F*ck and Run

Frank wasn’t sure how long he stood there, listening to the sounds the creature in the basement was making. They varied from growls to whines. He couldn’t decide if it sounded like it was in pain or just on the warpath, thirsting for blood. He wasn’t sure if Gerard even thirsted for blood or not. He’d have to ask about that if he remembered. He’d probably remember a question like that. He couldn’t picture the face would Gerard make when he asked it.
Eventually his legs got tired so he sat on the floor, right by the basement door. He was vaguely aware of Mikey going about his evening. He went out to retrieve his cold cheeseburger, microwaved it, and then ate it quietly in front of his laptop. He didn’t get up for awhile, furiously typing away about something. It reminded Frank that he had to get back to the rest of his life soon. He was sure he had a thousand texts and e-mails, an angry boss - maybe two, one curious Jamia Nestor… Some part of him wished he could stay at the cabin forever and ignore his impending responsibilities. Life in the city had been so cruel in recent times, Frank wasn’t sure if it was even worth the trouble anymore. He’d thought about moving back to slow, quiet Jersey neighborhood he’d grown up in. With a resume like his, he could easily find work out there. But he knew there was too much he’d feel like he was missing. The shows, the bands, his friends, Gerard…
Mikey got up and went out for a cigarette in the cabin’s look-out. When he came back, bringing the smell of cigarettes with him, he grabbed two beers from the fridge and sat down beside Frank.
“I’d tell you that you shouldn’t sit there all night,” Mikey said, twisting the cap off of one of the bottles and placing it front of Frank, “But that’s exactly what I did the first couple of times.”
Mikey opened the other beer and took a swig.
“It doesn’t ever get less weird. I promise.” he added, “One second he’s Gerard and then he’s just… not.”
“But you’ll get used to it.” he added, “Maybe? I don’t know. It’s not really the kind of thing you get used to, but it definitely gets easier.”
Frank wasn’t sure what to say, so he didn’t say anything. He reached for the beer in front of him and took a small experimental sip. He didn’t feel like drinking, but he also didn’t feel like not drinking. He felt the chill of the liquid all the way down, even as it curled in his stomach.
Frank could practically feel the vibrations of the creature thrashing to find a way out of it’s cage. It sounded like it would chew it’s way right up through the floor. When he glanced over at Mikey, he seemed completely unaffected.
Frank wasn’t sure why he’d put all his trust in the cage the Way’s had built. There technically wasn’t much between him and a terrifying, angry wolf. He was far from safe. But he had seen the silver-coated bars. They were thick and clean and reinforced. He trusted them.
“Is he always so loud?” Frank found himself asking.
“Not usually, no.” Mikey offered thoughtfully, “I typically try to get out of the basement before he changes. It howls for longer if it sees me. It definitely saw you, too, so it’s probably pretty antsy.”
“What do you mean?” Frank asked, noticing that Mikey compartmentalized the wolf and Gerard the same way Gerard had. He treated them like two different entities, skirting around the idea that the creature underneath the floorboards was his brother, and not just some other monster he felt inclined to babysit.
“Did he explain his overwhelming need to like, rip you to shreds?” Mikey asked pointedly, raising a curious eyebrow.
“His words. Not mine.” Mikey added, taking in Frank’s horrified expression, “A heightened sense of smell sort of comes with the territory, obviously. But it’s stronger with certain people. Like you for example. He said he could easily find you in a crowd, if he had to. He can tell you’ve been in a room, even after you’ve left. When you dumped him he couldn’t stay in his apartment because of how your smell lingered.”
Mikey paused to take a swig of his beer.
“He can do it with me, too.” Mikey said, “But it’s not as… intense, as it is with you. I don’t know. I guess what I’m trying to say is that if that thing in the basement had to pick between the two of us, it would go after you without a moment’s hesitation. For whatever reason, it wants you almost as bad as Gerard does.”
“I’m not trying to scare you.” Mikey amended, “I just think you should be aware of the kind of danger you’re putting yourself in.”
“For the record I didn’t dump him.” Frank pointed out, swallowing hard, “We’d have to have been in a relationship in the first place for-”
“Really not my business.” Mikey interrupted, “But Gerard doesn’t ever let the people he gets with into his apartment. Ever. Even the ones he intends to see more than once. It’s a very strict rule for him. You were different from the start. I’m not saying he’s perfect. I’m not even gonna lie and say he knows the first thing about relationships. But it’s always been different with you.”
