We were getting out of the house when I realized I had no car. This was an annoying feeling. Really. And if I had a good memory, I got my first car at 21, not before, so we were going by foot to this store to see this Frank I didn’t remember.

He was supposed to be my crush, and therefore I was supposed to remember him. But I simply didn’t. Not at all. I tried to, perhaps, remember a friend of school, but the only persons I could remember were Ray and Bob. So he wasn’t from my school. I tried to think about the people at the church, the guys at some gigs I would’ve talked to, but nothing. My teenage years were a blur.

“What does he look like?” I asked as we walked down the streets in the exact same manner; hands in our front pockets, our back crooked a little and looking at the ground. It was quite a creepy sight to be honest. I still had to get used to walking next to myself.

He sighed and looked up.
“You really don’t remember him,” he stated, hiding the sadness in his voice.
He sighed another time and continued, “Frank is,” he paused to think, “Frank is that kind of cute little creature you can’t help but love,” he said, a smile growing on his lips. “He’s got wonderful hazel eyes, on a perfect face, you know, the form of face that almost screams at you to sketch it. He’s got a transcendent look that contains so many emotions at the same time, you can never know what he really thinks because it’s just too much and un-decodable. You would lose yourself in it if you tried to, anyway. He’s got a little nose, placed exactly where it has to be to make him look perfect. And his lips are the most tempting thing on the face of the earth. They are so velvet and red and it’s just unbearable to watch them move as he speaks and not being able to taste them or feel them move on you, you know?” He looked at me expectantly, hoping I would eventually remember. I smiled apologetically and he looked back down. “It doesn't remind you of anything, huh.”

“No,” I answered, “but please continue,” I urged him.

He smiled a little before continuing Frank’s description. “Ok, so yeah, the lips. They’re almost devilish; they're calling for me, knowing that their owner wouldn’t be that pleased if I listened to what they ‘told’ me to do. He’s also got some fluffy hair that I just want to touch at least once. It’s so shiny and looks so smooth. When it falls in his eyes, keeping me from looking at their hazel color, it takes my everything to stay still and not to reach out to put that strand of sweet hair out of my view on those beads of his. And his kindness; he’s just so nice, and sweet. He’s quite smart yet so dumb, and weird. He’s just, he's really cool.”

That’s when I realized we were both beaming. I couldn’t even tell why I was grinning like a fool, or understand half of what made me happy about hearing all of this. The sincerity of his words hit me like a lightning bolt. He wasn’t crushing on him; it was way more than that. He was deeply in love. I was in love. I was feeling butterflies in my stomach, when I couldn’t even remember the guy. Was it some kind of feeling transfer or something? I couldn’t remember Frank, but I could remember what I felt for him, that was it. And right now, it felt good to be that happy.

“We’re almost there,” he said. “Frank is short, too, he’s one year younger than me… us…whatever. He is,” he paused as he looked up through the window of a music store, “there,” he finished, nodding toward the window.

I looked up to the store, to see the boy who looked exactly how the young me had described him.
He was short, indeed, and had dark hair falling in his eyes which appeared to be the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. And seriously? I think I just died, went to heaven, thanked God, and resurrected in less than a second. He was holding a vinyl of some random Jersey band, and was desperately trying to put it on the top of the display shelf.

When he saw us observing him, he stopped jumping and I'm sure I saw his cheeks turn a light pink. I smiled slightly and poked Gerard Jr.’s side.

"I think he needs help," I said, and the young me looked up at me, biting the inside of his cheek.

"You're taller than me," he stated. "You will be more helpful."

"But if I put the vinyl up there, you wouldn't have the opportunity to hold him up so he could place it himself." He frowned and I sighed. "Get in there, and hold him up so you can rest your head on his lower back while he puts the vinyl on the shelf," I said.

"Oh," he looked down. "I guess I can, yeah."

He got in the store and I followed him. Frank put the vinyl down and greeted Gerard Jr. with a hug. A friendly-ish hug.

"Hey man," Frank said, letting go of the young me to look at me.

"Oh, yeah, Frank this is Arthur, my uh, art teacher," the young me said as Frank shot him a confused look. He looked back at me and held out his hand for me to shake it.

"Frank, nice to meet you, Arthur," he said shaking my hand, staring in my eyes all along.

I still didn't remember hanging out with him when I was younger, but I would be ok with catching up, please. I obviously couldn't. If I hung out with him and that he ended up loving the thirty year old me, before the nineteen year old me, everything would be pretty fucked up, wouldn't it?

