F*ck and Run

When Gerard got home from his ‘date’ with Frank he felt like absolute shit.
He wasn’t sure if it was because Frank had more-or-less called him a slut or if it was just because Frank had been so upset and it had been entirely Gerard’s fault. Whatever the reason he didn’t sleep very well that night.
Or the night after that.
Or the night after that.

When Gerard went out looking to hook up a few nights later, he found his game was completely thrown off. He couldn’t stand the thought of a repeat of how things had gone with Frank so he took extra care in retaining certain information about the guys he tried to pick up.
All he had to go by were the things he wished he’d remembered about Frank. It came as no surprise to Gerard that gathering details on a person he was trying to fuck, based on the details of a person he had already fucked completely ruined it for him. He just wasn’t used to inserting those dry, getting-to-know-you-type questions in his usual pickup routines. The first guy he tried to hit on actually grimaced at how badly Gerard had tripped over his words.
Gerard found he had opened some sort of floodgate he wanted to slam shut when the next guy took Gerard’s questions as an invitation to drunkenly slur out his whole fucking life story.
Gerard went home alone thinking about Frank and proceeded to toss and sleep very poorly. When he wasn’t tossing and turning his mind was invaded by horrific nightmares. He would jolt awake, unable to remember what had scared him.

He tried calling Frank after a few days when he still wasn’t picking anyone up or sleeping right.
Of course, Frank wouldn’t answer his calls.
He didn’t bother to leave any voicemails. There was no apology that would fit in the short recording time Frank’s voice mailbox constricted him to.

Mikey wasn’t actually all that upset about what had happened on Gerard’s ‘date’ with Frank. However, he had implied it was only further proof that what Gerard needed was someone he could be serious about. And, of course, Gerard still ‘owed’ Mikey for that time he had made the younger sibling pretend to be his boyfriend to get himself out of an awkward situation.

It was getting close to the moon when Mikey decided on a way that Gerard could repay his brother. He insisted that Gerard absolutely must attend some stupid fucking event hosted by his work at some lame hipster bar in SoHo.
Gerard had no interest in going under normal circumstances. He was even less interested in going when he realized Frank would probably be there.
To make matters worse he was practically crawling out of his skin by the time he got home from work and changed into something acceptable for a cocktail hour. His mood swings were driving him crazy. He wanted to stay home and alternate between eating bloody steaks, jacking off and crying in the shower.
“dont be a baby. you better get here. now.” Mikey had texted him when he tried to back out.
The worst of the cycle wouldn’t start for another couple of days and, unfortunately, Mikey was well aware of that. Even so, Gerard swore it felt like his skin would rip apart and the beast inside of him would be set free to attack his brother’s coworkers in the middle of their cocktail hour. He felt so deranged he almost wanted to make a bet on how long it would take him to do something hostile and embarrassing. His skin burned all over and the collar of his black button-down felt itchy and impossibly tight. He practically ripped off the tie he’d neatly tied around his neck and fumbled to open the top few buttons on his shirt. The creature inside of him yearned to rip off the rest of his constricting garments and run free through through the wild. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, trying to gain control of the urges commanding him to wreak havoc...
About 5 seconds later he ripped the shirt off as quickly as he could, sighing with relief as his skin made contact with the cool air in his apartment.
His gaze darted around the room until his eyes fell on a crumpled up white shirt on the edge of his bed. He pulled the slightly stained Smiths t-shirt over his shoulders, relishing in the comfort of the soft, worn cotton. It smelled familiar, like cigarettes, maybe laundry detergent and his own musk.
He whispered to himself to just keep it together.
To not do anything too stupid in front of Mikey’s work friends. In front of Frank.
Shit. Frank.
He took one last glance in the mirror, shrugged into a thick, wool sweater and slipped out the door.
~

