Gerard’s P.O.V.

I went outside to the parking lot, into the warm night air and lit a cigarette. I took a long drag and slowly exhaled, the smoke filling the air in front of me, disappearing as the wind blew. I looked up at the sky; I could barely see any stars. I chuckled to myself, Lisa Simpson was right about light pollution.
I heard the sound of the metal door closing behind me. I already knew who it was, but I turned around anyway.
“Hey,” I quietly greeted my friend.
“Hey.” Frank replied, not making eye contact and looking down at his shoes. I knew he wanted me to say something, but I just wasn’t sure what. He was still looking at the floor.
“Listen… about what happened—”
“Why’d you do it?” We both said at the same time. It was the first time he made eye contact. He kept my gaze for what seemed like an eternity and started walking towards me, still keeping the eye contact. He closed the distance between us in seven steps. I blinked and could suddenly feel his warm breath on my face, and when I opened my eyes, I could still see his hazel green ones intently staring into mine.
“I just want to know,” Frank whispered, “whether what I felt up there was real—”
“—Or just pure adrenaline.” I finished for him. I looked him straight in the eye, and took a step backward, at the same time pushing him away a little. He looked hurt by my actions. A wave of guilt swept over me, and I hated to see his pleading eyes, but I needed to reason with him.
“Frank, it was just a kiss. Onstage. To creep out all the homophobes.”
“It sure didn’t feel like that was the only reason.” I hated to admit it, but he was right. It didn’t feel like “just a kiss,” it was definitely more than that; he and I both felt and knew it, but I didn’t want to tell him that. I wasn’t sure if he could see what was going on through my head, and I didn’t want him to. I looked down and noticed that my cigarette was still in my hand, thin strings of smoke coming out of it. I let go and it fell onto the gravel of the parking lot as I brought my foot onto it, making it go out. Frank seemed to take advantage of this distraction, because the second I looked up he was in front of my face again.
“Gee, please, I need to know.” His voice was a whisper, his eyes were pleading, and his lips were so close. Close enough to mine.
“Kiss me, Gee.” And I did. I closed my eyes and leaned in towards him. Our lips met for the second time this day, and this time we had all the time in the world, no song-finishing to get in the way. We stayed like that for a while until Frank slung his arm around my neck, running his right hand through my hair. I followed by placing my arms around his waist, bringing him even closer. I felt his tongue brush my lower lip, thus parting my lips for him. His tongue slowly moved into my mouth, fighting with my tongue for dominance. He won and began slowly exploring every inch of my mouth, our lips slowly moving against each other. It definitely wasn’t adrenaline that we’d both felt onstage. It was just too good, felt too right, as if standing out there in the parking lot kissing Frank was the one and only thing I ever wanted to do, holding him close to me. After a while, to my dismay—and his, I hoped—we both had to stop for some air, and when I looked into his eyes, I knew he felt the same way I did.
We stood holding each other for a while, not kissing, not speaking, just looking into each other’s eyes every once in a while, breaking contact after a few seconds. A minute or two had probably passed by now, I decided to be the first to break the silence. I dropped my arms from around his waist, and he did the same, letting go of my neck and taking a step back.
“Now what?”
“Now what what?” He asked, answering my question with a question.
“Now what will we do? Apparently, it wasn’t adrenaline, it was more than that.” I stopped, not sure how to continue, not sure what I actually wanted to say. Frank wasn’t saying anything.
Right then, the metal door pushed open, and out came Ray’s bobbing fro, followed by his voice, which was talking to someone behind the door. We both quickly took a couple of steps back right before his face and the rest of him came out of the door.
“What were you two doing out here this whole time?” We both froze, and I hoped it wasn’t too noticeable. Luckily, he wasn’t waiting for an answer. “Anyway, we’re going back to the hotel now. Come pick up your stuff from the changing room.”
“Oh, ok.” Frank replied and went inside as I followed pursuit. Ray closed the door and walked behind me.
I picked up my suitcase, which included my stage clothes and makeup, and waited for the other guys to finish, sitting on a couch to wait. When they did, we all hopped on our tour bus and drove to the hotel. All the while, I was still thinking about what had happened, not joining in to the conversation that was going on around me; something about a great show and a great crowd and cats (Bob).
“Hey, you okay man?” Mikey had scooted onto the seat next to me without me noticing.
“Huh? What?” I answered, which received a raised eyebrow from Mikey. “Oh, um, yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired.” He didn’t move, just stared at me for a little while, judging whether or not I was lying. I’m sure he knew there was something else, but he didn’t press and eventually went off and joined back into the conversation. I liked that about Mikey. He knew me well enough to know when I did or didn’t want to talk about something. I saw Frank sitting next to Bob. I thought he was listening to the conversation, but then his eyes met mine for a second before Ray nudged his shoulder, asking him something. All the while in the tour bus, I was still thinking of the question, now what?

Notes

So this was as far as I'd written for this story. Genius little me, however, left a few sentences on how to continue the story. Sneak preview: two of the band members have to share a bed. hhmmmmm, I wonder who those two may be?

Anyway, please do let me know how you like this story so that I don't waste my time writing for no one.
Thank you all very much for reading,
Adelaide.