Red… Blue… Red…

The artist somehow manages to make the two colors flow together to look almost like one, while still being clearly distinguishable from one another. It almost looks like the colors are running, flowing into the pitch black heart, of which only the outer lines have been done at this point, and then out again. The male with his paintbrush poised over the canvas hopes to turn this inspiration of his into a masterpiece. If he can just manage to get the heart to look like it is beating, then his painting would be very close to perfect, but that’s where the real problem comes in - how to truly bring the picture to life.

Gerard sighs in frustration as he pushes a dark tendril behind his ear. Maybe if he added more lines to the heart…? He nearly growls in annoyance as the onyx strand of hair escapes from behind his ear, and falls over his face again. Dropping the paintbrush on the table, he walks into the kitchen to turn on the coffee maker, before making his way to the bathroom, and pulling a hair tie from the cabinet. Once the mess of black hair is successfully tied back, and out of his face, he walks back to the kitchen to fill his (already used and reused) coffee mug, before returning to his unfinished canvas.

The tip of his paintbrush is dipped into the black paint, and comes back up to stroke deliberately over the canvas, instantly changing the entire picture, and giving more color to the frame. Gerard is so deep in concentration that he doesn’t even hear the key turning in the lock on the door over The Smiths playing in the background.

Frank enters the small apartment he shares with his boyfriend, and is greeted with loud music and the delightful sight of his beloved being completely absorbed in whatever new painting he is currently busy working on. Frank remains standing motionless in the doorway, watching his boyfriend’s face. He absolutely loves the look of pure concentration on Gerard’s face when he's busy working on his pieces. It's one of the most beautiful sights in the entire world to him. His brow is slightly furrowed as his eyes seem to zoom in on the canvas in front of him, while the tip of his tongue pokes out slightly at the side of his mouth. The strokes he makes with the paintbrush always mesmerizes the younger male. It looks so easy and fluid. Gerard, painting is the real art - even more so than the actual art in front of him. At least to Frank.

The male with the dark chocolatecolored hair carefully shuts the front door behind him, quietly placing his keys on the small table by the door. Gerard is so focused on his work that he doesn’t pay any attention to Frank sneaking up on him. The latter wraps his arms around his boyfriend from behind, causing Gerard to shriek loudly and jump. Instinct wants him to turn around and hit whoever is invading his private space, but recognition intervenes, reminding him that he is familiar and safe in the pair of arms wrapped around him, that he knows the owner very well, that he loves him.

“Fuck, Frank. You nearly gave me a heart attack,” he breaths, clutching a hand to his chest. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Frank giggles quietly, standing on his toes and kissing the taller man’s neck, causing Gerard to shiver. “I realized that. I didn’t mean to scare you, though. What are you working on?”

He tries to peek over Gerard’s shoulder, but the artist spins around in a flash and, with his hands on the other’s shoulders, steers him backwards.

“No peeking. It’s not finished yet.”

“Since when am I not allowed to see a painting before it’s finished?” Frank asks, almost indignantly.

“Since right now.”

“But… I like watching your paintings progress. I want to see what you do and how you change it over time, you know, watch them come alive.” he whines, flailing his hands a little, pout present on his kissable lips.

“Sorry, Frankie, but not this one. You’ll just have to suppress your curiosity for a while. I promise it will be worth the wait,” Gerard says, kissing his forehead.

Frank pouts. “What if curiosity gets the better of me?” he wants to know, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It’s just one time, Frank.” Gerard replies firmly.

“I don’t care. I want to see.”

“Tough.” Gerard smiles fondly down at his petulant boyfriend, who looks back at him and eventually sighs in defeat.

“Fine. You know what the only thing is I hate about you when you're painting?”

Gerard looks at him with both eyebrows raised in question. Frank reaches up to grab the band holding his hair back, and pulls it out.

“You tie your hair up, keeping it from hanging in your face, which I happen to find very sexy. And when your hair is tied behind you head, I can’t do this…” His sentence is finished in the form of an action, as he reaches out again, this time with both hands - one grabbing onto the back of Gerard’s head, while the other lovingly strokes through his hair, once, twice.

“I missed you,” he smiles, leaning up to peck Gerard's lips.

Gerard tightens his grip on the smaller man, preventing him from pulling away. Frank smiles into the kiss, his mind unable to keep from thinking about all the possibilities this kiss might hold. The days are always long while he's at work and away from Gerard. It's strange how accustomed you become to having someone around all the time, and when you're suddenly separated, how time seems to drag on forever. Especially after a night like the previous one, where they were celebrating. Repeatedely. That is why the best part of every day is coming home, and seeing his boyfriend - usually frowning, but nonetheless. Sometimes it's even better than waking up next to him every morning.

“You guys are so sweet it makes my stomach turn.”

Frank tips backwards, and it's only Gerard’s stronghold on him that keeps him from lying sprawled out on the floor. From his practically upside down position, he can see their best friend, Bert, standing in the doorway, watching them.

Bert is their neighbor - well, neighbor isn’t exactly the correct term, since he doesn’t live next door. Bert lives in the same building, though - only the floor below, and the couple met him the day they moved in about a year ago. The three people instantly connected and grew close.

They actually became best friends practically that very same day, and have been basically inseperably ever since.

“Be jealous,” Frank retorts, sticking his tongue out at the man with the long, greasy black hair.

Gerard frowns slightly at his boyfriend’s comment, because he knows that Bert is, in fact, jealous of their relationship. Maybe jealous is a too strong term, but they all know that Bert has terrible luck when it comes to relationships. Somehow he always manages to fall for the wrong people, and always ends up getting hurt. Gerard can’t even count the number of times he and Frank have had to cheer up a broken-hearted Bert. In other words, the whole love thing is a sensitive topic for the third man.

“Hey, Bert,” he greets the latter with a small, genuine smile.

He notices that Bert has already shut the door behind him. He and Frank were clearly very distracted by each other to not have noticed him come in. That's the great thing about living in the same building. Any one of them could just pop over to the other unannounced, and it will be perfectly fine.

Frank disentangles himself from Gerard, and turns around to face their friend, only to realize that maybe his remark probably wasn’t the best choice of words, because one look at Bert’s face is enough to tell him that something is very wrong.

“Come on, man. Let me get you a beer,” he offers, motioning for Bert to sit down while he turns around and heads for the kitchen.

“I love you,” Gerard mouths to him as he passes, and they both knew why. They always agree on serious matters like this. Of course they would gladly give up a night alone together in order to help a distressed friend, and that’s exactly what they're going to do tonight.

Notes

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