Fic: Basement Romantic 2/2
Basement Romantic 2/2
Link to Part 1
Link to Master Post
Gerard may have built up immunity to Frank's germs, but Bob wasn't that lucky. The day Frank bounced into the shop, obviously fully recovered, Bob was already extra grouchy, fighting a headache and a near-constant tickle in his throat. He hadn't been sick in years and he was steadfastly refusing to give in now.
When he woke himself up in the middle of the night in a coughing fit, he wasted what little breath he did have on cursing Frank. He should have known better than to hang out over at Gerard's. See if he ever did anything nice for Frank again.
Bob dragged himself out of bed, wearing the blankets like a cape as he stumbled to the bathroom and leaning heavily against the wall as he took a piss. He wanted a drink but the kitchen was farther than he felt he could manage so instead he cupped his hands under the faucet of the bathroom sink. He may have ended up getting more water down the front of his shirt and along the edge of the blanket than actually in his mouth, but it was worth it.
He slept restlessly the remainder of the night, alternately cocooning himself in the blankets and pushing them off into the floor. When his alarm started buzzing, he smacked at it halfheartedly, aiming for the snooze button, before giving up and just pushing the entire thing off the nightstand. It was blissfully quiet for a while after that.
Bob finally heard noise from the other side of the house and fumbled for the phone that was still in the pocket of his jeans. He couldn’t keep the whine out of his voice when Brian picked up. “I’m dying.”
Brian hung up on him, but appeared at the bedroom door a few minutes later with Tylenol and water. “You caught Frank’s cold, huh?”
Bob could feel the sympathy behind Brian’s laughter, and he was too tired to get upset about it anyway, so he just nodded and took the water and pills gratefully. Brian said something else, but Bob was already most of the way back to sleep. Sometime later, Bob woke up to the feel of someone climbing onto the bed beside him.
He groaned and opened his eyes slowly, wondering if he was maybe still dreaming because Frank was really the last person he wanted to see and yet there he was.
Frank smiled at him, much too bright and happy to be helpful. “Hey, sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up. But since you are awake, I’ve got cold meds and juice for you.” He gestured at a glass on the nightstand and the pill bottle beside it. Either he had a worse bedside manner than Gerard or he realized that Bob didn’t actually want to be coddled, because he didn’t offer to help, just settled himself cross-legged at the end of the bed and opened his laptop.
“Why are you here?” Bob’s voice was scratchy, and it hurt his ears almost as much as it hurt his throat.
“Shut up, Bryar, I can work just as well from here as I can from home. Besides, it’s kinda my fault you’re sick.”
It wasn’t kinda Frank’s fault - it was totally Frank’s fault - but Bob was too tired to worry with little details like that. He let the sound of Frank’s fingers clicking over the keyboard lull him back to sleep.
The sun was sneaking in through the blinds at an odd angle the next time Bob woke up from a dream about being in a hospital where the zombie doctors were after his brains and the zombie nurses were after something else entirely. He still felt like shit and Frank was shaking him.
“Get up, you whiny baby.”
Bob wanted to point out that Frank had done his fair share of whining when he was sick, but arguing with Frank took a lot of energy and Bob didn’t have much to spare. “Not sick enough for a doctor.”
“I’m not taking you to the doctor, you dumbshit.”
“…did you just call me a dumbshit?”
“Nope, you’re delirious with fever. Jamia’s a hallucination too. Now get your ass in the car.”
Jamia was actually standing behind Frank, rolling her eyes at him, and she helped Bob situate the blanket around himself for the long walk to the driveway. Jamia’s car was nice - a lot nicer than Frank’s - but the sound system was crap. Even though he wasn’t in the audiotronics business anymore, Bob promised himself that when he felt better he was gonna hook her up because Jamia was pretty awesome. And she deserved something for putting up with Frank.
Even half asleep in the backseat, Bob realized they’re going to Gerard’s, which was fine with him. It was even finer that they got there and Gerard was waiting to unravel Bob from the blankets he’d been wearing and push him into the cool, clean sheets of his own bed. Bob thought maybe he should at least say thank you to Jamia, or flip Frank the bird for bitching about the fact Gerard hadn’t put clean sheets on the bed when he was sick, but he really just wanted to sleep.
When he surfaced from slumber again, the room was quiet and mostly dark, which was good for the pounding in Bob’s head but not so good when he tried to focus. Gerard was curled up in a chair beside the bed, occasionally glancing up at Bob and sketching in the sliver of light coming in from the other room.
“Are you drawing me sleeping?” Bob asked his voice rough.
Gerard startled a little. “No.” Even in the poor lighting, Bob could see the blush rising in Gerard’s cheeks and knew it was a lie, but before he could call him on it, Gerard jumped up. “Hey, so, since you’re up, I’m gonna run upstairs and get you some soup, okay?”
Bob waited for the sound of Gerard’s footsteps on the stairs to slow, then forced himself up. The trip to the bathroom was pretty taxing on his strength, and he was sitting up against the headboard of the bed, trying to catch his breath, when Gerard came back. He took the bowl of soup eagerly, letting the warmth seep into his skin and breathing in the steam. The soup was thick and hot and awesome, and Bob noticed that Gerard had a bowl of his own balanced on his lap.
“You didn’t eat with everyone else?” Bob asked, thinking there was something wrong with that picture but not sure what.
“Nah,” Gerard answered with a smile. “I didn’t want you to eat alone. Those fuckers didn’t save us any breadsticks, though, so they didn’t deserve to have my company at dinner anyway.”
It wasn’t until a little later, when the soup bowls were stacked on the floor and Bob was giving in to the effects of another round of meds and the cool feel of Gerard’s hand running through his hair, that he realized it was Thursday night.
Bob was really tired of sleeping, and tired of waking up having to figure out what exactly was going on. Gerard’s bedroom was empty this time, and it wasn’t until Bob was on his way back from the bathroom that he noticed Gerard asleep on the couch. Bob rolled his eyes and leaned over the back of the couch, shaking Gerard.
“Bob?” Gerard mumbled, half asleep, and brought his hand up to cover Bob’s where it was still on his shoulder. “You okay?”
“Not dead yet,” Bob answered. “C’mon, the bed is plenty big enough for both of us, and it’s your bed. Plus, you slept with Frank when he was sick. You can’t tell me you’re okay with Frank’s germs but not mine.”
Gerard yawned as he stood up, stumbling a little on the way to the bedroom. He stood beside the bed and waited for Bob to stretch out before crawling in beside him. “I think that since you caught this from Frankie, I’m immune to it anyway,” he murmured, rubbing a hand over Bob’s back. “But even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t mind catching Bob-germs, so it’s okay.”
Bob thought maybe there was something important in that sentence he was missing, but he wasn’t sure what.
***** ***** ***** *****
“All recovered from your illness?” Frank asked cheerfully, jumping up onto the counter and nearly knocking over Bob’s coffee.
Bob glared at him. “We really need to tie a bell around your neck or something, give people some kind of warning that you’re coming.”
Frank laughed. “That’s the Bob I know and love. I guess that does mean you’re feeling better. Sorry for getting you sick.”
Bob didn’t know if Frank was expecting him to say something like “that’s okay,” but he wasn’t going to. Still. “Thanks for looking after me, and for driving me to Gerard’s.”
“No problem,” Frank said, swiping Bob’s cup and taking a long swig. “But I guess this is as good a time as any to tell you that I really, really like you, but you had better not fuck with Gee. I swear, no one will ever find your fucking body. I mean, I think you’re awesome and I’m glad Pete sent you out here to us, but Gerard is Gerard, so, you know.”
Bob nodded, even though he wasn’t sure what the intent was behind Frank’s vague threat. He wasn’t planning on fucking with Gerard.
***** ***** ***** *****
Spending a Saturday evening cooking wasn’t something Bob had ever anticipated doing, yet here he was, mixing up some type of vegan ratatouille and wild rice salad. Frank was sitting on the counter, sticking his fingers into the bowl of chocolate pudding Jamia was mixing up. Apparently he wasn’t allowed to actually help, but he took his position of taste tester very seriously.
“You don’t cook, Bob?” Jamia asked.
“Not really,” Bob answered. “If it doesn’t come out of a box or get microwaved, I usually won’t mess with it.”
Gerard leaned around Bob to scrape a cutting board of veggies into the pot. “We’re working on changing that, though.”
“As long as we have better results than we did with Frank,” Mikey added, walking in to grab a soda. “We had to repaint the entire kitchen after that fire.”
“I don’t see you helping,” Frank pointed out.
“I’m retired.” Mikey swiped a slice of red pepper off the counter. “I only have to cook one night a week now. It’s awesome.”
“Besides,” Gerard pointed out as Mikey headed back outside, “Mom’s got Mikey and Alicia working in the garden today, so he’s off the hook for this one.”
***** ***** ***** *****
Gerard must have had secret super powers of persuasion because more often than not Bob found himself running errands for Gerard on his days off. He still didn’t know why Gerard never left the house, but he was starting to see how easy it was for him to manage it. One of Gerard’s errands involved bringing food to Krista, a Tupperware of leftover lasagna for lunch and a re-heatable casserole to make for dinner. Krista had been really tired lately - with good reason. She only had about two weeks left before her due date and it seemed like her belly was getting bigger every day - and Gerard didn’t like the idea of her and Ray eating takeout or quick meals.
When she swung the door open, she looked more bright-eyed and energetic than Bob remembered her being the last few times he’d seen her. “Bob! I’m so glad you’re here! You can help me move this chair!”
She had her hair pulled up on top of her head and a rag in her hand like she’d been cleaning. Bob held up the bag of food and Krista waved him in, leading the way to the kitchen. She stopped suddenly, one hand on her stomach and the other braced on the wall, and Bob could see the discomfort in her closed-eye expression even as she forced out a few even, measured breaths.
“You okay?”
She nodded, and after a minute or so whatever it was passed and she opened her eyes to smile at Bob before continuing into the kitchen, her steps just a little slower and a little more unsteady than they were before.
Ray had said Krista had been having false contractions for about a week now, and the fact that Bob knew there was an actual name for that - Braxton Hicks - was more than he’d ever expected to know about childbirth.
Krista took the bag from Bob, putting both the casserole and the Tupperware into the fridge.
“I’m pretty sure Gerard meant for you to eat that,” he pointed out.
Krista shrugged. “I will. I’m just not very hungry today.”
Bob was skeptical. He’d seen how much food she had been putting away lately, and not hungry wasn’t normal. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Of course! Now come help me move the recliner in the living room. It’s Ray’s favorite place to sit and I know that the baby’ll like it more if it’s in the corner by the window.”
Bob didn’t ask why she didn’t wait for Ray to get home to move the chair, or how a newborn was even going to know what a window was. He’d already figured out that having babies made people so fucking strange. Just the week before, Bob had been forced to endure an entire discussion on the pros and cons of pacifiers. In his opinion, if it shut up a crying baby, a pacifier was both healthy and vitally necessary for everyone involved.
Bob sighed and went over to the chair, waving Krista away when she moved to help. “Don’t touch it.”
“I’m pregnant, not helpless,” Krista protested, but it didn’t carry much weight when she grabbed onto the back of the couch and turned away from Bob, tensing up again. He waited until the hopefully-still-fake contraction passed and busied himself moving the chair when Krista turned back around.