We let go of each other's hand and I tried to turn my gaze to somewhere else in the room.

"Um, Arthur?" Frank asked, forcing me to look back into his eyes. Tempter...
"Would you mind helping me?" he said, pointing at the vinyl. I looked at the young me, who was glaring slightly, then shrugged. I went to take the vinyl but Frank already had it in hands. He smiled as he saw my confused look.

"Come on, hold me up," he said.

I walked toward him and hesitantly placed my hands on his hips. He immediately placed his free hand on one of mine as I held him up.
I pushed away any thoughts of desire, because thinking like this about an eighteen year old boy was inappropriate, right? And considering the look Gerard Jr. was giving me, I should really start keeping my head low. Well not literally right now because if I lowered my head, it would land on Frank's bottom.

Frank finally managed to place the vinyl, after having stroked my hand all along. I put him down as quick as I could muster without actually dropping him.

"Thanks," he said, grinning.

"Anytime," I answered and Gerard Jr. made a shocked face with his mouth in some weird 'O'. I cleared my throat.
"But yeah, like, my back is hurting now. Time doesn't make me grow younger," I added, trying to get the young me stop glaring and close his mouth.

"Aw, come on man, you're what, 23? Younger?" he said before turning and walking to the cashier.
I mean, I can keep myself from flirting, but if he was going to act like this all evening, I wouldn't be able not to flirt back, just a little. What would be wrong anyway? No one should get jealous of each other, eh? Because there's actually only one person with Frank in this room.

But Frank doesn't know that. Why thank you inner voice for keeping me from having a little fun.

"Yeah, I'm thirty actually, but thanks," I said, without sounding rude, but not friendly enough to make him want to keep on flirting. Maybe.

"Beautiful lie," he said and winked, then looked over at the young me and smirked. Was there anything to smirk at? I looked at Gerard Jr.'s face and he just looked pissed. Nothing to smirk at.

"You alright, Gee?" Frank asked not looking up from the papers on the cash desk and he nodded, although he knew Frank wasn't looking at him. When he looked up, he smirked again.
" 'm'going out for a smoke," he said and went outside, brushing my back with his hand in the process. And of course the young me saw it; he's not missing any single detail.

Once Frank was totally outside and the door was firmly closed, Gerard Jr. looked at me with a glare that I knew too well. My fucking killer glare. The glare I had kind of increased the power of – trust me, you'd never seen a glare more glareful than mine. And he was using it on me? Fair game.

“What,” I said not so much in a questioning tone, and not looking at him anymore.

“Stop flirting with him,” he snapped, almost threateningly.
I turned to look back at him then, and leant down a little. I didn’t say anything; I just glared back, waiting for him to quit the attitude he was having with me. He let out an annoyed whimper and stopped glaring. To say that I was satisfied was an understatement. I smiled to myself and stood up straight again.

“I would stop flirting with him, if I was the one flirting in the first place,” I mumbled.

“Well you’re not forced to flirt back, are you?” he asked. “Like, man, I can’t even bear seeing him flirt with someone other than me, and you’re just… there… flirting back like I wasn’t in the room, watching you!” he finished, and ok, I couldn’t help but laugh because, well because it was funny to me.

“Ok! Ok, I won’t flirt back anymore, but um, hello,” I said. “You do realize you’re getting jealous of yourself, don’t you? It’s kind of like there’s only one person with Frank in this room, so…”

“Yes but Frank doesn’t know that!” he exclaimed.

“I don’t know what?” Frank said, re-entering the store.

“Um, you don’t know that um, Gerard, what does Frank not know about?” I said, being too obvious for Frank not to notice that we were hiding something.

“Uh, you don’t know that I will know tomorrow if I’m accepted at the New York Academy of Art,” he answered.

“You entered for it? Whoa man that’s cool, hope they’ll accept you!” Frank exclaimed before finally totally getting in the store.
He went back behind the cashier desk, brushing, ok, maybe squeezing a little, my low back in the process. Did I shiver? Hell yeah, I did. Did my young self see it? Considering the death glare that was on his face, I suppose he did. Frank smirked at me and leant on the desk, staring at my young self, then at me.

“Arthur?” I looked up at Frank. “Excuse me but, this question seems like it can't leave my mind, are you a screamer or a moaner-”

“- that’s it we’re leaving,” the young me said, grabbing my arms and dragging me outside the store.

“I’ll call you guys on Saturday if I need help at the store, if that’s alright?” Frank called after us. Neither of us answered.