By the time Gerard got off the subway, wandered around the neighborhood for 20 minutes in search of the right address, and finally found the right block, Mikey was waiting for him outside, passing the time by smoking cigarette after cigarette.
“Look what the cat dragged in.” Mikey mumbled, dropping his cigarette to the sidewalk and crushing it under his boot.
“Hey M.” Gerard said warmly, trying to not let his crazed, monstrous feelings show too much in his face. “Sorry it took so long. I mixed up East and West again. That train station’s so confusing...I got turned around and-”
“Idiot.” Mikey shot back fondly. “Shall we?” He turned on his heel and pulled open the door behind him. Gerard followed his younger brother down a hallway towards an elevator.
“So…” Mikey sighed, pressing the ‘up’ button to call an elevator car. “Frank’s here. He said it’s okay that you’re here though.”
“That’s… good?” Gerard commented uncertainly.
“Yeah. He said he’s not mad at you anymore.”
The hopefulness that washed over Gerard must’ve shown in his face.
“...But he still doesn’t want to talk to you. Also, he said not to call him again.” Mikey added with a smirk.
“Oh.” Gerard frowned. “Okay. I’ll uh- stay on the other side of the room then.”
“No. Don’t make it like, a thing, Gerard” Mikey insisted. The elevator doors slid open. “He’s just… not interested? I guess that’s the polite way of putting it…”
The brothers stepped into the elevator car. Gerard swallowed hard, feeling awkward and wondering if he should’ve worn the black shirt he’d started out with. He tugged at his sweater, fastening the 2 buttons in the middle of the garment.
“Don’t worry about it. He promised he won’t make a big deal out of it if you won’t. There’s someone else I want you to meet anyways.”
“Mikey,” Gerard groaned. “No more matchmaking. You really suck at it.” He tousled his hair to give it some more volume.
“You just suck at love.” Mikey chuckled. “That’s not my fault.”
Gerard had no counterargument to that. He realized, a moment too late, that Mikey had actually talked to Frank about Gerard. He opened his mouth to ask what Frank had specifically said about him when the elevator doors slid open to a noisy bar on the 5th floor.
Gerard couldn’t bring himself to step out of the car. The scents of the people standing around and talking were wafting straight into Gerard’s nostrils. The information overload was completely nauseating. The predator inside him cataloged the varieties of perfume and alcohol stewing in the atmosphere. He felt like he was going to be sick.
“Come on. It’ll be fun. We don’t have to stay long.” Mikey assured his brother, briefly putting a hand on his lower back to steer him out of the elevator car.
“I don’t like this. Not one bit.” Gerard gritted out, swallowing his nausea.
“I’m gonna say ‘hi’ to everyone and see if I can find that guy I wanted to introduce you to.” Mikey said against Gerard’s ear. He shot his brother a look that said “don’t even fucking try to leave.” before disappearing into the crowd.