Krista was either being difficult because he wouldn’t let her help or else she was seriously determined to have the chair in the just the precise position, but Bob dutifully moved the heavy recliner several times before she was happy with the placement.
“Perfect!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together with a bright smile, but the smile dropped quickly. “OH!” This time, Bob was the closest thing to grab on to, and he winced as her grip tightened on his arm but didn’t move away. Instead, he brought his other arm around her back to help support her.
“Been happening like that long?” he asked when she was breathing normally again.
“Braxton Hicks,” she answered. “But that one was more intense than the others.”
“I don’t think those are practice contractions.” Bob led Krista over to the couch and made her sit down. Maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t completely tuned out Ray’s ramblings the past few weeks because he knew that true labor contractions will get longer in length, closer in frequency and stronger in intensity, which seemed to be what was happening here. He pulled out his phone and dialed Ray’s number.
Luckily, the extent of Bob’s involvement was driving Krista to meet Ray at the hospital and then going back to Gerard’s to wait for the phone call that their little family had a new member.
***** ***** ***** *****
Bob didn’t know what kind of luck had let Matt to them, but he was thankful for it. He didn’t mind working long hours and weekend days, didn’t mind when Bob or Mikey assigned him the crappy jobs like sorting through the new arrivals or dealing with the teenies. He didn’t hesitate when Bob needed someone to cover when he was sick. He had numbers for all the best takeout places in the area, and he knew most of the delivery drivers so they always got their food in record time. He knew where everything was, no matter which side of the store it was on or who put it there. He understood the complicated accounting system Gabe and Frank had installed. Okay, maybe it wasn’t really that complicated, but it wasn’t something Bob or Mikey was eager to learn.
That wasn’t the point anyway. The point was, sometimes Bob thought Matt was too good to be true, but most of the time he just hoped he could figure out a way to keep him.
When Matt let it slip that it was his birthday - he brought in the half a cake that was leftover from celebrating with his parents - Bob used that as an excuse to give Matt a bonus. Yeah, maybe paying for tattoo work at Rock City wasn’t the most creative or worthwhile bonus, but Matt seemed to like it. Plus, it kept Jamia occupied long enough for Bob to steal her car and install a decent sound system in it. It was an all-around winning situation.
***** ***** ***** *****
Bob walked down the basement steps and came to an abrupt halt, looking around. The main area of the basement was clean. Not like, oh, let’s push some of the stuff out of the way so we can actually tell there’s a couch down here, clean. No, it was really fucking clean, like the floor had been swept and mopped and the couch had clean sheet spread out over it and there were no stacks of books in the corner and the unrelenting layer of dust that seemed to accumulate was gone.
Bob started to take a step back up the stairs, certain he’d somehow fallen into the Twilight Zone, when the bathroom door opened and Gerard came out, wrapped in a towel and accompanied by a cloud of steam. Bob knew that Gerard had just taken a shower yesterday; he remembered the damp towels on the bathroom floor. And, ignoring the fact it was creepyweird how he knew so much about Gerard’s bathing habits, Gerard never took a shower two days in a row.
“Who are you and what have you done with Gee?”
Gerard jumped, startled, but grinned when he saw Bob. “Ray and Krista are bringing Hannah over to see me. I don’t want her to think her Uncle Gerard is a slob.”
“Her Uncle Gerard is a slob,” Bob pointed out. “And she’s just a baby, only a few weeks old.”
Gerard waved a hand dismissively, “Totally not the point,” and disappeared into his bedroom.
Bob sighed as he dropped down on the couch and propped his feet up on the coffee table. He could almost hear Frank now, “Yeah, sure, he changed the sheets for you, but he honest-to-God cleaned for Hannah.” Bob really wasn’t jealous of a newborn. That would be ridiculous. Besides, the basement - and Gerard - could probably stand to be cleaned more often.
“Feet off the table,” Gerard ordered, coming past and pushing at Bob’s shoes. “We don’t want Hannah to think her Uncle Bob is lacking in manners.”
Bob almost pointed out that he wasn’t Hannah’s uncle and that he actually did have manners but liked to put his feet on the damn coffee table. He didn’t though, because who was he to try and ruin the delusions Gerard was determined to instill in the baby?
***** ***** ***** *****
Mikey was pacing back and forth in the apartment when Bob and Frank walked in. He glanced towards the bedroom before he whispered, “They lost Alicia’s ring! What the fuck am I supposed to tell her?”
“Her engagement ring?” Bob asked.
“No, her actual ring. I swiped it off the bathroom counter to take with me, so that I could take it with me and make sure I got the right size ring.”
“Tell her Bunny ate it,” Frank said, like it was a perfectly reasonable explanation.
Mikey stared at Frank for a minute then shook his head. Bob agreed with Mikey, but before he could offer a suggestion of his own, Alicia walked in.
“Hey, babe, have you seen my ring? I thought I set it on the counter but I can’t find it.”
“Bunny ate it,” Frank said quickly. “Totally my fault, I knocked it in the floor and she must have thought it was food. I’m sure you’ll have it back in a few days. Uh, I'm late meeting Jamia, I gotta go.”
Mikey, Alicia, and Bob all watched him leave.
“Bunny ate my ring?” Alicia asked, the disbelief clear in her voice.
Mikey didn’t seem inclined to say anything, so Bob nodded. “Yeah, it was the damnedest thing. Hey, uh, I need Mikey to come down to the store with me. Minor emergency. We’ll be back in a little bit.”
Bob grabbed Mikey’s arm and pulled him towards the door. When they were in the hallway, Bob let go but kept walking, Mikey right behind him.
“So, now what?” Mikey asked when they got to the car.
“We drive to the store and come back,” Bob suggested. “And hopefully come up with a plan along the way.”
“Yeah, except you and Frank just told Alicia that Bunny ate her ring.”
“Well, yeah, but that buys us a couple days, actually. Hopefully the jewelers will find her ring by then. And if not, you’re planning on proposing to next weekend, right? So if nothing else, the diamond will distract her.”
“I hope you’re right,” Mikey said, staring out the window.
“I am.” Bob was pretty sure on this. “Oh, by the way, did Pete call you?”
“Pete? No, I haven’t heard from him in a few weeks. Why?”
“I talked to Patrick this afternoon. You owe me fifty bucks.”
***** ***** ***** *****
“No fucking way, Gee. We are not spending the evening watching Ace of Cakes again.”
Gerard shrugged and Bob could tell he was trying to hide a smile. “My basement, my tv, my choice. If you don’t like it, you can always go home.”
Bob thought about it, about the house he shared with Brian, about the couch that didn’t have a distinct Gerard-shaped indentation in the seat and paint stains on the cushions, about the fifty-two inch television in the living room and having the remote all to himself since Brian was out with Marcy or Margie or something. Of course, at his house there was also no random pointless facts brought up by the commercials, no leftover slices of Mikey’s pumpkin bread, and no Gerard.
That last one was the kicker.
Preferring to spend the evening with Gerard didn’t mean he wanted to watch Ace of Cakes again though. Bob reached for the remote that was on the cushion between them and flipped to the guide channel.
“Hey!” Gerard protested, grabbing for the remote.
Bob laughed and held it above his head, out of Gerard’s reach. He wasn’t expecting Gerard to crawl across the couch and halfway into Bob’s lap. He was surprised enough that Gerard ended up with the remote, moving back to his own side of the couch and changing the channel with a smirk.
Bob hesitated only a moment, and instead of going for the remote, he went after Gerard. He was decidedly too old for this, settling a battle for the remote with a tickle fight, but he’d seen both Mikey and Frank use Gerard’s weak spots against him, and besides, Gerard’s laughter was adorable and infectious. Bob was a little breathless when he finally ended up with the remote in his possession once more, but he couldn’t really celebrate the victory. When he looked down, Gee was staring up at him, the laughter in his eyes tinged with something else. Bob couldn’t resist closing his eyes and closing the distance between them to kiss Gerard.
Gerard kissed back, bringing one arm up around Bob’s neck and pressing up against him. Bob dropped the remote and shifted, deepening the kiss. He pulled away when the sound of Gerard’s cellphone rang through the air.
“Let it ring.” Gerard licked his lips and tried to coax Bob back into the kiss.
Bob shook his head, pushing himself up off the couch. “Sorry, Gee, I didn’t mean…” Bob grabbed his shoes and stood up without putting them on. “Sorry,” he repeated, running up the basement stairs and ignoring the fact that Gerard was calling his name behind him.
***** ***** ***** *****
Bob glanced at the display on his phone, saw it was Gerard, and shoved the whole thing under his pillow. He didn’t want to apologize, or explain, or listen to Gerard trying to do either, not until he had things straight in his own mind. Which wasn’t coming along too well.
He turned his attention back to the photographs spread out in front of him. He had wanted to surprise Gerard with some new pictures to hang on the basement wall, but he hadn’t decided which ones he liked best. He knew which ones he wanted for himself, and he couldn’t decide if it was fair that he just give Gerard copies of the same ones.
There was one of Frank and Jamia in the kitchen, Jamia standing between Frank’s spread legs and wiping a dab of icing across Frank’s cheek. They were both laughing, and Bob remembered that afternoon had devolved into an all-out icing war.
There was another of Gerard, stretched out on the couch with his head in Bob’s lap and his sketchbook falling off his stomach. Bob was looking down at Gerard when the picture was taken, fondness and affection clear in his expression. Bob thought maybe it was too telling, like he was giving away his own secrets.
Bob’s favorite picture from the set was of himself and Hannah. She was tiny and pink and almost lost in the folds of the black hoodie he’d been wearing, but she hadn’t fussed at all when Krista put her in Bob’s arms, just stared up at him with her little, unfocused baby blue eyes, and Bob had maybe fallen a little bit in love.
Bob sighed and shuffled all the photographs back into their envelope. Nearly every memory he had made since moving to New Jersey either involved Gerard or could be directly related back to him. It wasn’t making it easy for Bob to figure out what he was going to do.
***** ***** ***** *****
“Can I help you find something?” Bob didn’t mean to sound so testy, but he was tired and Mikey had brought him a Tupperware of leftover lasagna that made Bob feel guilty about ignoring Gerard’s phone calls all week, and this guy had been wandering around the store for damn near half an hour.
When the guy turned around, Bob was surprised to recognize him from one of Gerard’s pictures - a little older and a little scruffier and a lot more covered in ink, but definitely one of Gerard’s friends. He smiled at Bob, offering his hand. “Hi, I’m Jepha.”
Bob shook his hand warily, “Bob.”
"Oh, you're Bob! Gerard talks about you all the fucking time, man. Gee seems to be pretty fond of you. I was kinda hoping to meet you and make sure of that myself. Although I’m sure Frank’s already given you the ‘you hurt him, we hurt you’ lecture. He was always pretty good at that, even if he’s probably out of practice."
Bob wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he didn’t.
Jepha seemed quite content to ramble on, though, so it didn’t matter much. “I would have introduced myself but you seemed to be pretty intent on glaring holes in your computer screen. I’m waiting on Mikeyway over there to get off the phone, but he doesn’t seem to be in too much of a hurry. Or in a better mood than you, actually.”
