Just Sleep

Frank is still basking in happiness when he drags himself away from his boyfriend's shining eyes and loving arms. With a shy little wave, he walks backwards up the garden path towards his front door and watches Gerard drive away until the car purrs completely out of sight into the darkness. Sighing softly, he hugs himself on the shadowy porch and tries to shake off the creeping loneliness already tainting the misty night around him. It's okay, he tells himself wearily, Everything's going to be fine. Stop worrying all the time. Just stop!

Trying to smooth his fluffy hair into a less obviously just-been-fucked style, he finds his keys and sneaks quietly into the house hoping Linda is already asleep. Unfortunately the second he shuts the door behind him her stern voice immediately rings out of the kitchen. “Frank! Come here please.”
Groaning under his breath, Frank kicks off his shoes and slinks towards the brightly-lit room, his buzz from earlier already fading . “What?” he asks moodily, walking in to find his mom sitting at the kitchen table in her dressing gown with a cup of tea in front of her. She frowns at his sulky tone and gets to her feet, folding her arms tensely in the stark fluorescent light. “Don't you 'what' me. It's after eleven Frank and I had no idea where you were tonight. When I tried to call you, your phone was off. I was worried.”
“Well here I am,” Frank sighs, trying to sound jokey but there’s too much frustration in his voice and all he wants to do is go to bed and text Gerard goodnight. “You don’t have to worry so much mom, honest, I'm eighteen now not fucking twelve.”
“Watch your language,” Linda snaps, “And I think after the other night I have every right to be worried about you.”

Frank's resentment dies a little as memories of crying and puking on the bathroom floor wash over him and shame prickles the back of his neck. Shaking his head, he shuts his eyes for a moment, willing the bad thoughts away, and when he opens them again Linda is standing right in front of him, so close it makes him flinch. She looks sad and disappointed and he feels inexplicably guilty, wishing he could make her understand how nice his night was before he had to come back here to her questions and suspicions. “Where were you?” she asks in a low voice, “Were you at Ray's house? Or Dylan's?”
“No,” he admits wearily, fidgeting under her accusing stare as it pins him to the wall. Leaning over him, she loudly sniffs the air and wrinkles her nose as if she can smell the sex and cigarettes clinging to his clothes. “Were you with Gerard Way?” she demands.
“So what if I was?” Frank growls, his irritation growing as he looks defiantly into her face, their green and brown eyes boring into each other, “We had fun mom and I'm home now, although with you interrogating me I kinda wish I wasn't, so please get off my fucking back!” He's shouting now, angry as hell, and with a hiss of outrage Linda moves her hand and slaps him hard across the face.

They both gasp, Frank's hand cupping his stinging cheek as shock and panic flood his eyes, and she wants to apologise – she's never hit him before, not ever - but instead she hears herself yelling “I don't want you seeing that man again, do you understand? He's no good for you!”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Frank cries, rubbing his face, “You don't even know him!”
“I know more than you think!” Linda retorts. She can smell the vile smoke and spunk on her son's clothes and the stench only fuels her anger and fear. “He makes you miserable, Frankie. He makes you drink and cut and cry!”
“No he doesn't!” Frank yells, stunned tears swamping his pained eyes which doesn't help his argument at all, “He didn't make me do that mom, you don't understand.”
“You mean he didn't make you do it TODAY.” Linda snaps sarcastically, “But the other night you had the worst panic attack I've ever seen and I know it was his fault.”
“But h-he didn’t do that to me,” Frank insists, “I did. It was my fault!”
“No it wasn't sweetie,” Linda gasps, “Is that what he made you think? Did he tell you it was your fault?”
“Ohmygod, NO! Stop talking about him like he's some kind of predator, it's disgusting,” Frank screams, his voice raw with rage and hurt, “He's not like that, mom! He loves me!”

Linda closes her eyes for a moment and counts to ten, her hands making fists inside her dressing gown pockets, “No he doesn't baby,” she finally mutters, “And as long as you live under my roof, you will not see that man again. I forbid it!”

