitch forward, and Gerard twists his hand helpfully. Frank makes another happy noise. Gerard grins proudly. Handjob king!
Of course Frank has to throw a wrench in Gerard's handjob domination plans about two seconds later. Frank's knees start to shake a little bit, and he slouches down towards the floor. It throws off Gerard's rhythm, and Gerard makes an irritated noise. Frank straightens back up, but a minute later he's doing it again.
"I'm trying to give you a handjob here," Gerard says.
Frank waves his hands helplessly. "I can't focus on my dick when I'm standing up," he says. Gerard looks down at the floor, considering, but Frank says, "Absolutely not."
Gerard huffs. He stops his hand on Frank's dick, ignoring Frank's sounds of pain and agony in favor of thinking about the problem. After a second, he says, "Hey, turn around." He takes his hand off of Frank's dick, to speed up the process. Frank gives him a worried look, but he turns around and faces the opposite wall. "Back up," Gerard says. Frank shuffles back a step, pressing back against Gerard. Gerard wraps one arm around Frank's chest, licks his palm again, and shoves his hand back into Frank's underwear.
"Oh, good idea," Frank says.
"I'm a problem solver," Gerard says, and gets back to stroking Frank's dick.
It's easier like this, just like when Gerard is jerking himself off. This is an improvement, though; when Gerard is jerking off, he doesn't usually have Frank hissing and writhing against him, making needy desperate noises as he thrusts up into Gerard's fist. Gerard hardly has to do any work at all, practically, with the way Frank is humping his hand. Gerard really likes this system.
Gerard looks over Frank's shoulder, craning his neck to look down at Frank's cock. It's sliding back and forth in Gerard's fist, wet and red and veiny. It should be pretty gross, and it kind of is, but it's the hot kind of gross. Gerard's getting hard again, even.
"That's pretty hot," he says, off-hand. Frank's hips snap forward when Gerard says it, though, like Gerard said something really dirty, Gerard clears his throat, feeling a little embarrassed, but he says, "You know, I like your cock, it feels good."
"Good," Frank gasps. He tilts his head back against Gerard's shoulder. His mouth is wet and pink, ragged around the red split in his lip. Gerard doesn't know why he didn't notice Frank's mouth before this. It's fucking pornographic. It's weird, but Frank's porn mouth makes Gerard think about sucking Frank's dick. Gerard hesitates, and then decides that screw it, he'll just think out loud until Frank tells him to shut up.
"Your mouth is hot, too. But it's weird, it makes me think about sucking your dick, not the other way around." Gerard says. Frank makes a little whining noise, which Gerard takes as encouragement. "I should totally try sucking your dick sometime," he continues, "That would be pretty hard on my knees, here. Maybe on my bed, or something."
Frank grunts, his voice bouncing off the tile, and comes all over Gerard's fist.
"Dude," Gerard says. "That was easy."
"Shut up," Frank mumbles. He's sagging back against Gerard, his head lolling on Gerard's shoulder.
Gerard brings his hand up and examines Frank's come. It's white and gloppy. It looks the same as Gerard's does. Gerard takes a tentative lick. It tastes better than Gerard's does. Gerard licks the rest of it off of his hand, and then wipes his hand against his hip. When he looks over, Frank is regarding him through slitted eyes.
"Did you just eat my come?" Frank asks.
"Uh," Gerard says. "Yeah, I guess I did." He wiggles his fingers. "See, all clean."
"Shit," Frank says. Gerard can't tell if it's a good shit or a bad shit, but Frank turns around and kisses him, so he supposes it's good. Gerard wonders if maybe this is a thing, with the kissing and the handjobs.
"Is this a thing?" Gerard asks, when Frank pulls back. Apparently his brain has decided to turn back online and embarrass the living shit out of him.
"No?" Frank says. Gerard can actually feel his face fall. "I mean," Frank says. Frank leans away and starts to pull up his pants, his movements awkward. Gerard drops his hands to his sides.
Gerard says, "Oh, it's cool, I thought--"
"I mean--"
"Yeah, no, that's better," Gerard says. "That's way better."
"Oh," Frank says, "Yeah, I thought--"
"Yeah," Gerard says. "I'd prefer it that way, actually."
They stand there awkwardly, staring at each other, and then Gerard opens the stall door. "Okay, then," he says, and lets Frank out in front of him.
---
"I just told them you were talking about stuff," Ray whispers to Gerard, before they split up to go to their classes, and Gerard feels himself flush bright, horrible red.
---
part three
---
"So," Mikey says, when he gets back from letting Frank out.
"Frank and I made out," Gerard blurts.
Mikey stops with his hand on the doorknob. "What," he says, but Gerard knows that Mikey heard him.
Gerard maybe should have waited for Mikey to say something, or ask a question, or do something other than open the door, but Gerard has a really hard time keeping secrets from Mikey. It may mean that Gerard is a loser, but Mikey is Gerard's best friend in the whole world. Gerard doesn't like trying to think stuff through without Mikey. It gets too confusing without Mikey there to roll his eyes.
"Did he kiss you?" Mikey says, finally. Gerard nods. "I told him not to," Mikey says despairingly, and goes to sit on his own bed.
"You guys talked about this?" Gerard squeaks. "Mikey, what."
"He said he wanted to," Mikey says, "Kiss you. And I told him that was a bad idea."
"Oh," Gerard says. It's kind of cool that Frank wanted to kiss him, but. "You could have brought up that he's too young to be kissing seniors," Gerard points out.
Mikey flaps his hand at that, like Gerard's very significant concerns are pointless. "Frank makes out with seniors all the time," he says, and oh, maybe Gerard's very significant concerns are pointless. Or common. Or pointlessly common.
"Frank makes out with seniors all the time?" Gerard says.
Mikey shrugs. "That's kind of the thing," he says. Mikey is turning red. Gerard can feel his own face heating up, too. This is horrible. "Frank is kind of working his way through, like, the entire upper school."
Gerard blinks.
Gerard blinks again.
Gerard was the one who wanted to go to Fordhaven School for Boys. He was the one who argued with his mom, and took himself in for the IQ tests and the writing exams. He's the one who convinced the head to give him a scholarship. He's the one who dealt with the guilt of having his mom pay for what the scholarship didn't cover.
Still, when Gerard did it, he did it knowing that he wasn't going to get laid at all before he went to college. When he signed the paperwork, he knew was guaranteeing his virginity until at least eighteen. Gerard might have had a chance to bone a dude at public school -- lots of weirdos go there, it's not unheard of -- but not at Fordhaven. He knew this going in, and he's never questioned it, not once.
"The entire upper school," Gerard repeats.
Mikey looks miserable. "It's this thing Frank has. Like, he thinks everyone is inherently bisexual, and that homophobia is a cover for being, whatever, curious." Gerard nods at this, automatically, and Mikey adds, "And Frank thinks it's funny, that he's made out with them. Like, when they're mean to him, he thinks about what bad kissers they are."
"But they shove him around," Gerard says. He's flabbergasted. His brain is actually not processing information. "Holy-- that's fucking insane."
Mikey shrugs again. "That's Frank, you know?"
Gerard sits, stunned. His cigarette is burning down to the filter, and he stubs it out in the ashtray on his desk absentmindedly.
This is-- it's just fucking insane, it really is. Frank is attempting to make out with everyone in the entire upper school. There are four classes, ninth through twelfth. Four classes of guys who have called Gerard "faggot," and who have acted like they're straighter than straight.
