Archive of Our Own

Art school was… nice. Surprisingly nice, actually. Infinitely better than high school, at least. Which, to be fair, wasn't exactly a high bar, that place had been part prison, part purgatory.

Still, some part of Gerard couldn’t fully believe he was actually in art school. Like, he’d made it, not just out of Catholic suburbia, but into an actual space where people wanted to make weird things and talk about color theory and be themselves without being forced to listen to a sermon about eternal damnation.

At first, it had felt like he was making some dramatic, leftist, homosexual leap off a cliff, diving headfirst into the unknown at the start of his adult life, hoping he’d grow wings on the way down. It was equal parts liberating and terrifying. Mostly liberating. Especially compared to the dystopian incense-and-hallway-crucifixes vibe he’d faced in his last year at school.

And his mom? Okay, she had practically gone into mourning when he told her. She asked if he was sure about a dozen times, as if he was announcing he was leaving to be an interpretive dancer in a Satan’s off-Broadway production. But there was not much she could do at this point, it was his decision after all, he had the marks necessary to get into the school, it was near his house, no real hassle, really.

Her main concern, besides, you know, him becoming even gayer or whatever, was that he’d lose touch with his faith. As if religion was a fragile heirloom she’d handed down to him and he’d accidentally dropped it in a gutter full of oil paints and glitter.

Of course, what she didn’t know was that Gerard wasn’t much of a religious person, and hasn’t been for a while. He had already fumbled that heirloom way before nine months ago, right around the time he and Frank started dating. Full-on dating: love, sex, cigarettes, arguments, and waking up in each other’s arms.

The fact that she still had no idea about it? Honestly, a miracle. Vatican-certified. Saint-worthy. So maybe she was worried about the wrong things.

College, it turned out, was a mess of contradictions in the best way. Gerard had never seen so many types of people coexisting in the same ecosystem. There were trust fund kids who dressed like they’d fallen out of a 90s rom-com, kids who lived off ramen and bad tattoos, girls with electric blue hair and enough facial piercings to interfere with airport security, frat-boy-adjacent guys who only wore Ralph Lauren, barefoot stoners who spoke exclusively in half-formed philosophy.

And then, of course, the lost souls, the ones whose parents had shoved into college like a holding pen until they figured their lives out.

And somehow, Gerard didn’t feel like he didn’t belong. It had only been a month, but the shift already felt cosmic. After a lifetime of monotony, forced Sunday masses, beige school uniforms, Catholic guilt, and small-town mediocrity, this place felt like breathing for the first time. Like stepping into a world full of color when all he’d ever known was grayscale. He felt like he could start over and actually be… himself. Or at least start figuring out who that even was.

Sure, he was still shy. Social anxiety hadn’t magically evaporated with enrollment. But he found himself wanting to talk more, show more, not just keep his art hidden in sketchbooks under his bed. He also got the courage to cut his hair for the first time since sophomore year.

Frank had swooned when he saw it, his jet black hair now shorter, fluffy at the ends and showcasing small bangs that framed his pale face. Let’s just say they spent some extra hours in Gerard’s dorm bed that evening.

So, that was it. Gerard was finally dipping his toes into the vast ocean of independence, or at least, that’s what he told himself. After years of being under his mother’s watchful eye, her endless lectures about what he should believe in, what he should wear, and even who he should not be spending time with (hi, Frank), he was finally able to make his own decisions. Well, kind of. He was still calling home every other day like a dutiful son, but the fact that he could now eat instant ramen for three days straight without anyone telling him it was unhealthy… now that was freedom.

Frank, on the other hand, was basically a walking embodiment of someone who’d had their identity crisis in middle school and moved on. By the time Gerard was still figuring out how to fold his laundry, Frank had already tattooed a permanent map of his rebellious phase on his body after his first paycheck. A new nose piercing? Check. Five fresh tattoos sprawling across his arm and forearm? Check. And the designs? All Gerard 's ideas.

“What if we break up and you end up with my doodles all over your body?” Gerard had joked once, eyes narrowing playfully.