Shocked and scared, Frank stares at her with wide eyes and tries to reply, to plead his case, but his throat feels like it's closing up and his eyes are burning with tears so he turns and runs instead, fleeing upstairs to his bedroom and slamming the door as hard as he can. She can't do this to him! She can't do this, it's not fair! It's not right! Shaking with emotion, he rips off his jacket and balls it up with trembling hands, throwing it like a missile at the wall before collapsing on the bed as the tears finally come, scratching his throat and soaking his skin. He only just got Gerard back and now his mom is trying to take him away forever. Why? Why is she ruining the only thing in his pitiful miserable life that makes him happy?! Clearly he needs to show her that she can't split them up, that he'll fight her every step of the way. She can't get away with this! SHE CAN'T FUCKING DO THIS TO HIM!

**
A long night of unsettled sleep turns into steamy summer dawn and Frank wakes up groggy and puffy-eyed to the sound of his alarm clock screeching and someone knocking on his bedroom door. “Go away,” he groans, punching the clock into silence and covering his head with a blanket, “Leave me alone!”

Out in the hall Linda stops knocking and bites her lip nervously, forcing a fake happy tone into her voice. “Come on, Frank, I'm going to drive you to school today.”
“No way. I'm done with that shit.”
“But you have to return your text books and empty your locker, honey, and don't you want to see your friends before Graduation and, I don't know, get your yearbook signed?”
“I don't have any school friends!” Frank snaps, his head pounding with the effort of arguing with her yet again, “I fucking hated school mom, and I'm never going back there. Fuck Graduation, they can do it without me!”
Wincing at his filthy language, Linda turns away from the door defeated and checks the rubber watch pinned to her nursing scrubs. If she doesn't leave soon she'll be late for work.
“You'll miss high school when you're older,” she sighs. Her son doesn't answer.

Making her way downstairs, Linda grabs her purse and makes sure Frank's journal is tucked safely inside. She'll have to find another opportunity to sneak it back into his room later but in the meantime what can she do to cheer him up and make him see that he'll be better off without Gerard Way in his life? With a hopeful smile she finds a pen and leaves a note for her son on fridge for him to read when he gets up:
I'll be home at 5 today.
Be ready to go out
because I told Granny Lillian
we'd stop by and visit her.
She misses us.
Love Mom
x

Frank adores his grandmother. Surely he'll come out of his room and act nicely for her sake and then maybe the wise old woman can talk some real sense into him.
With time getting on, Linda is almost out the door when she notices a shiny white object lying in a corner near the foot of the stairs: Frank’s cell phone. He must have dropped it last night when he ran to his room. With a guilty glance at the ceiling, she crouches down and picks it up, pressing the power button and watching the device light up in her hand. The lock screen is a picture of a white Les Paul guitar with a number code pad over the top and, without expecting anything to happen, she presses 1-2-3-4. To her surprise, the phone unlocks. Well clearly she needs to teach Frank a little more about personal security. The home screen is flashing with two text message alerts and a missed call from Gerard Way, and the background picture is an image of two men's hands entwined on what looks like a car seat. The slightly smaller hand is clearly Frank's and the other no doubt belongs to the man who's been trying to contact her son all morning. Gritting her teeth, Linda turns the phone off and stuffs it into her purse. If she can stop her lovesick son communicating with Mr Way for even a few hours then it will be one small victory on the road to separating them for good.

**
All morning Gerard keeps checking his phone for messages from Frank but when he doesn’t get any by lunchtime he tries to shrug it off, thinking his boyfriend must be busy with school. When four o'clock rolls around however and Frank still hasn't called or texted back, Gerard grows a little more anxious. What if he came on too strong last night in the car or said something wrong? Frank seemed happy enough but they’ve been moving so fast in this rekindled relationship and maybe the teenager is having second thoughts or even running scared? That's the last thing Gerard wants.

Ray has taken the car to work with him so Gerard decides to walk the mile or so across town to Frank's neighbourhood, clutching his phone the whole way just in case it rings or vibrates with a communication from his beloved but of course it doesn't. With the hot sun beating down on his head, he nervously swats at the flies and fuzzy bumblebees drifting through the warm air of the Iero's front yard and walks slowly up to the house. Frank's mom's car isn't in the driveway which is a relief. He wouldn't even dare to approach the front door if she was home.