There are maybe thirty or forty guys in each class, too, which means that Frank is. Kind of a slut, actually. Which reminds Gerard of his brother, which makes him remember that Mikey said everyone in the school.
"Did you kiss him?" Gerard asks. Mikey nods. "Okay, that is massively weird," Gerard says.
"I didn't do anything else with him," Mikey says, and rolls his eyes. It's comforting when he does it; it's like things are normal instead of totally fucking crazy. "He just wanted me for his total, you know? It was, like, two seconds long."
"Oh god," Gerard says, just as a general statement about this brand new world he's been thrown into. "Wait, what about Ray?"
Mikey shakes his head, but he looks squirrelly, which means-- "Matt?" Gerard says, shocked.
Mikey starts to giggle. He nods. "At a party," he says. "It was actually kind of hot."
Gerard just stares at him. Mikey giggles a little harder, and Gerard goes, "Oh my god." They start to laugh, snorting and honking together. "Oh my god!" Gerard repeats, and Mikey puts his hands over his eyes and nods helplessly. "I-- oh my GOD!"
They take forever to calm down. Gerard is never going to be able to look at Matt in the eye again.
When they've both finally stopped laughing, Gerard is stretched out face first on his bed, and Mikey is sprawled out on the floor. "Fucking Matt," Gerard says, in wonder. He didn't think Matt had it in him; Matt really is the straightest straight guy that ever straighted. Matt looks at porn magazines during art class. Matt calls his porn magazines "girly mags."
"I know, right?" Mikey says. He pushes himself up and leans on his elbows. "There's another one, I mean. I think maybe you would want to know?" He doesn't sound so sure about it.
"Okay," Gerard says.
"He got Kyle to blow him at that party I went to at Sun's," Mikey says.
Gerard stops breathing for a second. That's really the only thing that marks the event of his heart fucking breaking. "Oh," he says, and inhales. "What, two weeks ago?" he asks. Mikey nods. Gerard blows out a breath.
Gerard had a crush on Kyle sophomore year. It was stupid. Gerard's pretty sure he didn't actually like Kyle, not really. Gerard was just realizing that no, he wasn't going to magically start liking girls, and Kyle was hot and in all of Gerard's classes.
Gerard did actually write a couple of stupid entries in his Social Sciences journal about self-revelation, and what it would take for a person to recognize a hidden part of their identity. One of the entries had even mentioned his feelings about someone unnamed in their class. It was a school notebook, and anyone could have found it; it had felt pretty daring at the time.
Apparently Frank is better at being daring, though.
"Huh," Gerard says. His stomach kind of hurts, but he just waves his hand at Mikey. "You know I got over Kyle in junior year," he says, and Mikey nods. It was a long, drawn-out process, during which Gerard finally convinced himself that he was being pathetic.
Gerard feels pretty pathetic right now. His chest hurts.
Gerard presses his face against his covers and takes a deep breath in, then lets it out. His covers are kind of smelly, but it's reassuring. He turns his face to the side again and looks at his brother. "I guess Frank didn't mean anything by kissing me, then," he says.
"Probably not," Mikey says. He looks down at his shoes, then over at Gerard. He looks pretty sorry. Gerard feels a big rush of stupid affection for his brother. "That's why I told him not to do it," Mikey adds.
"It's not like I took him that seriously," Gerard says lightly, but he and Mikey both know that he's lying. They sit in painful silence for a minute. Gerard picks at his cuticles.
Finally, Gerard shrugs. "Life sucks, school sucks, get over it," he says, quoting their mother. It startles Mikey into smiling. "Fucking Matt, man, my mind is totally blown," Gerard adds, and they both laugh more comfortably.
"Fucking Frank," Mikey says, and flops back down on the floor.
"Seriously, man, that kid," Gerard tells Mikey. "You want a cigarette?"
"Yeah," Mikey says, and Gerard lights one for him.
---
"We've decided to decharter the lacrosse, soccer, and basketball teams," the Head of Fordhaven says. "These teams only cultivate overblown masculinity and petty displays of violence. Instead, we will build a brand new art wing for the school, and double Mr. Fackenthal's salary." Mr. Fackenthal's mustache makes a deep curve at this, and his cheeks completely hide his eyes. The entire school applauds. The Head waits for them to quiet, and adds, "Furthermore, we have decided to change the name of our Junior/Senior Prom to the Diversity Dance, where everyone is welcome to be themselves!"
Everyone breaks into riotous cheers. The Head smiles benevolently.
When everyone is filing back out of the auditorium, Gerard is surrounded by a group of guys who want to talk to him. They're having an awesome conversation when Frank comes up to Gerard and says, "Hey."
"Guys, can I catch up with you later?" Gerard says, and everyone moves off, chattering excitedly about the Diversity Dance. "What's up?" Gerard asks.
"I heard that Mikey told you about my experiment," Frank mumbles.
"The effort to prove that we're all inherently bisexual," Gerard says. He nods sagely. "It's a worthwhile effort, but I don't know that I would have chosen your method. It's hardly scientific."
Frank smiles at Gerard's wit, even though he's visibly nervous. "You're right," he says.
"But that's not why you wanted to talk to me, is it?" Gerard says. "If you need something--"
"I just wanted you to know that I gave all that up. I'm-- I'm hoping that maybe you'll be my date to the Diversity Dance," Frank says. He looks hopeful.
"I don't think so," Gerard says. "Kyle already asked me--" Gerard stops. The scene resets.
"I just wanted you to know that I gave all that up. I'm-- I'm hoping that maybe you'll be my date to the Diversity Dance," Frank says. He looks hopeful.
"Yes," Gerard says magnanimously. "But you must promise that you'll find me wildly attractive in spite of my lack of experience--" He stops.
Gerard opens his eyes. He considers the ceiling of his bedroom, frowning. He closes his eyes again. The scene resets.
"Yes," Gerard says magnanimously. And at that, Frank leans up and cautiously--
No. Frank wouldn't be cautious, he wasn't cautious when he kissed Gerard before. Frank's kissed enough people, after all, he doesn't have to worry about whether or not he'll do it right.
Gerard sighs heavily. He opens his eyes again and sits up.
There's the soft whirr of the ceiling fan and the sound of Mikey's breath to keep the room from being perfectly silent, but Gerard's movements getting out of bed are still too loud. When he stands up, Gerard barks his shin against the table next to his bed. He curses automatically, then freezes in place. Mikey doesn't even turn over. Gerard moves again, cautiously toeing through the mess on their floor.
The bathroom is even quieter than the bedroom. Gerard's piss is loud when it hits the water. When he flushes, it fills the bathroom with sound.
Gerard flips the toilet lid down and sits. He puts his elbows on his knees and his chin on the heels of his hands.
Gerard can't stop thinking about Frank, what Frank's done, who he's kissed and sucked and touched. Gerard's not really that upset about it. Not exactly. Turned on, maybe, from the thought of Kyle on his knees in front of Frank. Frank's dick is probably normal-sized, Gerard thinks. Maybe smaller than Gerard's, because he's so short and so young. Kyle is kind of tall; he must have had to fold himself down really small in order to get himself to the right level. Gerard wonders where they did it, if it was in the bathroom or in a bedroom. He wonders what Frank's face looks like when he's getting his dick sucked, if it's anything like what he looks like when he's kissing.
Gerard shifts one of his hands from supporting his chin to squeeze his dick absentmindedly, half indulging the twitch it gives, half warning it not to get hard. Doing that has never really worked before, when he's tried at school, but he's tired enough now that it seems to do the trick.