“Even if you didn’t technically dump him.” Mikey added, “He looked worse than Jamia did when that guy broke things off with her a couple years ago. You remember that? What was his name?”
“Some white guy name...” Frank mused fondly, “Damon? Anthony? Fuck if I remember.”
“Whatever. He was heartbroken.” Mikey said, “Like sending-break-up-mixtapes-to-half-the-labels-on-the-distro-list heartbroken. Thank God Gerard doesn’t have access to that list. Why did she even have that?”
“I may or may not have had something to do with that.” Frank smirked.
A blood-curdling howl from the basement wiped the smile right off his face.
“Um, how many other people have seen him like that?” Frank asked.
“Just you and me… And our grandmother but she’s dead.” Mikey said thoughtfully, “And I’m pretty sure she always thought it was a metaphor for his drinking problem. Gerard’s always been very into metaphors.”
“Oh...” Frank said softly.
“He’s a very private person. Won’t even tell our mom. He says there’s no reason to drag anyone into this unnecessarily.” Mikey sighed, “He barely even let me help him in the first place. I think he’d do it all on his own if he could.”
“That sounds like Gerard...” Frank agreed.
They were quiet as another round of thrashing could be heard from the basement. This was totally weird.
“But, um, Frank, I guess I owe you an apology.” Mikey said.
“Why?” Frank asked, thinking if anyone should be sorry it should be Gerard. And Gerard was sorry. Really fucking sorry. He’d said it plenty of times.
“Last night, you asked me why I set you up with him.” Mikey pointed out, “I told you lots of things about him, but not… this. And I guess I just… didn’t think things would go the way they did, you know? I knew he’d like you right away. I wasn’t sure if you’d like him back, though. And I really thought he’d fucking tell you before things got serious.”
“Yeah, well…” Frank scoffed.
“It just played so different in my head. I’m so sorry you had to find out the way you did.” Mikey reiterated, “I thought he’d tell you and you’d think it was cool.”
“Cool...” Frank repeated sarcastically.
“You like dogs, you like horror movies, you like... guys?” Mikey tried, “Gerard’s... all three at once? A boyfriend who turns into a horror movie dog once a month.”
“Well when you put it that way…” Frank trailed off, letting out a yawn.
“You should sleep.” Mikey said, “Gerard won’t be back until the morning.”
“Where should I set up camp?” Frank asked.
“You can have the room upstairs that you guys slept in last night, if you want?” Mikey offered, “We also have sleeping bags if you wanna just curl up on the floor like a fucking dog.” When Frank looked over, Mikey was trying to fight a smile and it wasn’t working.
“I don’t know if I wanna be so far away...” Frank said slowly, in all seriousness, “But I don’t wanna be too close to it either.”
“I think I know what you mean.” Mikey said, smile fading, “I already set the living room up for Gerard for the morning. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you crashed there.”
“Okay.” Frank nodded.
He liked the idea that Gerard could just come curl up once he was human again. He supposed Gerard could do that no matter where Frank decided to sleep, but something about finding his place in the routine Gerard had already built for himself made Frank feel safer.
Frank downed the rest of his beer and stood up. His vision swam a little. He’d been sitting a long time, he supposed.
“Oh. One thing...” Frank said, placing his empty bottle on the counter.
“Sure. What’s up?” Mikey asked, ghosting over to the fridge to grab himself another beer.
“About the um, binding.” Frank said, “Is there any way to undo it?”
“We still don’t know if you two are bound for sure.” Mikey pointed out, twisting the cap off his beer and flicking it into the sink, “But as far as I know there’s no undoing it.”
Frank bit his lip as he considered this information. Mikey waited patiently for Frank to work through it. It wasn’t like this hadn’t been at the back of his mind all day. It totally had. He’d experimented with accepting the idea that Gerard was maybe stuck to him in some weird, magic, forever sort of way. It seemed like a fairy tale almost. But it was a fairy tale meant for witches and princes and knights, where love was an epic end-all, be-all sort of thing. It wasn’t meant for a twenty-first century punk and artist duo who couldn’t even get a first date right. Not to mention, it was probably never meant to befall two dudes…
It was more of a curse for Gerard than it was for Frank. Frank could still walk away unscathed. It wasn’t like they could find the witch who’d created the curse. She’d probably been dead for centuries.