He knocks three times with his heart in his throat but there's no answer, only silence from the old house. Frank's bedroom window is slid open a little, the curtains waving faintly in the summer breeze, and Gerard almost calls out his boyfriend's name but there’s an old man watering plants in the garden next door and he feels too self-conscious to start shouting. He's almost ready to give up and leave when the door suddenly swings open and a bubbling ball of Frank rockets into his arms, wrapping his legs around Gerard's waist and forcing the older man to catch him in a cuddle. “Hey!” the teenager laughs happily, hugging Gerard's neck and kissing him wetly on the lips and nose, “I was hoping you’d come over!” He’s wearing a Nirvana t-shirt and pajama pants and smells like fresh soap and beer, his brown hair wet from the shower and falling adorably into his eyes. Honestly he looks so cute that Gerard could eat him up.

“I was gonna call Gee, but I think I lost my phone. I’ve looked fuckin everywhere for it, like for a whole hour, but it’s not here. Did I leave it in Ray's car?”
Gerard grins and kisses his excitable boyfriend on the cheek. “I dunno, probably. I'll check when I have a chance. How are you, babe, are you ok?”
“I'm more than okay,” Frank answers cryptically, green eyes flashing darkly as he drops back onto his feet and pulls Gerard into the house, slamming the door and launching himself at the older man again, kissing him hard and deeply on the mouth. Gerard relaxes into the frantic embrace, sliding his tongue between Frank's warm welcoming lips as the teenager runs his hands through his sweaty hair and grinds his hips up against Gerard’s crotch until they're both hard. “Are you sure you're okay?” Gerard splutters into Frank's eager mouth, “Never better,” Frank breathes, panting softly as his cheeks blush with heat. “Well, uh, d’you wanna take this upstairs?” Gerard giggles, very aware of the straining boner in his jeans as he nuzzles Frank’s neck and breathes his smell. Frank grins mischievously, “The couch is closer.”

Before Gerard can argue, the teenager drags him into the living room and pushes him down onto the silky blue couch cushions, quickly stripping off his own shirt before straddling Gerard's lap and kissing him again with almost feverish passion. Giddy with lust, Gerard kicks off his shoes and fumbles with his belt buckle, sliding part way out of his jeans as Frank's quick hands tug at the waistband of his boxers. Grinding on Gerard's leg so his own erection can rub against the older man's thigh, Frank pulls Gerard's underwear down and takes his boyfriend's throbbing dick in his hands, rubbing the hard shaft and moist tip just right until pre-cum is soaking his fingers. “Ohhh god,” Gerard moans happily, burying his face in Frank's bare chest and gripping his waist so hard he must be leaving marks. Frank shivers with pleasure and rubs himself harder on Gerard's leg, massaging the sensitive underside of the other man's dripping tip with his thumb until Gerard feels a tight boiling ecstasy building inside him, making him shudder and gasp. Sweat runs down his back and his legs start to tremble as he kisses along Frank's jaw and neck, tasting his skin and sucking at the pale flesh above Frank's collarbone until red hot blood blooms to the surface in a bruise the shape of his lips. Frank moans low in his throat and moves his hand more quickly as Gerard bucks his hips, riding the younger man’s slippery palm until the pleasure overwhelms him and his orgasm splashes thick ropes of cum across Frank's hands and stomach. Gasping through the comedown, he sinks back against the soft cushions and opens his eyes to see Frank's flushed face smiling above his own. The teenager leans down until their foreheads are touching, still rubbing himself like a horny dog against Gerard's thigh, and kisses him again with swollen lips, his warm skin slick with perspiration as he pants hoarsely against Gerard's mouth. Gerard whines happily and slides his hands down Frank's quivering hips, pulling the teen's pajama pants low enough to return the favor...

