F*ck and Run

The following morning, Frank smacked at Gerard’s alarm clock at some ungodly hour, drowsily mumbling something about the evils of the music industry. The sun hadn’t even considered rising when he’d quietly slipped out of the bed. Gerard rolled over and sprawled out, stretching his aching muscles and drifting back to sleep.
Frank might’ve snuck back into the room to peck him on the lips and whisper a soft goodbye, but it was also completely possible Gerard had only selfishly dreamed it.
He woke up again a few hours later with just enough time to slip into some clothes and brush his teeth before racing off to his shift at the art store.
Seeing Frank on the phone with one of his clients the night before had left Gerard with an itch in his mind. It’d started when he realized he never had to take his work home with him like Frank did. Unless he counted the incredible employee discount on art supplies...
Gerard had been so thrilled when the store had offered him a job but now that he thought about it, it was just glorified dead-end retail work. It paid most of the bills, Gerard supposed. What it didn’t cover, he covered with the ridiculous amount of money his grandmother had left when she died. As happy as he’d been, he’d known all along that being a sales clerk at an art supply store was hardly a dream job. It hardly scratched this new itch.
There were things he loved about it, of course. He loved his crazy, old boss. He loved his coworker, Ray, the crazy hair-metal dude who was just finishing college. He loved wandering the aisles and running his hands over the tubes of paint. He loved creating sample sheets and mock-ups whenever his boss ordered a new kind of paint or ink.
Unfortunately, his job left him sort of frozen in place. He’d never been bothered by it before but the reality was that the housing market had changed a lot since Gerard last moved. New York was always up and coming. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to afford an apartment in the city if he ever decided to move again.
Gerard didn’t need to move. It wasn’t that. He liked his apartment. It was just that he had no fucking clue what he was supposed to do if he wanted to, say, move in with a boyfriend or something. His current place was big enough to accommodate a boyfriend. He’d originally moved in with Mikey when Mikey had been in college still. The place had suited the two of them just fine. When Mikey graduated and moved out, Gerard had turned his room into an art studio. Gerard could easily make adjustments to the place to suit a second person again.
It was too soon for him to be thinking about Frank like that. Not that he was thinking about Frank like that, of course. In Gerard’s mind, it was all hypotheticals… but those hypotheticals left him unsatisfied in some way he couldn’t really explain. He spent his train ride to work wondering why he’d never wanted more for himself...

Halfway through Gerard’s shift Frank had texted him the address of his prospective apartment as well as the time they were supposed to be there. The message ended with a sad face.

: (

Naturally, Gerard spent the rest of his afternoon over-analyzing what the fuck a sad face meant in such a context. Was Frank sad that Gerard was coming or just sad that he had to go at all?
Gerard left work 3 minutes early and got on a train headed downtown to meet Frank.