Frank, never one to miss a beat, had pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Then you’re stuck with me forever.”

Frank had his own definition of independence, mostly consisting of speeding 15 minutes of road between their houses into a reckless 5-minute dash. Working at the tattoo parlor down the road along with Ray, coincidentally the same boy who helped Gerard pick the flowers for Frank’s mom a summer ago. Small world, right?

Frank had always had a soft spot for special people in his life. That’s why he opted to stay living along with his mother instead of renting a place alone closer to Gerard’s campus. He told his boyfriend he felt bad for leaving her spending all those years by herself, so now he just wanted to enjoy her company a little more before living on his own.

His relationship with Frank, at least the official version of it, was as hidden as it could be from his mother. His mom still believed they were “just friends”, although Frank was far from being her favorite person, and pretty much a company Gerard’s mother rather he did not have around. They played the game well, weekends spent sneaking away from her prying parental eyes.

Their dates were now basically making out in the backseat of Frank’s mom’s car like the most romantic escapade there ever was, accompanied with movie nights in the living room or hanging out in front of corner stores. But Gerard was familiar with the way Frank had a way of making everything feel a little more exciting. In fact, every time he was lying in bed by himself afterward, his mind was still buzzing with a kind of stupid, giddy happiness.

In his first month at art school, Gerard had yet to make many real friends. Sure, he’d had his fair share of brief exchanges with classmates, the kind of casual small talk you throw out while grabbing lunch or during the few shared moments in the halls, but nothing that felt... well, genuine. It helped knowing Frank was already hitting it off with Ray and the rest of the crew at the parlor, it made Gerard feel a little more at ease, at least his boyfriend was good at making friends.

Meanwhile, Gerard was over here, trying not to look like a weirdo while attempting to make small talk about whatever was vaguely interesting that week.

He was starting to feel it, the sting of loneliness, even though he had Frank and Mikey. But Frank wasn’t exactly a platonic friend, and Mikey wasn’t just a regular sibling either. Gerard had shared his first kiss with Frank and a womb with Mikey (in a way). Those relationships were solid in their own ways, but he wanted to build a real, normal, non-complicated friendship.

He knew it wouldn’t be easy. His middle school friends had sort of drifted away over time, mostly due to distance, both physical and emotional. Keeping up with old friendships was harder than it should’ve been, especially when his life had turned into a chaotic cycle of switching schools every year and trying to fight gay allegations.

Then came the announcement of the welcoming party for new students. Friday night. A chance to meet people. Bond over loud music and cheap beer. Gerard had seen it happen in movies, people become friends at parties, right? After all, there’s always that one crazy moment at a party that brings everyone closer together. He figured he could give it a try. The night before the event, Gerard was on the phone with Frank, hesitating before bringing it up. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to go with Frank, he loved his boyfriend, obviously, but he was kind of craving the chance to be alone. To throw himself into the unknown. Maybe make some new connections that weren’t tied to his past, or his relationship.

“Oh, that’s cool, Gee! Can I come?” Frank’s voice was casual, but there was a little hopeful note in it that made Gerard’s stomach twist. Frank was always down for anything, and, as much as Gerard appreciated that, he sometimes felt like it made him a little... dependent on Frank for everything.

Gerard hesitated. He wasn’t sure how to say this without sounding like an idiot. “I, uh… was actually planning on going by myself. Do you mind?”

There it was. The words were out. He waited, bracing himself for Frank’s response. What if Frank thought he was trying to pull something sneaky? What if Frank felt left out? But, to his relief, Frank didn’t seem bothered at all.

“Not at all! Just let me know when you get back to the dorm, and don’t hesitate to call if you need a ride.”

Gerard exhaled, trying to mask the wave of relief that swept over him. Frank was cool with it. He wasn’t going to be upset. Gerard had been worrying over nothing. He felt a stupid smile tug at his lips.

After that, the conversation moved on to other things, light, easy, and careful, as always. There was a comfort in how they spoke. Like a routine they both shared, their words fitting together without effort. And for the first time in a while, Gerard felt a little more at peace with the choices he was making. It wasn’t that he didn’t love Frank or didn’t want him around, of course, he did. But this moment, the simple act of taking a step on his own, was something Gerard had been craving.