Gerard walked towards the bar in an almost-straight line, weaving around a few groups of people. He kept his eyes on the floor, making a point not to look above anyone’s shoes. He didn’t want to see Frank again. Only, he hadn’t realized how much he didn’t want to see Frank again until they were in the same room. He wondered what kind of shoes Frank would wear as he glanced at a scuffed pair of doc martens… vans probably, if Gerard had to guess.
He slid onto a stool at the far end of the bar and ordered a beer. He stared at the bubbles floating upwards in the brown liquid as the time dragged on. A heavy, dramatic sigh escaped his lips every time he checked the time on his phone, blinking in disbelief when he realized he had only been there for 25 minutes. He took a sip of his beer experimentally and grimaced. The brew was way too bitter and dark for his liking… it was also going flat.
“Would you like something else?” The bartender asked, eyeing the way Gerard was swirling his finger around in the foam floating on top of his beer. “Something lighter, perhaps?”
Gerard glanced up at the bartender guiltily.
“Could I get something stronger actually?” Gerard offered vacantly, staring at the guy’s mess of flat, black hair covering half his face. He had a rim of shiny, dark blue eye shadow around the eye Gerard could see.
“Sure, sure. What would you like?” The guy asked politely.
“Whiskey ‘n coke… more whiskey than coke, if you can.” Gerard sighed.
The guy nodded and fixed Gerard’s drink. He winked at Gerard as he left the bottle of whiskey upturned over the glass of ice for longer than 3 seconds. Much more than a shot. He topped the whiskey off with a few spurts of cola before sliding the drink across the counter towards Gerard.
“So… it’s none of my business but… any reason you’re sulking in the corner and getting wasted at such an exciting record release party?”
“This guy I sort of like….” Gerard started. He shook his head. “Well no… it’s more like, this place just isn’t really my scene… that’s all. My brother dragged me out.”
“A guy you like, huh?” The bartender asked, leaning over the counter towards Gerard with interest on his face. Gerard caught a whiff of his scent. The cologne, his musk and spilled liquor was a cocktail all on it’s own.
“Yeah… he’s actually here somewhere I think. I tried not to look,” Gerard shrugged, taking a gulp of his drink. “I really fucked things up.” He was absolutely sickened by his own honesty.
The guy glanced around the room, making a thoughtful humming sound.
“What’s he look like?” The guy asked, looking back at Gerard.
“Black hair, some of it’s bleached, I think. He might’ve changed it. Lip ring? Tattoos?” Gerard said, drumming his fingers on the counter. “I think he kinda stands out but I’m biased…”
“I think I see him actually.” The bartender said after glancing up again. “Is he kinda… short?”
“Yeah. He’s on the shorter side.”
“Play it cool, don’t look but… he’s totally looking over here right now…” The bartender said, smirking. His eyes darted between Gerard’s face and somewhere off to Gerard’s left.
“Oh my god. Really?” Gerard groaned dejectedly. “Does he look mad?”
“He doesn’t look mad?” The Bartender asked, as a sort of pondering to himself. “It’s kind of hard to tell in this light. He’s frowning a little but that doesn’t mean he’s mad. Does he have a reason to be mad?” The bartender lifted his eyebrow curiously.
“Yeah. I think he’s perfectly allowed to be mad at me.” Gerard offered thoughtfully, slugging on his drink.
“...Y’know, you’re way cuter than him… I think you can totally do better.” The bartender nodded. He glanced down at his watch. “In fact, my shift ends in like, 20 minutes… mind if I join you for a few drinks when I’m off?”
Gerard bit his lip in thought… the bartender wasn’t bad looking and he’d sort of just said Gerard was cute so he figured he might as well say yes. It normally wasn’t so easy. Gerard didn’t even have to try. The bartender had come on to him.
“Sure. Why not?” Gerard shrugged.
“Cool. You can tell me all about uh… shorty over there.”
“I don’t wanna talk about him anymore.” Gerard frowned, taking another sip of his drink. “He’s really starting to bum me out.”
“Fine, well… I could help you forget he’s even here, if that’s what you want.”
Gerard caught a glimpse of a playful smirk on the guy’s face.
“Sounds good to me.” Gerard grinned.
“Try not to have too much fun without me.” The guy flirted. “I’m Ryan by the way.” He held out his hand. Gerard reached out and took the guy’s hand in his.
“Gerard.” He replied.
“Cool uh… see you in a few, Gerard.” he nodded, turning on his heel to help a couple a few stools down.
Gerard watched the way the guy put his hands on his hips and sort of bounced on his heels when he was chatting with the other customers at the bar. He was a peppy dude. His white work shirt and black trousers left a lot to the imagination.
It took every iota of Gerard’s willpower to not turn and look in the direction Ryan had glanced. He wanted to know what Frank was wearing. Wanted to know if he looked pissed off. Wanted to know if he’d changed his hair at all. If he was drinking. What he was drinking. Who he was talking to. If who he was talking to was cuter than Gerard.
Gerard took another gulp of his drink to try and slow the racing thoughts brought on by the monstrous creature clawing its way to the forefront of his brain.
~

Ryan slid onto the bar stool beside Gerard with a drink in his hand. He had changed into garments that were all-black and impossibly tight, leaving very little to the imagination. It was a sharp contrast to his previous attire.
“Oh man.” Gerard said, giving the guy the once-over. “How come they don’t let you wear that on the clock? You’d rake in the fucking tips, dude.”
“I... think that was a compliment?” The Ryan giggled, brushing his hair to the side and playfully grimacing. “I’ll take it.”
Their conversation went much like that. Ryan ordered them another round of drinks and they talked and flirted easily. No matter how pretty Ryan was Gerard couldn’t forget about Frank, but the alcohol did a nice job of dulling his senses, helping him to forget how close to the moon it was.
Gerard started to wonder where Mikey had gotten off to. It had been awhile since he had seen his brother. The volume of the voices in the room had increased quite a bit. Gerard wasn’t sure if Mikey’s coworkers were louder when you fed them booze or if more people had arrived after him.
Gerard glanced down to Ryan’s fingers, which were busy stroking over the back of his hand. The sensation brought back the predatory urges. A simple touch and Gerard was reduced to nothing more than an animal running on instinct. He was sure they could go back to Ryan’s place. All he had to do was say the words.
He didn’t want to leave without consulting Mikey. Ryan wasn’t one of Mikey’s coworkers and he was clearly only interested in sex. There was no danger in a repeat of the incident with Frank. Mikey would still have something to say about it though. Gerard was sure of it.
He smiled at Ryan and it took him a moment to realize that he wasn’t really listening to what the guy was saying anymore. He had been telling Gerard about this serial killer he had once spoken to in a convenience store before he had been convicted. That was the last thing Gerard remembered before his brain had floated off to Mikey ...and then to Frank.
Was Frank still there or had he left when he saw Gerard flirting with the bartender? Did Frank even care what Gerard did?
“Ryan, uh, excuse me a moment.” he mumbled, sliding off the barstool. “All this liquid I uh- bathroom.”
Ryan smiled and nodded at him, tipping his drink up against his lips.