Frank loved Gerard. He didn’t want Gerard to be tied down. It seemed so unfair that the burden of a curse no one understood the rules of should fall on Gerard’s shoulders, when Frank had been the one to say his name. Frank was half responsible for the outcome.
“You want another beer?” Mikey asked.
“Um, sure.” Frank nodded.
“Just because I haven’t read anything about it doesn’t mean I’m going to stop looking.” Mikey explained, getting a second bottle out for Frank, “But there’s one thing I will say. It probably goes without saying, but whatever…”
Frank accepted the beer from Mikey and twisted off the cap.
“Gerard is my brother and I love him.” Mikey continued, “If he’s bound to you… That means the only person who can break his heart is you.”
“Right...” Frank agreed slowly.
“So I guess what I’m saying is just… don’t?” Mikey said simply.
“Don’t what?” Frank asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.
“Don’t break his heart.” Mikey said, “I think it would be better if you didn’t.”
“I mean, I’m not like, actively planning to?” Frank offered, slightly offended Mikey would even suggest it.
“I think you know what I’m getting at.” Mikey shrugged, “So I’ll skip the death threats.”
“Cool.” Frank smiled, taking a slug of his beer. No reason to get defensive now.
Frank studied Mikey’s thoughtful expression for a moment. The creature in the basement let out another howl and Mikey glanced up at Frank.
“I wasn’t asking because I’m looking for a way out of this.” Frank clarified, “I was asking because it just seems so… unfair to him. I don’t want him to be stuck to me, or to anyone.”
“While I agree with you, I’m kinda glad it’s you.” Mikey sighed, “There’s worse people he could be stuck with.”
“Wait, if I can make him change back…” Frank mused, “Couldn’t I just stop him from ever changing again altogether? I could go down there right now and end this, couldn’t I? All I have to do is say his name, right?”
“I thought about that.” Mikey said, shaking his head, “But I don’t think it works that way. I read somewhere that the creature like, needs to get out sometimes. He’d be stuck with those pre-full-moon side effects all the time if he didn’t let it out.”
Frank thought about how on-edge Gerard had seemed on the drive home. He could definitely see how that could be a problem in the long-run.
“You’ve been around him after the full moon before, probably. He sleeps a lot.” Mikey explained, “It takes something out of him. He’s so different before and after, it’s like night and day.”
“And It can’t be night all the time.” Mikey added, “He’d be insufferable.”
“No. You’re right.” Frank agreed, taking another sip of his beer. He was starting to feel sort of warm from the alcohol. It was a welcome warmth, but it was making him realize how exhausted he was.
“Have you ever…” Frank hesitated, “Have you ever tried to console the creature?”
“Console it?” Mikey asked in disbelief.
“Maybe it’s just lonely?” Frank shrugged, “Or hungry? Or bored?”
“Frank, you have to remember that it is a monster.” Mikey said sternly, “I try to keep at least one set of silver-coated bars and one door between me and that thing at all times. And I’d advise you to do the same.”
“It just sounds so upset.” Frank defended.
“Well yeah, it wants to eat you and it can’t. I’d probably be upset, too.” Mikey pointed out, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Fuck. Don’t make me talk to you like that. I hate sounding like a concerned parent.”
“That is what you sound like.” Frank agreed, “It was just a question...”
“If you want to go take another look at it, we can. I get that you’re curious.” Mikey went on, “But don’t go all PETA on me. The last thing I need is another fucking werewolf to take care of. One is enough.”
“Alright.” Frank offered obediently, “I don’t have a deathwish. Or a cursewish, or whatever you wanna call it. I’ll be careful.”
“That’s all I ask.” Mikey said, running a hand through his hair. He took a long swig of his beer, finishing half the bottle in one chug. He started packing up the paperwork and books spread over the kitchen table, stacking them into a neat pile in the center. He closed his laptop and unplugged the charger.
“Anyways, I’m going to try and get some shut-eye. I have to be up early to take care of Gerard.” Mikey said, “Are you gonna be okay by yourself?”
“Yeah.” Frank nodded, “Usually.”
“If you need anything… I’ll be upstairs.” Mikey offered, “There’s more beer in the fridge if you want it. DVD collection in the den, next to the TV. Don’t watch any of the scary ones. The monster in the basement is enough, I promise. Learned that one the hard way.” Frank watched as the younger Way wandered towards the door, beer in one hand, laptop tucked under the other.