The next day, before the party, Gerard stood in front of the only mirror in his dorm, small, cracked, and barely big enough for him to see his full reflection. The glass stopped just past his knees, so he couldn’t even see his feet. Perfect. He was left to contemplate his outfit from the waist up.

He stared at his reflection, frowning, running a hand through his hair. Should he wear a jacket? It was cold, yeah, but also, would it make him look cool? Or would it just make him look like a try-hard, like the kind of guy who put way too much thought into something as trivial as a jacket? It was, after all, just a piece of clothing. But still, he could practically feel the judgment of the art kids, their eyes scanning him, the “I can tell you’re trying too hard” look burning into his back.

Frank’s got a bunch of tattoos, Ray was like six feet tall, Mikey had… glasses? Maybe that made him interesting. Gerard thought hopelessly how everyone around him had kind of a trademark that made them interesting to look at and start a conversation, at least. Whereas, he was just… Gerard… he dressed in black regularly? Yeah, that could work, he guessed.

He sighed, wiping a hand over his face. Gerard felt like he was living in someone else’s movie, one where everyone was effortlessly cool, and he was just... the awkward sidekick who accidentally tripped into a scene. He wasn’t sure what kind of sidekick, but he felt like he’d missed the memo on how to be, you know, interesting. Gerard reminded himself he was now an art school student, yet he still looked like he picked an education major or something.

Nothing wrong with being an education major. But it wasn’t... cool. He didn’t think it was, at least. And for the first time in his life, Gerard really wanted to be cool, even if just for tonight.

He tugged at the sleeves of his jacket, wondering if he looked as cool as Frank did in his old band shirts. Frank was the kind of guy who looked effortlessly, dangerously cool, with tattoos that told stories and a vibe that made everyone else feel a little bit like they didn’t belong, even if beneath all that he was the sweetest person ever. Gerard had never been able to replicate that, no matter how much he tried. He didn’t have cool tattoos, or hair that made him look like he just stepped out of a rock band photo shoot.

Gerard glanced down at his skinny jeans, definitely bought from the women’s section if he remembered right. Were they too tight? He shifted awkwardly, trying to get a better angle. Were they pulling in a way that made him look too feminine? Would that be bad? He sucked in his stomach, then let it out again, wondering if the small of his stomach was distracting in a good way or a bad way. Was it sexy or did it just look like he was trying too hard?

He grabbed the waistband of his jeans, praying his belt would hold up. Was his crotch too noticeable? Was anyone even going to notice him? He was spending so much time staring at himself, but at the back of his mind, he doubted he’d attract any looks. Not that he was actively trying to bring attention to himself, but it would be nice, at least for a night, right?

There was a beat where Gerard just stood there in silence, staring at his reflection. This whole thing was stupid. Who cared about his stomach or his jacket or how tight his jeans were? Frank would still think he looked amazing. And Mikey would probably make some sarcastic comment about Gerard’s fashion choices, but then end up borrowing his jacket later because it was “actually kinda cool, bro.” But even so… Gerard couldn’t help but feel like he was playing dress-up in someone else’s life.

Sighing, he made a decision. He threw on the jacket. At least it was practical, it was cold outside, and he needed to feel secure behind a piece of clothing. Gerard brushed his teeth, examined his reflection one last time (he did look like he was trying too hard, but whatever), and grabbed his keys. He decided to leave his phone behind, he didn’t need distractions, or worse, to be caught texting Frank during the party and looking like a total loser. Besides, the party was only a short walk from the dorm, and once he stepped out of the college’s reach, he knew the signal would vanish anyway.

The jacket was on, the keys were in hand, and Gerard felt the strange mix of excitement and dread bubble up in his chest. Tonight could be something. Or it could be another awkward social disaster. Either way, at least he was going instead of looming around by himself in his room. And that was the first step, he figured.

