Silly Boy

There he was, the stage lights illuminating his silhouette. His red hair wildly flying, his hips shaking almost tauntingly. It was hard for him to keep his focus off of the singer. Silly boy. Why fall in love with someone who can never love you? Frank scolded himself, watching the lights dance off the reflective surface of Gerard's wedding ring.

Except he did love Frank. Frank remembered the nights years ago: the passion and lust that surrounded the two, no matter where they were or whom they were with, how genuine the three words sounded rolling off Gerard's tongue.

That hadn't happened since Lindsey. Lindsey was a wonderful woman— inviting, enjoyable, beautiful— but Frank held a silent grudge against her because she stole away his Gerard. Frank distantly heard the crowd explode as they struck the last cord for Planetary Go and his mind whirled. He heard Gerard start to sing, and Frank brought his guitar up to his chest, hugging it tightly.

"You have a wife, Frank!" Gerard's harsh words come back to the front of Frank's mind unexpectedly and Frank stood on stage, watching Gerard sing and letting the conversation flood back to him.

"This is wrong," Gerard had argued, running his hand over his short, black hair. "Frank, we can't keep doing this."

"Gerard..." Frank said quietly, slowly approaching Gerard. Both were silent as he helped attach the sheriff badge to Gerard's jacket, until Frank sighed and whispered, "I still love you."

"You have Jamia," Gerard said at an equal volume. "And I have Lindsey. I love her, Frank."

"You don't love me?" Frank whimpered, looking up slightly to meet Gerard's wet eyes.

"Frankie, you're my best friend in the whole world," Gerard said quietly. "I love you in a different way than I love Lin—"

"Say her name and I'm leaving this band," Frank spat, venom bubbling in his words. "I swear to God. Don't say that you don't love me because that is bullshit."

Gerard stammered, trying to figure out what to say without upsetting Frank even further. He looked into the eyes of his former lover, trying to find the words to say, but he was mum. Instead, he brought his hands away from his chest and cupped Frank's cheeks, wet with the man's tears, and leaned in, connecting their lips slowly.

Frank gave a mighty sob, squeezing his eyes shut. He pressed himself against Gerard's body, wishing for the days that he could push Gerard against the wall and have him as long as they could bear, but his body stiffened at the thought. He whined and tore his lips off of Gerard's, keeping their chests flushed together. "I love you, Frankie," Gerard whispered, pressing their foreheads together.

The overhead light crackled, sending a small wave of shock through the two, and Frank clutched Gerard's shirt in his fists. "Old as shit dressing room," he cursed and tore himself away from Gerard, wiping his face dry.

"Frankie, I love you," Gerard whispered. "But I love... Her... Differently." He sniffed and quickly fled the room, letting the door slam loudly behind him.

Frank sat down on the pea-green vinyl couch, burying his face in his hands, throat blocked with sobs and violent gasps for air. He wasn't sure how long he cried, but he only stopped when he felt a strong hand on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Ray asked quietly, carefully sitting down next to Frank. "We couldn't find you; we go on in a few minutes."

"I want to die, Ray," Frank said quietly, burying his face in Ray's shoulder. Ray was always, in a very literal sense, Frank's shoulder to cry on.

"You don't mean that," Ray said.

"Gerard doesn't love me," Frank explained at a murmur.

"I..." Ray sighed and said, "I don't want to tell you this, but... Gerard just got married."

"What?" Frank cried, standing up quickly. He didn't say anything else as he escaped the room, tearing down the hallway. He felt better, just running away. He wanted to run away, as far away as possible, to run away from his problems, from his unrequited love, from everything.

Then, he skidded to a stop. Standing a few yards in front of him was Lindsey, talking to her bandmate, the one with the spiked pink hair. Frank knew immediately what he had to do, and composed himself enough approach her. "Hey, Linds!" He cried happily, trying to hide his despair.

"Hey, Frank!" Lindsey exclaimed, hugging him tightly.

"I'm so sorry I missed the wedding," Frank apologized, breaking away. "I was preoccupied with not being told about it. Anyway, where's Gerard? We go on in, like, ten minutes."

"I think he went to find you, actually," Lindsey informed him.

"Oh," Frank said. "Great. Thanks."

"No problem," Lindsey smiled and went back to chatting with Jimmy.

More running. Hurried breaths. The only thing on his mind being Gerard. He knew what he had to do: make it known to Gerard what he'll miss.

Finally, Frank found him, talking to Mikey— of course. "C'mere," he said roughly and gripped Gerard's arm, dragging him to a secluded corner of backstage.

"What the fuck?" Frank asked quietly. The tears came back full force, and he angrily whispered: "I married Jamia to distract myself from you. I told you that I love you, that I want to be yours, and you go and get married? What is wrong with you?"

"Frank, I—" Gerard started but was cut off by Frank pushing him against the wall, claiming his lips hungrily. The younger's lips were busy; his hands were busier, quickly undoing Gerard's belt.

Neither objected as Frank slid his hand down Gerard's pants, feeling the man gasp as he cupped his member, already hard. Frank took it as a chance to slip his tongue into Gerard's mouth, letting Gerard snap his hips up into Frank's hand.

"This..." Gerard started, whimpering as Frank expertly ran his thumb over his slit, leaking pre-cum. "We're married."

"Fuck it," Frank snarled, working his hand on Gerard, bringing his mouth to his neck, sharply catching the skin between his teeth. "One last time, and I'm quitting forever."

"Frank," a voice says and Frank snaps his eyes open to find himself in front of the cheering crowd. Mikey is close enough for Frank to hear him without the monitors, which Mikey has covered with his hand. "Did you hear what Gerard just sang? You seemed somewhere else the whole time."

"What did he sing?" Frank asks.

"Superstar," Mikey informs him. "The Carpenters."

Frank blinks a few times and nods. "Next song," he says in a clipped voice, looking away from Mikey's eyes and pretending to tune his guitar.

You thought you had a chance, Frank thought to himself. Silly boy.

Notes

This is an open letter to someone.
They know who they are. Well, they will, anyway.

I was a silly girl to think that you would want me in any way. I know it was wrong, but the moment that I first came to you, reassuring you of what you thought was utter rubbish, I was intrigued. I wanted to know everything about you.
That day, I asked my mother what she thought when she first met my dad. Her response, "I heard your Papi speak for the first time, and I was completely interested in the way he spoke. There's really nothing interesting about it, but I felt like I could talk to him forever."
That's what I felt with you. I felt love. You were my first love. You are my first love. Our conversations were short and few, but they always left me wanting more.
Those three days were heaven. I had access to someone I loved, and being able to exchange such loving words was a work of God. But, the curse of my overprotective mother condemned me to loosing you.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to die. But I didn't. I knew that you wouldn't want that to be my fate, and that's what kept me alive. Not my promise to Tyler Joseph; not my commitment to Gerard Way; it was you.
You'll react somehow, I'm sure of it. I'm unsure of the way that you will, but I can be sure that it won't be good.
But I needed to say it.
I can be made fun of because I love someone with the same name as my savior. I can be made fun of because I have a 'schoolgirl crush'. I can be told I'm too young to feel this way. That will never change the fact that, with the first kissy face you sent me, you took my heart in trade.
Love, your Kristin.