“Mikey um…” Frank called after him, “Just, thanks for everything.”
“Shut up.” Mikey commanded fondly, disappearing down the hallway that lead to the stairs to the second floor.
Frank spent another couple of minutes standing in the kitchen alone, sipping his beer and listening to the creature down below. When he looked towards the basement door he felt a chill run down his spine. There was no way he could go down there alone, even if he wanted to. He was sure of that. The very thought terrified Frank.
Instead he wandered into the den. All the lights were off but he could make his way by the light from the kitchen that poured down the hall. As soon as he sat on the edge of the pull out bed, he felt incredibly heavy. He glanced at the dark TV across the room, too exhausted to go through the process of picking something to watch and figuring out how to work the TV before being able lay down again. He knew it might help him sleep. He could still hear the creature’s cries floating through the house. It sounded like it was in pain. How did Mikey sleep through it? How did the neighbors never ask about it? The wolf was so fucking loud.

Frank set his beer down on the floor and fell back onto the pillows, making sure to leave a Gerard-sized space by his side. He couldn’t promise he wouldn’t move in his sleep, but it was all Frank could really do before sleep came crashing down on him.
~

Frank awoke to the sound of shower water running. He opened his eyes to find dawn spilling in through the cabin’s windows. He pulled the quilts tightly around his shoulders and shivered. He found he didn’t sleep as well without Gerard’s burning furnace of a body beside him.
He got up slowly, head foggy, mouth dry, and wandered into the kitchen. The basement door hung open. A set of brown-black footprints trailed through the kitchen, leading to the first floor bathroom. The door was closed, but Frank could hear their voices. Gerard was back. Mikey was talking to him softly. He turned and wandered back to the pull-out bed in the interest of giving them their space. He’d ask Gerard more about the post-moon routines when he had the chance.
The bed wasn’t as warm as it had been. Frank had left the quilt folded back and the sheets had cooled. He remembered something Gerard had said about the room upstairs being the warmest room in the house.
He rolled himself up in the chilly quilts and focused on the quiet and stillness. There were no more cries from the basement. He fell asleep again easily, breathing in the scent of mothballs and cedar and Gerard.
~

Frank felt the mattress dip beside him, pulling him from some dream he was having about driving aimlessly through the woods.
“I can’t believe you’re still here.” Gerard purred against Frank’s ear.
Frank was immediately offended in a way that typically required caffeine to deal with. It was too early for Gerard to be starting this shit. His eyes fluttered open. The sun had come up and Gerard’s cold, damp hair was dripping onto his neck.
“Listen…” Frank croaked out defensively, “You said you were sorry. I know you’re sorry. No more self-loathing from you until we’re back in the city.”
“Well, fuck you, too.” Gerard laughed, pulling Frank in for a hug.
It was hard to stay mad when Gerard was so fucking warm. Frank couldn’t help but roll over and press himself against Gerard’s burning skin.
“Cold?” he asked.
“Always.” Frank answered.
Gerard pulled the quilt over their heads and Frank immediately decided he wasn’t mad at all, now that Gerard had made the sunlight go away.
“I just meant that I know you’re busy.” Gerard explained softly, “I wasn’t trying to guilt-trip you. Too early for that.”
“Too early.” Frank agreed.
Gerard ran his fingers through Frank’s hair, making him feel light and empty.
The quiet was gone. Mikey had music on in the other room. The smell of something very non-vegan wafted into the room. Frank pretended not to notice it and focus on the music. It was too soft for him to make out any of the words, but the tune sounded familiar.
This was the longest he’d gone without listening to music in a while. He’d have to change that as soon as he was back in New York.
“You have to go back today though, don’t you?” Gerard asked, “You have work tomorrow.”
Frank could hear the exhaustion in his voice. He’d technically been up all night. Frank had heard him.
“Don’t remind me.” Frank groaned, “I’ve been avoiding my seven thousand other problems by focusing on the only one I can’t do anything about.”
“I see how it is. You think of me as an unsolvable problem?” Gerard teased.
“Fuck you. I didn’t mean it like that.” Frank grumbled.
“You’re so mean in the morning…” Gerard sighed, pressing his lips against Frank’s. What Frank had meant to keep as an innocent reciprocation turned un-innocent pretty quick. It was all because Gerard wasn’t wearing a shirt, or pants. Just boxers. He’d just gotten out of the shower, too, so Frank totally got a boner, and why did they have to be in the only room in the whole house that didn’t have any doors?