Yeah, Bob was pretty sure Mikey was talking to the jewelers who still hadn’t found Alicia’s ring. He was planning on staying the fuck out of Mikey’s way for the rest of the afternoon. But it wasn’t his place to tell Jepha that.
“I knew I should have just had Gerard send the design with Brian, but I kinda wanted to check this place out. You and Mikey have a good setup going here. I like your local section. I think some of these guys were around back in the day, only they’re in different bands now. Makes me wanna drag out our old demos and play them, y’know? Bert always believed our band was gonna make it big. We were ready to conquer the world before the accident.”
Bob was about to ask exactly what Jepha was talking about, but suddenly Frank came running through the shop, stopping short when he saw Jepha.
“Jepha! “ Frank threw his arms around Jepha in one of his patented Iero-hugs. “I didn’t know you were coming down! Where’s Quinn?”
“He’s back in the city. It’s just me this time. I’m picking up a couple of new pieces from Mikey.”
“But he’s coming down this weekend, right? For the party thing?”
They had a party planned at This Is Ivy League to celebrate the fact that Mikey and Bob had survived their first quarter and actually managed to stay in the black.
“Yeah, of course! He’s actually closing the gallery. We’ll both be here all weekend.”
“Success!” Mikey said, coming to join them. “They found the ring! Now, instead of being a dead man this time next week, I’ll be an engaged one!”
“I’m not sure there’s much of a difference,” Frank teased, ducking out of the way when Mikey pretended to hit him.
***** ***** ***** *****
Bob wasn't sure why Brian was home again. He wasn't complaining, obviously, since it was actually Brian's house, and it was nice not to be home moping alone. Moping was always better when you had someone to share the misery with. And beer, that helped too. But Brian had been at the house every night this week, and that just wasn't like Brian. If Bob had been thinking about it, he would've asked, maybe hinted around to see if something was up, but he was still too preoccupied with the stranger - Jepha - that had been in the shop that afternoon.
Pizza and beer in front of cop dramas on the television was quickly becoming a ritual between them, and Bob was really trying to figure out why the girl who was married to the one detective apparently had a baby with another one when he suddenly blurted out, "Who's Bert?"
Brian didn't answer him, so Bob kicked the edge of his chair. "Brian. There was this guy that came into the store today, Jepha something, and he said he used to be in a band with Bert. Apparently I'm supposed to know who that is and I have no clue. Help me out here?"
Brian looked at Bob. “Gerard didn’t tell you about Bert?”
“No, but there are all these secrets surrounding Gerard, I’m a little afraid to ask questions.”
“Gerard’ll tell you anything if you ask. Or he’ll assume you already know.”
“Well, I don’t know. And I’m not asking Gerard.” That was mainly because Bob wasn’t talking to Gerard right now, but Brian didn’t need to know that.
Brian sighed, getting up out of his chair. “I’m gonna need another beer for this conversation. Want one?” He didn’t wait for an answer and brought one for Bob anyway. “You seriously don’t know about Bert? Or about the accident, and why Gerard stays home all the time?”
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking. The whole Gerard not leaving the house thing came up once and I thought Mikey was gonna kill me with his eyes, and I got the impression Frank would be worse, so I let it go.”
Brian peeled at the label of his bottle, but Bob didn’t think he was actually stalling. It seemed more like he was getting his thoughts together.
“For someone who’s afraid of needles, Gerard really likes ink. Art appreciation or whatever. He used to come around the shop with Frank - this was way back before I even had my own place. The accident was five years or so ago, and this had to be a year or two before that. Fuck, we’re all getting old. Gerard was working some bullshit job at the time, I don’t even remember what it was because it really wasn’t important, just something to help put Mikey through school.
“Anyway, one day Jepha was in there when Gerard and Frank came by, and they all started talking. Jepha was in a band, just a local one but they were gaining recognition by that time, and he invited us to come out to one of their shows. Somehow that led to Gerard hooking up with Bert, who was their lead singer. I think it was because Bert was a little special in his own way, and he recognized something in Gerard. But he always treated Gee like he was something important, like he was somehow more than the way Gerard saw himself.”
“So Bert was Gerard’s boyfriend?”
Brian nodded. “Yeah, but they were kinda fucked up. We all were. There was a lot of drinking, a lot of drugs, a lot of days that kinda blurred together. Bert and Gerard - well, I think that you really should ask Gee, when it comes to them. Because I was an outsider to that. But they were together for a while.
“The band, The Used, got offered a contract with one of the smaller labels, and we were all out celebrating. Bert and Gerard were pretty fucked up, and they shouldn’t have been driving, but I think the same could have been said for any of us that night. But it was them - there was some kind of accident, and it wasn’t even their fault. A truck ran a red light, and maybe if Bert hadn’t been drinking he would’ve been able to react quicker or something, but they were hit, and the car just fucking crumpled. I remember seeing it the next day and thinking there was no way that anyone could have gotten out of that alive.”
Brian fell silent, focused on his beer, and Bob let it rest for a minute before prompting, “But Gerard did?”
“But Gerard did,” Brian repeated. “He walked away from that shit without a scratch, which was so fucking unbelievable. Bert… I’m pretty sure he was killed instantly. I heard from one of the paramedics that Gerard wouldn’t get out of the car, that he wouldn’t let go of Bert’s hand and wouldn’t quit talking to him. But that night - like I said, we were all pretty fucked up, but what I remember most about that night was getting to the hospital with Frank and Quinn, and Jepha and Brendan were already there, and there was just all this blood, on Gerard and on them where they’d been hugging him. And Frank puked on my shoes.” He laughed a little at that, and then tipped his beer up.
Bob didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything, just tried to let it sink in to the background music from a Saturn commercial.
Finally, Brian started talking again. “After the funeral, Gerard basically crawled into his bed and didn’t come back out. Mikey had come home from Chicago, and I think he and Frank were taking turns on watch, sitting with Gerard in the basement. We tried - me and Ray and Mrs. Way - we tried to talk Mikey into going back to Chicago, at least to finish the semester, but he wouldn’t. The three of them would just hang out in the basement, watching Food Network. Which was a leftover from Bert; he and Gerard would get fucked up, watch Food Network even though neither of them could cook worth shit.
“Quinn and Jepha and Branden didn’t come around much. I think… we were all friends, but Gerard and Bert were the tie that kept us together, you know? And they had just lost their best friend and their band, their future, all in one night, so I think it was different for them. And the rest of us… maybe we catered to Gerard a little too much because we let him get away with wallowing in his guilt and misery. That’s the reason he doesn’t leave the house - no one wanted to force the issue, and it was just easier to bring the world to him than to force him back out into it.
“All the cooking shows came in handy, though, because Mikey finally decided he wasn’t going to make Gerard leave the house but he was going to do something, so they started trying out all these recipes, making their own variations and shit. Frank tried to help at first, but he is a fucking disaster in the kitchen, so that didn’t last long. But he did meet Gabe, which led to meeting Alex and Ryland. And when they were opening up This Is Ivy League, they hired Mikey to work in the kitchens, so that worked out like it was supposed to, I guess.”
“That’s why Gerard cooks, then, for Thursday nights? And why he has this strange obsession with Tivo’ing shows off Food Network for us to watch?” Bob had never actually questioned those things - they just were - but he could see the reason behind them now. “So why Thursday night?”
“It was Mikey’s only night off when he first started working at This Is Ivy League. So that became the designated night for dinner. Mikey hasn’t missed a Thursday night, ever. Gerard hadn’t either, until a few weeks ago when he decided to skip family dinner to hang out in the basement with a sick friend.” Brian looked pointedly at Bob and Bob immediately felt a little guilty.
“What about Gee’s art?”
Brian rolled with the subject change easily enough. “He just started painting again a few years ago. He was still doing things like designing tattoos for Frank and sketching small pieces, but it wasn’t until Quinn and Jepha opened a gallery in New York that he did anything major. Quinn came to Thursday night dinner one night and mentioned it, and Gerard just… he decided it was time to start back up or whatever. Makes me feel lucky to have pieces with his name on them in my shop. Quinn charges outrageous prices for some of that shit.”
Bob nodded again and stared at the television, pretending to watch but he really didn’t even know what show was running on the screen. “I kissed him,” he finally said.
“Gerard?”
“Yeah.” Bob set his beer down on the floor beside him and covered his face with his hand.
Brian was apparently waiting for Bob to say more, and when he didn’t, Brian laughed. “Bob, I think everyone’s been waiting for you two to hook up. Why else do you think Frank was threatening you?”
“Uh, what? I thought Frank was threatening me about Jamia. And we didn’t hook up, I just kissed him and…”
“And left?” Brian asked. “Is that why you’ve been ignoring him all week, moping around here and shit?”
“Hey, you have no room to talk about moping around the house because you’re doing the same thing. And I’m not ignoring him, I’m just… giving us both some space.”
“Space, yeah, okay. You haven’t been home this many nights in a row in months, man. I don’t quite believe that you’re not ignoring him.”
Bob didn’t say anything. He knew he was being ridiculous, but everything about Gerard was ridiculous. He really liked Gerard, even when he hadn’t slept in three days and hadn’t showered in longer because he was so involved in some project. He didn’t want to think Gerard only kissed him because it was convenient. It wasn’t like there were a lot of guys to choose from in the Ways’ basement.
***** ***** ***** *****
Gerard maybe should have looked out of place in the middle of the crowd at This Is Ivy League, but he didn’t. These were his friends, and he looked completely comfortable talking and laughing with Brian and Jepha on one side of him and Frank and Jamia on the other. Bob was still watching him when Mikey came up to stand beside him.
“It’s nice that your brother decided to come out tonight, to be here to support you,” Bob said. He wasn’t expecting it when Mikey hauled off and punched him in the shoulder. For all that it was a friendly punch and Mikey was Mikey, it hurt.
“He’s not here because of me, asshole.”
Bob stared at Mikey, rubbing his shoulder. “What the fuck, man?”
Mikey rolled his eyes. “Go talk to him. Get your shit straight so I can quit worrying about the two of you and focus on worrying about proposing to Alicia, okay?”
Bob watched Mikey walk off and was still trying to figure out just what to say - he couldn’t just walk up to Gerard and ask him to talk because up to this point Frank hadn’t tried to kill him, but that luck might not hold out once Frank realized that Bob and Gerard were pretty much fighting. In the end, it didn’t matter because Gerard came up to him.
“Um, hi,” Gerard said, shifting nervously in front of Bob.
“Hey, you left the house,” Bob replied, even though that wasn’t at all what he had meant to say.
Gerard gave him a small smile. “Well, yeah, there are some things that are worth leaving the house for.”
Bob wasn’t sure exactly what he meant by that, but he hadn’t been sure about anything lately, so it wasn’t new territory. “Look, about that night, I didn’t… I mean, I don’t want you to think…”
“Did you not notice that I kissed you back?” Gerard sounded amused.
“Well, yeah, but it’s not like you have a lot of guys coming over to kiss you, you know? I don’t want to do something that’ll fuck up our friendship - and everything else I’ve got here in New Jersey - because I’m convenient for you.”