Gerard waded through Mikey’s coworkers towards where he thought he’d seen a sign for the men’s room. He considered their bodies like a wolf charging through a herd of sheep. He gave up on keeping his eyes on the ground when he bumped into a lady. Her drink sloshed onto his shoe.He apologized and dashed into the bathroom.
After relieving himself, he stared at himself in the mirror. He looked as crazy as he felt. The pull of the moon was pulling him apart. He splashed cold water over his face but it did nothing to still the vibrations in his bones.
He needed to get the fuck out of this bar.
With or without Ryan.

Gerard meandered through the warm bodies, booze coursing through their flesh and churning out in the sweat oozing from their pores.
To Gerard’s immediate horror, Ryan was no longer sitting on the barstool beside the one with Gerard’s sweater slung over it. Frank had taken Ryan’s place. He pushed a glass around on the counter, obviously waiting for Gerard to come back.
Gerard pieced it together pretty quick... Frank had said or done something to chase his prospective fuck-buddy away and now he wanted to talk to Gerard. The predator inside him was furious at the loss of potential satiation.
Gerard panicked, wondering briefly if he could just turn and run, abandoning his sweater, but before he could stop himself he was moving forward and sliding onto the seat next to Frank.
“Where did Ryan go?” Gerard asked calmly, staring Frank directly in the eyes. He could feel aggression coursing through his veins.
“Oh. So you remember names now?” Frank asked sarcastically, glaring back. “That’s new.”
“Yeah. I have you to thank for that actually.” Gerard growled. “What the fuck did you do?”
“I was just trying to save him some trouble.” Frank shrugged.
“Trouble?” Gerard asked.
“Yeah. You.” Frank spat.
“Some people enjoy meaningless sex, Frank. Why is that so fucking hard for you to understand?!” Gerard shot back. “I told you I was sorry. I still am. But I thought you weren’t going to make a scene.”
“I’m not making a scene, you are.” Frank countered.
“What do you even want from me?” Gerard hissed, leaning in.
Frank flinched. He smelled incredible. Gerard wasn’t sure if he wanted to fuck him, devour him or destroy him. Either way he knew he had no self control.
He had to get away from Frank… fast.
“You know what just... Fuck you.” Gerard cursed, ripping his sweater off the back of the stool and making a beeline for the exit. There was no way in hell he was gonna wait for the fucking elevator. He shouldered out the door to the stairs and quickly made his way down all 10 flights and out of the building.

Gerard found a set of stairs to sit on a few doors down from the building the party had been in. He lit a cigarette with shaky hands and swallowed a wave of nausea.
The moon was pulling him apart and he was losing his shit.
He inhaled the chilly air as his vision went hazy.
He closed his eyes and focused on his cigarette. He knew it was just the animal inside of him but he wanted to fucking cry. Jacking off and eating steak also sounded really fucking good too. He hung his head between his knees to try and get the world to quit spinning.

Gerard was wondering if he’d gotten the lunar calendar wrong somehow. Maybe the moon was tonight and a lot unsuspecting civilians were about to be ripped apart on streets of Manhattan.
He suddenly got another waft of Frank’s scent.
“Fuck, are you okay?” Frank asked.
Gerard’s head shot up, sending another wave of nausea through him.
“Please just go away. I’m... busy.” Gerard faltered pathetically. He felt too weak to argue. Thanks moodswings.
“You weren’t busy 10 minutes ago when you were talking to Ryan. What changed!?" Frank fumed. "You've already fucked me so you don’t want anything to do with me now? Is that it?”