The cold, crisp air of the night hit Gerard's face as soon as he stepped outside, making him squint instinctively. He reminded himself not to rub his eyes, having experimented with eyeliner for the first time earlier, swiping it from his mom’s bag in a way that was subtle enough she wouldn’t even notice. It was a small rebellion, something just for himself, and though it felt like a personal victory, it also meant his eyes were a little more sensitive to the wind. At least he looked cool.

Gerard shoved his hands into his pockets, though it was a tight fit thanks to the woman’s cut thing. For a moment, he felt a pang of annoyance, thinking about buying pants that actually fit, but ugh, they just looked so much better. During his walk, though, his mind couldn’t help but drift back to Frank. He always did this, just as he’s about to do something new and exciting, Frank would somehow still occupy that little space in his brain designated just for him.

Gerard thought his boyfriend was probably super busy at the shop that night. Fridays were always the worst, so many people wanting to get tattoos for the weekend. Maybe he’s tired, Gerard hoped he got some good sleep by himself. He thought about how he wanted to rub Frank’s sore back and let him fall asleep on his chest. Frank’s always so warm.
Gerard paused mid-step, rolling his eyes at himself. God, he’s on his way to a college party and thinking about tucking his boyfriend into bed?

He really couldn’t help it. He was a sap, and if Frank had taught him anything, it was that it was okay to be a sap sometimes. Still, Gerard couldn’t shake the feeling that he was some kind of emotional disaster, even though he absolutely loved the idea of being soft with Frank.

The house was in sight now. The music blasted loudly enough that Gerard could feel the thump in his chest even before he’d reached the front door. The place was packed, people laughing, talking, a few dancing. He saw a couple of figures outside on the lawn, drinks in hand, animatedly chatting. It wasn’t too overwhelming, though, which he was grateful for. He was still getting used to the idea of being somewhere he didn’t know many people, and so far, it seemed like the party was less about getting wasted and more about actually meeting people.

He was relieved by that, at least. It felt like a good opportunity to connect, though, if he was honest with himself, the part of Gerard that didn’t want to be here was the part that hated small talk. He didn’t know how to make those surface-level connections without feeling like a total fraud. Still, it was a good way to get to know new people, right? That’s what this whole thing was about.

As he walked through the door, Gerard offered a quick wave to a few familiar faces. There was the girl from the cafeteria who was always friendly and smiled a lot, the guy who sat next to him in a couple of art history classes and once complimented his drawings (Gerard hadn’t forgotten that), and the group of students who organized the campus pet adoption fairs.

Someone waved him over to the kitchen. Gerard followed, trying to remember if he’d seen the guy before. A drink was thrust into his hand before he could even ask, a bright blue concoction that looked way too colorful to be anything good. Gerard sniffed it. The vodka was obvious, and he immediately grimaced.

“Don’t worry,” the guy said with a grin. “It’s mostly vodka, but it’ll help you loosen up. First party, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” Gerard chuckled awkwardly, trying to ignore the fact that he wasn’t much of a drinker. "First... kind of... yeah."

He didn’t want to be that guy who had to admit he wasn’t big on alcohol, so he took a sip. And then another. The bitter taste hit him like a brick, and he had to fight not to gag. But it was probably a good idea to blend in a little, right? He couldn’t just stand there holding a drink like it was some kind of prop. He forced himself to swallow, feeling the burn slide down his throat.

Gerard cursed himself inside his head. “You’re an adult for God’s sake, it’s just a little vodka!”

He turned, scanning the room for a familiar face to cling to. Someone to keep him grounded while he navigated this social battlefield. Gerard decided to approach the guy who had served him the drink. He wasn’t bad-looking, taller than Gerard, with long, dark hair and a cocky smirk that seemed permanently glued to his face. The kind of smirk that made Gerard wonder if this guy was a professional at parties, or just born with that level of confidence.

But the guy wasn’t even looking at him anymore, completely engrossed in his conversation with some other people, which left Gerard standing awkwardly with his cup in hand, still not entirely sure what he was doing here. After a moment of hesitation, he leaned forward and tapped the man on the shoulder.