Gerard sighs again and sits back against the toilet tank. It's all Frank's stupid fucking fault, anyway. Gerard had assumed that he would never get laid at Fordhaven. And it's still true, at least for Gerard. Frank can get laid; Gerard can't. Frank's example makes Gerard think that he ought to be able to get laid, though, that Gerard ought to be pretty enough and suave enough to get someone like Kyle to suck his dick.
He isn't, though. Gerard just has to remember that.
Gerard sighs heavily and leans his head back against the wall. He closes his eyes and thinks of Mr. Fackenthal, how he would say, “The winner of the two-dimensional art prize for this year is Mr. Gerard Way!”
---
"Are you sleeping on the fucking toilet?" Mikey asks, and Gerard jerks awake. His neck twinges, and he yelps and falls off the toilet. He checks his hip off of the bathtub and his head off of the toilet tank. He just lies where he fell on the tile, groaning.
"Fuck you," Gerard finally gets out.
"Get out of the fucking bathroom before I pee on your fucking head," Mikey says.
"I hope you fall down and fucking die," Gerard says, and drags himself up and goes to make coffee.
When Mikey stumbles upstairs, the pot has just finished brewing. Gerard hands him his cup, already perfectly made. Mikey snarls at him, and Gerard snarls back. "Fucking fuck off, asshole," Gerard says.
"Eat fucking dick, you fucking jerk," Mikey says. Gerard kicks Mikey in the knee, and then they both sit down at the kitchen counter to drink their coffee.
Their mom gets up about fifteen minutes later. They can hear her bustling around, getting ready for work. They both get up from the counter when they hear her finish with her make-up, escaping with their second cups of coffee before she can get down into the kitchen. Their feet thump in chorus on the stairs back down to the basement. "Fucking mom," Mikey says, and Gerard grunts his agreement.
By the bottom of his second mug of coffee, Gerard is able to register something other than morning and fucking fuck the fucking goddamn son of a bitch bastards. He grimaces at Mikey, who grimaces back.
"I need more fucking coffee," Mikey says.
Gerard slurps down the sugary sludge at the bottom of his cup. "We're getting more," he says, after he's swallowed the dregs.
There's a coffee place in between school and home, which is pretty much the only reason why Gerard goes to school every day. Well, that, and Mikey usually is going, which convinces Gerard to go. Gerard's attendance record was a lot worse before Mikey started his freshman year.
They bury their faces in their coffee cups on the way over, Gerard occasionally turning his face away from the rim of the cup to smoke his morning cigarette. By the time they get there, Gerard is feeling almost-human, and Mikey has stopped prefacing every noun with "fucking." That still isn't great, but at least by this point they can both keep from telling their teachers to suck dick and die.
"I hate school," Mikey grunts. Gerard heaves open the front door of the school for Mikey, then follows him through.
Frank's standing in the front hall. He's doing something with the strap of his bag, fixing it or something, and he doesn't see them right away. Gerard stops in his tracks. "I gotta go," he says, and turns back around.
Mikey sighs heavily, but he doesn't stop Gerard from leaving.
Gerard smokes another cigarette on the front steps. He's five minutes late to homeroom, but at least he doesn't have to have to talk to Frank just yet.
---
Frank comes down to eat lunch with Mikey, because God hates Gerard and wants him to be unhappy. Gerard thought about eating lunch somewhere else, of course, but the only other place he can eat in peace is outside, and it's too cold to do that.
Gerard stationed himself on the side of the table that’s facing the door, so he could see them coming. When he sees them coming down the hall, he pretends to be really engrossed in his conversation with Ray, so that they’re busy talking about something when Frank and Mikey come in. Gerard looks at Frank, though -- of course he does, he can't not -- and when Frank catches Gerard's eye he grins and ducks his head. It's like Frank knows a secret about Gerard; a good secret, one that turns Frank's cheeks pink and makes him bite his lip in the middle of his smile. Gerard's stomach twists, and he concentrates on his conversation with Ray twice as hard. His life sucks.
During lunch, Frank keeps getting into Gerard's space. While they're eating, he leans over Gerard to poke Ray, or folds himself over the edge of the table to look at Matt's pudding. Gerard doesn't mean to look, doesn't even want to torture himself, but Frank is there. Bending. Gerard would challenge a nun not to look.
When they start the campaign up, it's even worse. Frank doesn't know what he's doing, and he keeps asking Gerard for help. That's to be expected, sure, but Gerard's pretty sure Frank must know some of this stuff. How can you go your whole life without understanding what die to roll to battle a ghoul? For fuck’s sake, seriously.
"Wait," Frank says. Gerard fails to repress a sigh. "Shut up, asswipe," Frank snipes.
"What is it this time?" Gerard asks.
Frank slides his character sheet in front of Gerard and leans over it. "This," he says, and puts his finger underneath something on his sheet. The only way Gerard can look at the sheet too is if he presses his chest against Frank's shoulder. Gerard tries to hold himself stiffly, but Frank is warm and soft.
"Can I use this on the ghoul?" Frank asks, and glances back over his shoulder, even though Gerard is right there. Frank meets Gerard's eyes, drops his eyes down to Gerard's mouth, and bites his lip again. He's going to need chapstick later, Gerard thinks, and doesn't imagine Frank applying it at all.
"You guys need a moment?" Matt asks. Gerard startles back, away from Frank. Frank looks across the table at Matt, and Matt puts up his hands. "Whoa there, just wondering," he says.
"We're good," Gerard says. "No, Frank, you can't use a tiara on a ghoul."
"Fuck," Frank says, and giggles.
"How did that get on your sheet?" Gerard asks suspiciously, but Frank just giggles again.
Frank doesn't slide his sheet away, and he spends the rest of the lunch period leaning sideways, into Gerard's space. Frank's sides are pudgy under his uniform shirt. They look really soft, and Frank is radiating warmth. Gerard wants to dig his fingers into Frank's love handles and rub himself off against Frank's ass. Gerard is a dirty old man, and Frank is a sex fiend, and life is seriously fucking unfair.
---
Gerard has gym after lunch. Ray and Matt have something else, something more fun, so Gerard has to walk the mile by himself, steadfastly ignoring the jeers and nasty looks from his classmates. He fucking hates gym.
While he walks, Gerard thinks about being slender. He'd have long dark hair, and he'd wear a black velvet suit. He would have a cane, too, a really badass cane that's also a sword, but not like the chintzy ones they sell at the mall. Gerard imagines himself tapping his sword-cane against the cobblestones as he walks down a street. With a guilty twist in his stomach, Gerard thinks about Frank the street urchin, selling papers. Frank would look with dark eyes at Gerard's body as Gerard tap, tap, taps away down the street, Gerard thinks.
"Wide loads take the outside," James says, and slams his shoulder against Gerard's as he runs past. Gerard stumbles into another kid, who grumbles and shoves his shoulder. Gerard weaves between two other runners and gets into the outside lane.
One day he would stop to talk to urchin Frank about the news, Gerard thinks, and Frank would smile at Gerard, wide and bright. Will you come back to mine? Gerard would say, and Frank would say Yes.
Gerard can't pursue that thought any further, not unless he wants to get a random boner on the track, so he switches to thinking about the drawing of a faerie that he was dicking around with a couple of weeks ago, whether or not he should color her wings in or leave them black and white.
"Gerard," Ms. Reed says, "You have to finish the mile before the end of the period." Gerard nods distractedly and looks down at his watch. He can stretch the last two laps out over ten minutes, definitely. He slows down.
