One-shots

He'd tried to convey it almost as many times as he'd tried to let it go, but the guilt was still settled inside the bottom of his gut and lungs, along with the faint ashes of all the cigarettes he'd violently smoked during the entire day. The wind was cold and sharp, seemingly slicing over the skin of his cheekbones and pushing his hair in his face. He reluctantly pulled his hand out of his pocket- which immediately started shivering when it caught a glimpse of the brisk cold- and shoved the strands of his hair sideways, frowning slightly as the unruly locks barely found their place behind his ear. He wanted to cut them so bad, he really did, but he didn't let him. Out of sheer spite, Frank would think about going home and simply shaving all of his head off, but he knew better than that. He wasn't the one supposed to be angry, he was aware of that fact. He was aware of it just as much as he was aware of the one that he really did act like a dick. Fuck, if he were Gerard, he'd never forgive himself. Never.

He flicked the butt of his cigarette into the river, pollution the last thing on his mind. It wasn't that he didn't care about ecology or whatever; it was just that it really wasn't the time to think about it. Actually, he would've been grateful if he was able to care about pollution at that moment, honestly. But now, nothing that was flashing before his eyes had anything to do with smog and dirt. Dirt, actually, maybe, when he remembered the smell of Gerard's hair when it wasn't washed, but that really wasn't something that would annoy him, or even make him feel uncomfortable enough to call Gerard out on it. Calling Gerard out on anything seemed like a huge hypocrisy right now. Dirt, actually, was all Frank felt like while pacing around the filthy streets of New York City, asking himself if he had the balls to come home tonight. He was sure Gerard wouldn't lock him out, Gerard wasn't like that, but that didn't mean he was brave enough to actually show his face after all he'd done.

He'd lost his shit, that was for sure, he just hadn't been planning on losing it completely. He'd yelled, he'd thrown things, but it would've been okay if he'd stopped there. Gerard knew about his anger management issues- he wouldn't have been too fazed by Frank's outburst. He would've given him a silent treatment for a night or so, made Frank sleep on the couch and two days later everything would've been fine.

But this time that wasn't the case. Frank had never raised a hand on Gerard before. The look in Gerard's eyes after Frank's fist had left his jaw had been the most painful experience Frank had ever been through. Then he'd run out, simple as that. And he'd been out for the last five or six hours. He was terrified of what would happen when he came home. If he came home. He hoped he wouldn't chicken out upon reaching the threshold of their apartment.
He stopped by the department store just to buy some more smokes; he needed at least one more cigarette to gain the courage to come home. He'd bought Gerard a pack, too, the Marlboro Lights he liked to poison himself with. He always said they tasted less like tobacco and more like air, plus it would take longer for them to kill him. Frank had never been a Lights kind of guy; he'd been faithful to the Reds since he was fifteen. Suicide was all about making stuff quick, right?

He was sure Gerard wouldn't be really friendly to him when he got home. He'd be happy if Gerard even decided to talk to him in the next two months time.

Darn, he'd be happy if Gerard decided not to ditch his sorry ass and his stuff out of the fucking window.

The one cigarette he needed turned into three, and the three turned into six as he was watching the sky turn into a much darker shade of gray, reminding him it was probably time to head home. He tried to get his hopes up while walking towards their block, but as he got closer to the tall yellow building he completely abandoned the idea. He was worried, really worried, more about Gerard than himself this time. He really wanted to take that punch back now. He knew Gerard was someone who was going through enough emotional pain as it was, and now he'd just had to make him suffer harder. His fist probably hadn't done that much damage to his jaw, but Frank was sure he'd shattered his heart in pieces with the action.

He entered the building with a large sigh which the hallway echoed for him. It was all dark and cold, but Frank wasn't planning on turning on the light. It would just make his own shadow more visible, and he was disgusted by anything that came from him at the moment. He climbed the four flights of stairs it took to get to their floor, the burden on his back increasing every second he got further up. He was there way too soon, and he didn't like it.

He saw how the dim street lighting mixed with the moonlight illuminated the hallway through the window, just barely brushing the black wood of the door at the end of it. His stomach turned when he started reluctantly pacing towards it, his heart rate speeding up. He was close now, too close for his liking, but his hand grabbed the doorknob instinctively. It was just all too familiar for him, too familiar to go against his habits. He felt like what he was doing was some sort of deadly for him, like he would get slaughtered as soon as he stepped into the apartment.

Surprisingly, no one murdered him when he did. The apartment was silent, too silent. And dark. But Gerard was home, he knew that. He hanged his coat on the rack in the hallway and walked into the kitchen, scanning the room for a sign of Gerard's presence. There was a coffee mug on the counter, the only indicator Gerard had left their room after their fight occurred. Frank placed the Lights he bought for Gerard beside the mug; knowing Gerard's favorite combination in the world was the clichéd coffee and cigarettes.

