Married In My Mind

An uncomfortable silence followed the band back into the green room. It was normal for us to be quiet right after a show. Performing live could be very draining, especially when we hadn’t done it a while. The silence hanging over the room seemed to have very little to do with the performance. It was less of a silence and more of an elephant in the room. A frank-shaped elephant hugging an empty guitar case in silence on the couch. He glanced down at the case with a blank look on his face.
My thoughts were going a mile a minute. I felt myself deflate as the adrenaline of performing wore off. With the post-show exhaustion starting to kick in all I could think about was 5 minutes to myself for a quiet, reviving cigarette. My ears were ringing. My clothes were completely soaked with sweat which had me shivering in the cool of the green room. I peeled off the black button-down I’d been wearing and traded it out for a t-shirt and sweatshirt I’d stashed in my bag.I turned my gaze to Mikey, shooting him a desperate, ‘help me’ look. He jerked his head in Frank’s direction as he slid on his coat. Bob and Ray had already pulled on their coats and were headed for the door. Mikey turned and followed closely behind them, mumbling something about going to meet the fans. The sound of the door opening and then closing behind them was incredibly loud in the silence of the room. Suddenly we were alone.
I took a deep breath and turned back towards Frank, crossing the room and dropping onto the couch across from him. He continued to stare down at his guitar case blankly. Echos of the voices of show staff echoed in the hallway outside, gently drifting under the door and into the room.
“Frank?” I prompted softly.
He leaned back against the couch, shoving his hand in the pocket of his sweatshirt and pulling out his pack of smokes. He placed a cigarette between his lips and left it hanging there, unlit, while he carefully moved the guitar case to the couch-cushion beside him.
He pulled a lighter out, and lit the end of his cigarette, inhaling deeply as the flames burned their way up the paper. I knew I was staring but Frank made smoking cigarettes look good in a way that somebody probably should’ve figured out how to bottle and sell.
“That sound tech might have something to say if he found you smoking in here.” I commented.
Frank snorted, choking on the drag of smoke he was inhaling. A wide smile spread across his lips as he finally looked up at me. The emotions in his face were the complete opposite of everything I was feeling. He looked calm and sure of himself.
“Did you see the way that tech looked at me?” he asked, smiling fondly.
“He was fucking terrified of you.” I agreed, offering a small smile.
“He could’ve beaten me up if he wanted to, easily...” he sighed, glancing down at his cigarette for a moment before stretching out his arm and flicking ash on the floor. He looked back up at me, expression vacant, eyes fixed.
I had no fucking clue what he was thinking. Bert had obviously said something to Frank before the show. It sounded like they’d made an agreement of some kind. And Frank had said I belonged to him, that he needed something from me... I had so many questions I was too overwhelmed to know where to start.
“I don’t hate you.” Frank said softly, puffing on his cigarette again, “I’m sorry I said that. I shouldn’t say shit like that to you.”
“It’s fine, I-” I faltered, mouth working quicker than my brain, “Bert has a way of getting to people.”
“Yeah,” Frank agreed morosely, ashing on the floor again, “He’s certainly gotten to you, alright.”
“Frank, I didn’t fuck him. I swear.” I said. It came out sounding more defensive than I wanted it to.
“I know you didn’t.” he replied calmly. “He told me before the show.”
“He told you? Then why-”
“I don’t want to talk about Bert.” he interrupted firmly, lifting himself off the couch. He dropped the cigarette to the cement floor and crushed it under his scuffed sneaker. I felt myself tense up as he made a motion towards me.
I closed my eyes, as he moved closure. I felt the couch cushions beside me dip as Frank sat down beside me. I opened my eyes as he was resting his head on my shoulder. Our arms brushed as he shifted his weight towards me. I felt my heartbeat quicken as he let out a long, slow exhale. I held completely still, heart pounding, not wanting to wreck the moment by pushing things along faster than we were ready for them.
I stared straight ahead at the empty couch across from us. Frank’s guitar case still rested against the cushions. A thin haze of smoke drifted in the air around the couch.
“I’m sad about my guitar.” Frank sighed.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Yeah.” He repeated. “I wasn’t done loving that one yet.”
“Why did you smash it then?” I asked rhetorically.