---
Gerard skips the shower -- it's asking for trouble, getting naked and wet around a bunch of guys who want an excuse to beat him up -- but it means he smells like ass when Frank comes and finds him during club period. Gerard normally wouldn't care what he smells like, but Frank is all up in his space.
"What's up?" Frank says. He wrinkles his nose. "You smell rancid."
"Shut up," Gerard says. He takes a step back. "Sorry. I had gym."
"Whatever," Frank says. He bounces on his toes once or twice, like he's waiting for Gerard to say something. Gerard doesn't know what to say. "Maybe I could come over today?" Frank asks, finally.
"Why don't you ask Mikey?" Gerard asks.
Frank smile gets bigger, which is just weird; Gerard didn't say anything worth smiling about. Frank bounces on his toes a few more times and says, "Oh, oh, no, I didn't even think. I mean, I talked to Mikey already, sure."
"Is this about--" Gerard says, and gestures between them. He glances behind him, but no one's coming down the stairs. "The kiss thing," he says, dropping his voice. "Because I told you--"
Frank looks away. "No!" he says. "Oh, no, not at all. Oh man, you thought-- no, no way, God. No, I just thought you'd want to teach me more about the game, or whatever."
Gerard deflates a little. He thought maybe Frank had been thinking about the kiss, like maybe Gerard was different from all the other guys. No such luck. "No, you're good," he says. "Why would I teach you more about the game?" he asks, after a beat.
"I don't know, maybe you would, or something," Frank says. He's still grinning, which is just fucking weird. "I guess I'll take off, then."
"Okay," Gerard says.
"Okay, bye," Frank says, and turns around. "Oh," he says, and turns back around. "Can I have the picture of the character?"
"Yeah, I'm going to color it tonight," Gerard says, and abruptly feels even more miserable. He's just going to torture himself if he colors it tonight, but now he has to. "I'll bring it to lunch tomorrow."
"Okay, yeah," Frank says, backing away. "See you."
"Okay, see you," Gerard says. He waits until Frank turns the corner at the end of the hall to bounce his head off of the wall.
---
"Did you talk to Frank?" Gerard asks, on their way home.
"No," Mikey says, and blinks at Gerard a few times.
"He said he'd talked to you," Gerard says. "About coming over."
"Oh." Mikey blinks a few more times. "Maybe he did."
"Probably," Gerard says. "Whatever. Can you not have him over for a little while?"
Mikey shrugs. After a couple of steps, he bumps his shoulder against Gerard's once, a companionable sort of sympathy.
"Thanks," Gerard mumbles, quiet enough that Mikey can pretend he didn't hear.
---
Mikey gives Gerard seven days. He'd probably give Gerard even longer, but Gerard doesn't want Mikey to lose a new friend, just because he happens to be related to a massive loser. Gerard tells Mikey that it's cool if Frank comes over again. Mikey brings Frank home with him the next night.
Gerard spends the entire time at his desk, working on sketches with his headphones on. Frank doesn’t bother Gerard, but he stays and stays and stays, until Gerard’s about ready to scream.
Finally, Mikey and Frank go upstairs, and Gerard can take off his headphones. When Mikey comes thumping downstairs from letting Frank out, Gerard mutters, “Fucking Christ, I thought he was going to stay overnight.”
“I told him not to kiss you again,” Mikey says.
Gerard looks up from his computer. He and Mikey stare at one another.
“Can you make me a drink?” Gerard asks.
Mikey shrugs and goes over to their liquor stash. “Vodka and ginger okay?” Mikey says.
Gerard looks up from lighting a cigarette and jerks his shoulders in an affirmative shrug. Mikey gets down the vodka -- it’s dwindling, Gerard had better score another handle -- and rolls the bottle of ginger ale out from under Gerard’s bed with his foot.
“What’d you tell him?” Gerard asks, like it doesn’t much matter to him.
Mikey sets out two Solo cups and uncaps the vodka. “I told him you weren’t into him,” he says.
Gerard chews on his lip, and then offers, “You didn’t have to lie.” He’s pretty glad Mikey did, though. It makes Gerard sound cool, or at least cooler than he is.
“I figured it was better if I didn’t call him a slut,” Mikey answers, and Gerard nods. Mikey’s probably right about that.
Mikey slugs a couple of shots into the first cup and a couple more into the second, the bottle glugging quietly. He sets down the handle and stoops down to pick up the ginger ale. The bottle hisses when Mikey twists the cap, and Gerard startles out of his daze. “Thanks,” Gerard says. Mikey doesn’t respond. When Mikey hands Gerard his drink, Gerard repeats himself, and that time Mikey gives him a jerky nod and a smile.
---
If Gerard really focuses, he’s pretty okay at acting. He's not great at acting like other people, really -- he kind of overdoes it -- but if he pays attention he can totally act like himself.
For the next couple of weeks, Gerard focuses on acting like the version of himself who doesn’t want to have illegal sex with Frank. Gerard looks away every time Frank bends over, and he gets up and moves whenever Frank is in his space. He pretends not to notice stuff about Frank, and doesn’t get even remotely excited when Frank tells them about his plans for his birthday (even though it’s on Halloween, and that’s just fucking cool).
It gets tougher on the third week. Frank starts to hang off this guy in the sophomore class, who Mikey says is named Bob. Bob is blond, and blue-eyed, and way hotter than Gerard. Even worse, Bob is either gay, or doesn’t give a shit if people say he’s gay, because he lets Frank crawl all over him. Bob hangs out with Frank while Frank hands out more gay-ass fliers, and he shoves a couple of the guys who call Frank a faggot.
Bob seems like a nice enough dude, Gerard will allow that. That doesn’t mean Gerard has to like him. And it doesn’t mean that Gerard has to let him hang out with them during lunch, for fuck’s sake.
“Dude,” Frank says, “You’re being a douche.”
“I’m just saying,” Gerard says. “Pretty soon we’re going to have the whole fucking school down here.”
Mikey folds his arms and frowns, like no we’re not. Gerard points at him and says, “Shut up, asshole, you’re the one who keeps bringing people.”
“He didn’t say anything,” Frank says.
“Fuck you,” Gerard tells Frank. “He did. And he can stop saying it, okay?”
“Should I leave?” Bob asks. He looks kind of confused.
Frank and Ray chorus, “No," before Gerard can answer.
Mikey shrugs elaborately at Gerard and looks away, like you’re just flipping about Frank’s boyfriend.
“Fuck you!” Gerard says. “I am not!”
“They always do this,” Ray tells Frank and Bob.
Mikey rolls his eyes, like that’s because Gerard’s always dumb.
“No, I am not,” Gerard says. “We have too many people down here. I am right this time, I am totally right.”
Mikey looks over at Frank and back at Gerard, like Are you sure this isn’t like the skateboard thing? Which is so out of line, because okay, Gerard was flipping out about not being able to get a skateboard because he was cranky about school, fine, but that was one fucking time, and that was an extremely specific instance.
“Shut up,” Gerard says. “This is nothing like the skateboard thing.”
Mikey shakes his head and smirks, and that, that is just fucking low.
“Oh, you really think so, huh? Fuck you, asshole,” Gerard says. “Whatever, fuck all of you, I’m going outside. Have fun trying to play without a mod.”
Gerard grabs his backpack, bangs open the door, and slams it shut behind him. He stomps down the stairs and over to the edge of school grounds, right by the hedge.
