3/13

I groaned as I opened my eyes, then shut them again, against the light that filled the room. I had a massive headache. I rubbed my eyes, and started to open them again, slowly, so as not to be blinded. I blinked a few times, clearing away the blurriness, and focused my sight onto the alarm clock on my nightstand. 11:24. I lifted my head, my face sticking slightly to the pillow. I must’ve drooled during the night. Gross. I pushed myself up, and turned around so I was sitting. Slumped over, I dragged a hand across my face, trying to wake up. I needed some coffee. I made my way across the bed—why was I naked?—and was about to place my foot on the ground when I noticed a body on the floor, right beside the bed.

“What the…hell?” I breathed as my sluggish brain tried to make sense of things. I looked at the face-down body, slumbering away (thankfully not dead), as naked as me, covered only slightly by some sheets. I recognized one of the tattoos that decorated the skin, a scorpion adorning the neck. Frank. Right. I shut my eyes as I remembered. We’d fucked. I sighed as I opened my eyes again, and continued to stare at Frank’s sleeping body. The scorpion tattoo wasn’t the only one he had, it turned out. I hadn’t noticed last night, or maybe I had and forgot, but he had a large jack-o-lantern tattooed on his back, just below his neck, right between his shoulder blades. The face carved into it grinned a wide grin, stretching across half of the pumpkin. I wondered what his deal with jack-o-lanterns was.

I remembered last night’s events, both before and after he had arrived, as my eyes continued to roam his back. He wasn’t very muscular, but almost lean, and his back muscles showed, as his arms were tucked underneath his head. I noticed a tattoo on his left arm, too, a band going around his bicep, with words I couldn’t see clearly. Suddenly, he let out a small sound, almost a whine, shifted a little, and fell still again with a sigh. He really was like a little kid, besides, of course, what he’d done last night. I got up, careful not to step on Frank, and wrapped myself around with a blanket. I went to the kitchen to start the water boiling, my head still hurting and my muscles aching. The bottle of whiskey from last night was still there, lying on the floor. I picked it up. It was emptier than I remembered leaving it. That would explain my head.

Setting the water to boil, I walked back toward my bedroom. A hot shower was what I needed. I picked a clean change of clothes and a towel and walked past the still slumbering Frank into my bathroom. Stepping into the shower, I let the water engulf me, closing my eyes and thinking. What was I going to tell Frank? Surely he was confused. God, he was probably going to ask me “What was that about?” or “What does this mean for us?” or something. I felt like puking. Whatever. I’d just tell him he’d come to my door at a bad time and that I’d been drunk and had done things without thinking. The whole thing had been meaningless.

Making up my mind, I stepped out of the shower, got dressed, and walked into the kitchen. Filling up a tall cup of coffee, I made myself comfortable at the kitchen counter, sipping my drink and slowly coming back to life. Only when I was almost done did Frank finally wake up and come out of my room, wearing just his pants. I inhaled sharply as I took Frank in. He looked rather ruffled and sleepy, feet dragging, shoulders slumped. His soft, dark hair was messy and sticking up in several directions, even as he ran his hand through it, which actually made it worse. He blinked several times, his eyebrows furrowed, lip jutting out, making him look confused. And Jesus Christ, cute as hell.

“Hey, have you seen my shirt?” He asked, squinting up at me.

I smiled into my cup, and pointed to where I had thrown it to the floor last night. I watched as Frank picked his shirt up and pulled it on, covering up the newly found tattoos. “So, why the pumpkin?” I asked, finishing my coffee and setting it down.

“What?”

“The tattoo. On your back?”

“Oh,” he gave a half smile. “My first tattoo. My birthday’s on Halloween, and it’s my favorite holiday, so,” he shrugged.

“How about the one around your arm?”

“Oh. That one says loyalty, honesty and respect, the qualities I wanted to have, I guess.”

“Age 19, already have three tattoos?”

He grinned. “Five, actually.” At seeing me raise my eyebrows in question, he walked forward and leaned on the counter, across from me. He rolled up the sleeve on his right arm a little, revealing a small broken heart on his wrist. “From my old band. And there’s another one on my ankle. I’d have more, but I couldn’t trick anybody into giving me a tattoo before my 18th birthday.”

I nodded, interested. I had planned on kicking him out earlier, but I really had wanted to know more about the tattoos. Now that that was over…
“So, about last night,” I started bluntly. Normally I was shy about this sort of thing. I didn’t go around sleeping with people, and was never really comfortable with it. But that was then. I simply didn’t care anymore, and if I wanted to do something, I was going to do it. Sure, I’d laughed about it just the other day, but I was sticking to the Downfall.

Frank, however, turned pink at just the mention. I softened my voice a little. I didn’t want the guy’s feelings to get hurt, that would be a pain. “Look, Frank. Last night, that was just a…one-time thing, okay? I was drunk, and, well, the evening had been a bad one… Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you knew that it was a meaningless thing. You were there, you were, well, fairly good-looking, and it just happened. I’m not interested in anything more, I’m sorry.” I looked at his face to determine how he was going to react, wondering if I had hurt his feelings, but just found his wide eyes staring back.

After a few seconds of this, Frank gave a short laugh. I blinked. That wasn’t what I had been expecting. He looked up at me, giving a snide smile. “Don’t flatter yourself, Gerard. I mean,” he looked me up and down, “you’re attractive, but it’s not like I’m swooning over you, head over heels in love, so get off your high horse and stop acting like you just broke a poor little boy’s heart.”

My previously open mouth shut, jaw tensing, and I sat up higher on the stool. “Well, fine. Glad you feel the same way,” I said, my words chopped and stiff. “Sorry for trying to be nice.”

Frank wasn’t laughing or smiling anymore, but instead looked ticked off. “Yeah, thanks so much, don’t know what I would’ve done when I learned the guy I’ve known for less than a week didn’t have feelings for me. The horror, really.”

“Just trying to make sure you didn’t run back to your parents crying. I mean,” I leaned forward, putting on a sarcastic smile, “you’re barely legal.”

“Shove it, asshole.”

I’d opened my mouth to reply when my phone rang, beckoning me from the bedroom. I threw Frank a glare and swept past him into my room, grabbing the phone from the dresser.

“Hell-oh?” I answered, my voice still tinged with annoyance.

“Ge-Gerard?” A nervous voice came through the phone.

“Who is this?”

“I…I need your help.”

I frowned, still trying to figure out who it was. Then, it dawned on me. That voice. The last voice I’d ever expect to hear, especially after what its owner did. Especially after the things its owner put our family—and me—through.

“Mikey?”

Notes

I, personally, like this chapter. Frank's acting rather rude, who knows why? Oh yeah, also, BOOM Mikey Way. Hah, you thought he wasn't even going to be in the story. I didn't even mention him. But here he is. Does that ending count as a cliffhanger? I think it does. Oh, I forgot to mention in last chapter's notes, BUT HOW AMAZING IS FRANK'S ALBUM? I absolutely love it, bought the whole album and can't stop listening, memorizing the words for his concert. I'm going to see him Oct. 9, sooo excited. You'll probably see a countdown in the future notes as the date gets closer. Anyway, hope everybody enjoyed reading, make sure to comment what you think!