We got out the store; the cold Jersey atmosphere hit my skin as I blew a hot steamy breath in the fresh air. It had become pretty cold since we left home, and it was a lot darker, too. Sigh, autumn.

"What the fuck?" my young self said as we started our way home.

“Well it was kind of funny. I see why you like him. I like how he goes straight to what he wants to know,” I joked, although I knew how upset my young self was.

"Man, Frank's like, madly into you!" he exclaimed.

"At least you know he's gay now," I stated. He looked up at me and shook his head, signaling the end of the conversation.

“Look, I’m sorry, I should have invented a lie to get out of the store and leave you both together, or I should have acted rude or something. But I shouldn’t have played his game, knowing you would hurt. I promise it won’t happen again. I won’t- I won’t let him talk to me like that again, no matter how bitchy I’ve got to be for him to drop the flirty attitude,” I said.
He just sighed, remaining silent after that. Fuck.

We were almost home, when he finally spoke again. "You need to get him to love me," he said.

"He already does somehow," I said.

"Maybe but he doesn't know that. I don't think he knows I'm you, yet."

"Yet? Hey, there's no yet. He can't know about it. That’s the reason we created me a cover up, remember?" I said.
Mikey opened the door before we even had the time to reach the alley.

"Guys! Guuuyyyys! There's a horror-movies marathon tonight," he said, beaming like mad. "I think we should totally watch it. You like horror movies Old Gerard? Well duh, of course, you're Gerard so you like them, right? This is the most confusing thing I've ever lived and why are you two wearing those hideous sad mad weird faces?"

"He stole my Frank." the young me muttered.

"First, Frank's never been yours yet Gerard. Second, that's the worst thing you could've ever done Old Gerard. Third, you're the fucking same you idiots," Mikey said and it was like whoa, thank you, Sherlock.

“Yeah, Mikey, I don’t think it was a cool thing to remind me Frank didn’t want me,” my young self said.

“I said yet, bitch,” Mikey said in a monotonous way.

“Yeah whatever,” the young me said before walking past Mikey into the house.

“Dinner’s ready, guys,” I heard my mother say.
Both Mikey and I walked in the house to the living room where my young self already was. We all sat as and my mouth started to water at the sight of the home made lasagna. I hadn’t eaten those in so long that I think I could die from ecstasy with just one bite.

“So tell me Arthur, if you don’t mind me asking, of course, but why did your lover push you out of the house?” she asked.

“Um, no I don’t mind, uh,” I looked at Mikey who was staring at me with wide eyes, as if he thought I couldn’t make up a good lie. Ok maybe I wasn’t that good at it, but I could surely invent a little thing that would be easy to believe.

“I, uh, she found some of my old high school pictures, including the ones of the prom, and in one of them, I was kissing a boy outside. To her, the only reason that could explain why I kept the picture was because I 'was in love with the guy and therefore was gay’ and um, Eliza isn’t that much into gay people, if you get the idea,” I said and whoa, did I really invent that?

“She’s homophobic?” Mikey exclaimed, playing along.

“Yeah, you could say it like that,” I answered, bringing my fork, full of lasagna, to my mouth.

“Oh dear, some people are so closed-minded. I pity them for not being able to open their eyes and see the beauty in love, no matter who’s sharing it. Good lord, help them accept that there’s no such thing as inferiority no matter if it concerns the color of the skin, or the way somebody swings,” she said.

Hi, mom, I love you.

I shot a look at Gerard Jr. I knew that, back when I was nineteen, I hadn’t come out to my mother yet because I didn’t know what she thought about gay people. So with this I hoped he would. The young me shook his head at me, and I insisted by slightly furrowing my brows. He sighed and shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“Hey um, mom?” he said. “How… how would you react if I had a crush on a boy, and uh, couldn’t get it up when it came to girls?” Oh here you go… I literally slapped my face because there were so many other ways to come out to your parents, and he had to actually pick the weirdest.

“It was about time you told me, Gerard. Don’t think I never go downstairs in your basement to do some cleaning, or to get back my straightener and my eyeliner. I knew you liked boys, Gerard. I mean, what kind of heterosexual men straighten their hair and wear eyeliner? I guessed it the minute after you came home with the skinniest pair of skinny jeans I had ever laid eyes on. And that magazine you had-”

“- yes ok mom, I get it, you knew. No need to spread out every little thing that made you guess it in front of everyone, thank you,” my young self said, cutting her off.

“It’s not like I didn’t know,” I said and then everyone looked at me, and oh. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. “I mean, I pretty much guess what helped you figure him out.” That was close, oh God.