“Bob, it’s not because you were there. I haven’t wanted to even think about being in a relationship with anyone for a long time, and yeah, that’s mostly because I’ve got the same people around me all the time and they wouldn’t fit into that category. But they’re my friends and I was perfectly content with the way things were going until you came along.”
“I’m sorry?” Bob offered.
Gerard laughed. “Don’t be. I’m glad you came along. I’m kinda fond of you, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“Yeah, so everyone keeps telling me.”
“You are so oblivious. It’s a little adorable. Will you just kiss me already?”
And Bob may have been oblivious, but he wasn’t stupid. Still, they were in the middle of This Is Ivy League, surrounded by all their friends, so Bob kept the kiss a lot more tame than he wanted to, breaking it off when Mikey came up and threw an arm around each of them.
“Enough with the display, you two. I’m glad to see you made up, but you’re stealing my spotlight.”
Bob laughed and let Gerard thread their fingers together as they followed Mikey across the room to where Alicia was standing with Krista and the baby. The crowd got conspicuously quiet, which led Bob to believe that Mikey’s secret plan wasn’t really much of a secret after all.
When Mikey asked for everyone’s attention, Bob slid his phone out of his pocket and dialed Patrick. Patrick, Pete, and Ashlee weren’t able to make it to New Jersey for the party, but Pete really didn’t want to be left out of this, so Bob had agreed to put them on speaker for Mikey’s big moment.
“Tonight’s a big night,” Mikey was saying. “We’re here to celebrate the fact that Bob and I made it three months without killing one another, or Frank, and we’re actually making money. Not much, but it’s better than we expected to do. Everyone in this room has a part in that success, so thank you for supporting us. Some of you deserve more thanks than others, like Brian and Frank and Gabe and Matt. I hope you know how much we appreciate everything you’ve done and everything you continue to do.”
Bob nodded, agreeing with everything Mikey was saying and content to let him be the one to say it.
“Disenchanted is the main reason we’re all here tonight, but we have more reasons to celebrate. The newest member of our family, Hannah Elizabeth Toro.” Mikey pointed her out and Ray held her up, still a tiny little thing lost in the ruffles and lace of her party dress, and everyone cheered. “She’s got some growing to do before her name actually fits her, but she’s special.
“Also, Quinn and Jepha are moving their gallery to a bigger building, and they may actually get to have Gerard show up at one of his art shows.” Mikey looked back at Gerard and smiled, calling attention to the fact that Gerard was there but not making a big deal out of it.
“The biggest thing about tonight, though, is celebrating love and friendship. We’ve all grown and changed over the years, added new people into the mix, but I think we’re all doing pretty well with that. It hasn’t been that long since we met Bob, or Jamia, or Matt, but I really can’t imagine you guys not being here tonight.”
Mikey reached for Alicia’s hand and pulled her closer to him before dropping down on one knee. Alicia’s free hand flew to her mouth and Bob could already see the tears starting to form in her eyes.
“Alicia Marie Simmons, since that morning you pulled over to help when my car was dead on the side of the road, I knew that you were special. Every day I find another reason to love you. I don’t ever want to imagine my life without you. Will you marry me?”
Alicia didn’t answer at first. Gerard squeezed his hand, and Bob knew he wasn’t the only one in the room holding his breath.
“Say yes!” Pete yelled through the phone, voice far away and tinged with laughter. “Or I come claim Mikey for my harem!”
“Fuck you, Wentz!” Alicia called in Bob’s direction, but she was laughing as she turned back to Mikey. “Of course I will.”
“Yes?”
“Yes!”
Bob cheered along with the rest of the room when Alicia pulled Mikey to his feet and kissed him, then turned to Gerard for a kiss of his own.
***** ***** ***** *****
Bob was standing next to the punch bowl with Jamia, watching over the reception. Watching their friends. Frank, Gerard, Brian, and Pete had gone outside to vandalize Mikey’s new car - a wedding present from Gerard - and Patrick and Ashlee were over in the corner comparing baby notes with Ray and Krista. Bob had heard talk earlier of arranging play dates for Hannah and Bronx, but he apparently he wasn’t the only one who thought the babies were a little too young for play dates that involved plane rides, so that plan had been put on hold. Matt was dancing with one of the bridesmaids. Jepha and Quinn had cornered one the wedding photographers - some kid named Jon that Pete had brought in from Chicago - and were trying to talk him and his partner into submitting some prints to their new gallery. Mikey and Alicia were in a corner of the room, getting a head start on their honeymoon. Gabe was talking shit to Brian’s date, who looked entirely unimpressed by him, which only made him try harder. The room was filled with chatter and laughter and the sound of a good time.
Patrick walked up to Bob, shaking his head. “Pete just came back in with streamers hanging out the back of his pants. I am seriously afraid to see what they’ve done to the car. Honestly, he’s like a kid all the time.”
“Hey, you’re the one that’s married to him,” Bob pointed out, gesturing to the gold band on Patrick’s hand that matched Pete’s.
“Yeah, well.” Patrick looked a little bit like he still couldn’t believe that himself. “It was because of the baby, I kinda had to. Pete still wants a ceremony, though, because he says it wasn’t fair that you weren’t there to give me away or some shit.”
“Well, I promised to come back to Chicago for that, so just let me know when. Only, don’t let him plan the thing, or you’re going to end up with an Alice in Wonderland themed commitment ceremony.”
“Actually, that might be pretty appropriate,” Patrick said. “Most days I feel like life with Pete is comparable to falling down a rabbit hole.”
Bob laughed because he could totally see the validity of that statement. “I can only imagine. I mean, in the past year and a half, he’s managed to have your best friend move halfway across the country, get you involved in a serious relationship with him and his wife, and make you a dad. It’s a bit surreal.”
Patrick started to say something else, but was interrupted by one of the bridesmaids coming over to grab Jamia’s arm, pulling her away to where a crowd was gathering around Alicia for the tossing of the bouquet. Bob and Patrick watched from the back as a few girls scuffled over the flowers and one of them came out victorious, raising them about her head.
Bob was about to make a remark about how silly the tradition was, fighting over a wedding token that supposedly meant the bearer would be the next to get married, but Frank and Gerard were suddenly right beside them.
“Oh, hey,” Frank said, leaning in to kiss Jamia’s cheek. “That means Mikey’s going to toss the garter next, right? I’m totally catching that thing, then you have to marry me.”
Gerard followed Frank into the crowd in the middle of the floor, and Bob could hear them arguing over who had more right to catch the garter.
Jamia leaned close to Bob. “Frank really doesn’t want to catch the garter. He’s just arguing with Gee to be arguing. We’ve already talked about getting married, and Frank’s pretty insistent that he won’t ask me until it’s legal for you and Gerard to get married too.”
Bob was a little surprised by that, even though he was used to Frank being… well, Frank. “And you’re okay with that? Waiting to get married?”
“I didn’t say I wanted to marry Frank,” Jamia answered with a grin, but Bob knew she was only joking because she was completely ridiculous about him. “Besides, I know he loves me. I don’t need a ring or a piece of paper or a fancy party to show that to the world. He shows me every day, and that’s what matters.”
Bob put his arm around Jamia and pulled her into a half-hug. He noticed that Frank and Gerard’s discussion seemed to be getting a little animated, and he was about to step away to go mediate when Brian laid his hand on his arm.
“I’ve got ‘em.”
Bob was more than willing to let Brian handle them. He’d had more practice at it, and if he chose a side he wasn’t going to have to sleep on the couch or be on the lookout for a not-so-sneaky prank in retaliation. Brian worked his way through the crowd and stepped in between Frank and Gerard at the same time that Mikey flung the garter over his head and into the crowd. The slip of fabric landed right in Brian’s hand, and the look on his face was priceless. Bob and Jamia both busted out laughing.
Frank and Gerard were both laughing as well when they made their way back to the punch table, Brian still in between them.
“Looks like Schechter is gonna be the next one to get tied down,” Frank said, wrapping his arms around Jamia. “Sorry, babe.”
“So, Brian, you got someone in mind?” Gerard asked.
Brian shook his head, looking across the room for Victoria. Bob knew that Brian and Victoria were just friends. She actually dated one of the bartenders from Midtown but Nate hadn’t been able to make the wedding so she had agreed to come with Brian. But there was some girl named Greta who Brian had actually brought back to his house on a couple occasions in the past few months. She was the only one that Bob had ever actually met because normally Brian didn’t go out with girls more than once, and he never brought them back home with him after the Charlene incident, which Bob had heard references to but didn’t know that actual story behind.
“It’s just superstition anyway,” Bob said, reaching for Gerard’s hand. “I think we promised Hannah a dance, Gee. We should go find her before Krista steals her away for a nap.”
Gerard let himself be led across the room and it wasn’t until they were dancing in an awkward triangle, Hannah on Bob’s hip with her sticky fingers tucked into the collar of Gerard’s shirt, that Gerard said, “You know something about Brian.”
“I know a lot about Brian. He’s my friend. And I’ll keep his secrets; it’s his business.”
“You are the worst gossip ever.” Gerard pretended to scowl at Bob, but it didn’t last long.
After the dance, Ray reclaimed his daughter, Krista asked Gerard to dance with her, and Bob found himself facing Mrs. Way.
“That’s one down,” Mrs. Way said, letting Bob lead her out onto the dance floor. “Now when are you and Gerard going to settle down?”
Bob laughed. “Are you trying to get us out of your basement?” He still technically lived at Brian’s, but more often than not he and Gerard were at the Ways’.
“No, actually, I was thinking of and letting Mikey and Alicia have the house. My sister invited me to come live with her in Florida, and I want to. I would just feel better about it if I knew that Gerard had someone to take care of him. I know he’s got Mikey and Frank and Brian and Ray all looking out for him, but it’s not the same. So, I’m asking you, are you planning on sticking around?”
Bob nodded solemnly. “Mrs. Way, I love your son. I don’t plan on going anywhere.”
Mrs. Way nodded back, just as solemn, but her eyes were twinkling with amusement. “That’s what I thought, I just needed to be sure.”
A few dances later, Bob ended up with his arms around Gerard once more. “Hey!” he said happily, leaning in for a kiss.
“Hey. What were you and Mom talking about so seriously?”
“Oh, I was asking for your hand in marriage, of course. I mean, I needed her formal approval, right?”
Gerard shook his head. “You’re like the prince that rescued me from the basement, I think that means you automatically earn the right to my hand. Plus, you’re polite and you help with the dishes and you make me smile. I’m pretty sure that she’d pick you over me any day.”
“If I’m the prince, does that make you the fairy tale princess?” Bob teased.
“Of course not,” Gerard scoffed. “Princesses have to be rescued from towers.”
“Oh, right,” Bob said, rolling his eyes. “I knew that.”
“Oh, shut up. You totally brought me breakfast in bed yesterday. I’m not the only romantic in this relationship.”
Yeah, okay. Bob couldn’t really dispute that. “Hey, you know what? I love you.”
“I knew that,” Gerard said, sliding his hands up to wrap around Bob’s neck and pull him into a kiss. “I love you, too.”