He checked the bathroom and the study, no sign of Gerard. He knew that even looking for him in those places was in vain, because Gerard was definitely in their room. Frank was just buying time and looking for excuses not face him yet.

He carefully opened the door to their room. It was dark, much darker than the rest of the apartment; Gerard had probably shut the blinds. Frank barely registered a sitting form on their bed. The silence was mortifying, but he knew he had to go there. It would be his fault if he didn't try to make peace. It really would. And since the list of the things he would never be able to forgive himself was already long enough, he wasn't planning on prolonging it further.

“I always knew you were strong, but damn,” he heard Gerard's faint voice. There was a tad bit of Gerard's signature sour humor in it, enough to make Frank's hopes ignite.

“You have no idea how sorry I am,” Frank said in a croaked tone, which made Gerard let out a long sigh. Frank somehow knew it was pathetic to start off with that, but he couldn't help himself. He felt too desperate to form a quality sentence.

It felt like forever until Gerard spoke again. “I'm not mad. I think I’m not even hurt. Just... disappointed.” That hurt Frank's head, his heart too somehow, but he couldn't tell since his heart had been hurting vigorously for hours now.

“Oh,” Frank said, the sorrow dripping of his voice and making Gerard's body visibly tense, even in the pitch black of their room. Frank was still by the door, even though he had closed it and was now leaning against it.

“I don't know, Frank. You said you'd never do that.”

“Consciously, I wouldn't. You know that.” Frank said. He decided to fuck his pride now, because that was the only thing holding him back from sobbing and pleading Gerard to take him back. “I- I don't know. I don't know why. I don't know how. I'm just... I hate myself. Believe me, I hate myself. Heck, you should hate me too, I wouldn't blame you. But I'm so fucking selfish that I don't want you to. And I would take it all back if I could. I used to tell you I don't regret anything in my life. Now I do. I will always regret this. I know I will and it-”

“Do you love me, Frank?” Gerard cut him off. Now, that crushed Frank's insides, pulled him by his veins and made his heart sting. Because he knew Gerard wasn't just asking because he wanted to hear the words, like he used to. Now he was asking because he genuinely doubted Frank's feelings for him.

“More than anything in the world,” Frank genuinely said.

“Then don't do it again,” Gerard said, and then broke into sobs. They were loud and it felt like the whole room was shaking from the sorrow they held, witnessing how a totally blunt and impulsive physical action could cause such excruciating emotional pain. Frank didn't know what to do, if it was okay for him to do anything. He fucked his hesitation off too and ran over to the bed, a few tears falling from his eyes as well because he hated seeing Gerard cry. If he hated anything in the world, it was when Gerard was breaking in front of him and nothing Frank could do would be enough to make it okay. Especially if it was all Frank's fault in the first place.

He pulled Gerard into his arms and let him sob on his shoulder. He hoped his guilt would transition onto Gerard in the form of comfort, so they could heal each other simultaneously. Oh, if life was that simple.

“I'm so sorry, so, so sorry,” Frank whispered in his ear, the pit of his stomach filling with guilt and hate even more. He hated himself. He was a monster.

“Frank,” Gerard panted quietly after the sobs stopped. Frank looked at him, just a shadow where the pale face and its black frame should've been.

“Yes?”

“Don't do it again.”

“I will never do it again. I swear. I promise. I'm so sorry, I don't-” Now Frank was the one who was crying, he couldn't stop it, it just felt so heavy on his chest he had to let it out somehow. And he certainly wasn't considering kicking things now. Gerard held him as he was crying, breathing into his hair and trailing his fingers over his back. Frank knew he didn't deserve it, but he was being held by the only person whose arms could soothe him in a situation like this. He couldn't help but to feel eternally thankful for it. “I'm going to make it up for you. I swear. I bought you cigarettes. If that means anything. I mean, that is if you don't want to kick me out and if you do that's totally fine I-”

Gerard shut him up by kissing him softly. It felt like heaven, the ashes from his lungs seeming to vaporize as soon as Gerard's lips slid softly against his, telling him it was fine now. Frank leaped his arms around Gerard's neck tightly when he pulled away, just breathing in and out while he was staring into his eyes and touching Gerard's nose with his and squashing their foreheads together. He let another tear or two fall out, simply because he was so thankful Gerard forgave him. “I'm not kicking you out, but I'll take the cigarettes. They better be Lights, though. If they're not, I take back what I said and you're flying out of the window.”

Frank chuckled lightly and closed his eyes, letting the momentary joy wash over him just like Gerard's soft breath over his lips for as long as it could, his brain clicking in place and settling this moment and this feeling inside his memory, hoping that, stored there, it might've lasted forever.

And it did.

Notes

Long time no see, friends. This is what happens when I'm bored and uninspired and boredom prevails. Who needs sleep anyways?

'Til next time,

- Milo