It wasn’t Frank’s fault, Gerard had started it by pushing closer and shoving his tongue in Frank’s mouth, pinning him against the creaky, awful mattress.
“I want you.” Gerard gritted out in between kisses, “Let’s um, let’s go upstairs…”
“You want me to get up?” Frank complained.
“I’ll make it worth your while.” Gerard promised, palming at Frank’s dick through his jeans.
“Please?” he hummed, kissing Frank’s neck.
Frank couldn’t remember the last time someone had tricked him into getting out of bed with the promise of sex, if ever, but he found himself following Gerard. He shivered all the way up the stairs to the second floor.
Half asleep, he let Gerard do exactly what he wanted to do. It seemed to require little work on his part anyways. Gerard had him on his back, panting and useless in no time. Frank could see himself getting used to this.
By the time Gerard was done with him, Frank decided blow-jobs were a much more effective way to start the day than coffee ever had been. Though, he supposed, the reason coffee was a more popular suggestion was because it was so much easier to come by. Something told him they wouldn’t be hard to come by if Frank kept Gerard around.
It looked like Gerard wasn’t going to make him get out of this bed anytime soon, so he pulled a blanket over them and shuffled closer.

“Thinking about everything I wanna do with you is exhausting.” Gerard said quietly, stroking small circles over Frank’s hip with his fingertips.
“I don’t know if I could do that again any time soon.” Frank admitted, “Maybe in a few hours…”
The idea that Gerard’s sexual habits and interests were out in the open was something of a concern for Frank. What about the days when Frank just wasn’t in the mood? Gerard said it wasn’t Frank’s job to satisfy him, but that still left Frank with some curiosity. Did Gerard just jack off all the time? Did he like porn or did he prefer his own fantasies? Was an hour of fucking more satiating than going at it for 5 minutes 3 separate times in an hour? How did he even do that?
“I wasn’t talking about that.” Gerard said, interrupting Frank’s train of thought. Frank didn’t have to open his eyes. He could hear the smile in Gerard’s voice.
“I was talking about… everything else.” Gerard went on, “All the places I wanna take you. All the stuff I wanna show you. When you have the time for it, of course.”
“I’ll make time for it...” Frank promised, heart fluttering.
Mikey had turned his music up. Frank could hear it more clearly than he could before. That was definitely The Misfits. Of course it was The Misfits. Who else?
“Can I ask you something though?” Frank asked after a beat.
Gerard hummed softly, hugging Frank tighter. That was close enough to a ‘yes,’ Frank decided.
“Why now?” Frank asked, “Why didn’t you wanna do those things before? I mean, I guess I don’t even know what things you’re talking about...”
“I didn’t think you’d want to go anywhere with me. After the way coffee went that one time…” Gerard mused, “I thought you’d already decided I was no good.”
“I am no good.” Gerard said, correcting himself, “I lied to you. I don’t deserve to go anywhere with you.”
“I thought I said no more self-loathing.” Frank said softly.
“Just being honest.” Gerard mumbled.
“I wanna go everywhere with you...” Frank said, feeling so corny and sappy he sort of wanted to punch himself in the face, “Seriously, Gee. Wherever. Whenever.”
“Be careful what you ask for, Frankie.” Gerard said, “I might be forced to take you on a thousand awful dates.”
“Please.” Frank begged, “Exactly one thousand.”
“Just because we survived one date doesn’t mean we’ll survive the rest.” Gerard teased.
“We haven’t survived any dates.” Frank pointed out.
“I think breakfast yesterday counted.” Gerard suggested.
“That?” Frank asked skeptically.
“Why not?” Gerard asked.
“I don’t know. I guess that counts.” Frank tutted, “But hey, if we can survive breakfast, we can survive anything.”
“I’ll do it all.” Gerard promised, “I’ll talk about shit you don’t care about. I’ll brag about my career. I’ll pick a restaurant without any vegan options. I’ll even get food on my shirt...”
“Do you absolutely promise?” Frank asked.
“I fuckin promise.” Gerard grinned.

They stayed in bed well into the afternoon. Gerard was exhausted so he slept through most of the morning, occasionally waking up enough to press a few sloppy kisses into Frank’s shoulder before dozing off again.
Mikey must’ve worked his way through the entire Misfits discography, even a few songs post-Danzig, which Frank was embarrassed he recognized so well.