Bonus Tracks/Enhanced Content
Fanart:
Mikey, could you please ask your girlfriend to not molest me with her feet? by myaurasmiles
Fanmix(es):
It's Warmer in the Basement by thebunnyknows
Link to Part 1
Link to Master Post
Gerard may have built up immunity to Frank's germs, but Bob wasn't that lucky. The day Frank bounced into the shop, obviously fully recovered, Bob was already extra grouchy, fighting a headache and a near-constant tickle in his throat. He hadn't been sick in years and he was steadfastly refusing to give in now.
When he woke himself up in the middle of the night in a coughing fit, he wasted what little breath he did have on cursing Frank. He should have known better than to hang out over at Gerard's. See if he ever did anything nice for Frank again.
Bob dragged himself out of bed, wearing the blankets like a cape as he stumbled to the bathroom and leaning heavily against the wall as he took a piss. He wanted a drink but the kitchen was farther than he felt he could manage so instead he cupped his hands under the faucet of the bathroom sink. He may have ended up getting more water down the front of his shirt and along the edge of the blanket than actually in his mouth, but it was worth it.
He slept restlessly the remainder of the night, alternately cocooning himself in the blankets and pushing them off into the floor. When his alarm started buzzing, he smacked at it halfheartedly, aiming for the snooze button, before giving up and just pushing the entire thing off the nightstand. It was blissfully quiet for a while after that.
Bob finally heard noise from the other side of the house and fumbled for the phone that was still in the pocket of his jeans. He couldn’t keep the whine out of his voice when Brian picked up. “I’m dying.”
Brian hung up on him, but appeared at the bedroom door a few minutes later with Tylenol and water. “You caught Frank’s cold, huh?”
Bob could feel the sympathy behind Brian’s laughter, and he was too tired to get upset about it anyway, so he just nodded and took the water and pills gratefully. Brian said something else, but Bob was already most of the way back to sleep. Sometime later, Bob woke up to the feel of someone climbing onto the bed beside him.
He groaned and opened his eyes slowly, wondering if he was maybe still dreaming because Frank was really the last person he wanted to see and yet there he was.
Frank smiled at him, much too bright and happy to be helpful. “Hey, sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up. But since you are awake, I’ve got cold meds and juice for you.” He gestured at a glass on the nightstand and the pill bottle beside it. Either he had a worse bedside manner than Gerard or he realized that Bob didn’t actually want to be coddled, because he didn’t offer to help, just settled himself cross-legged at the end of the bed and opened his laptop.
“Why are you here?” Bob’s voice was scratchy, and it hurt his ears almost as much as it hurt his throat.
“Shut up, Bryar, I can work just as well from here as I can from home. Besides, it’s kinda my fault you’re sick.”
It wasn’t kinda Frank’s fault - it was totally Frank’s fault - but Bob was too tired to worry with little details like that. He let the sound of Frank’s fingers clicking over the keyboard lull him back to sleep.
The sun was sneaking in through the blinds at an odd angle the next time Bob woke up from a dream about being in a hospital where the zombie doctors were after his brains and the zombie nurses were after something else entirely. He still felt like shit and Frank was shaking him.
“Get up, you whiny baby.”
Bob wanted to point out that Frank had done his fair share of whining when he was sick, but arguing with Frank took a lot of energy and Bob didn’t have much to spare. “Not sick enough for a doctor.”
“I’m not taking you to the doctor, you dumbshit.”
“…did you just call me a dumbshit?”
“Nope, you’re delirious with fever. Jamia’s a hallucination too. Now get your ass in the car.”
Jamia was actually standing behind Frank, rolling her eyes at him, and she helped Bob situate the blanket around himself for the long walk to the driveway. Jamia’s car was nice - a lot nicer than Frank’s - but the sound system was crap. Even though he wasn’t in the audiotronics business anymore, Bob promised himself that when he felt better he was gonna hook her up because Jamia was pretty awesome. And she deserved something for putting up with Frank.
Even half asleep in the backseat, Bob realized they’re going to Gerard’s, which was fine with him. It was even finer that they got there and Gerard was waiting to unravel Bob from the blankets he’d been wearing and push him into the cool, clean sheets of his own bed. Bob thought maybe he should at least say thank you to Jamia, or flip Frank the bird for bitching about the fact Gerard hadn’t put clean sheets on the bed when he was sick, but he really just wanted to sleep.
When he surfaced from slumber again, the room was quiet and mostly dark, which was good for the pounding in Bob’s head but not so good when he tried to focus. Gerard was curled up in a chair beside the bed, occasionally glancing up at Bob and sketching in the sliver of light coming in from the other room.
“Are you drawing me sleeping?” Bob asked his voice rough.
Gerard startled a little. “No.” Even in the poor lighting, Bob could see the blush rising in Gerard’s cheeks and knew it was a lie, but before he could call him on it, Gerard jumped up. “Hey, so, since you’re up, I’m gonna run upstairs and get you some soup, okay?”
Bob waited for the sound of Gerard’s footsteps on the stairs to slow, then forced himself up. The trip to the bathroom was pretty taxing on his strength, and he was sitting up against the headboard of the bed, trying to catch his breath, when Gerard came back. He took the bowl of soup eagerly, letting the warmth seep into his skin and breathing in the steam. The soup was thick and hot and awesome, and Bob noticed that Gerard had a bowl of his own balanced on his lap.
“You didn’t eat with everyone else?” Bob asked, thinking there was something wrong with that picture but not sure what.
“Nah,” Gerard answered with a smile. “I didn’t want you to eat alone. Those fuckers didn’t save us any breadsticks, though, so they didn’t deserve to have my company at dinner anyway.”
It wasn’t until a little later, when the soup bowls were stacked on the floor and Bob was giving in to the effects of another round of meds and the cool feel of Gerard’s hand running through his hair, that he realized it was Thursday night.
Bob was really tired of sleeping, and tired of waking up having to figure out what exactly was going on. Gerard’s bedroom was empty this time, and it wasn’t until Bob was on his way back from the bathroom that he noticed Gerard asleep on the couch. Bob rolled his eyes and leaned over the back of the couch, shaking Gerard.
“Bob?” Gerard mumbled, half asleep, and brought his hand up to cover Bob’s where it was still on his shoulder. “You okay?”
“Not dead yet,” Bob answered. “C’mon, the bed is plenty big enough for both of us, and it’s your bed. Plus, you slept with Frank when he was sick. You can’t tell me you’re okay with Frank’s germs but not mine.”
Gerard yawned as he stood up, stumbling a little on the way to the bedroom. He stood beside the bed and waited for Bob to stretch out before crawling in beside him. “I think that since you caught this from Frankie, I’m immune to it anyway,” he murmured, rubbing a hand over Bob’s back. “But even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t mind catching Bob-germs, so it’s okay.”
Bob thought maybe there was something important in that sentence he was missing, but he wasn’t sure what.
***** ***** ***** *****
“All recovered from your illness?” Frank asked cheerfully, jumping up onto the counter and nearly knocking over Bob’s coffee.
Bob glared at him. “We really need to tie a bell around your neck or something, give people some kind of warning that you’re coming.”
Frank laughed. “That’s the Bob I know and love. I guess that does mean you’re feeling better. Sorry for getting you sick.”
Bob didn’t know if Frank was expecting him to say something like “that’s okay,” but he wasn’t going to. Still. “Thanks for looking after me, and for driving me to Gerard’s.”
“No problem,” Frank said, swiping Bob’s cup and taking a long swig. “But I guess this is as good a time as any to tell you that I really, really like you, but you had better not fuck with Gee. I swear, no one will ever find your fucking body. I mean, I think you’re awesome and I’m glad Pete sent you out here to us, but Gerard is Gerard, so, you know.”
Bob nodded, even though he wasn’t sure what the intent was behind Frank’s vague threat. He wasn’t planning on fucking with Gerard.
***** ***** ***** *****
Spending a Saturday evening cooking wasn’t something Bob had ever anticipated doing, yet here he was, mixing up some type of vegan ratatouille and wild rice salad. Frank was sitting on the counter, sticking his fingers into the bowl of chocolate pudding Jamia was mixing up. Apparently he wasn’t allowed to actually help, but he took his position of taste tester very seriously.
“You don’t cook, Bob?” Jamia asked.
“Not really,” Bob answered. “If it doesn’t come out of a box or get microwaved, I usually won’t mess with it.”
Gerard leaned around Bob to scrape a cutting board of veggies into the pot. “We’re working on changing that, though.”
“As long as we have better results than we did with Frank,” Mikey added, walking in to grab a soda. “We had to repaint the entire kitchen after that fire.”
“I don’t see you helping,” Frank pointed out.
“I’m retired.” Mikey swiped a slice of red pepper off the counter. “I only have to cook one night a week now. It’s awesome.”
“Besides,” Gerard pointed out as Mikey headed back outside, “Mom’s got Mikey and Alicia working in the garden today, so he’s off the hook for this one.”
***** ***** ***** *****
Gerard must have had secret super powers of persuasion because more often than not Bob found himself running errands for Gerard on his days off. He still didn’t know why Gerard never left the house, but he was starting to see how easy it was for him to manage it. One of Gerard’s errands involved bringing food to Krista, a Tupperware of leftover lasagna for lunch and a re-heatable casserole to make for dinner. Krista had been really tired lately - with good reason. She only had about two weeks left before her due date and it seemed like her belly was getting bigger every day - and Gerard didn’t like the idea of her and Ray eating takeout or quick meals.
When she swung the door open, she looked more bright-eyed and energetic than Bob remembered her being the last few times he’d seen her. “Bob! I’m so glad you’re here! You can help me move this chair!”
She had her hair pulled up on top of her head and a rag in her hand like she’d been cleaning. Bob held up the bag of food and Krista waved him in, leading the way to the kitchen. She stopped suddenly, one hand on her stomach and the other braced on the wall, and Bob could see the discomfort in her closed-eye expression even as she forced out a few even, measured breaths.
“You okay?”
She nodded, and after a minute or so whatever it was passed and she opened her eyes to smile at Bob before continuing into the kitchen, her steps just a little slower and a little more unsteady than they were before.
Ray had said Krista had been having false contractions for about a week now, and the fact that Bob knew there was an actual name for that - Braxton Hicks - was more than he’d ever expected to know about childbirth.
Krista took the bag from Bob, putting both the casserole and the Tupperware into the fridge.
“I’m pretty sure Gerard meant for you to eat that,” he pointed out.
Krista shrugged. “I will. I’m just not very hungry today.”
Bob was skeptical. He’d seen how much food she had been putting away lately, and not hungry wasn’t normal. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Of course! Now come help me move the recliner in the living room. It’s Ray’s favorite place to sit and I know that the baby’ll like it more if it’s in the corner by the window.”
Bob didn’t ask why she didn’t wait for Ray to get home to move the chair, or how a newborn was even going to know what a window was. He’d already figured out that having babies made people so fucking strange. Just the week before, Bob had been forced to endure an entire discussion on the pros and cons of pacifiers. In his opinion, if it shut up a crying baby, a pacifier was both healthy and vitally necessary for everyone involved.
Bob sighed and went over to the chair, waving Krista away when she moved to help. “Don’t touch it.”
“I’m pregnant, not helpless,” Krista protested, but it didn’t carry much weight when she grabbed onto the back of the couch and turned away from Bob, tensing up again. He waited until the hopefully-still-fake contraction passed and busied himself moving the chair when Krista turned back around.