He smokes two cigarettes before the door creaks open again.
“Fuck you,” Gerard calls, and lights another one. When Gerard looks up, though, it’s not Mikey. It’s Frank. “What the fuck do you want?” Gerard asks.
Frank doesn’t answer. He comes over and drops down next to Gerard, scattering gravel and making the hedge rustle, and leans against Gerard’s arm.
“Don’t you want to hang out with your boyfriend?” Gerard asks. He doesn’t look over at Frank, even when Frank bumps his toes against Gerard’s.
“Bob’s not my boyfriend,” Frank says. “I mean,” he adds, when Gerard gives him a startled look, “Not really.”
Gerard doesn’t say anything. He feels kind of relieved, because they’re not really boyfriends, but kind of sick, because not really. That doesn’t mean Mikey was right, though. They totally have way too many people hanging out in the art room now. Fack might get mad.
Gerard says that, since it’s a reasonable point. “I just don’t want everyone down here. Fack could get mad if we have, like, a rave down in the art room.”
“It’s not a rave,” Frank says, “It’s just Bob.” Frank giggles at his own joke. Gerard smiles in spite of himself, which means he’s off-guard when Frank snatches at the cigarette in Gerard’s mouth. Frank almost gets it, even, but Gerard leans away just in time. Frank makes a sad noise.
“I’m not giving you a cigarette,” Gerard says.
“Please?” Frank says. He puts his chin on Gerard’s shoulder. Gerard can feel Frank looking at him, staring at his ear. It’s fucking irritating. That’s the only reason why Gerard gives in, though, absolutely the only reason.
Frank squeals when Gerard pulls the cigarette out of his pack, and Gerard elbows him in the side. ”Shut up,” Gerard says. “I’m still pissed that you brought Bob.”
“Whatever, you don’t care at all,” Frank says. “You’re just PMSing.”
“I’m not a girl,” Gerard says, and slaps Frank’s knee. Frank slaps back, but then he leans into Gerard’s side again, making a comfortable noise. “Fuck you, I’m still pissed,” Gerard says.
”Okay, okay. You’re still pissed,” Frank says. He leans his head against Gerard’s shoulder, then, like he's the one who’s a girl, and Gerard’s his boyfriend.
If Gerard were Frank’s boyfriend, and Frank were a girl, and they were on a bus on a field trip or something, Gerard would let Frank lie on his lap, and Gerard would play with Frank’s hair. They’re not, though, they’re not any of that, so Gerard doesn’t move or say anything. Gerard acts like he’s the version of himself that doesn’t even notice Frank’s leaning on him, who doesn’t want to hold Frank’s hand and touch his hair.
Frank sits up after a minute, anyway, and says, “C’mon, let’s go back inside.”
“Whatever,” Gerard says, but he levers himself to his feet.
Bob turns out to be not just okay, but actually pretty cool, although Gerard doesn’t say that. Matt doesn’t seem to like Bob, but Gerard privately thinks that’s because Bob does Matt’s big-silent-dude-who-sometimes-makes-crude-jokes thing with more flair. By the end of lunch, Gerard is at least okay with the idea that Bob might join them in the future. He even says so.
”Thanks,” Bob says. He’s smirking, but he claps Gerard on the back like Gerard is a dude or something, so Gerard just figures that’s how Bob smiles.
Before they leave the art room, Gerard puts his arm around Mikey’s shoulders, like sorry. Mikey smiles and puts his arm around Gerard’s waist, like okay.
So Frank and Gerard are fine, and Gerard and Mikey are fine, and Gerard and Bob are fine, and Frank and Bob are supposedly not boyfriends. Gerard is still suspicious about that last one. Bob laughs at Frank’s jokes, which are kind of not that funny, and Bob lets Frank climb on him, even though Frank is kind of heavy. Frank is always grinning at Bob, too, looking at him and smiling for no reason.
Gerard just thinks that people should be open about their relationships, though. If Frank is going to stop being the school's gay recruitment chair and settle down, he should, like, own that. Gerard attempts to explain this to Mikey while they’re walking home, but Mikey just smiles at him until Gerard sputters and gives up.
Gerard’s little brother is an asshole.
---
Gerard doesn’t have good days at school. Every single day at school is a shitty day; it’s just a question of degree. Thursday, though, is three hundred and sixty degrees of shittiness. Thursday is a full revolution of shit.
Gerard has gym first period, which is already, okay, at least a hundred degrees right there. Today, though, James yanks down Gerard’s shorts during volleyball. Everyone sees his stupid tighty-whities, and everyone laughs. Even the fucking teacher. Gerard pulls up his shorts and tries to laugh along, like his mom is always telling him to do, but it doesn’t seem to help at all.
Then, then Ms. Reed holds Gerard after to talk to him about his “lack of effort” and “poor attitude.” It’s like she didn’t even fucking notice that Gerard was fucking humiliated today. Gerard doesn’t say anything, because there's no fucking point; he just nods and mumbles when she pauses for air. When she finally lets him go, Gerard gets into the locker room just as the other guys are getting back from showering.
The guys pick up right where they left off, teasing him about his "panties," snapping the waistband and saying stuff about his hips and thighs, how he’s curvy like a girl. Gerard tries to hunch his shoulders and ignore them, but once they’ve noticed him they never stop.
“Aren’t you going to shower?” Paul asks. Gerard doesn’t answer. “Jesus, no wonder you smell like fucking garbage all the time.”
“Oh, that’s nasty, man, you’ve got to shower,” James says, pitching his voice so he sounds like he’s being nice.
“Are you going to melt?” Chris asks.
James answers, “No, he’s scared he’s going to get a hard-on if he goes in where we shower.”
“Oh, gross!” “That’s nasty!” “Fucking fag!”
Gerard digs blindly for his clothes, biting his lip. He can see Paul looking at him. Paul looks like he's calculating. Paul could drag Gerard in there, if he decided to. Paul is bigger than Gerard, stronger. If the boys ganged up, they could make Gerard do it, take off his clothes and make him stand there and shower in front of them. They could make him do anything. Gerard's stomach turns; he's half-sick and half-turned-on, his skin prickling hot from the humiliation.
Gerard yanks his towel out, instead of his clothes. He wraps it around his waist, then goes to pull his underwear off from underneath it.
“Oh, c’mon, you scared we’ll see how small your dick is?” Paul says. He’s grinning.
Gerard mumbles, “Fuck you,” and tries to push past Paul.
“No, c’mon, man, we’re all guys here,” Paul says, and catches his elbow.
“What, you really want to see my dick?” Gerard asks. He yanks his arm away from Paul. Paul’s expression darkens, his hand curls into a fist. Everyone’s laughter rises around them, loud and raucous, and someone is already chanting fight, fight.
Gerard panics. He runs for the showers.
Their laughter follows him, Paul’s voice rising as he says something else, something Gerard can’t quite make out over the rush of his heartbeat in his ears. Gerard fumbles for the curtain on one of the single stalls, presses himself against the side of the wall and turns the water on to drown out their voices.
The water is frigid, no matter how Gerard twists at the knob. His dick feels like it’s trying to fold up inside his body, and his gut is twisting up inside him. His hands are shaking when he rubs his heavy bar of soap under his armpits; his fingers slip off of the dial the first time that he tries to shut off the water. Gerard edges out of the stall, grabs his towel and wraps it around his waist, tight, until it bites into his sides.
Gerard hates that he’s scared, and that he’s fat and fucking useless in a fight. He hates that he showered when they told him to, like he has to listen to them when they tell him what to do. Gerard hates it, all of it, hates himself.