Once he stepped out of the subway station, he couldn’t stop himself from analyzing the surrounding neighborhood as if he was the one who would eventually have to live there.
Frank’s potential apartment was half a block from a cute corner store and a Mexican restaurant. The tree-lined block was made up of cute row houses that had all been turned into apartment buildings. On the opposite side of the street was a vintage clothing store and beside that... was a coffee house. He was just the smallest bit jealous that Frank could practically throw rocks at a coffee house from the window of his potential apartment.
He could see Frank up ahead, or, part of Frank, he presumed. He saw a pair of fidgeting, denim-clad legs that had to belong to Frank - as if the smoke curling up above wasn’t already a dead giveaway. Gerard didn’t really need to rely on his visual senses. He’d detected Frank’s scent the moment he’d rounded the corner. It was too early in the month for him to be acting like a bloodthirsty hunter, but Gerard found himself quickening his pace. He abruptly found himself face to face with a very cold, very bored, very frustrated-looking version of the same person who’d slipped out of his bed that morning.
Frank lifted himself off the steps when he saw Gerard.
“Hey.” he said shortly, puffing hard on the end of his cigarette.
“Hey.” Gerard echoed in a much more polite tone.
Frank flicked his cigarette into the gutter and quickly pulled out another. He’d probably been chain-smoking the entire time he’d been waiting there, Gerard guessed. He wordlessly copied Frank’s bad habit and lit a cigarette of his own.
“I want this to be over.” Frank grumbled, exhaling smoke, “I hate dealing with apartment brokers.”
“They’re not all bad.” Gerard offered conversationally. He had no idea what apartment brokers were like but he didn’t know what to do about how tense Frank seemed.
“Oh yes they are.” Frank laughed darkly, “I helped my friend Jamia find a place not too long ago. It was hell. This one guy tried to hit on her, even after showing up 45 minutes late. They’re never on time and they’re always assholes…”
Gerard couldn’t help but notice that the hand Frank was holding his cigarette with was shaking. Gerard’s senses weren’t acute enough to pick up on specific emotions other than the stench of fear, but it was as if Frank was giving off a negative scent. Anxiety maybe? Gerard had never picked up on it before, but it was totally possible, he supposed.
“Frank, are you okay?” Gerard asked softly.
“I’m just in a bad mood.” Frank sighed.
Gerard would’ve asked why, but he already knew the answer. He would’ve been in a bad mood too. Instead of pushing a conversation he knew the moody punk didn’t want to have he closed the space between them and pulled Frank in for a hug. It was something of a risk. There was a chance it would only piss Frank off even more.
Gerard’s apprehensions were, apparently, entirely in his head because Frank melted against him, burying his face in Gerard’s black wool coat and taking a long slow breath.
“I just fucking hate having to rely on other people.” Frank mumbled dejectedly. “Not because the people in my life are unreliable, I just… I prefer being independent, y’know?”
“Well… Just don’t look at it as dependency. It’s more like a trade, really, if you think about it. ‘Cause you’d do the same for your friends if they were in your position...” Gerard pointed out, running his hand through Frank’s hair in an attempt to soothe him.
“We’re not friends.” Frank reminded sarcastically with a small chuckle.
Gerard bit his lip and smiled weakly in agreement, even though Frank couldn’t see it. It felt a little like Frank had stabbed a knife into his chest and then twisted the blade a little to add some personal finesse. He was speechless; Paralyzed by the idea that he could possibly be so madly in love with someone who wouldn’t even acknowledge him as a friend.
“Do you recognize that coffee house across the street?” Frank asked, interrupting Gerard’s silent, agonizing train of thought. He burrowed one of his hands into Gerard’s coat to leach off of his warmth.
“Uh… should I?” Gerard asked, glancing at the place across the street.
It looked familiar in a vague sort of way. They all looked like that though, really, if Gerard really thought about it...
“Maybe? I don’t know.” Frank said softly.
“Why?” Gerard asked, engulfing Frank in the fabric of the front of his coat.
“We sort of… were on a date for about 30 seconds there once. I mean, if you could call it that.” He twisted his face to puff on his cigarette but kept himself pressed tightly against Gerard.
“No shit.” Gerard breathed.
He was supposed to remember that kind of thing. He figured Frank must’ve had some kind of point system developed to keep score of just how bad of a boyfriend Gerard would be. Gerard was probably in the fucking bad boyfriend hall of fame at this point.
“To be fair they changed the paint job on the outside…” Frank offered, “I didn’t recognize it at first either. That shade of green is so... hideous…”
“I’m sorry but I…” Gerard whispered, pulling away enough to try and get Frank to look at him.
“You don’t have to be sorry, Gerard.” Frank interrupted, looking up at Gerard, “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.”
He didn’t look the least bit upset, which only served to confuse Gerard even more.
“If you’d just let me finish, I was gonna say that I don’t remember what the fucking place looked like because I was too busy looking at you…” Gerard said, sounding a little more cross than he wanted to. Frank’s mood had maybe rubbed off on him a little.
He meant it though. It was hard to remember or even fucking care where he was when he was with Frank. They could’ve been sipping lattes handcrafted by ancient aliens while sitting at a table by the window on the fucking moon and Gerard would still be more interested in Frank.
Frank bit his lip as he stared back at Gerard.
Gerard had three small words on the tip of his fucking tongue. It was so easy. It was almost too fucking easy to just say them and mean them completely.