Gerard couldn’t do this right now.
If Frank wanted a formal apology he’d have to get it after the moon had passed. Gerard couldn’t be alone with Frank. It wasn't safe. He’d do something stupid and impulsive. It was taking everything he had to not just grab him and eat him up. There was no obvious way out of trying to give the sad punk boy some semblance of an explanation so he had to try…

“That’s not how it works, Frank.” Gerard sighed, staring down at his cigarette. “I fucking like you, okay? I told you I was sorry. I tried calling you, even. I’m just… I can’t do this right now. Can we talk about this another night? I’ll take you for coffee again and I won’t fuck it up. I promise. I just…” He faltered, hanging his head.
Frank sat down on the step beside Gerard. Gerard could feel his warmth, could smell him, could practically taste him and it made shivers run up and down his spine. He knew it wasn’t going to end well.
“Dude, are you okay? Did Ryan put something in your drink or something?” Frank asked softly, wrapping an arm around Gerard’s shoulder. “You’re really pale and you’re all shivery.”
“No. You just…” Gerard swallowed hard. “It’s you… You make me so fucking crazy. I can’t keep myself off of you.”
“Then don’t.” Frank said plainly, like they weren’t talking about their mess of a situation. “But I’m serious. You look sick, dude. Let me take you home.”
“Frank, I… you can’t handle me.” Gerard mumbled. I can’t fucking handle myself.
“I think I remember handling you just fine before.” Frank challenged, raising an eyebrow. Their faces were so close, Gerard felt like his bones would just shake apart if they didn’t…
Frank leaned in and pressed his lips against Gerard’s. Hard.
Gerard dropped his cigarette and reached for Frank’s face to pull him closer. Frank’s hot breath flooded Gerard’s mouth, feeding the nightmare curled up inside of him. Frank wrapped his arms around Gerard’s neck. They kissed hungrily, awkwardly trying to get closer on the cold, uncomfortable concrete step.
Gerard didn't care. He was ready to just fucking rub one out against Frank’s thigh right there in the middle of the street.
“Please,” Frank sighed against Gerard’s lips, “let me take you home.”
Gerard was too far gone to protest.
Frank pulled him off the steps and into the street, raising his hand to flag down a cab. His other hand was clasped tightly in Gerard’s. Their fingers laced together. Frank stroked his thumb over the back of Gerard’s hand.
Once inside a cab, Frank gave Gerard about 10 seconds to give the cabbie directions before he brought his hand up to Gerard’s jaw to turn his face and kiss him hard. Their lips crushed together hungrily. Gerard wasn’t even in control of his own body anymore. He gave in and set the animal inside of him free to do exactly what it wanted.
Frank kissed Gerard back so hungrily and so desperately, tangling his hands in Gerard’s hair and pulling him closer, he almost couldn’t believe it was really happening. Not after the shit Frank had said about him. He’d told Mikey he wasn’t interested. That Gerard shouldn’t call. Yet there he was, shoving his tongue down Gerard’s throat in the back of a cab.
Gerard realized somewhere in the back of his mind that he’d given the driver directions to his own apartment.

He never brought anyone back to his apartment.

Before Gerard could freak out about it, Frank slid his hand up Gerard’s thigh and over his hard-on. He gasped into Frank’s mouth in relief as Frank squeezed his cock. He’d been dying for physical contact for days. It felt so good he wanted to cry.
Gerard’s fingers fumbled with the zipper on Frank’s hoodie. Frank reached for Gerard’s hand to still him when he’d gotten the zipper about halfway down.
“Let’s keep it… PG-13 until we ...get back to your place, ...yeah?” Frank whispered in between sloppy kisses.
“Touching my cock ...isn’t …PG-13.” Gerard gasped. “What the fuck kind of ...PG-13 movies you been watching?”
Frank chuckled against Gerard’s lips.
He stopped kissing Gerard and buried his face in Gerard’s chest, inhaling deeply. Gerard hugged Frank tightly, breathing in the scent of his hair. The close contact, though leaning towards PG rather than NC-17, was enough for the monster inside Gerard somehow.
He didn’t want to read into it too much, though he was certain of one thing:

Frank was turning out to be more trouble than Gerard.

Notes

sooooooooooo nice long chapter for you. ; )
this is wildly un-beta'd. let me know if there's any profound errors in spelling/grammar that aren't intentionally there for poetic purposes.

TGIF
(thank god it's frerard)