Gerard peeks around the corner before he ventures back into the locker room. His locker is unmolested, and everyone seems to have left; they could be hiding, waiting for him, but he has to risk it. He redresses with shaking fingers, breathing hard and wincing every time he hears a noise. He flees as soon as he can, shoving his gym stuff haphazardly in his locker and slinging his bag over his shoulder as he walks out.
Gerard can’t go to math, not after that. He just can’t. Ray and Matt will have to cover for him, or he’ll just have to get in trouble. Gerard doesn’t fucking care anymore, really. He goes down to the art wing, cutting through the hallways that people are less likely to be in, and grabs his sketchbook. After a moment’s hesitation, Gerard heads for the bathroom that's closest to Fack's studio. It’s chillier in the bathroom than in the rest of the school, somehow, and it smells like piss and disinfectant. Better than math, though, and better than the locker room.
Gerard locks himself in the stall furthest from the door. He sits on the edge of the toilet, and flips his sketchbook open to a clean page in the back. He sits there with the page in front of him, just looking at it. He rubs his eyes, then rubs them harder when he realizes that they’re a little wet. He’s such a fucking baby. He wipes his eyes roughly with one sleeve and sniffles, just to clear out his nose. The sniff is loud in the quiet bathroom. Gerard takes a deep breath in and lets it whoosh out. He can breathe as loud as he wants to, in here. No one’s in here besides him.
FUCK THIS FUCKING PLACE, Gerard writes, at the top of the page.
A couple of voices rise in the hallway, and Gerard folds his knees up, putting his feet on the edge of the toilet and pressing the sketchbook against his chest. He waits for a long second, but it doesn’t sound like anyone’s coming in. He puts his feet gingerly back on the floor. He sketches out a couple of shapes, just doodling; they slowly grow into monsters, with big teeth and huge, vicious-looking claws. He draws Paul in next to one of the monsters, his head hanging lopsided off of his neck, blood spurting out of the stump. After a moment, Gerard darkens the front of Paul’s pants, makes them wet with blood and piss.
Gerard draws a few more horrific decapitations and maimings, until his hands stop shaking. Then he rips out the page and tears it into strips. He drops it behind him, into the toilet, and flushes. The last thing he needs is to get pulled in for being a psychopath, really.
EVERYTHING IS JUST FINE, he writes at the top of the next page. He drew so hard on the previous page that the outlines of his monsters are imprinted on this one. Gerard draws a unicorn over them, an easy drawing that he’s always doing for Mikey.
By the time he’s sure that no one would be able to figure out what he was drawing, Gerard’s lost most of the edge of his embarrassment and his anger. Gerard unlocks the stall door, peeking out to make sure that he’s still alone, and opens the frosted-glass window. He lights a cigarette and leans against the wall, smoking slowly. No one comes in.
Eventually Gerard goes back, when math is over and it’s time for history. History is all right.
---
“Where were you today?” Ray asks. He dumps his bag on the table. The edge of it bangs against Gerard’s sketchpad, and Gerard straightens the pad out again with an irritated motion.
“Nowhere,” Gerard says. “Just didn’t feel like putting up with Ms. Mirkin’s shit.”
“We had a test,” Ray says.
Gerard’s stomach drops and his lungs seize up, but he just shrugs his shoulders. After a beat, he manages to get out, “Oh well. Not like I would have passed it.”
Ray looks worried, and now everyone else is paying attention.
“Mom’s going to be mad,” Mikey points out.
Gerard shrugs again. “I’ll figure it out,” he says dully. He’s so fucking stupid, it’s not like it matters anyway.
“Wait, why did you miss?” Frank asks.
“Just. Stuff,” Gerard says. He gets up. “I have to pee, I’ll be right back.”
Gerard goes into the art wing bathroom. He goes to the furthest stall. He locks the door, and then he kicks the wall, hard enough that there’s a scuff mark on the tile. He sits down heavily on the edge of the toilet and buries his face in his hands.
“Fuck,” he says.
He missed a fucking test, of course he did. He couldn’t stand up for himself, and he skipped class, and he missed a test. Ms. Mirkin will fail him, and the head will pull him in for another talking-to, and his mom is going to be so pissed. Worse, she’s going to be disappointed. Gerard’s a fat fucking failure, and there’s no fucking hope.
Gerard’s sniffles echo off of the tile. He folds his arms and buries his face against them, thinking déjà fucking vu.
This time, though, the door to the bathroom swings open. “Gerard?” Mikey asks cautiously.
Gerard says, “In here.” Mikey’s shoes come to the other side of the stall door and stop. “Go away,” Gerard adds.
Then another pair of shoes join Mikey’s.
“Who’s that?” Gerard asks, and drags his sleeve under his nose. There’s no answer, just a thump and a scrabbling noise against the metal door. Gerard jerks back, but apparently it was just Frank jumping for the top of the stall door. Frank's face and hands appear at the top of the stall door, and then Frank levers himself up and swings his legs over. He teeters at the top and falls off, landing in an ungraceful heap on the other side.
“You could have gone under the door,” Mikey points out.
“You could have asked me to open it,” Gerard says.
Frank just grins. “That was more fun,” he says. He gets up off of the floor and climbs into Gerard’s lap.
“Get the fuck off me,” Gerard says. He shoves Frank, hard, but Frank just braces one foot on the floor and shoves his fat ass onto Gerard's lap.
“It’s okay, I’m a fag,” Frank says. “We’re touchy, that’s what we do.”
“What the fuck?” Gerard says. He hears Mikey start to snigger. Frank just wiggles until Gerard lets him settle on his lap, wraps his arms around Gerard’s shoulders, and plants his face in the side of Gerard’s neck. He’s warm, and a little sweaty. His uniform jacket is scraping the underside of Gerard’s chin. “What the fuck?” Gerard repeats.
“Is he doing the thing?” Mikey asks.
Gerard leans forward to unlock the door. Frank still doesn’t fall off. He clings tighter. Gerard gets the door open and leans back again. Frank slides a little, but he doesn’t let go of Gerard’s neck, and Gerard has to put his arms around Frank’s middle to hitch him back into place.
Mikey peeks around the edge of the stall door. “Yeah,” he says, “He’s doing the thing.”
“When did you become friends with him?” Gerard asks. “I keep thinking that, like, I didn’t know him before he was locker guy.”
“That was kind of when we bonded, yeah,” Mikey says. “Before that I just got the notes for math from him.” Frank huffs a laugh against Gerard’s neck, but he doesn’t add anything.
“Wait, okay, Frank. What are you doing?” Gerard asks, trying to crane his head around to catch Frank’s eyes. It’s impossible.
“Being a big homo,” Frank says, muffled against Gerard's neck. He pulls his head back to add, “Omigoooood, guys, let’s get makeovers.” Mikey sniggers harder.
“Stop being a fucking tool,” Gerard says. “I’m having a bad day.”
“That’s why we need makeovers, sweetiepie. What do you think, mani-pedi? I like pink and chartreuse for a French manicure,” Frank lisps, ignoring Gerard’s scowl. Frank leans back, finally, but doesn’t take his arms from around Gerard’s neck. “And baby, I mean it, you need some highlights. Girl, you are looking so pasty.”
“Oh my god,” Gerard says. He ducks his head to hide the smile that’s threatening.