“Excuse me, are either of you Frank…. Eee-Are-Oh?” someone said, startling the both of them. They both took a step away from one another, awkwardly trying to make it look like they hadn’t just been in the middle of a moment.
“It’s pronounced, ‘Eye Air Oh.’” Gerard corrected crossly, turning to look at the hotshot who had just interrupted him. The guy had rockstar hair and… sunglasses on, despite the fact that it was cloudy, cold, and the middle of February. Gerard instantly hated him.
“That’s me. Hi! I’m Frank.” Frank said, reaching out to shake the guy’s hand.
“Hi Frank, nice to finally meet you. I’m Adam.” hotshot said. He let go of Frank’s hand and pulled his shades off, shaking out his long, wavy hair. He was good looking, but totally not Gerard’s type.
“…And you are?” Adam asked, turning to Gerard and reaching out to shake his hand.
“Gerard.” Gerard offered coldly, taking the guy’s hand and shaking it weakly.
“Nice to meet you.” Adam said, squeezing Gerard’s hand a little harder than was probably necessary.
“Alright so, let’s get down to business.” Adam said, pulling out a set of keys and climbing the stairs the building entrance. Frank followed behind him with Gerard in tow.
“I think you’re really gonna like this place, Frank.” Adam continued, unlocking the door and holding it open for Frank and Gerard, “The unit has been really well-maintained… Original mouldings, original tile-work… parquet flooring…”
Gerard tuned out the details, following closely behind Frank as they climbed the stairs to the 2nd floor.
“So Frank, what do you do?” Adam asked conversationally.
“I’m in the music industry.” Frank offered.
“Music, huh? What instrument do you play?” Adam asked, feigning interest.
“Guitar, mostly.” Frank said, “But I’m not in a band. I’m a tour manager.”
“Oh cool!” Adam said, pulling out his keys again and fiddling with the lock in front of one of the apartments, “I play guitar too.”
Adam swung the door open and flicked the lights on.
“I’ll let you two look around while I arrange the paperwork.” Adam said, digging around in his shoulder bag.
Gerard followed closely behind Frank, taking in the apartment as if it would someday be his own. He hated himself for the way he was cataloging the details but he couldn’t stop himself.
They wandered down the hallway and peered into a small kitchen. Frank said nothing as he blinked at the original tiling.
Frank ran his fingers along the wall as he made his way to room at the end of the hallway.
Gerard followed Frank into the empty bedroom. Frank crossed the room and looked out the window. Gerard watched Frank’s silhouette as he stared out at the view, heaving a deep sigh and leaning against the windowsill.
“What do you think, Frankie? Do you like it?” Gerard asked, crossing the room and wrapping his arms around Frank to hug him from behind.
“I don’t know. It’s smaller than my last place.” Frank sighed. “The view is nice, I guess?”
The window looked out over a small tree-filled courtyard with a few benches and an overflowing ashtray. Gerard could see beyond the rooftop. The varying levels of buildings on other blocks stretched on and on. Frank would be able to see a lot of the neighborhood from his bed.
“Well,” Gerard said softly, “If you don’t like it this place then there’s-“
“No. It’s not that.” Frank interrupted, “I mean, I could be happy anywhere really. I’m just… I don’t know.”
“If you’d ever let me finish…” Gerard bickered fondly, hugging Frank tighter.
“Oh, I always let you finish.” Frank leered softly, pulling away from Gerard. “C’mon. Let’s see if the bath tub is easy to kill ourselves in. It’s on my mental checklist of things to avoid...”

To Frank’s extreme delight, the bathroom did not have a bathtub at all. Instead there was just a shower stall. Gerard thought the bathroom was too small, but he didn’t say it out loud. He was there for moral support above anything else.
“There’s no bath tub at all...” Frank commented evenly as he stood inside the shower running his fingers over the tiles,
“If you really miss it you can always come over and take baths at my place.” Gerard flirted.
“Oh really?” Frank asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked over at Gerard.
“Of course. It would be my pleasure.” Gerard nodded, leaning against the sink. He glanced over and checked himself out in the mirror.
“So what do you guys think?” Adam asked, startling the shit out of Gerard for the second time in twenty minutes, “Does it get the boyfriend seal of approval?”
“Oh, he’s not my-“ Frank quickly corrected, laughing nervously, “Gerard’s just a friend… We’re just… friends.”
He made eye contact with Gerard as he said it. A blush crept over his cheeks as his lip twitched up in a private smirk. Gerard’s breath caught in his fucking throat at the way Frank was looking at him.
“Oh, uh, okay, whatever. Sorry.” Adam stuttered, “It was rude of me to assume...”
The three men stared between each other awkwardly for a moment. Either Frank or Adam was going to have to say something because Gerard was a little busy trying to figure out how to get his lungs to work again.
“Anyway, so what do you guys think of the place?” Adam asked, saving the fucking day.
“I like it alright.” Frank shrugged.
“Great!” Adam said, “There’s a little bit of preliminary paperwork I gonna need you to fill out if you’re interested. Wanna get started?”
“Sure. Couldn’t hurt.” Frank nodded, stepping out of the shower and following Adam out of the bathroom.
Gerard stayed in the bathroom, leaning against the sink, completely stunned. Frank had just admitted to their friendship to a complete stranger. He felt so pathetic for seeing it as a victory, but he couldn’t help the way it made his heart flutter. He listened to Frank laugh his fake, polite laugh as Adam explained the different pieces of paperwork in the other room.
By the time they were done, Gerard’s breathing had mostly returned to normal. He still felt fluttery as he followed Frank and Adam down the stairs and out of the apartment building.
“I’ll run your paperwork and probably call you… some time tomorrow?” Adam said, scrolling through his phone.
“Great.” Frank replied wearily.Adam had tossed them a professional smile, shook Frank’s hand, shook Gerard’s hand, and then turned on his heels and left.