Krista was either being difficult because he wouldn’t let her help or else she was seriously determined to have the chair in the just the precise position, but Bob dutifully moved the heavy recliner several times before she was happy with the placement.
“Perfect!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together with a bright smile, but the smile dropped quickly. “OH!” This time, Bob was the closest thing to grab on to, and he winced as her grip tightened on his arm but didn’t move away. Instead, he brought his other arm around her back to help support her.
“Been happening like that long?” he asked when she was breathing normally again.
“Braxton Hicks,” she answered. “But that one was more intense than the others.”
“I don’t think those are practice contractions.” Bob led Krista over to the couch and made her sit down. Maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t completely tuned out Ray’s ramblings the past few weeks because he knew that true labor contractions will get longer in length, closer in frequency and stronger in intensity, which seemed to be what was happening here. He pulled out his phone and dialed Ray’s number.
Luckily, the extent of Bob’s involvement was driving Krista to meet Ray at the hospital and then going back to Gerard’s to wait for the phone call that their little family had a new member.
***** ***** ***** *****
Bob didn’t know what kind of luck had let Matt to them, but he was thankful for it. He didn’t mind working long hours and weekend days, didn’t mind when Bob or Mikey assigned him the crappy jobs like sorting through the new arrivals or dealing with the teenies. He didn’t hesitate when Bob needed someone to cover when he was sick. He had numbers for all the best takeout places in the area, and he knew most of the delivery drivers so they always got their food in record time. He knew where everything was, no matter which side of the store it was on or who put it there. He understood the complicated accounting system Gabe and Frank had installed. Okay, maybe it wasn’t really that complicated, but it wasn’t something Bob or Mikey was eager to learn.
That wasn’t the point anyway. The point was, sometimes Bob thought Matt was too good to be true, but most of the time he just hoped he could figure out a way to keep him.
When Matt let it slip that it was his birthday - he brought in the half a cake that was leftover from celebrating with his parents - Bob used that as an excuse to give Matt a bonus. Yeah, maybe paying for tattoo work at Rock City wasn’t the most creative or worthwhile bonus, but Matt seemed to like it. Plus, it kept Jamia occupied long enough for Bob to steal her car and install a decent sound system in it. It was an all-around winning situation.
***** ***** ***** *****
Bob walked down the basement steps and came to an abrupt halt, looking around. The main area of the basement was clean. Not like, oh, let’s push some of the stuff out of the way so we can actually tell there’s a couch down here, clean. No, it was really fucking clean, like the floor had been swept and mopped and the couch had clean sheet spread out over it and there were no stacks of books in the corner and the unrelenting layer of dust that seemed to accumulate was gone.
Bob started to take a step back up the stairs, certain he’d somehow fallen into the Twilight Zone, when the bathroom door opened and Gerard came out, wrapped in a towel and accompanied by a cloud of steam. Bob knew that Gerard had just taken a shower yesterday; he remembered the damp towels on the bathroom floor. And, ignoring the fact it was creepyweird how he knew so much about Gerard’s bathing habits, Gerard never took a shower two days in a row.
“Who are you and what have you done with Gee?”
Gerard jumped, startled, but grinned when he saw Bob. “Ray and Krista are bringing Hannah over to see me. I don’t want her to think her Uncle Gerard is a slob.”
“Her Uncle Gerard is a slob,” Bob pointed out. “And she’s just a baby, only a few weeks old.”
Gerard waved a hand dismissively, “Totally not the point,” and disappeared into his bedroom.
Bob sighed as he dropped down on the couch and propped his feet up on the coffee table. He could almost hear Frank now, “Yeah, sure, he changed the sheets for you, but he honest-to-God cleaned for Hannah.” Bob really wasn’t jealous of a newborn. That would be ridiculous. Besides, the basement - and Gerard - could probably stand to be cleaned more often.
“Feet off the table,” Gerard ordered, coming past and pushing at Bob’s shoes. “We don’t want Hannah to think her Uncle Bob is lacking in manners.”
Bob almost pointed out that he wasn’t Hannah’s uncle and that he actually did have manners but liked to put his feet on the damn coffee table. He didn’t though, because who was he to try and ruin the delusions Gerard was determined to instill in the baby?
***** ***** ***** *****
Mikey was pacing back and forth in the apartment when Bob and Frank walked in. He glanced towards the bedroom before he whispered, “They lost Alicia’s ring! What the fuck am I supposed to tell her?”
“Her engagement ring?” Bob asked.
“No, her actual ring. I swiped it off the bathroom counter to take with me, so that I could take it with me and make sure I got the right size ring.”
“Tell her Bunny ate it,” Frank said, like it was a perfectly reasonable explanation.
Mikey stared at Frank for a minute then shook his head. Bob agreed with Mikey, but before he could offer a suggestion of his own, Alicia walked in.
“Hey, babe, have you seen my ring? I thought I set it on the counter but I can’t find it.”
“Bunny ate it,” Frank said quickly. “Totally my fault, I knocked it in the floor and she must have thought it was food. I’m sure you’ll have it back in a few days. Uh, I'm late meeting Jamia, I gotta go.”
Mikey, Alicia, and Bob all watched him leave.
“Bunny ate my ring?” Alicia asked, the disbelief clear in her voice.
Mikey didn’t seem inclined to say anything, so Bob nodded. “Yeah, it was the damnedest thing. Hey, uh, I need Mikey to come down to the store with me. Minor emergency. We’ll be back in a little bit.”
Bob grabbed Mikey’s arm and pulled him towards the door. When they were in the hallway, Bob let go but kept walking, Mikey right behind him.
“So, now what?” Mikey asked when they got to the car.
“We drive to the store and come back,” Bob suggested. “And hopefully come up with a plan along the way.”
“Yeah, except you and Frank just told Alicia that Bunny ate her ring.”
“Well, yeah, but that buys us a couple days, actually. Hopefully the jewelers will find her ring by then. And if not, you’re planning on proposing to next weekend, right? So if nothing else, the diamond will distract her.”
“I hope you’re right,” Mikey said, staring out the window.
“I am.” Bob was pretty sure on this. “Oh, by the way, did Pete call you?”
“Pete? No, I haven’t heard from him in a few weeks. Why?”
“I talked to Patrick this afternoon. You owe me fifty bucks.”
***** ***** ***** *****
“No fucking way, Gee. We are not spending the evening watching Ace of Cakes again.”
Gerard shrugged and Bob could tell he was trying to hide a smile. “My basement, my tv, my choice. If you don’t like it, you can always go home.”
Bob thought about it, about the house he shared with Brian, about the couch that didn’t have a distinct Gerard-shaped indentation in the seat and paint stains on the cushions, about the fifty-two inch television in the living room and having the remote all to himself since Brian was out with Marcy or Margie or something. Of course, at his house there was also no random pointless facts brought up by the commercials, no leftover slices of Mikey’s pumpkin bread, and no Gerard.
That last one was the kicker.
Preferring to spend the evening with Gerard didn’t mean he wanted to watch Ace of Cakes again though. Bob reached for the remote that was on the cushion between them and flipped to the guide channel.
“Hey!” Gerard protested, grabbing for the remote.
Bob laughed and held it above his head, out of Gerard’s reach. He wasn’t expecting Gerard to crawl across the couch and halfway into Bob’s lap. He was surprised enough that Gerard ended up with the remote, moving back to his own side of the couch and changing the channel with a smirk.
Bob hesitated only a moment, and instead of going for the remote, he went after Gerard. He was decidedly too old for this, settling a battle for the remote with a tickle fight, but he’d seen both Mikey and Frank use Gerard’s weak spots against him, and besides, Gerard’s laughter was adorable and infectious. Bob was a little breathless when he finally ended up with the remote in his possession once more, but he couldn’t really celebrate the victory. When he looked down, Gee was staring up at him, the laughter in his eyes tinged with something else. Bob couldn’t resist closing his eyes and closing the distance between them to kiss Gerard.
Gerard kissed back, bringing one arm up around Bob’s neck and pressing up against him. Bob dropped the remote and shifted, deepening the kiss. He pulled away when the sound of Gerard’s cellphone rang through the air.
“Let it ring.” Gerard licked his lips and tried to coax Bob back into the kiss.
Bob shook his head, pushing himself up off the couch. “Sorry, Gee, I didn’t mean…” Bob grabbed his shoes and stood up without putting them on. “Sorry,” he repeated, running up the basement stairs and ignoring the fact that Gerard was calling his name behind him.
***** ***** ***** *****
Bob glanced at the display on his phone, saw it was Gerard, and shoved the whole thing under his pillow. He didn’t want to apologize, or explain, or listen to Gerard trying to do either, not until he had things straight in his own mind. Which wasn’t coming along too well.
He turned his attention back to the photographs spread out in front of him. He had wanted to surprise Gerard with some new pictures to hang on the basement wall, but he hadn’t decided which ones he liked best. He knew which ones he wanted for himself, and he couldn’t decide if it was fair that he just give Gerard copies of the same ones.
There was one of Frank and Jamia in the kitchen, Jamia standing between Frank’s spread legs and wiping a dab of icing across Frank’s cheek. They were both laughing, and Bob remembered that afternoon had devolved into an all-out icing war.
There was another of Gerard, stretched out on the couch with his head in Bob’s lap and his sketchbook falling off his stomach. Bob was looking down at Gerard when the picture was taken, fondness and affection clear in his expression. Bob thought maybe it was too telling, like he was giving away his own secrets.
Bob’s favorite picture from the set was of himself and Hannah. She was tiny and pink and almost lost in the folds of the black hoodie he’d been wearing, but she hadn’t fussed at all when Krista put her in Bob’s arms, just stared up at him with her little, unfocused baby blue eyes, and Bob had maybe fallen a little bit in love.
Bob sighed and shuffled all the photographs back into their envelope. Nearly every memory he had made since moving to New Jersey either involved Gerard or could be directly related back to him. It wasn’t making it easy for Bob to figure out what he was going to do.
***** ***** ***** *****
“Can I help you find something?” Bob didn’t mean to sound so testy, but he was tired and Mikey had brought him a Tupperware of leftover lasagna that made Bob feel guilty about ignoring Gerard’s phone calls all week, and this guy had been wandering around the store for damn near half an hour.
When the guy turned around, Bob was surprised to recognize him from one of Gerard’s pictures - a little older and a little scruffier and a lot more covered in ink, but definitely one of Gerard’s friends. He smiled at Bob, offering his hand. “Hi, I’m Jepha.”
Bob shook his hand warily, “Bob.”
"Oh, you're Bob! Gerard talks about you all the fucking time, man. Gee seems to be pretty fond of you. I was kinda hoping to meet you and make sure of that myself. Although I’m sure Frank’s already given you the ‘you hurt him, we hurt you’ lecture. He was always pretty good at that, even if he’s probably out of practice."
Bob wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he didn’t.
Jepha seemed quite content to ramble on, though, so it didn’t matter much. “I would have introduced myself but you seemed to be pretty intent on glaring holes in your computer screen. I’m waiting on Mikeyway over there to get off the phone, but he doesn’t seem to be in too much of a hurry. Or in a better mood than you, actually.”