“Omigooooood,” Frank agrees, and giggles. Gerard has to turn his face into Frank’s armpit to stifle his laugh. He has a feeling Frank knows he’s laughing anyway, because Frank repeats, “Omigooooood” again.
“You are such an asshole,” Gerard tells him, but he squeezes Frank’s middle, keeping Frank on his lap.
“What happened?” Mikey says, blunt like he always is. Gerard feels his cheeks heat, and he ducks his head again.
“Nothing,” he says. “Just. Some stupid stuff in gym, whatever.”
“Who was it?” Frank asks. “I’ll beat them up. I’ve got mighty morphin’ fag powers.”
“Shut up,” Gerard says, but he doesn’t mean it. Mikey grins at him, and Gerard manages a good, real smile back. “It was just Paul and them. They made fun of me, and I just. I don’t know.” He glances over at Frank, embarrassed.
“One time these boys at summer camp put my underwear on my head and made me recite the alphabet backwards over and over until I did it perfect,” Frank blurts. Gerard looks at Frank again, surprised. Frank’s pink-cheeked, but he nods.
“Remember that time Bobby used me for a sled?” Mikey asks. He shoves up his glasses with the back of his hand. Gerard snorts and nods. His stomach is still twisting around, but he feels a little better, kind of. “That sucked. I let him do it twice, too,” Mikey tells Frank. Frank hoots with sympathetic laughter.
“They told me to shower,” Gerard says. He coughs, embarrassed. "I thought Paul was going to punch me, and so I like, I ran for the shower, you know?"
Frank grins at him. He’s close, so close, and he’s being so sweet. Gerard wants to kiss him. “That sucks,” Frank whispers. “Showering is so lame.” Gerard can’t help but smile back, and there’s a breath, a moment, where Gerard thinks that they’ll kiss again, even with his brother right there.
“C’mon,” Gerard says abruptly, and looks away. “I’ll give you a cigarette.”
Frank whoops and scrambles off of Gerard’s lap. Mikey throws Gerard a sharp look, but Gerard refuses to catch it.
---
Frank comes in to lunch on Friday with one eye swollen nearly shut.
"Dude," Matt says. "Nice bruise." He and Frank high-five, because apparently they're cavemen and think hitting is cool.
"What did you do?" Gerard asks.
Frank turns to face him. "I didn't do anything," he says. Gerard scoffs.
The bruise is kind of pink-purple when Gerard peers at it. It's mostly swelling now, but it's probably going to become a proper black eye sometime soon, when the swelling starts to go down. Gerard says as much. Frank grins, and his bruised eye squinches all the way shut. It shouldn't be cute.
"What did you run into?" Gerard asks, which is when Mikey comes in.
"Dude!" Mikey says. Gerard blinks. Mikey never gets excited during school hours. "Fucking awesome!" Mikey yells. He and Frank high-five as well.
"Would someone tell me what's going on?" Gerard says plaintively.
Mikey grins at him. "Frank beat Paul up."
"I think I beat him down, actually," Frank says. He and Mikey giggle in unison, like fucking losers.
"Why did Frank beat up Paul?" Gerard asks. He sounds like the tapes his French teacher plays for them, wooden and over-enunciated.
Mikey rolls his eyes. "Because Paul was an asshole to you, remember? Yesterday?"
"Shut up," Gerard says automatically. It comes out kind of like a valley girl, though, because his mind is completely fucking blown.
Frank shoves Mikey's shoulder and mutters, "He's an asshole to everyone."
Gerard opens his mouth to say something else. He stands there with his mouth open for a couple of seconds, then shuts it. He opens it again and manages, "Wow?"
"Paul's a dick," Frank says defensively. "I didn't like him before, anyway."
"Frank called him a cockmunch and Paul hit him," Mikey says triumphantly. "And then Frank tripped him and punched him in the stomach and then Paul tried to headbutt him but Frank kicked Paul in the crotch and Paul cried." It's the most that Gerard has ever heard Mikey say while on school property, including when he ran for class secretary and had to give a speech.
"You shouldn't fight people," Gerard says, "Fighting is wrong." Gerard was really going to be more discouraging about it, but then Frank blushes and ducks his head, and Mikey says, "In the crotch!" and Gerard grins helplessly. "Dude," Gerard says. "Dude, you beat up Paul."
"He was a dick," Frank says. "I told you I have mighty morphin' fag powers."
"He got beat down by a fag freshman," Mikey says, and he and Frank high-five and giggle again.
"Did he really cry?" Matt asks.
"I kicked his balls pretty hard," Frank admits.
And that's when Ray walks in to join them. Ray has to hear the whole story, of course, and Frank has to reenact it for them with Mikey's commentary ("in the crotch!") and Ray has to express disbelief approximately eighty-four billion times.
"No way," Ray says. "This is crazy. You have to be lying."
"He totally beat him up," Mikey says. He's slowly getting his monotone back, but it's not quite there yet.
"Dude," Ray says, impressed.
Gerard has maybe been staring at Frank for a while -- Frank beat a guy up for him, Gerard is sure some staring is allowed -- and so he's the first to notice when Frank's lip cracks open. "Your lip is bleeding," Gerard says helpfully.
Frank touches his lip and winces. "I guess he must have got me with that headbutt," he says.
"C'mon," Gerard says, and hops down from his stool. He holds out his hand. Frank just looks at it quizzically, and Gerard sighs. "You need to wash it, Paul might have the herp."
"You can't get herp from a headbutt," Frank says, but he lets Gerard tug him out of the room and into the bathroom. Before the door swings shut, Gerard can hear Mikey going back to telling Ray that no, really, in the crotch.
The bathroom is silent. Gerard runs a little lukewarm water and wets a paper towel. He presses it to Frank's bloody lip. "I guess you could go to the nurse," he says, apologetically.
"I hate the nurse," Frank mumbles.
"He's a pain in the ass," Gerard agrees. "He never lets me stay out of class when I really need to."
After a beat, Frank brings his hand and presses it over the paper towel. His fingers bump against Gerard's before Gerard takes his hand away. Gerard backs away and leans his butt against the edge of the sink behind him.
"You beat up Paul," Gerard says, and grins down at his shoes. "Violence isn't the answer, Frank, but. But that's really cool."
"Shut up," Frank says. When Gerard looks up at him, Frank is bright pink again.
Gerard says, "I just never had anyone beaten up for me before. Not even a little bit. You're-- I mean, you're my hero." It comes out a lot more earnest than Gerard means it to, but he doesn't qualify it. Frank kind of is his hero, right now.
Frank huffs out a laugh, then pulls away the paper towel. "Whatever, I'm not that cool," he says. He moves towards the sinks, leaning slightly sideways to check his lip in the mirror behind Gerard. Gerard reaches for Frank's hip to pull him closer, take a look for himself, but Frank must misread his body language, because he comes closer, too close, and then they're kissing.
Frank's mouth tastes like blood, kind of sharp and gross, but he's making those noises like he did before and grabbing at Gerard's shoulders. Gerard should stop, obviously he should stop, but he doesn't; he hauls Frank up against his body and digs his fingers into Frank's love handles. They're as soft as Gerard thought they would be, and Frank is still incredibly warm. It feels really good to kiss him.
Gerard is doing a shitty job of acting like the version of himself who doesn't want to have illegal sex with Frank, right now. Gerard is aware that his acting is not up to par. Gerard should really stop.
Frank gasps against his mouth when Gerard pulls their hips together. Gerard has no idea what he's doing to make Frank gasp, but he wants to keep doing it, he doesn't want to stop, he never wants to stop.