“Heat of the moment, I guess?” he said.
“We’ll get you a new one.” I promised.
“Do you have any idea how much custom work I had done on that one?” he scoffed, “And the place I got the work done closed down. It’ll never be the same.”
“Well… we’ll just have to get you a better one, then.” I amended.
I felt his hand lay gently on my arm. I glanced down at his tattooed fingers, snaking around my sleeve and squeezing gently. I shifted my weight, leaning into him ever so slightly.
“Frank?” I asked softly.
“Gerard?” he echoed.
I glanced over at the top of his head. His hair was still damp with sweat, making it stick up in clumps in ways it didn’t normally.
All the unsaid things between us collected in my chest. First and foremost, I wanted to kiss him. It had been so long since we’d kissed. It took everything out of me not to just grab him and kiss him on the ugly couch until my lips hurt.
His face tilted up towards mine. He blinked up at me with vacant eyes. The dark circles looked so much darker and menacing from close up.
“Can we go back to your place after this?” I asked. I wasn’t sure where I found the bravery as I slid my hand over the hand he still had wrapped around my arm.
“What makes you think I’m going home with you tonight?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, I just thought…” I trailed off, swallowing hard and sitting up straighter. I felt a blush creep up on my cheeks.
“I’m taking you on a date first...” he said, shifting himself away from me so that he could speak to me face to face. Having his full attention with nowhere to hide made me nervous.
“Um, what?” I asked.
“I’m not going home with you until we go on a real date. Just you and me. Complete with hand holding and all the other corny shit you like.” he explained.
“Like... right now?” I breathed.
“While I appreciate your enthusiasm,” he grinned, “Brian’s making us go to that stupid fucking party your boyfriend is throwing.”
“So? We’ll stay long enough to say hello to everyone and go out after.” I said, ignoring the ‘boyfriend’ comment.
“Not tonight, Gee.” he sighed, reaching out gently squeezing my arm. “But soon. I promise.”
“We’ve spent the night together plenty of times together without doing anything.” I tried.
“Real date first. That’s final.” Frank countered.
I bit my lip in thought and tried to think of some other convincing argument to get him to spend the night with me.
“The party could be our first date?” I suggested.
“I am not spending our first date anywhere near Bert McCracken!” He scoffed, letting go of my arm and running a hand through his hair, “Fuck that.”
“Alright, well where are you gonna take me then?” I asked.
“I’m not telling you!” He said, “It’s a surprise…”
“If it’s a surprise how will I know what to wear?”
“I don’t actually want it to be a surprise… cause that makes it sound like it’s going to be more exciting than it is and I don’t wanna disappoint you on our first date.” he mused. “Disappointing you is definitely something I’m saving for our fifth or sixth date… then hopefully I’ll have had the chance to show you that I’m worth your trouble, in spite of how bad I am at showing up to anything on time… Or taking romantic queues… Or actually ever making decisions about what I want to order at a restaurant… Or-”
“You’ve put a lot of thought into this.” I commented.
“Well yeah,” He said, voice rising in pitch, “I mean it’s… you. You’re not just anyone. You’re… you.”
“I’m… me?” I asked slowly, “What the fuck does that even mean?”
“Well you’re Gerard... but you’re also Gerard Way.” He explained.
“I’m not following.” I said, shaking my head.
“I just don’t want to fuck things up with you...” he said softly, “Ever again.”
And suddenly it felt too serious. This wasn’t the place or time to be having such a conversation, not that there had been or would ever be a better time and place to discuss the feelings we weren’t legally supposed to entertain.
“...This could be our first date?” I said with a grin, trying to break the tension between us.
“This?” He asked, furrowing his brow.
“Yeah. This moment. It’s kind of like a date? We’re alone, aren’t we?” I offered.
“Sort of.” He nodded. “But you know someone’s gonna come through that door any minute and ruin it...”
As if the universe had some reason it wanted to get back at Frank, it was at that moment the door opened with a loud squeak. I quickly pulled my arm away and Frank scooted over a little so we weren’t sitting so close.
“Gerard? Frank?” Ray’s apprehensive voice asked.
Frank and I exchanged a look of ‘oh-it’s-just-Ray’ relief.
“Yeah?” I said, turning my gaze toward the door.