...and that's when the sound of the front door opening rings out of the hallway. Shock and panic stab Gerard's brain and he practically shoves Frank off his lap in a rush to cover himself up. Frank slides to the floor and picks up his discarded shirt, slowly wiping his sticky hands and belly as Linda Iero's voice echoes through the house. “Frank, are you awake?”

Horrified, Gerard zips up his fly and huddles deeper into the rapidly cooling couch, staring in disbelief as Frank calmly gets to his feet and pulls his pants up without any kind of hurry. The teenager looks a little dazed and his mom's voice was obviously a boner-killer but he's not as freaked out as he should be at being caught hand-fucking his boyfriend and Gerard wonders if the kid is drunk or maybe even high.

Stumbling over to the living room door, Frank steps out into the hall muttering a quiet “Hey mom,” and Linda turns towards him, frowning in confusion at her offspring's sweaty shirtless appearance. “Frank, what are you…?”
Gerard grabs his shoes off the floor and holds them against his chest, looking frantically around for an escape route and wondering if he can jump out of the window before Mrs Iero sees him. Then Linda’s puzzled expression melts into shock and anger as she finally looks beyond her son and sees Gerard cowering on her couch. Wilting under her gaze, he jumps guiltily to his feet, expecting a barrage of angry abuse to be hurled his way but all she does is turn back to her son and shoot him a furious glare. “Did you read the note I left for you, Frank?”
“Yeah,” Frank replies, scratching at the scab on his shoulder with a weird half-smirk.
“Then you knew exactly what time I’d be home, didn’t you,” Linda says through gritted teeth, her expression unreadable. Out of habit Gerard checks his watch. It’s 5 o’clock. Frank nods and looks at the floor, no longer smiling or meeting his mother’s gaze as he folds his stained t-shirt into a square. With clenched fists and pursed lips, Linda turns to Gerard and barks two words at him: “Get out!”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Mumbling frantic apologies, Gerard dashes past the fuming mother and son, through the front door and down the block with his face burning with shame, not even stopping to put his shoes on until he’s out of sight of the house. What the fuck just happened?! Why was Frank acting so weird? Surely he didn't set them up on the couch like that just so his mom could find them together? Why the hell would he do that? Jesus, fuck! Gasping for breath as city dust clogs his lungs, Gerard wipes his dripping face on his arm and tries to calm down but he feels so used and embarrassed and sick right now and everyone in the street is staring at him, making it all ten times worse. His heart hurts and his brain is screaming at him to drown out what just happened in numbing oceans of alcohol until he chokes. Blinking back tears, he pulls out his cell phone and scrolls through the contacts. It wouldn’t take long to call a cab and get himself to a dirty dive bar downtown. It wouldn’t cost much to lose himself in cheap vodka shots and too many of those sleepy blue pills his doctor gave him...

With a shaking hand he dials a number and someone picks up on the third ring.
“Hey Gee, what’s up?”
“Hi Ray. Look, um, I’m sorry if you’re busy but there’s just…I-I’m on Frank’s street and I need to, uh... Ray can you p-please come get me?”
“What happened? Are you okay?”
“No. I don’t know, I just…can’t be alone right now, Toro, I think I might do something s-stupid!”
He’s half-whispering, half-sobbing into the phone and Ray insists on coming to pick him up immediately. “Just stay where you are, okay? I’ll be there as soon as I can. Don’t move until I find you. You promise?”
“I p-promise.”

Hanging up, Gerard wipes his eyes and sits down on a nearby bench with his head in his hands, staring at his phone as confused thoughts run in circles through his troubled mind: What was Frank thinking? Is he okay? Is he using me to get back at his mother? Was he drunk today? Does he drink because of ME? Why the hell are we so fucked up? What the fuck are we even doing?! What's his mom gonna do to him? After five endless minutes of self-torture, Gerard gives up and tries calling Frank’s phone but it must really be lost because the line doesn’t even ring, it just goes straight to answer-machine. He doesn’t leave a message.

Notes

((( Sorry this took so long to update. My computer died and blah blah long story
but here it is. Please comment if you have the time, or an idea of what you want to happen later on.
Thanks for sticking with me!
xx)))