Gerard scolded himself once again, thinking he looked like a toddler tapping someone on the shoulder like that. The guy turned around, and Gerard immediately felt the heat rise to his face at the intense eye contact, he didn’t even plan what to say. Great, now he probably looked like a nervous mess.

“Hey!” Gerard said, his voice maybe a little too loud. “What’s your name?”

The man blinked, almost as if he hadn’t expected to be spoken to, but then his lips pulled into an easy grin. “Bruce. And yours?”

“I’m Gerard!” Gerard said a little too quickly, feeling like he was cramming too much information into one sentence. It was fine. I’m fine, Gerard told himself.

Bruce extended a hand for Gerard to shake, and he grabbed it, a little too firmly, his fingers still cold from the air outside. The handshake lasted just long enough for Gerard to realize two things: one, he had absolutely no idea what to say next, and two, he didn’t know the socially acceptable amount of time to keep holding someone’s hand before it just became weird, so he quickly let go of it.

“So, you a freshman?” Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gerard nodded, suddenly feeling that familiar rush of awkwardness settle in his chest. God, it was a mess.

“Yeah, enrolled last month,” Gerard replied, his voice a little too high-pitched, but it was fine, right?

Bruce smirked. “Oh, so you’re a real fresh freshman then.”

Gerard laughed, relieved that Bruce was at least trying to break the ice. The joke wasn’t even that funny, but Gerard appreciated it anyway, because he wasn’t sure how to make any conversation right now. He was starting to feel that slight buzz in his head again, a combination of nerves and alcohol. The room seemed both too loud and oddly quiet at the same time.

Bruce didn’t wait for Gerard to say anything, seemingly comfortable with the silence between them. “Do you smoke?”

Gerard’s stomach flipped. He didn’t smoke, not at all, but Frank did, and made it look effortless, smooth, like it was all part of his charm. Gerard would know what to do, right? He hesitated. He should say no, it’s okay, not everyone is a smoker and they shouldn’t be ashamed of it.

However, Gerard couldn’t ignore the fact that he’d probably look like a loser if he didn’t. He knew it was stupid, but he wanted to be cool, he wanted to be… not himself right now. He realized how dumb his inner monologue sounded. Fuck it.

“Yeah, not that much though,” he said, immediately cringing at the half-truth. Was that a lie? It was definitely a stretch, his boyfriend smoked and he watched. He tried to act casual, like it was no big deal, but Bruce’s grin told him he’d caught onto the hesitation.

“Should we go outside?” Bruce asked, already pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket with a flourish. Gerard noticed immediately it was the same brand Frank liked. He recognized the logo, a little nod to the part of Frank that always made Gerard feel like he was hanging on to some secret world.

Gerard’s heart picked up speed, something electric flickering under his skin. He didn’t know if it was from the drink or just the excitement of doing something spontaneous, but suddenly, he felt a burst of adrenaline. Maybe it was because he was finally taking a real step out of his comfort zone, even if it felt totally out of character.

“Sure,” Gerard said, maybe too quickly, but Bruce didn’t seem to notice. Gerard nodded, trying to seem like he had it all under control, even though his stomach was twisting. It was just one cigarette, he could do it, just another thing for him to feel less like a kid.

They stepped outside together, their feet sinking slightly into the damp grass. The chilly night air hit Gerard’s skin, sending a little shiver through him as Bruce casually took a seat against the outside of the house. He laid back, hands behind his head, like he was more than comfortable in his own skin. Gerard hesitated for a moment before following suit, sitting a little too stiffly beside him, his knees drawn up as if he needed the extra shield from whatever the hell he was feeling.

As he glanced around the yard, surrounded by people laughing in the distance, Gerard couldn’t help but wonder how much of this is weird. He was in a relationship, after all. Was it weird for him to be hanging out with this Bruce guy while Frank wasn’t around? Would Frank even be cool with this? The last thing Gerard wanted was to make Frank uncomfortable. But then again, wasn’t part of college about experiencing new things? Maybe he was just overthinking everything.