Yeah, Bob was pretty sure Mikey was talking to the jewelers who still hadn’t found Alicia’s ring. He was planning on staying the fuck out of Mikey’s way for the rest of the afternoon. But it wasn’t his place to tell Jepha that.
“I knew I should have just had Gerard send the design with Brian, but I kinda wanted to check this place out. You and Mikey have a good setup going here. I like your local section. I think some of these guys were around back in the day, only they’re in different bands now. Makes me wanna drag out our old demos and play them, y’know? Bert always believed our band was gonna make it big. We were ready to conquer the world before the accident.”
Bob was about to ask exactly what Jepha was talking about, but suddenly Frank came running through the shop, stopping short when he saw Jepha.
“Jepha! “ Frank threw his arms around Jepha in one of his patented Iero-hugs. “I didn’t know you were coming down! Where’s Quinn?”
“He’s back in the city. It’s just me this time. I’m picking up a couple of new pieces from Mikey.”
“But he’s coming down this weekend, right? For the party thing?”
They had a party planned at This Is Ivy League to celebrate the fact that Mikey and Bob had survived their first quarter and actually managed to stay in the black.
“Yeah, of course! He’s actually closing the gallery. We’ll both be here all weekend.”
“Success!” Mikey said, coming to join them. “They found the ring! Now, instead of being a dead man this time next week, I’ll be an engaged one!”
“I’m not sure there’s much of a difference,” Frank teased, ducking out of the way when Mikey pretended to hit him.
***** ***** ***** *****
Bob wasn't sure why Brian was home again. He wasn't complaining, obviously, since it was actually Brian's house, and it was nice not to be home moping alone. Moping was always better when you had someone to share the misery with. And beer, that helped too. But Brian had been at the house every night this week, and that just wasn't like Brian. If Bob had been thinking about it, he would've asked, maybe hinted around to see if something was up, but he was still too preoccupied with the stranger - Jepha - that had been in the shop that afternoon.
Pizza and beer in front of cop dramas on the television was quickly becoming a ritual between them, and Bob was really trying to figure out why the girl who was married to the one detective apparently had a baby with another one when he suddenly blurted out, "Who's Bert?"
Brian didn't answer him, so Bob kicked the edge of his chair. "Brian. There was this guy that came into the store today, Jepha something, and he said he used to be in a band with Bert. Apparently I'm supposed to know who that is and I have no clue. Help me out here?"
Brian looked at Bob. “Gerard didn’t tell you about Bert?”
“No, but there are all these secrets surrounding Gerard, I’m a little afraid to ask questions.”
“Gerard’ll tell you anything if you ask. Or he’ll assume you already know.”
“Well, I don’t know. And I’m not asking Gerard.” That was mainly because Bob wasn’t talking to Gerard right now, but Brian didn’t need to know that.
Brian sighed, getting up out of his chair. “I’m gonna need another beer for this conversation. Want one?” He didn’t wait for an answer and brought one for Bob anyway. “You seriously don’t know about Bert? Or about the accident, and why Gerard stays home all the time?”
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking. The whole Gerard not leaving the house thing came up once and I thought Mikey was gonna kill me with his eyes, and I got the impression Frank would be worse, so I let it go.”
Brian peeled at the label of his bottle, but Bob didn’t think he was actually stalling. It seemed more like he was getting his thoughts together.
“For someone who’s afraid of needles, Gerard really likes ink. Art appreciation or whatever. He used to come around the shop with Frank - this was way back before I even had my own place. The accident was five years or so ago, and this had to be a year or two before that. Fuck, we’re all getting old. Gerard was working some bullshit job at the time, I don’t even remember what it was because it really wasn’t important, just something to help put Mikey through school.
“Anyway, one day Jepha was in there when Gerard and Frank came by, and they all started talking. Jepha was in a band, just a local one but they were gaining recognition by that time, and he invited us to come out to one of their shows. Somehow that led to Gerard hooking up with Bert, who was their lead singer. I think it was because Bert was a little special in his own way, and he recognized something in Gerard. But he always treated Gee like he was something important, like he was somehow more than the way Gerard saw himself.”
“So Bert was Gerard’s boyfriend?”
Brian nodded. “Yeah, but they were kinda fucked up. We all were. There was a lot of drinking, a lot of drugs, a lot of days that kinda blurred together. Bert and Gerard - well, I think that you really should ask Gee, when it comes to them. Because I was an outsider to that. But they were together for a while.
“The band, The Used, got offered a contract with one of the smaller labels, and we were all out celebrating. Bert and Gerard were pretty fucked up, and they shouldn’t have been driving, but I think the same could have been said for any of us that night. But it was them - there was some kind of accident, and it wasn’t even their fault. A truck ran a red light, and maybe if Bert hadn’t been drinking he would’ve been able to react quicker or something, but they were hit, and the car just fucking crumpled. I remember seeing it the next day and thinking there was no way that anyone could have gotten out of that alive.”
Brian fell silent, focused on his beer, and Bob let it rest for a minute before prompting, “But Gerard did?”
“But Gerard did,” Brian repeated. “He walked away from that shit without a scratch, which was so fucking unbelievable. Bert… I’m pretty sure he was killed instantly. I heard from one of the paramedics that Gerard wouldn’t get out of the car, that he wouldn’t let go of Bert’s hand and wouldn’t quit talking to him. But that night - like I said, we were all pretty fucked up, but what I remember most about that night was getting to the hospital with Frank and Quinn, and Jepha and Brendan were already there, and there was just all this blood, on Gerard and on them where they’d been hugging him. And Frank puked on my shoes.” He laughed a little at that, and then tipped his beer up.
Bob didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything, just tried to let it sink in to the background music from a Saturn commercial.
Finally, Brian started talking again. “After the funeral, Gerard basically crawled into his bed and didn’t come back out. Mikey had come home from Chicago, and I think he and Frank were taking turns on watch, sitting with Gerard in the basement. We tried - me and Ray and Mrs. Way - we tried to talk Mikey into going back to Chicago, at least to finish the semester, but he wouldn’t. The three of them would just hang out in the basement, watching Food Network. Which was a leftover from Bert; he and Gerard would get fucked up, watch Food Network even though neither of them could cook worth shit.
“Quinn and Jepha and Branden didn’t come around much. I think… we were all friends, but Gerard and Bert were the tie that kept us together, you know? And they had just lost their best friend and their band, their future, all in one night, so I think it was different for them. And the rest of us… maybe we catered to Gerard a little too much because we let him get away with wallowing in his guilt and misery. That’s the reason he doesn’t leave the house - no one wanted to force the issue, and it was just easier to bring the world to him than to force him back out into it.
“All the cooking shows came in handy, though, because Mikey finally decided he wasn’t going to make Gerard leave the house but he was going to do something, so they started trying out all these recipes, making their own variations and shit. Frank tried to help at first, but he is a fucking disaster in the kitchen, so that didn’t last long. But he did meet Gabe, which led to meeting Alex and Ryland. And when they were opening up This Is Ivy League, they hired Mikey to work in the kitchens, so that worked out like it was supposed to, I guess.”
“That’s why Gerard cooks, then, for Thursday nights? And why he has this strange obsession with Tivo’ing shows off Food Network for us to watch?” Bob had never actually questioned those things - they just were - but he could see the reason behind them now. “So why Thursday night?”
“It was Mikey’s only night off when he first started working at This Is Ivy League. So that became the designated night for dinner. Mikey hasn’t missed a Thursday night, ever. Gerard hadn’t either, until a few weeks ago when he decided to skip family dinner to hang out in the basement with a sick friend.” Brian looked pointedly at Bob and Bob immediately felt a little guilty.
“What about Gee’s art?”
Brian rolled with the subject change easily enough. “He just started painting again a few years ago. He was still doing things like designing tattoos for Frank and sketching small pieces, but it wasn’t until Quinn and Jepha opened a gallery in New York that he did anything major. Quinn came to Thursday night dinner one night and mentioned it, and Gerard just… he decided it was time to start back up or whatever. Makes me feel lucky to have pieces with his name on them in my shop. Quinn charges outrageous prices for some of that shit.”
Bob nodded again and stared at the television, pretending to watch but he really didn’t even know what show was running on the screen. “I kissed him,” he finally said.
“Gerard?”
“Yeah.” Bob set his beer down on the floor beside him and covered his face with his hand.
Brian was apparently waiting for Bob to say more, and when he didn’t, Brian laughed. “Bob, I think everyone’s been waiting for you two to hook up. Why else do you think Frank was threatening you?”
“Uh, what? I thought Frank was threatening me about Jamia. And we didn’t hook up, I just kissed him and…”
“And left?” Brian asked. “Is that why you’ve been ignoring him all week, moping around here and shit?”
“Hey, you have no room to talk about moping around the house because you’re doing the same thing. And I’m not ignoring him, I’m just… giving us both some space.”
“Space, yeah, okay. You haven’t been home this many nights in a row in months, man. I don’t quite believe that you’re not ignoring him.”
Bob didn’t say anything. He knew he was being ridiculous, but everything about Gerard was ridiculous. He really liked Gerard, even when he hadn’t slept in three days and hadn’t showered in longer because he was so involved in some project. He didn’t want to think Gerard only kissed him because it was convenient. It wasn’t like there were a lot of guys to choose from in the Ways’ basement.
***** ***** ***** *****
Gerard maybe should have looked out of place in the middle of the crowd at This Is Ivy League, but he didn’t. These were his friends, and he looked completely comfortable talking and laughing with Brian and Jepha on one side of him and Frank and Jamia on the other. Bob was still watching him when Mikey came up to stand beside him.
“It’s nice that your brother decided to come out tonight, to be here to support you,” Bob said. He wasn’t expecting it when Mikey hauled off and punched him in the shoulder. For all that it was a friendly punch and Mikey was Mikey, it hurt.
“He’s not here because of me, asshole.”
Bob stared at Mikey, rubbing his shoulder. “What the fuck, man?”
Mikey rolled his eyes. “Go talk to him. Get your shit straight so I can quit worrying about the two of you and focus on worrying about proposing to Alicia, okay?”
Bob watched Mikey walk off and was still trying to figure out just what to say - he couldn’t just walk up to Gerard and ask him to talk because up to this point Frank hadn’t tried to kill him, but that luck might not hold out once Frank realized that Bob and Gerard were pretty much fighting. In the end, it didn’t matter because Gerard came up to him.
“Um, hi,” Gerard said, shifting nervously in front of Bob.
“Hey, you left the house,” Bob replied, even though that wasn’t at all what he had meant to say.
Gerard gave him a small smile. “Well, yeah, there are some things that are worth leaving the house for.”
Bob wasn’t sure exactly what he meant by that, but he hadn’t been sure about anything lately, so it wasn’t new territory. “Look, about that night, I didn’t… I mean, I don’t want you to think…”
“Did you not notice that I kissed you back?” Gerard sounded amused.
“Well, yeah, but it’s not like you have a lot of guys coming over to kiss you, you know? I don’t want to do something that’ll fuck up our friendship - and everything else I’ve got here in New Jersey - because I’m convenient for you.”