"Guys-- whoa!"
Gerard pulls back and looks at the door, embarrassed. Ray is staring at them, his hand stalled on the doorknob. Frank doesn't stop kissing Gerard, even though Gerard's taken his mouth away. His busted lip drags against Gerard's neck, and Gerard closes his eyes and makes a genuinely embarrassing noise.
"I'll talk to you later!" Ray says, and the door finally falls shut. Frank giggles against Gerard's neck.
Gerard should stop then, should take Ray walking in as a sign. He almost does, too. Then Frank bites down on his neck, hard, and the pain makes Gerard's throat seize up. All Gerard can do is tilt his head back and to the side, wanting Frank to do it again.
"Let me?" Frank asks. It's so a line from a Lifetime movie -- not that Gerard watches them -- and Gerard would laugh at him if Frank didn't have his hand pressed against the fly of Gerard's pants.
"I-- fuck, we shouldn't--" Gerard gets out.
"You're right, c'mon," Frank says.
"I mean--" Gerard starts, but Frank is just tugging him into the first stall and flipping the lock shut behind them.
Gerard wasn't expecting this, when he came into school today. Fuck, Gerard wasn't going to come into school today. "I am so glad I came to school today," Gerard tells Frank, while Frank is wrestling open his fly.
"Me too," Frank says, and puts his hand on Gerard's dick.
"Fnngh," Gerard says. Frank laughs. Gerard would be pissed, but he's busy getting a handjob.
It feels really good. Which, okay, Gerard had a feeling it would, but it feels better than he expected. Frank has this rolling thing he does with his palm that Gerard would never have come up with on his own. He keeps flicking his thumbnail under the head of Gerard's cock, too, which Gerard couldn't do to himself, but feels fucking amazing.
The only downer is that Frank is fucking staring. "What're you looking at?" Gerard asks. Frank flicks his thumbnail again, and Gerard gasps and bangs his head back against the side of the stall.
"You?" Frank answers, like Gerard's the one being stupid.
"Stop it," Gerard says.
"No," Frank says. He's a jerk, but he's a jerk who's jerking Gerard off, so Gerard figures he's not allowed to complain. Gerard shuts his eyes so he can't see Frank watching him, and tries to ignore the fact that he's pretty sure he looks like a moron when he comes.
Frank kisses him, after he wipes his hand off on a piece of toilet paper and tucks Gerard back into his slacks. Gerard is too blissed out to do anything but open his lips and let Frank push his tongue into his mouth. It feels pretty good, still, and Gerard grabs at Frank's ass helpfully.
When Frank pulls back from the kiss, Gerard says, "So, um." Frank just stares at him, one eye squinched up by the bruise. Gerard rolls his eyes and grabs Frank's waistband, ignoring Frank's yelp. He gets the fly of Frank's uniform slacks open, reaches in Frank's underwear, and gets his first-ever handful of someone else's cock.
Then he pulls his hand back out, licks his palm thoroughly, and reaches back in to get his second-ever handful of someone else's cock.
Frank makes a happy noise and thunks his head back against the wall. His hips twitch forward, and Gerard twists his hand helpfully. Frank makes another happy noise. Gerard grins proudly. Handjob king!
Of course Frank has to throw a wrench in Gerard's handjob domination plans about two seconds later. Frank's knees start to shake a little bit, and he slouches down towards the floor. It throws off Gerard's rhythm, and Gerard makes an irritated noise. Frank straightens back up, but a minute later he's doing it again.
"I'm trying to give you a handjob here," Gerard says.
Frank waves his hands helplessly. "I can't focus on my dick when I'm standing up," he says. Gerard looks down at the floor, considering, but Frank says, "Absolutely not."
Gerard huffs. He stops his hand on Frank's dick, ignoring Frank's sounds of pain and agony in favor of thinking about the problem. After a second, he says, "Hey, turn around." He takes his hand off of Frank's dick, to speed up the process. Frank gives him a worried look, but he turns around and faces the opposite wall. "Back up," Gerard says. Frank shuffles back a step, pressing back against Gerard. Gerard wraps one arm around Frank's chest, licks his palm again, and shoves his hand back into Frank's underwear.
"Oh, good idea," Frank says.
"I'm a problem solver," Gerard says, and gets back to stroking Frank's dick.
It's easier like this, just like when Gerard is jerking himself off. This is an improvement, though; when Gerard is jerking off, he doesn't usually have Frank hissing and writhing against him, making needy desperate noises as he thrusts up into Gerard's fist. Gerard hardly has to do any work at all, practically, with the way Frank is humping his hand. Gerard really likes this system.
Gerard looks over Frank's shoulder, craning his neck to look down at Frank's cock. It's sliding back and forth in Gerard's fist, wet and red and veiny. It should be pretty gross, and it kind of is, but it's the hot kind of gross. Gerard's getting hard again, even.
"That's pretty hot," he says, off-hand. Frank's hips snap forward when Gerard says it, though, like Gerard said something really dirty, Gerard clears his throat, feeling a little embarrassed, but he says, "You know, I like your cock, it feels good."
"Good," Frank gasps. He tilts his head back against Gerard's shoulder. His mouth is wet and pink, ragged around the red split in his lip. Gerard doesn't know why he didn't notice Frank's mouth before this. It's fucking pornographic. It's weird, but Frank's porn mouth makes Gerard think about sucking Frank's dick. Gerard hesitates, and then decides that screw it, he'll just think out loud until Frank tells him to shut up.
"Your mouth is hot, too. But it's weird, it makes me think about sucking your dick, not the other way around." Gerard says. Frank makes a little whining noise, which Gerard takes as encouragement. "I should totally try sucking your dick sometime," he continues, "That would be pretty hard on my knees, here. Maybe on my bed, or something."
Frank grunts, his voice bouncing off the tile, and comes all over Gerard's fist.
"Dude," Gerard says. "That was easy."
"Shut up," Frank mumbles. He's sagging back against Gerard, his head lolling on Gerard's shoulder.
Gerard brings his hand up and examines Frank's come. It's white and gloppy. It looks the same as Gerard's does. Gerard takes a tentative lick. It tastes better than Gerard's does. Gerard licks the rest of it off of his hand, and then wipes his hand against his hip. When he looks over, Frank is regarding him through slitted eyes.
"Did you just eat my come?" Frank asks.
"Uh," Gerard says. "Yeah, I guess I did." He wiggles his fingers. "See, all clean."
"Shit," Frank says. Gerard can't tell if it's a good shit or a bad shit, but Frank turns around and kisses him, so he supposes it's good. Gerard wonders if maybe this is a thing, with the kissing and the handjobs.
"Is this a thing?" Gerard asks, when Frank pulls back. Apparently his brain has decided to turn back online and embarrass the living shit out of him.
"No?" Frank says. Gerard can actually feel his face fall. "I mean," Frank says. Frank leans away and starts to pull up his pants, his movements awkward. Gerard drops his hands to his sides.
Gerard says, "Oh, it's cool, I thought--"
"I mean--"
"Yeah, no, that's better," Gerard says. "That's way better."
"Oh," Frank says, "Yeah, I thought--"
"Yeah," Gerard says. "I'd prefer it that way, actually."
They stand there awkwardly, staring at each other, and then Gerard opens the stall door. "Okay, then," he says, and lets Frank out in front of him.
---
"I just told them you were talking about stuff," Ray whispers to Gerard, before they split up to go to their classes, and Gerard feels himself flush bright, horrible red.
---
part three