When the sky was starting to darken again, Frank got up. Gerard had a few more nights of transitions, but Frank had work in the morning. The manhattan grind slowed for no one. Not even busy tour managers with werewolves for boyfriends.
“I think I have to get going.” Frank announced, kissing the tip of Gerard’s nose.
“Now?” Gerard asked, half-awake.
“Yeah. Long drive.” Frank sighed, “Not looking forward to it. Jamia’s car only has a tape player and I hate the radio.”
“Even the oldies station?” Gerard croaked.
“Not in the mood.” Frank shrugged, biting his thumbnail.
“We’ve got a lot of tapes downstairs if you wanna look those over before you go.” Gerard yawned, “Here. I’ll show you.”
“Don’t get up.” Frank insisted, “I’ll have Mikey show me.”
Gerard sat up and pushed the blankets off anyways.
“At least let me give you a proper kiss goodbye.” Gerard said, sliding out of the bed and reaching for Frank. He gathered the punk in his arms and kissed him hard, and deep, and full of feeling. Just when Frank thought they’d exhausted themselves of passion for one weekend, here Gerard was, giving him more.
“I love you.” Gerard said quietly.
“Yeah?” Frank breathed.
“You’re not gonna say it back?” Gerard mumbled.
“I love you, too.” Frank said, pecking him on the lips.
“Asshole.” Gerard whispered, releasing his hold on Frank and dropping back down onto the bed.
Frank turned to leave, trying to remember where he’d left his coat, his jacket, his cellphone.
“You’re going back to my place, right?” Gerard asked, pulling the quilts up over himself.
“Um… I was gonna stay at J’s.” Frank said.
“You know you can stay at my place if you want to.” Gerard said, “You’re always welcome.”
“Alright.” Frank nodded, studying Gerard for one final moment before slipping out of the room.

The tape collection was unreal.
“This place hasn’t changed since the fucking 90s.” was all Mikey said before returning to his laptop.
Frank left the cabin with his two favorite Smashing Pumpkins albums and a dust-covered copy of Alkaline Trio’s ‘Goddamnit,’ all on tape. He knew they wouldn’t last him the whole drive, but Frank didn’t even care. He was about to sing his fucking heart out on the interstate and no one would be there to judge him.
~

Frank stopped for gas before he really hit civilization. He sent a text to Jamia, telling her he’d be by to drop the car off before going back to Gerard’s. He blatantly ignored the other five thousand text messages he’d been avoiding all weekend. By the time he was done filling up the tank she’d already texted back to confirm. Frank swallowed hard, trying to figure out what the fuck he was going to tell her. He could tell her everything but the monster in the basement part. Oh, and the part where he’d almost been mauled to death by a hungry wolf under an ancient witch’s’ curse.
He and Gerard had made up. They’d gone on a real date and they had even talked about going steady from now on. That was probably enough for Jamia and her twisted desire to know absolutely everything.
Driving through the city was strange. Every time Frank stopped at a light and looked at the people waiting to cross the street, he thought about how most of them had no idea that werewolves were real. They had no idea they could stop for a smoke in an alley and experience a life-changing animal attack.
Frank didn’t know if ignorance was bliss or not. He was happier now that he knew. He was happy to have a boyfriend, even if he was literally a monster sometimes.

Finding a place to park Jamia’s car on her block was all the assurance Frank needed that he was 100% done with New York City and all it’s bullshit. He’d start job hunting on the other side of the river as soon as he had a moment to think. Mikey’s arrangement of working remotely also sounded tempting. He’d have to ask his boss about that as soon as he was back in the office. As soon as he got to Jamia’s apartment, she wanted to know everything. No surprises there. Frank mumbled some excuse about needing to go to bed and promising to tell her everything over drinks some other day.
She wouldn’t accept that, though. Of course she wouldn’t. As soon as she found out that Gerard was still out in the woods somewhere, she practically followed Frank to the subway station.
Gerard wasn’t home, so Frank figured, what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Frank could bring her back to the apartment for one night. As far as he knew there was nothing there that would give Gerard’s secret away. Frank had practically lived there and had no idea what was up.
“So, the sex was good?” Jamia asked once they were on the subway platform.
Even the subway platform was so jarringly loud, it took Frank a few minutes to adjust to the noise coming from the trains and all the other people standing around. People. Fuck. He glanced around to make sure no one had heard her. No one looked particularly interested in their conversation so he looked back towards his friend.