Bruce lit the cigarette with a flick of his lighter, the flame briefly illuminating his face. He took a deep drag, exhaling slowly before offering it to Gerard, who stared at it for a second too long. Oh God. How do you even smoke again?

Gerard watched Bruce’s casual movements, how the cigarette looked natural in his fingers, and felt the pressure building. He couldn’t just stand there like a moron. He grabbed the cigarette between his fingers, trying to mimic what he’d seen Frank do. The end of it felt hot against his skin, and the smell of the smoke, sharp and acrid, made him wince before he even took a puff.

Come on, Gerard. It’s just a cigarette. Just do it.

He hesitated, but then raised it to his lips, taking a deep inhale. Big mistake. The smoke rushed down his throat and he immediately started coughing, hacking like his lungs were on fire. Yeah, Gerard was never recovering from that. He could feel his face flush red, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Bruce trying not to laugh.

Bruce didn’t wait long before taking the cigarette back, a grin plastered on his face. “You don’t smoke, do you?” he asked, sounding more amused than concerned.

Gerard, still gasping for air, shook his head quickly. He wanted to shrivel up and disappear into the grass. He didn’t even know why he’d said yes to smoking in the first place. The last thing he needed right now was to look even more pathetic.

“I... I don’t, actually,” Gerard admitted between coughs. “I was just, uh… trying to fit in, I guess.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow but didn’t press the issue, tossing the cigarette aside and leaning back against the house again. Gerard wished the ground would swallow him up. Why did he have to make everything so damn complicated?

A few seconds passed, and Gerard finally managed to collect himself, but the weight of his embarrassment lingered. The whole situation felt so wrong, he was supposed to be enjoying himself, making new friends, right? But all he wanted now was to call Frank, hear his voice, and crawl into his arms. He wasn’t sure what was worse: how weird everything felt or how much he missed the comfort of being with Frank.

“I should probably head back inside,” Gerard muttered, already standing up, wiping his palms on his jeans, trying to act like it was no big deal.

Bruce just shrugged. “Yeah, no worries. See ya around, man.”

Gerard gave a half-hearted wave before retreating back into the house, wishing he could just teleport back to his dorm, lie down, and hug his pillow while pretending he wasn’t this much of a mess.

At the tattoo parlor, Frank was behind the counter, wiping down the surface as Ray moved around the shop, preparing for the end of the night. Even though it was close to closing time, they had a steady rhythm, and the shop had that familiar hum to it, the kind of quiet after the chaos of a busy day. Ray wasn’t quite as familiar with Gerard as Frank was, but they’d had a few conversations. He liked Gerard well enough, even if he wasn’t the talkative type like Frank.

“So,” Ray began, folding his arms across his chest, a curious glint in his eye, “how’s Gerard holding up with college?”

Frank glanced up at him, taking a moment to stack away some latex gloves. “Oh, I think he’s doing pretty well. He likes his classes and professors, so that’s a plus after high school, am I right?” He grinned, remembering how Gerard had often vented about high school. “He’s at a party today, though.”

Ray raised an eyebrow. “A party? Why didn’t you go with him? I could’ve closed by myself today.”

Frank shrugged, his hands still busy. “Nah, it’s okay… He said he wanted to go by himself, try to mingle around, y’know?”

Ray’s gaze shifted to Frank, a little skeptical. “Don’t you think that’s a little weird?”

Frank froze, the latex gloves in his hands slipping slightly. “What do you mean?” he asked, trying to sound casual, though his mind was already racing.

Ray paused, seeming to think carefully before answering. “I don’t know, man. I’m not dating anyone right now, but I don’t know how I’d feel about my boyfriend alone at some college party. It just seems... I don’t know... a little sketchy?”

Frank’s stomach dropped, the weight of Ray’s words suddenly sinking in. Was he being naïve? Frank reassured himself that everything was fine and not weird at all, but something in the pit of his stomach twisted. They had always kept communication open, trust had never been an issue before. He trusted Gerard, right? He didn’t think Gerard would do anything to mess things up. But then again... What if he was feeling lonely?