“Hope I’m not interrupting anything…” Ray called out apprehensively.
“We were just fucking actually.” Frank offered sarcastically, “Can’t you tell?”
“Oh well… They sent me to get you guys…” Ray said, keeping his eyes on the floor like he wasn’t sure if Frank was joking or not, “Most of the equipment is all packed up so we can leave for the party now.”
There was a myriad of sexually-explicit, sarcastic comments spilling from Frank’s mouth as he shrugged into his coat and followed Ray to his car, carrying his empty guitar case under his arm. Bob and Mikey had taken Bob’s car, which left Frank and I with Ray. I felt sorry for Ray. Frank was totally and completely subjecting Ray to his bad mood and Ray had done nothing to deserve it. It still nice to see Frank the way I remembered him: enjoying nothing more than making innocent people uncomfortable.
Frank and I climbed into the back seat and sat side-by-side. We were just barely touching and yet somehow it was enough to make me incredibly nervous.
“No messing around in my car.” Ray whined as he started the car.
“We won’t get anything on your seats, I promise.” Frank teased.
My breath caught in my throat. Whatever Ray spat back at Frank was lost on me. It was too weird, too much, too quick. They were being too casual about Frank and I being together.
Frank and Ray started up a conversation about boring, technical guitar stuff after that and the joke about Frank and I in the back seat was forgotten by both of them. I couldn’t stop thinking about it though. I wanted to be alone with Frank. True, I wanted to mess up some back seats, but it had also just been so long since we were alone together. I had no interest in going to a party at all, not when the only person I wanted to go home with wouldn’t be going home with me until I went on some bullshit ‘real date’ with them.
I stared out the window, watching the cars fly past as Ray pulled the car off the expressway. I was silently cataloging places that might be open late. There had to be somewhere I could take Frank after the party. There were arcades and bars all over Jersey but none of them seemed right. It was too cold to go for a walk on the waterfront and make out on the beach. Frank would tease me endlessly for picking something so cheesy anyways. Frank tangled our fingers together, stroking gentle stripes onto the back of my hand as if he could tell what I was thinking.
“You okay?” He whispered against my ear when Ray was in the middle of trying to describe the custom pedal-board of some band he’d seen recently.
I nodded silently, keeping my eyes on the cars and houses and buildings drifting past.
“You sure?” He pressed, squeezing my hand gently.
“Yeah.” I said softly, “I’m sure.”
He leaned against me and ghosted his lips over my cheek. I bit my lip and squeezed his hand gently.
Ray had stopped talking and turned on the radio. I was really only half-aware of the transition as Frank buried his face in the crook of my neck and sighed against my skin. His warm breath was total and complete torture. He had to know how evil it was for him to get all close to me in the dark back seat of Ray’s car where I couldn’t even do anything about it.
I was about to push him off or yell at him or something when I noticed the car had stopped altogether.
“We’re here.” Ray said, unbuckling his belt and sliding out of the front seat. He stretched out and closed the door behind him, heading towards the bar without waiting up for us. I assumed it was an effort to give us a moment alone, bless his heart.
Frank lifted his head up but made no motion to get out of the car. Instead, he wrapped his arms around me, and pressed a kiss into my hair. I was still damp with sweat and there was no way I smelled good, but even so it wasn’t like I wanted him to stop.
“I don’t want to go inside…” Frank grumbled.
“We don’t have to.” I said softly, leaning into him. “We could still ditch.”
“Your boyfriend orchestrated this whole thing, couldn’t you have stopped him or something?” he asked.
“I didn’t know about it,” I argued, pulling away, “and besides he’s not my-”
“I know.” Frank interrupted, gliding his fingertips down the side of my face, “I know.”
“This is probably going to be better than going to dinner with the label reps or something…” I offered, leaning into his touch, “They all know about my writing. And they’d just get drunk and ask us about it.”
“No offense but… How is that worse than going to a party full of people who know about it?” Frank asked. His pretty features contorted into amused skepticism in the dim of the parking lot.
“I’d rather deal with the looks than explain that I don’t have a public humiliation fetish to a bunch of sweaty dudes in suits.”
“But you practically do have a public humiliation fetish…” he countered.
“No I don’t!” I squeaked, “...How would you know anyways?”