And just like that, they were alone, across from the cursed coffee house Gerard was still torturing himself over.
“So, um, Gerard…” Frank started.
“Frank...” Gerard echoed. Before he could stop himself he was pulling Frank in and kissing him hard. Frank kissed back, wrapping his arms around Gerard’s neck and pressing closer. It felt painfully right. Gerard could feel the twang at the back of his throat, the instinctual desperate need for Frank. He wanted to take Frank back into the apartment building and fuck him on the stupid parquet floors.
“What was that for?” Frank asked, pulling his lips away and resting his forehead against Gerard’s.
“You said we were friends.” Gerard offered, “I thought we weren’t friends?”
“Well… yknow.” Frank uttered quickly, cheeks flushing a bright pink, “I couldn’t exactly explain….”
“Do you wanna get coffee with me?” Gerard asked suddenly.
“Now?” Frank squeaked.
“Yeah. Right now.” Gerard nodded, “I want a do-over. If you let me... I can fix our first date.”
“Gerard.” Frank breathed, furrowing his brow and giving Gerard an incredulous look.
“Please, Frank.” Gerard begged, “I just want to make things right.”
“I can’t...” Frank sighed. “It’s Thursday. I have to be at the bar in 30 minutes.”
“The bar?” Gerard asked. His brain didn’t want to process it as rejection but his heart was already sinking in rejection.
“I’m a bartender, remember?” Frank laughed nervously.
“Oh, right.” Gerard nodded pulling away and staring at the ground. He could feel himself blushing and he absolutely hated the idea that his emotions were all over his fucking face.
“But maybe some other time,” Frank said, ducking back into Gerard’s line of sight, “When things aren’t so crazy, we could… y’know...”
“Some other time.” Gerard nodded, offering Frank a small, weak smile.
Frank pulled Gerard’s arm and lead them in the direction of the subway station. Gerard allowed himself to be pulled along in mopey silence. He didn’t want to act like such a jerk but he suddenly felt like shit.
Frank didn’t say anything about Gerard’s sudden change in mood. He just pecked him on the cheek and promised he’d call Gerard when he was off work. Gerard watched him cross the street to get on the subway platform for the trains headed further downtown. Gerard descended the set of steps leading uptown, back to his apartment. He could see Frank across the platform for a few seconds before his train came. Frank offered him a tiny wave before the train whizzed past in between them.