“Bob, it’s not because you were there. I haven’t wanted to even think about being in a relationship with anyone for a long time, and yeah, that’s mostly because I’ve got the same people around me all the time and they wouldn’t fit into that category. But they’re my friends and I was perfectly content with the way things were going until you came along.”
“I’m sorry?” Bob offered.
Gerard laughed. “Don’t be. I’m glad you came along. I’m kinda fond of you, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“Yeah, so everyone keeps telling me.”
“You are so oblivious. It’s a little adorable. Will you just kiss me already?”
And Bob may have been oblivious, but he wasn’t stupid. Still, they were in the middle of This Is Ivy League, surrounded by all their friends, so Bob kept the kiss a lot more tame than he wanted to, breaking it off when Mikey came up and threw an arm around each of them.
“Enough with the display, you two. I’m glad to see you made up, but you’re stealing my spotlight.”
Bob laughed and let Gerard thread their fingers together as they followed Mikey across the room to where Alicia was standing with Krista and the baby. The crowd got conspicuously quiet, which led Bob to believe that Mikey’s secret plan wasn’t really much of a secret after all.
When Mikey asked for everyone’s attention, Bob slid his phone out of his pocket and dialed Patrick. Patrick, Pete, and Ashlee weren’t able to make it to New Jersey for the party, but Pete really didn’t want to be left out of this, so Bob had agreed to put them on speaker for Mikey’s big moment.
“Tonight’s a big night,” Mikey was saying. “We’re here to celebrate the fact that Bob and I made it three months without killing one another, or Frank, and we’re actually making money. Not much, but it’s better than we expected to do. Everyone in this room has a part in that success, so thank you for supporting us. Some of you deserve more thanks than others, like Brian and Frank and Gabe and Matt. I hope you know how much we appreciate everything you’ve done and everything you continue to do.”
Bob nodded, agreeing with everything Mikey was saying and content to let him be the one to say it.
“Disenchanted is the main reason we’re all here tonight, but we have more reasons to celebrate. The newest member of our family, Hannah Elizabeth Toro.” Mikey pointed her out and Ray held her up, still a tiny little thing lost in the ruffles and lace of her party dress, and everyone cheered. “She’s got some growing to do before her name actually fits her, but she’s special.
“Also, Quinn and Jepha are moving their gallery to a bigger building, and they may actually get to have Gerard show up at one of his art shows.” Mikey looked back at Gerard and smiled, calling attention to the fact that Gerard was there but not making a big deal out of it.
“The biggest thing about tonight, though, is celebrating love and friendship. We’ve all grown and changed over the years, added new people into the mix, but I think we’re all doing pretty well with that. It hasn’t been that long since we met Bob, or Jamia, or Matt, but I really can’t imagine you guys not being here tonight.”
Mikey reached for Alicia’s hand and pulled her closer to him before dropping down on one knee. Alicia’s free hand flew to her mouth and Bob could already see the tears starting to form in her eyes.
“Alicia Marie Simmons, since that morning you pulled over to help when my car was dead on the side of the road, I knew that you were special. Every day I find another reason to love you. I don’t ever want to imagine my life without you. Will you marry me?”
Alicia didn’t answer at first. Gerard squeezed his hand, and Bob knew he wasn’t the only one in the room holding his breath.
“Say yes!” Pete yelled through the phone, voice far away and tinged with laughter. “Or I come claim Mikey for my harem!”
“Fuck you, Wentz!” Alicia called in Bob’s direction, but she was laughing as she turned back to Mikey. “Of course I will.”
“Yes?”
“Yes!”
Bob cheered along with the rest of the room when Alicia pulled Mikey to his feet and kissed him, then turned to Gerard for a kiss of his own.
***** ***** ***** *****
Bob was standing next to the punch bowl with Jamia, watching over the reception. Watching their friends. Frank, Gerard, Brian, and Pete had gone outside to vandalize Mikey’s new car - a wedding present from Gerard - and Patrick and Ashlee were over in the corner comparing baby notes with Ray and Krista. Bob had heard talk earlier of arranging play dates for Hannah and Bronx, but he apparently he wasn’t the only one who thought the babies were a little too young for play dates that involved plane rides, so that plan had been put on hold. Matt was dancing with one of the bridesmaids. Jepha and Quinn had cornered one the wedding photographers - some kid named Jon that Pete had brought in from Chicago - and were trying to talk him and his partner into submitting some prints to their new gallery. Mikey and Alicia were in a corner of the room, getting a head start on their honeymoon. Gabe was talking shit to Brian’s date, who looked entirely unimpressed by him, which only made him try harder. The room was filled with chatter and laughter and the sound of a good time.
Patrick walked up to Bob, shaking his head. “Pete just came back in with streamers hanging out the back of his pants. I am seriously afraid to see what they’ve done to the car. Honestly, he’s like a kid all the time.”
“Hey, you’re the one that’s married to him,” Bob pointed out, gesturing to the gold band on Patrick’s hand that matched Pete’s.
“Yeah, well.” Patrick looked a little bit like he still couldn’t believe that himself. “It was because of the baby, I kinda had to. Pete still wants a ceremony, though, because he says it wasn’t fair that you weren’t there to give me away or some shit.”
“Well, I promised to come back to Chicago for that, so just let me know when. Only, don’t let him plan the thing, or you’re going to end up with an Alice in Wonderland themed commitment ceremony.”
“Actually, that might be pretty appropriate,” Patrick said. “Most days I feel like life with Pete is comparable to falling down a rabbit hole.”
Bob laughed because he could totally see the validity of that statement. “I can only imagine. I mean, in the past year and a half, he’s managed to have your best friend move halfway across the country, get you involved in a serious relationship with him and his wife, and make you a dad. It’s a bit surreal.”
Patrick started to say something else, but was interrupted by one of the bridesmaids coming over to grab Jamia’s arm, pulling her away to where a crowd was gathering around Alicia for the tossing of the bouquet. Bob and Patrick watched from the back as a few girls scuffled over the flowers and one of them came out victorious, raising them about her head.
Bob was about to make a remark about how silly the tradition was, fighting over a wedding token that supposedly meant the bearer would be the next to get married, but Frank and Gerard were suddenly right beside them.
“Oh, hey,” Frank said, leaning in to kiss Jamia’s cheek. “That means Mikey’s going to toss the garter next, right? I’m totally catching that thing, then you have to marry me.”
Gerard followed Frank into the crowd in the middle of the floor, and Bob could hear them arguing over who had more right to catch the garter.
Jamia leaned close to Bob. “Frank really doesn’t want to catch the garter. He’s just arguing with Gee to be arguing. We’ve already talked about getting married, and Frank’s pretty insistent that he won’t ask me until it’s legal for you and Gerard to get married too.”
Bob was a little surprised by that, even though he was used to Frank being… well, Frank. “And you’re okay with that? Waiting to get married?”
“I didn’t say I wanted to marry Frank,” Jamia answered with a grin, but Bob knew she was only joking because she was completely ridiculous about him. “Besides, I know he loves me. I don’t need a ring or a piece of paper or a fancy party to show that to the world. He shows me every day, and that’s what matters.”
Bob put his arm around Jamia and pulled her into a half-hug. He noticed that Frank and Gerard’s discussion seemed to be getting a little animated, and he was about to step away to go mediate when Brian laid his hand on his arm.
“I’ve got ‘em.”
Bob was more than willing to let Brian handle them. He’d had more practice at it, and if he chose a side he wasn’t going to have to sleep on the couch or be on the lookout for a not-so-sneaky prank in retaliation. Brian worked his way through the crowd and stepped in between Frank and Gerard at the same time that Mikey flung the garter over his head and into the crowd. The slip of fabric landed right in Brian’s hand, and the look on his face was priceless. Bob and Jamia both busted out laughing.
Frank and Gerard were both laughing as well when they made their way back to the punch table, Brian still in between them.
“Looks like Schechter is gonna be the next one to get tied down,” Frank said, wrapping his arms around Jamia. “Sorry, babe.”
“So, Brian, you got someone in mind?” Gerard asked.
Brian shook his head, looking across the room for Victoria. Bob knew that Brian and Victoria were just friends. She actually dated one of the bartenders from Midtown but Nate hadn’t been able to make the wedding so she had agreed to come with Brian. But there was some girl named Greta who Brian had actually brought back to his house on a couple occasions in the past few months. She was the only one that Bob had ever actually met because normally Brian didn’t go out with girls more than once, and he never brought them back home with him after the Charlene incident, which Bob had heard references to but didn’t know that actual story behind.
“It’s just superstition anyway,” Bob said, reaching for Gerard’s hand. “I think we promised Hannah a dance, Gee. We should go find her before Krista steals her away for a nap.”
Gerard let himself be led across the room and it wasn’t until they were dancing in an awkward triangle, Hannah on Bob’s hip with her sticky fingers tucked into the collar of Gerard’s shirt, that Gerard said, “You know something about Brian.”
“I know a lot about Brian. He’s my friend. And I’ll keep his secrets; it’s his business.”
“You are the worst gossip ever.” Gerard pretended to scowl at Bob, but it didn’t last long.
After the dance, Ray reclaimed his daughter, Krista asked Gerard to dance with her, and Bob found himself facing Mrs. Way.
“That’s one down,” Mrs. Way said, letting Bob lead her out onto the dance floor. “Now when are you and Gerard going to settle down?”
Bob laughed. “Are you trying to get us out of your basement?” He still technically lived at Brian’s, but more often than not he and Gerard were at the Ways’.
“No, actually, I was thinking of and letting Mikey and Alicia have the house. My sister invited me to come live with her in Florida, and I want to. I would just feel better about it if I knew that Gerard had someone to take care of him. I know he’s got Mikey and Frank and Brian and Ray all looking out for him, but it’s not the same. So, I’m asking you, are you planning on sticking around?”
Bob nodded solemnly. “Mrs. Way, I love your son. I don’t plan on going anywhere.”
Mrs. Way nodded back, just as solemn, but her eyes were twinkling with amusement. “That’s what I thought, I just needed to be sure.”
A few dances later, Bob ended up with his arms around Gerard once more. “Hey!” he said happily, leaning in for a kiss.
“Hey. What were you and Mom talking about so seriously?”
“Oh, I was asking for your hand in marriage, of course. I mean, I needed her formal approval, right?”
Gerard shook his head. “You’re like the prince that rescued me from the basement, I think that means you automatically earn the right to my hand. Plus, you’re polite and you help with the dishes and you make me smile. I’m pretty sure that she’d pick you over me any day.”
“If I’m the prince, does that make you the fairy tale princess?” Bob teased.
“Of course not,” Gerard scoffed. “Princesses have to be rescued from towers.”
“Oh, right,” Bob said, rolling his eyes. “I knew that.”
“Oh, shut up. You totally brought me breakfast in bed yesterday. I’m not the only romantic in this relationship.”
Yeah, okay. Bob couldn’t really dispute that. “Hey, you know what? I love you.”
“I knew that,” Gerard said, sliding his hands up to wrap around Bob’s neck and pull him into a kiss. “I love you, too.”
Bonus Tracks/Enhanced Content
Fanart:
Mikey, could you please ask your girlfriend to not molest me with her feet? by myaurasmiles
Fanmix(es):
It's Warmer in the Basement by thebunnyknows