“Seriously?” He laughed, it was all breathy and low, “I know all about what you like, Gerard.”
I think he had meant for it to be a joke, but it came out sounding like something between a threat and a promise. Whatever the intended meaning, I had no rebuttal prepared. The tension we’d been pretending to ignore flooded the back seat of the car, seizing the breath in my lungs.
Frank leaned forward slowly until our faces were inches apart. His familiar warm breath flooded my senses, making me feel incredibly dizzy. I was so sure he was going to kiss me. I could practically taste him.
Of course, it was just my luck that he pulled away, brandishing a satisfied smirk.
“It’s not fair.” I whispered, feeling myself blush.
“What’s not fair?” he asked softly.
“You already know what I want.” I said, so quietly I wasn’t even sure if he could hear me, “And I know you said you had to think about it or whatever but I don’t know what you want... And I hate not knowing what you want from me.”
“I just want you?” he offered casually, “As for the rest… you’ll just have to figure it out. Fiction’s not really my thing.”
I wanted to punch him for saying it, but it was hard to punch him when he was closing the space between us again and pulling my face towards his. I framed his face with my palms and kissed him with a little more force than I’d intended to. He made a shocked noise in the back of his throat, but didn’t seem to have any problem with it, if the way he tangled his fingers in my hair and shoved his tongue in my mouth was any indication.
There was a great deal of fumbling as I ungracefully climbed into his lap in the cramped back seat. After practically kneeing him in the crotch I was safe in the familiarity of his arms and kissing him him hungrily. He slid his hands up the back of my shirt to drag his nails down the skin of my back and gasped into my mouth when I rocked my hips against his.
“I promised Ray we wouldn’t get anything on his seats.” he breathed against my neck, trailing kisses all over my skin. His hands stopped roaming under my shirt and came to rest on my hips. I could feel him relaxing underneath me.
“But Frank I need you.” I begged softly, trying not to let the desperation come through in my voice.
“It would be awful rude for us to skip the party they’re throwing you just to mess up Ray’s nice leather seats, don’t ya think?” He asked, pecking my cheek, gently, “Then everyone would hate us.”
“But-” I protested weakly as he tried to slide out from underneath me. “But then why-”
Frank pulled the door open, letting cold air flood the car. I shivered as the heat escaped. I glanced out at the parking lot through the foggy windows, blushing as I realized how quickly Ray would jump to conclusions if he saw the foggy windows. Frank wiggled the rest of the way out from under me and crawled out of the car.
“Come on.” He said, reaching out his hand. I took it reluctantly and let him pull me out of the car.
As soon as I’d closed the door behind me he pushed me up against the car and crushed our lips together. I felt a small amount of panic kissing him so out in the open, but it was hard to give a fuck when we were pressed so closely together.
“Sorry.” He panted, wrapping his arms around my neck, “I’m just not sure when I’ll get the chance to do that again.”
“You could do whatever you want with me after the party if you’d just fucking come home with me.” I pouted, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him closer.
“No can do.” He whispered.
“Then stop torturing me like this.” I demanded, trying to pull away.
“Shut up. You love it.” he whispered against my ear, clinging onto me. Our lips met in a passionate kiss. He sunk his teeth into my lower lip and pulled back gently, causing just the right amount of pain. The rest of my body had no problem getting with the program.
“I hate you.” I mumbled against his lips as I relaxed against the car.
“No you don’t.” He teased, pressing another kiss to my lips.
“Frannnnnk.” I groaned.
“What?” he asked, smirking at me.
“I’m… fucking…” I trailed off.
“Fucking what?” He asked, pulling away from me and spinning in the direction of the bar.
“I have a fucking boner.” I winced, “I can’t go in there like this.”
“Just think unsexy thoughts.” He waved over his shoulder as he started walking away.
I wanted to kill him and bring him back to life so I could kill him again.
“Like what?” I called out, trying not to stare at his ass as he walked away.
“Sweaty men in business suits asking about your public humiliation fetish!” He practically yelled across the parking lot.
I glanced around to make sure no one had heard him. I swore I heard the little shit laughing as he opened the door and waltzed into the bar. I took another quick glance around the parking lot before adjusting the front of my pants and wandering into the bar myself.