“Um?” Frank faltered.
“That’s why you’re so chill right now, isn’t it?” She noted.
“You’re unbelievable.” Frank said, shaking his head.
“You’re not denying it.” she pointed out.
“Whatever. I’m not high-fiving you...” Frank swore.
He practically jumped when the train came rushing into the platform.
It took all his strength to not laugh when Jamia said,
“What? It’s just a train. It’s won’t bite.”
~

They stopped at the corner store on their way back to the apartment. Frank needed something stronger, really, but the liquor store had closed early since it was Sunday.
“Ok… A mini-mart open past 10?” Jamia asked, “No wonder you like staying at his place so much more than mine.”
Carrying two six packs in black plastic bags, Frank led Jamia to Gerard’s apartment building. He didn’t think they’d end up drinking quite that much, but it was better to get more in case they wanted more. The mini-mart closed at 10:30, after all, though Jamia was still impressed.
He couldn’t imagine Gerard would say ‘no’ if Frank had asked if he could have a friend over, not that Frank had asked, or even had any way of asking. This was fine. He was just having an old friend over for a few beers. Nothing to freak out about. He glanced up at the sky and wondered if Gerard had turned yet. He probably had. He was probably howling away in some basement halfway between Manhattan and the U.S./Canada border.
Jamia seemed curious as they made their way through the empty, echoey lobby, taking the stairs instead of the elevator like he always did when he came home with Gerard. Frank unlocked the locks and shouldered into the silent, dark apartment. He flicked on the lights and went into the kitchen to shove the beer in the fridge. He grabbed one for each of them and led Jamia into Gerard’s living room to sit on the couch.
“Wow, Frankie.” she gasped, “This place is beautiful.”
“It’s alright.” Frank smirked, cracking Jamia’s beer and setting it on a coaster on the coffee table before cracking his own.
“Aren’t you gonna show me around?” she asked.
“Let me put on music first...” Frank insisted, remembering his earlier vow to listen to music once he got to the city.
Frank showed Jamia around the small apartment, not sure what details he was supposed to point out. The wilting flowers Gerard had tried to give him on Valentine’s day, now hanging on the kitchen wall? The bed Gerard liked to pin him to? The couch they laid on at the end of each work day? The kitchen Gerard rarely cooked in?
Jamia lingered in Gerard’s office for a while, asking questions about his art. Some of them Frank could answer, though most, he couldn’t. It made him realize just how much about Gerard he still didn’t know. It was stuff he wanted to know. He almost wanted to write his questions down so that he didn’t forget them.
They settled back on the couch after Jamia was satisfied.
“I always wanted to date an artist.” Jamia admitted, cracking open her third beer, “You’re so lucky.”
“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” Frank argued, “They’re spacey. And weird.”
“Think of the romance, though. You could make them draw on every inch of you.” Jamia mused, “Don’t get me started on paint. ‘Draw me like one of your french girls.’”
Frank looked around for something to throw at her, but came up short. Stupid, tidy Gerard.
“First of all, gross. Second of all, it’s not good for the pens. Especially if they’re felt tip.” Frank blurted.
“You’re no fun.” she protested, “And also a fucking nerd.”
Frank lifted the remote to turn on the TV to look for a movie for them to watch. All the driving had made him tired. No, life was just making him tired. He’d been through a lot for one weekend. He vowed to spend the following weekend on the couch in his underwear to make up for it. He’d also just remembered there was probably still a box of the microwaveable vegan burritos he liked in the freezer and they were about to make excellent drunk food.
“So when are you moving in?” Jamia asked.
“We’ve officially been a couple for 48 hours.” Frank pointed out, voice oozing sarcasm.
“So? You’ve been an unofficial couple forever.” Jamia argued.
“I don’t know, J.” Frank sighed, “We should really probably take things slow.”
“People always say that but they never ever mean it.” Jamia tutted.
“Well if he asked, I guess I wouldn’t say ‘no.’” Frank said.
“So, you’d say ‘yes’ then?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” Frank groaned.
“You’d say ‘yes.’” Jamia offered.
“I’d say ‘yes.’” Frank admitted, “But he’d never ask me, J.”
“Five bucks says he will.” Jamia said.
“Fifteen says he won’t.” Frank scoffed, taking a long swig of his beer.

Notes