He's Not Dead He Only Looks That Way

Frank is happy to sleep in the following morning. Despite this, he still finds the time to wake up early for the sole purpose of saying goodbye to Gerard, who leaves Frank with a kiss on the cheek and pat on the thigh. Frank immediately falls back asleep upon his boyfriend’s departure, and he stays unconscious until around noon. When he wakes up, he makes himself some lunch, his stomach a tad uneasy. He can’t even begin to think about what would happen if Derek realized their scheme. It would end in tears and blood. Mostly blood. He watches a film to take his mind off of it, sneaking a cigarette from one of Gerard’s jacket pockets. He sits in bed, twirling the cigarette between his fingers, looking at it more than he actually smokes it. He spends most of his afternoon moping around, looking lost with Gerard not at his side. He ends up waiting for him by the door like a dog awaiting the arrival of its owner, except he tries to play it off like that wasn’t his intention. Gerard gets home, greeting, “Hey, Ferris Bueller.” “I don’t get it,” Frank complains, curled up in a blanket. Gerard kicks off his shoes, sliding underneath the covers with Frank. “Wentz and Mikey will be over soon.” “Are we going to go over the game plan?” Frank asks. “Yeah. Mikey’s still sort of nervous.” Frank decides to omit the fact that he’s been having second thoughts himself, responding, “Everything will go fine.” That’s what he hopes. Mikey and Pete do make it over, leaving it to Frank to explain everything. Mikey ends up asking to step down, explaining, “I really feel like he won’t drink in front of me.” “That’s fine,” Frank replies. “Just hang out. Have fun.” “Wait a minute, so I have to be with the idiot alone now?” Pete asks. “Probably,” Gerard answers honestly. Pete groans, assuring, “I’ll do it, but I’m not happy about it.” “What’s the worst that could happen?” Frank reasons. “He likes you.” “Yeah, exactly!” Pete retorts. “Do you know what he does to people he likes?” “I have an idea,” Mikey cuts in. Pete nods vigorously, warning, “If that asshole gives me a wedgie, I’m going to deck him on the spot.” “No, Pete! You can’t start a fight with him,” Frank insists. “Just fake nice, you can do it.” Pete rolls his eyes, nonetheless agreeing, “Yeah, fine. Okay.” Gerard turns to Frank, telling, “We best go upstairs when the party starts. Wouldn’t want to run into Derek or anyone else, for that matter.” Gerard was right in taking that precaution; almost all of the boys’ enemies turn up within hours, and for one sole reason, that motivator being drugs. Pete gets right to work on getting Derek drunk, fixing him a few drinks consecutively. Bending over to pull a beer from the bottom shelf of the Ways’ fridge, Pete suddenly finds his boxer briefs halfway up his back. He knows right away that Derek’s responsible, yet he lets out an involuntary squeal as he squirms free, forcing a chuckle. He hands Derek another beer, figuring that he’ll have to get him good and drunk to make the fucking loser bearable. That’s exactly what Pete does. After two beers he’s tipsy, three more and he’s drunk, and three still and he’s absolutely shit faced. Pete ends up waiting for him to pass out, then swinging the larger boy over his shoulders. Struggling down the steps to Gerard’s room, he assures surrounding partygoers, “I’m gonna find this guy a place to crash.” Once he’s there, he drops Derek off in the bed, getting to work on tearing off his shoes, tossing them randomly across the room, followed by his shirt. Pete tugs his jeans off, leaving them balled up on the floor. For an even more lasting impression, he ruffles Derek’s hair to really push the idea that he had sex. Gerard pushes into the room, followed by Frank. Pete leaves, and Gerard thanks him quietly, patting his shoulder as he goes. Gerard quickly disrobes, Frank watching with mild interest. His jaw tightens as Gerard climbs into the same bed as Derek, naked spare his boxers. Gerard can’t help but notice, and he remarks, “You know, this was your idea.” “I know, I know,” Frank mutters. “Just… don’t get too handsy, okay? A-and don’t let him snuggle with you in his sleep. Also, you shouldn’t-” “Frank,” Gerard interrupts. “I got it, don’t worry. You head on out, I can take things from here.” “O-okay,” Frank stammers, exiting. He goes back upstairs to hang out with Pete, who assures him that Gerard knows exactly what he’s doing down there. Gerard lay in bed, gazing over at Derek with boredom. He’s supposed to wait for this rock to wake up? This’ll take ages. He settles in, thinking about nothing at all and struggling to stay alert. Remembering that they hadn’t taken any photos, Pete and Frank return to Gerard’s room, opening the door quietly. “Hey,” Gerard greets softly. Frank waves, and takes out his phone, prompting Gerard to pretend he’s asleep. “Just look like you’re sleeping, alright?” “Wait a minute,” Gerard cuts in. “If this is supposed to make him think he slept with me, why would anyone have pictures of it? Besides me, I mean.” “Good point,” Frank mumbles, handing Gerard his phone. Gerard takes a total of thirteen pictures, all of which he sends to himself as backups. He returns the phone to Frank, just in time for Derek to shuffle in his sleep. Frank and Pete run off, leaving Gerard there. Gerard never actually thought about what he’d say or do when Derek actually woke up. Turning on his side and facing the larger boy, he gazes at him with drooped eyes, mocking to be as tired as Derek. Derek blinks himself awake, and rolling over, comes face to face with Gerard. “The fuck?” “Don’t you remember?” Gerard asks. He pouts, running a hand up and down Derek’s arm. “What…” Derek whines. He looks down, and seems to become very aware of the fact that both he and Gerard are nearly naked. He falls out of bed, scrambling to cover himself. He snatches a blanket from Gerard’s mattress, wrapping it around his waist and standing. “Stay the fuck away from me.” “You were the one who brought me in here,” Gerard ad libs. In a panic, Derek runs a hand through his hair. He stumbles through the room hotly, collecting his clothes and putting them on. “You… you don’t tell anyone about this, alright? I’ll beat your little ass.” “Au contraire,” Gerard replies. Leaning back in bed, he lights a cigarette and begins smoking. He elaborates, “You’re going to stop treating Frank and I like shit, and your friends are going to knock it off too, or I’m going to spread this little secret of ours.” Derek turns white as a sheet, stammering, “W-well I’ll tell Frank. Your little bottom wouldn’t want to know you slept with another guy.” “Actually, we’re in an open ended relationship,” Gerard lies. “Basically, we’re fuck buddies.” “Shit. Just… gimme a week, alright? Your guys’ names will be cleared in a week.” “Too long.” “Three days, max. Things might be rocky Monday or Tuesday, but it’ll be good by Wednesday, I swear.” “Done deal, Derek,” Gerard agrees. Derek heads for the door, and Gerard calls, “Don’t let this go on past Wednesday!”

Notes

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