I didn’t know what I had been expecting. It was disorientingly warm and loud and crowded inside the place. By the time I got inside Frank had already located the rest of our band and was weaseling his way into some conversation Ray and Mikey were having with some sweaty guy in a suit.
I glanced around the room looking for any familiar faces. Not finding any, I looked back at where Frank was standing. He waggled his eyebrows at me from across the room as someone handed him a drink. He hadn’t bothered to smooth out his hair and it was still sticking up where I’d laced my fingers through it.
I was about to flip him off when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“Hey beautiful.” Bert singsonged as I turned to look at him. “What took you so long?”
“Oh, you know. Traffic.” I shrugged.
“You’re a bad liar.” he grinned, “But that’s okay cause so am I… Glad you’re here.”
Bert handed me a cup of seltzer water and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, steering me in the direction of some people I ‘just had to meet.’
The evening dragged along the way it usually did when I was out with Bert. There were a few hiccups when people came up to us asking for drugs. Most of the time Bert pretended he didn’t know what they were talking about, but there were a few times where he pulled the person aside. I usually tried to look the other way for the sake of plausible deniability.
At some point, Brian came by to introduce us to the sweaty label reps in suits. I shook their hands and had short, forced conversations with them until they disappeared.
I looked around for Frank or Mikey or Ray but couldn’t seem to find them anywhere. I’d seen Bob once on his way to the bathroom, but that was it. I tuned out of the conversation Bert was having with some guy he’d met on Warped tour the previous summer to look around the room again. When I didn’t see them anywhere I checked my phone. No messages. No missed calls.
“Um, Gee?” Bert said.
When I looked up at him the guy was gone and Bert was wearing a terrifyingly sweet smile.
“Yeah?” I asked, sliding my phone back into my pocket.
“So uh… I think Frankie might… be mad at me.” Bert said, biting his lip.
“He’s always mad at you.” I shrugged.
“No.” Bert said, shaking his head, “No, this is different.”
“What did you do?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.
“It’s not something I did. More like, something we did.” Bert frowned.
“Bert, what the fuck are you talking about?” I pressed, feeling my blood run cold.
“Well…” Bert sighed, “It’s just… it’s…”
“Bert.” I snapped.
“Here.” Bert said, handing me his phone. The phone was open to a photo of Bert and I together. He was kissing my cheek in the picture as I smiled gleefully at the camera. I remembered the night it was taken several weeks ago. The caption under the photo had a headline about our suspected relationship following a kiss we’d shared on stage earlier in the evening. The subheadline mentioned reports of us seen out around the city together, always in close proximity, always smiling.
“Guess we made headlines?” He laughed, but there was no humor in his voice.
“Fuck.” I whispered, handing the phone back to him.
“This isn’t actually a bad thing.” Bert pointed out. “Frankie won’t see it that way… but let’s be honest here, if everyone thinks we’re together it means they’ll lay off of you two.”
“Fuck.” I repeated. “He’s going to be so mad when he sees this...”
“He probably hasn’t seen it yet.” Bert shrugged.
“I don’t know... but I have to find him.” I said.
“I’ll keep an eye out for him.” Bert nodded, “I’ll call you if I find him.”
I started to make a round through the room, passing fake smiles whenever I made eye contact with people Bert had introduced me to. I took pride in being able to always find Frank in crowd. I thought it was because he was always the prettiest person in the room. Bert had suggested that it had more to do with how much I loved him, that I could find him anywhere because I was always looking for him in one way or another. Whatever the reason, Frank didn’t seem to be anywhere I looked. I even walked through the bar, keeping my eyes away from the bottles of alcohol as I passed through.
My heart started to race as I wondered if he’d seen the article and decided to take off without me. He’d said we weren’t going home together after all.
My phone started buzzing in my pocket. I pulled it out and answered it the second I saw Bert’s name on the screen.
“Did you find him?” I asked, bring the phone to my ear.
“Sure did.” Bert sighed. “Come out around back. Maybe bring a glass of water and… some napkins or something?”
“Is he okay?” I asked, trying to swallow the worry in my voice.
“I think so… just had a little too much fun it seems like.” Bert offered.
I hung up without saying anything else.