Once Gerard got home he found himself pacing around his empty apartment, trying to sift through his feelings. Frank hadn’t technically been opposed to the idea of them going on a date, and that had to count for something.
It was nerve-wracking to think about actually taking Frank on a date and getting everything right. What if he forgot something and pissed Frank off? What if Frank watched him eating something non-vegan and got grossed out? What if they went on a date too close to the moon and Frank judged him for not being able to keep his hands to himself?
There were too many ‘what if’s, too many opportunities for Gerard to ruin everything.
He let out a heavy, defeated sigh, put on a record and retired to his drawing table. He figured he might as well take advantage of the time he had away from Frank to work on some sketches. He quickly found himself lost in inking out a few pages of sabotaged dates.
A two-headed cat looked incredibly bored as a ghost talked about itself too much.
A girl with her all her fingers cut off struggled to hold her date’s hand.
A wolf got too handsy with it’s cute, punkish date in a movie theatre…
That one was too real. Gerard tore the page out of his sketchbook and immediately carried it into the kitchen. He pulled out a cigarette and pursed it between his lips, lighting the piece of paper on fire and bringing the flame to the end of his cigarette. He inhaled the nicotine deeply as he watched the paper uncrumple in flames in his sink. Once the paper was burned completely, he turned on the tap and washed the ashes down the sink.
After finishing his cigarette, Gerard ended up in the shower and then on the couch with cartoon reruns and a bowl of popcorn.
His hair was still damp when he heard the intercom buzz. He glanced over at the clock. It was almost 3 in the morning so it was likely Frank, even though he hadn’t called.
Gerard lifted himself off the couch and floated over the intercom, pressing the ‘door’ button to let Frank into the building. He checked to make sure the door was unlocked and leaned against the wall, waiting by the door for his temporary houseguest to make his way up all those stairs.
Eventually he heard Frank’s footsteps in the hallway and pulled the door open for him.
“Sorry I didn’t call.” Frank huffed, as he wandered past Gerard into the apartment. “And I’m sorry it’s so late… And just… Thanks for waiting up.”
“It’s no problem. I would’ve been up anyways.” Gerard shrugged, closing the door and sliding the deadbolt into place, “How was work?”
“Fine.” Frank sighed, slipping out of his coat and hanging it on a hook by the door, “I don’t know what the fuck was up with my customers tonight. Had to kick a few people out and then… I got phone numbers from like four different people. Even this one chick… I explained I didn’t swing that way but… And then I had to break up a fight.”
“You do look exceptionally good today.” Gerard offered encouragingly, taking in Frank’s disheveled appearance. He needed a shave and he had dark rings under his eyes. He looked pretty to Gerard, even when he was partied out and stressed and exhausted.
“Shut up.” Frank commanded fondly, rolling his eyes.
“I would’ve given you my number…” Gerard trailed off.
“If memory serves… You would’ve done more than that.” Frank smirked, unzipping his sweatshirt and kicking off his shoes.
“I mean, I wouldn’t- You’re just-” Gerard stammered, “I didn’t realize you got phone numbers so often. Though I guess it makes sense.”
“What? Are you jealous?” Frank asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Not jealous, just… curious, I guess?” Gerard offered, staring down at the floor and feeling himself blush.
“I usually throw them away at the end of the night.” Frank explained, closing the distance between him and Gerard. They were less than a foot apart and Gerard could feel every fucking inch. He didn’t understand why the possibility of getting close to Frank made him buzz under his skin, even after all the time they’d spent alone together.
“Oh.” Gerard breathed, not trusting his brain to form rational, subject-changing words.
He closed his eyes as Frank wrapped his arms around Gerard’s neck. His breath smelled like cigarettes and alcohol, delicately masking all the chemical aspects that made him irresistible to Gerard.
“Is it fucked up that the thought of you getting jealous over something like that turns me on?” Frank asked softly.
“Um, well,” Gerard answered, “maybe, but-”
Frank cut him off by pressing his lips against Gerard’s. He supposed he should’ve seen it coming, but he was thrown off somehow. It was like his brain wasn’t on board with his body, which apparently had no problem reciprocating Frank’s apparent interests in making out. He thoughtlessly walked Frank back towards the bedroom, pulling him closer when he nearly stumbled backwards over the threshold. Gerard could taste the whiskey on his tongue. He wasn’t sure if it was because Frank had consumed a lot of it or if his supernatural attributes just increased his ability to detect the sweet liquor. He decided it was a little bit of both.
They crash-landed onto the bed in a tangled mess of kissing and clothes and limbs. Gerard wasn’t sure how Frank ended up on top of him, but he couldn’t complain, especially given the way Frank was grinding their hips together. He was so lost in the feeling of Frank’s lips all over him in the dark, that he almost forgot to bite his tongue against the cursed L-word trying to fight it’s way out of his mouth.

Notes

sorry for the lack of updating. i may have relocated to a city that's much more punk than the previous city i lived in - which was deeply un-punk.

on march 22nd, or like, that day we don't need to talk about, i drove a fucking moving truck through most of the state of new jersey. what a cruel reminder? i ended up at some truck stop on the NJ turnpike. i got coffee and then proceeded to get all contemplative and sad in the beautiful NJ twilight.

comment!! tell me how y'all spent the.... anniversary

-m