Silly Boy

Gerard knows it's a mistake as soon as he looks at Frank. The lights glow a soft purple onto him, but he seems distant, as if trying to escape the arena without actually moving. He can hear Ray talking in his monitor, but Gerard doesn't acknowledge the words being said; he focuses on Frank.

Frank stays silent the whole time, looking at his shoes or closing his eyes almost blissfully. He has his guitar up on his chest, the muscles in his arms jumping out as he grips it tightly.

One look. That's all Gerard asks for. A single look, eye contact of some kind, anything to gauge Frank's reaction. This is for him, after all. Gerard glances to his brother, lingering near Frank, looking conflicted about whether to talk to him or stay put. However, Mikey was watching Gerard the whole time.

He finishes singing and watches Frank intently, watching for a sign. He sees Mikey approach the distant man, pull him out of his reverie, reach up to his mouth, and cover his monitor. Fuck. Now the conversation won't be heard.

Frank didn't cover his, though. "Next song," Frank says in a short voice, his voice going straight into Gerard's ear, looking away from Mikey's gaze.

The rest of the show goes without a catch. Gerard, trying to hide his sorrow, performs as he usually does, if not overly exaggerating. Past shows, he did it for the fans and their dirty fantasies; now, he does it for Frank and their past realities.

Surprisingly, once a tech gets Frank's guitar after the show, Frank approaches Gerard. "We need to talk," he says quietly and, not waiting for Gerard's response, pulls him to the dressing room.

"Close the door," Frank mutters when Gerard enters after him. Gerard closes the door with his foot and Frank buries his face in his hands, trying to compose himself. "I would like to know..." He starts, his face still hidden. "What made you think... That singing that song would be an okay thing to do."

"It's a good song," Gerard defends himself quietly, picking at his ragged cuticles.

"About me!" Frank yells suddenly, tearing his hands away from his face and looking accusingly at Gerard with those honey-hazel eyes. Those eyes that once held love and admiration for Gerard now shined with hatred and anger for the same men. "You sang that song for me! You might as well've went and fucking dedicated it to me!"

"Self centered, much?" Gerard mutters, then realizes what he said. "Fuck. That's not what—"

"They told me never to date someone in your own band!" Frank cries. "Just leads to bad blood and heartbreak. I shoulda listened."

"Frank—"

"You haven't got a single fucking clue what I see when I look at you, do you?" Frank asks, the question clearly rhetorical. "When I look at you, I see the man who tried to kill himself six years ago. I see the man who cried on my shoulder every night, drunk as fuck, just wanting someone to love him. The man who I loved. The man who loved me. I see the man that took my fucking innocence, Gerard." At this, Frank chokes out a sob, his hands clenching into fists. "God, I-I let you... I never should've."

"Well, the feeling's mutual," Gerard spits. "When I look at you, I see the man who watched us with wonder. The man who was the original My Chemical Romance fanboy. I see the man who dedicated his life to this band, who never left my side. I see somebody who loved me, took care of me. I married Lindsey to forget about you. I couldn't live with watching you be with Jamia, and I knew I needed someone too."

"Don't you fucking dare try to act like you're the victim!" Frank roars. "Gerard, all of the Leathermouth songs are about being angry and killing people and loving others. Who do you think I was angry at? Who do you think I wanted to kill? Who do you think I loved? All you, Gerard."

This leaves Gerard speechless.

"Do you even remember our first time?" Frank asks in a small voice after a silent moment. "Let me guess: no?"

"I do, Frank," Gerard whispers. "It's one of my fondest memories of you."

"What was I wearing?" Frank asks.

"Well, nothing."

"Smartass. I meant before."

"White dress shirt, red tie, black jeans. Your hair was in the short, two strand style, and you had in your silver lip ring," Gerard lists off immediatly. "I remember everything about that night, Frank."

"Prove it," Framk demands, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"How?"

"Have sex with me. Show me that you remember our first time."

"We have wives and children. And Mikey and Ray are probably waiting for us. This is a bad idea," Gerard protests.

"Too bad," Frank says, closing the distance between the two and capturing Gerard's lips in a rough kiss, his jaw working against Gerard's own moving mouth.

Gerard gives in and allows Frank to kiss him and lets Frank's hands travel all around his body. He's missed this kind of contact between the two of them; the contact that he's craved since that horrible day when he broke Frank's heart.

It's only when Frank starts to pull his shirt over his head does Gerard break the seal on their lips, panting slightly from not having been able to breath through the feverish kiss. "Frank," he says quietly, gripping Frank's hips tightly. "We can't sleep together. I'm sorry, but that guilt would follow me forever."

"Guilt?" Frank asks, his cheeks turning pink.

"My daughter would have a gay whore for a father. I don't want that for Bandit," Gerard whispers, looking down at the floor. "And Cherry and Lily. They'd... God, just no, Frank."

Frank bites his bottom lip and mutters a half apology, stepping away from Gerard. "You're right," he says quietly. "God forbid anyone knew we were sleeping together. Not like it hasn't happened before."

"Alright, now you're fucking pushing it," Gerard says and laughs lightly, trying to clear up the uneasy tension in the room. "Frankie, you know that I'll always love you, right? Not like how I did— I'll never be able to love you like I did— but... I do love you."

Frank nods slightly, avoiding Gerard's gaze.

"Frank, I'm serious," Gerard says sternly. "I love— Frank, look at me. Look at me. Thank you— I love you. Okay? I do. But not enough to want to sleep with you again. Maybe someday I'll love you enough again to do that, but right now, it's just a no. I'm sorry."

"It was a stupid thing to ask," Frank says dejectedly. "You're right, we shouldn't."

"Alright," Gerard nods and pulls on his jacket, pushing his hands into the pockets. His fingers brush by cold metal and he remembers something. He fishes the metal chain out of his pocket and places it in Frank's hand.

"It's a necklace," he explains. Frank looks down at the necklace and finds there to be a silver lock on the chain, the letters GAW written on it in messy black ink. Gerard Arthur Way. Gerard pulls his own necklace out of his shirt and shows the silver key with FAI written in the same scrawl. Frank Anthony Iero.

"It was supposed to be like those stupid little friendship necklaces and... Yeah," Gerard says as Frank pulls the small, fine chain over his head, making sure that the lock hangs in the front.

"I like it," Frank says, tucking the lock into his shirt as Gerard does the same with his key. "Initials, though? Kinda teenage-girly to me."

"Shut your damn mouth," Gerard laughs. "You love it. Admit it."

"Yeah, okay, it's a nice gift," Frank says and smiles. "Putting your art degree to good use."

"Making necklaces out of supplies found at the hardware store," Gerard says, nodding.

"Wait," Frank says and pulls out Gerard's key, comparing it to the lock. "It's a matching set."

"It was supposed to symbolize friendship," Gerard starts. "Now it symbolizes a secret."

"Secret?"

"That we still love each other. Even if you don't love me still..."

"Of course I still love you. I've never stopped."

"See? Our little secret," Gerard says, smiling coyly.

"Our little secret," Frank repeats.

Notes

So, this shit gonna be a full-length fic. Updates may be few and far between, so subscribe.

xoKristin