I carried a cup of water and some napkins out to the back door, sneaking through a door with an ‘employees only’ sign. There was a small dark alley behind the venue. Bert’s white suit jacket stood out in the dim. He turned when he heard the door squeak shut, shooting me a worried frown as we made eye contact. He stepped to the side, revealing the scene in front of him.
Frank was perched on the bottom of a staircase with his head between his legs. Ray sat by Frank’s side with a hand clasped on his shoulder, staring down at him with sad, sympathetic eyes. Bob and Mikey sat on his other side, puffing their cigarettes as they stared at me with genuine curiosity.
“What happened?” I asked, handing Ray the glass of water.
He nudged Frank and held the cup in front of his face. Frank tried to push it away but Ray moved it away before Frank could spill it.
“Those fuckin weirdos from the label had us all doing shots with them.” Bob said, “And Frank’s a lightweight, as you know.”
“He also found out about that article about you and Bert.” Ray added.
“I don’t give a shit about that.” Frank slurred, not even bothering to look up.
“That’s not what he was saying 5 minutes ago.” Bob laughed, flicking the ash off his cigarette.
“I’ll kill you.” Frank threatened weakly.
Bob smirked and took another puff of his cigarette.
We were all quiet for a moment, eyes darting between each other and Frank’s heavily breathing, crumpled form.
“Frank…” I said softly, “About the thing with Bert-”
“I said I don’t give a shit about it, okay?” He interrupted coldly, his voice was rough like he’d been puking.
I bit my lip and stared down at him.
“...Oh god, guys, I think I’m gonna puke again.” Frank groaned.
Bert took a few steps back before Frank even started gagging. Ray held Frank’s bangs back as Frank doubled over, nearly falling over into the mess. When Frank was done dry-heaving I handed him a napkin. He accepted it wordlessly, still refusing to look up at me.
“I lost track of you guys for like, two hours at the most.” I said, dropping onto the stair beside Frank, “What the fuck did you all even drink?”
“I think it was tequila?” Mikey chimed in. “Freaky business dudes love tequila.”
“And how would you know what freaky business dudes love?” Bob laughed.
“I think the problem here,” Ray said, changing the subject, “Is that I passed all of my shots to Frank since I have to drive later. So to my knowledge he took twice as many as everyone else.”
“Oh shit,” Bob said, “I passed him all of mine too.”
“So Frank basically took everyone’s shots… except for Mikey’s?” Bert asked. “Why didn’t you guys pass any to Mikey?”
“Can we please stop talking about alcohol?” Frank moaned. “It’s making me nauseous.”
“We should get him home.” Ray said, “He needs to sleep this off if he’s gonna play again tomorrow.”
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here.” Frank muttered, glaring at Ray before leaning over and dry-heaving again.

That was how I ended up in the back of Ray’s car with Frank as he challenged his earlier promise of not messing up Ray’s back seat every couple of seconds. Frank leaned his head out the window until the car pulled onto the expressway. When the whipping, icy wind got to be too much, he rested his head in my lap and closed his eyes. I tried to reach over and roll up the window without moving him too much. Once I got the window up I stroked his hair soothingly and tried to ignore how much he smelled like a mop bucket full of whiskey.
Ray and I didn’t strike up a conversation about boring technical stuff. We didn’t talk at all. He had put something heavy-metal-influenced and guitar-heavy on the stereo and drove in silence.
Ray stopped the car a few times along the way when we thought Frank might throw up again. Eventually we got to Frank’s apartment without messing up Ray’s nice leather interior.
All of Frank’s previously claims that we wouldn’t be going home together were lost as I practically carried Frank up the stairs. Ray followed behind us with Frank’s empty guitar case. There was a moment of panic where Frank deliriously thought he lost his keys but eventually we got inside.
“M gonna throw up.” Frank announced as I helped him down the hallway. I’d forgotten all about the paint fight he’d had with jamia, and wasn’t expecting to see the violent shade of red they’d used to paint the bathroom splashed across the floor. I didn’t have much time to look at it as I shoved Frank in the direction of the bathroom. He made it to the toilet with half a second to spare. I perched on the edge of the bathtub in the tiny room and stroked gentle circles on his back.
“Oh my god!” Ray called from the other room.