“Ah, I assume you got that he swung that way the second after you two met?” she asked me.

“Uh, yeah, sort of,” I nodded, and brought another fork full of lasagna to my mouth.
The conversation ended then, the silence only broken by the sounds of our forks against the plates and the occasional munching noise Mikey made.

“I like both genders,” Mikey blurted out of fucking nowhere, and this, I had never known. I started choking on the bit of lasagna that I had just swallowed.

“Are you ok, Arthur?” my mother asked.
I nodded, gulping down my glass of water to ease my cough. Mikey had never told me, never ever given me any hints. And as far as I knew, he had never had a boyfriend. I looked at my young self, and he was looking at Mikey with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open.

“What? Why is it so easy for Gerard to come out of the gay closet, but when I come out of the bi closet, everyone seems to make such a big deal out of it?”

“I didn’t say anything about it Mikey, you know I’ll love you no matter what,” she said.

“Yeah but those two muppets are staring at me like I was growing a head on my armpit,” he said.
I chuckled slightly and looked at my young self who was now smiling and shoving lasagna in his mouth. Though, I had already finished it. I started fiddling with the tablecloth, until the young me poked my side. I looked at him and he leant in to whisper in my ear.

“Do you want to get downstairs?” he whispered, and it was like, why are you whispering in my ear?

“Uh, yeah?” I said.

“Join us when you’re done, Mikey,” the young me said.
We got downstairs, and he went to the little bathroom in the basement, locking the door behind him. I sat awkwardly on what used to be my bed and started thinking. My thoughts went from the fact I didn’t remember Frank at all, to Mikey being bi. Gerard Jr. soon interrupted my thoughts by throwing himself on the bed. He lay beside me and put a hand on my shoulder, pulling me down.

“Relax,” he said. “Just lie down a little. I’m sorry I reacted the way I did at the store. I just, I really like Frank, you know, a whole damn lot, and do you believe in vampires?”

“What?” I asked.

“I said, do you believe in vampires,” he babbled.

“- No, I heard, but you were talking about Frank and then you ask me if I like vampires?”

“I’m sure they exist,” he stated with a sigh. “I will be one of them someday.”

“Gerard, look at me,” I said firmly, sitting up. He lazily turned his head and looked at me in the eyes. His pupils were dilated, and his blood vessels were showing up all around his iris. I sighed. “What did you take?” I asked.

“Don’t know, just sniffed a random thing I found in the bathroom,” he mumbled. I lay back down, with yet another sigh. He placed his head on my shoulder, and nudged his nose in my neck.

“What… what are you doing?” I asked.

“You smell good,” he replied, taking in the scent of… himself?

“Ok…” I let him sniff my neck until I felt my skin being pulled by his teeth and a wave of shivers running through my body.

“Gerard, what the fuck?” I asked, pushing his face away.
Ok, yeah, he was high, therefore unconscious, and he must’ve been sexually frustrated, so I could almost understand his moves. But why was that making me shiver? I was not the least turned on by this. It would have been insane, and oh so self-centered.

He aligned his face with mine, ghosting his lips over mine. Was he really not realizing he was trying to kiss himself? I couldn’t move though; I found myself frozen.
He licked his lips, intentionally touching mine with his tongue and whoa, I think I was sexually frustrated too. He leant in and kissed me, and ok, I let him. I even responded a little. But when he moaned and tried to slip his tongue inside my mouth, while slowly dry humping my side, I just couldn’t anymore. Like, me kissing myself and doing sexual things, no. I pulled away brutally, pushing him away in the process. He was panting, palming his hardening crotch through the fabric of his jeans.

“You’re a good kisser,” he breathed. I was about to punch his face when I heard Mikey come down the stairs.

“Ready for the horror movies marathon?” Mikey asked, and I heard my young self snoring behind me. Mikey looked at the young me and then back at me. “Guess it’ll be just you and me then,” he said, winking playfully.
Please, don’t kiss me as well.

Notes

HEEEEEEYYYY! Sorry I took so long, I have no real excuse for being that slow. Just forgive me ok? No? Fine :c

A huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuge thank you to Join the Masquerade for beta-ing me, and facing the horrible monsters that are the mistakes I make.
-uses the simple excuse of being french-

It's shorter than I wanted it to be, but I hope you will be satisfied with it?

Aaaaaaand, sorry for the Gerard/Gerard scene. I just couldn't help myself. I couln't not do it.
Sorry sorry sorry.