“What?” Frank choked out in between dry heaves.
“The paint! Frank, it’s amazing!” Ray said.
“Amazingly good waste of a deposit.” Frank laughed.
Ray appeared in the doorway with a glass of water in his hand, pills in the other. Frank slid away from the toilet after ungracefully reaching out to flush it. He rested against the wall and looked up at us, breathing unevenly.
“I’m literally…” He drawled, “The worst boyfriend in the history of boyfriends.”
“That’s not true.” Ray argued, passing Frank the glass of water and the pills, “You care. That’s more than a lot of boyfriends can say.”
Just like before, it came as a shock to me that they could talk about Frank and I so casually.
“But I’m so drunk…” Frank slurred hoarsely, “And Gerard is just trying to stay clean. And I’m such an... asshole. God, I’m such a fucking asshole.”
“It’s my fault too.” Ray said, “I shouldn’t have passed you all those shots.”
“I shouldn’t have taken them.” Frank groaned, staring down at the pills in his hand.
“I’m the fuck-up, here.” I said, “I’m the one with the drinking problem. You guys shouldn’t have to always edit your behavior on my behalf.”
“But I want to.” Frank said, “And I should… because I love you.”
I’m pretty sure I heard Ray make an audible ‘awww’ sound, but it was lost on me as I made eye contact with Frank. I mouthed an ‘I love you too’, feeling my heart flutter.
“Anyways, guys, I should probably get going.” Ray said. “Gerard, you’ll take care of Frank, right?”
I turned to look at him and nodded.
“Frank’s case is in the kitchen. I’ll call you guys in the morning.” Ray nodded before turning on his heels and heading for the door. Frank stared at each other in silence until we heard the door closing behind Ray.
As soon as we were alone I sunk to the floor beside Frank.
“Do you need anything?” I asked.
He shook his head and lowered himself onto the floor, nearly spilling his glass of water. His shirt rode up in the process, revealing the tattoos on his hips. I wanted to reach out and run my fingers over them but resorted to staring.
“It should’ve been us.” Frank said hoarsely.
It took me a moment to grasp what he was talking about. So much had happened in one evening, it felt like I had been out for days.
“The article, you mean?” I asked.
“No.” Frank laughed, throwing his arm over his face. “I don’t give a shit about internet gossip.”
“Then what do you mean?” I pressed, running my fingers through his hair.
“On stage. It should’ve been us.” He said hoarsely, sliding his arm away and looking up at me. His pretty eyes were red and glassy.
“Not sure if you remember but we were on stage together for about an hour and a half earlier.” I chuckled.
“That’s not what I meant, fuck you.” He said, fighting a smile.
I grinned down at him and slid his sweaty bangs out of his face.
“Gerard I’m the worst fucking boyfriend.” He repeated. “The worst.”
“I thought you said we transcended the boyfriend shit?” I argued, not sure why I was bothering to argue with someone who’d consumed as much alcohol as Frank had.
“We do.” he agreed, “But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m still the worst boyfriend you’ve never had.”
Frank closed his eyes and rubbed his face against the floor. It didn’t look particularly comfortable but even so he seemed like he was ready to fall asleep. I slid onto the floor beside him and wrapped an arm around his waist. The cold tiles weren’t the most comfortable place to take a nap but it had been so long since I’d laid down that it felt nice somehow.
“Fuck, you weren’t supposed to come home with me.” Frank mumbled drowsily.
“I’m not leaving you like this.” I said.
“Okay.” he sighed, nuzzling closer to me. “Thanks.”
I thought over what Frank could’ve been talking about. If he wasn’t upset about the article, I wasn’t sure what he was upset out about.
Then it hit me. The guitar smashing, repeatedly calling Bert my boyfriend… Frank was mad that I’d kissed Bert on stage, in front of everyone, in front of the cameras.
“It should’ve been us.” he repeated softly, driving the point home.
"It should've been us." I agreed, hugging him close.

Notes

this update is really bad. like, so bad. but i'm the captain of this motherfucking ship and i'm gonna go down with it.

posting in kind of a rush, so i'm sure there's errors. like, missing line breaks when we need line breaks, weird dyslexia-induced word choices, etc. whatever. you love me anyways.
-m