Frank stopped in his tracks, stacking the gloves onto the shelf with a little more force than necessary. He felt a familiar pang of doubt settle in his chest, a weird mix of insecurity and protectiveness that he hadn’t felt before with Gerard. Maybe Ray was just being paranoid... but maybe he had a point.

Some minutes had passed, and Frank was still pacing mentally through the minefield of what Ray had said. He hated how it lingered. He wasn’t the jealous type. He trusted Gerard. Completely. But still... the idea of Gerard at some crowded college party, surrounded by strangers, possibly drinking, possibly not thinking clearly, made something uncomfortable twist in his chest.

Frank clenched his jaw, caught somewhere between two equally shitty questions: what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t trust his own partner? But also what kind of boyfriend would he be if he just shrugged everything off like it didn’t matter?

Eventually, he gave in to the overthinking spiral, excused himself with a vague smoke break apology, and stepped outside the shop. It was quiet out there, the streetlights buzzed, and the air was just starting to bite with that early-autumn chill.

He lit a cigarette and pulled out his flip phone. The screen was scratched to hell, and the buttons required an unreasonable amount of pressure to work, but it still called Gerard just fine.

He dialed. Ring. Ring. Ring. Nothing.

He frowned, thumb hovering over redial. Maybe Gerard was in the bathroom. Maybe the music was too loud. Maybe he didn’t even have signal. The dorm’s signal was shit on a good day, and Frank doubted the party house was any better.

Still, he tried again.

Same thing. Straight to voicemail.

He exhaled slowly, smoke curling out of his mouth. Frank thought to himself that it was fine, Gerard was probably having fun, and that was the point, right?

He pocketed the phone, took another drag, and stared up at the moon, quietly telling himself they were fine. They were always fine.

Gerard was now several degrees tipsier and several steps deeper into socializing than he ever expected to be. The earlier cigarette debacle with Bruce was now a fading embarrassment, buried under the growing warmth of alcohol and the ease of casual conversation.

He found himself talking to a group of girls, bright, chatty, and maybe a little too enthusiastic. They were students from the all-girls’ school down the road from his old Catholic high school, and he was shocked to realize they all actually knew Frank. Like, really knew Frank.

One of them gasped, eyes wide as saucers. “No way! You and Frankie are together? Like, dating dating?”

Gerard blinked, cheeks flushing. He wasn’t exactly used to being put on the spot, but he smiled through it. “Yeah… Nine months next week, actually. Time flies.”

It felt good to say it out loud. No code, no hiding, no tiptoeing around language like he had to do at home. He was proud of that relationship, loved getting to brag about it in situations that didn’t involve his mother’s disapproval or awkward sidesteps around the word boyfriend.

Another girl leaned in, a curious tilt to her head. “That’s crazy! I always thought Frankie was, like... straight?”

The words hit a little weird, though her tone wasn’t accusatory, just surprised. Still, something about it made Gerard’s stomach clench a little.

Then, as if on cue, a third girl chimed in, clearly riding the wave of a few too many drinks. “I mean, he did hook up with half our school,” she said with a shrug. “I thought he was just, you know, the hot bad boy type. Like... slept around, played guitar, then left you heartbroken.”

Another laugh. “Did he just turn gay all of a sudden?”

Gerard felt his smile falter. He shifted awkwardly, hand brushing through the back of his hair, his nerves starting to rattle. He wasn’t mad… okay, maybe a little, but mostly he was just uncomfortable. If Frank were here, he’d probably find the perfect snarky way to shut it down, charming, sharp, and a little ruthless. But Gerard didn’t have that skill, he was too nice and too awkward.

Still, he had to say something.

“Frankie’s... bi, actually,” he said, his tone polite but clipped. The emphasis was there, just subtle enough to say that what they were saying wasn’t cool without fully calling them out.

“Oooh!” the first girl squealed. “That means I still have a chance then! He’s super hot.”

Gerard blinked.

Before he could say anything, she caught his expression and quickly backpedaled. “I’m just kidding! Obviously. You two probably make a really cute couple. Like, opposites attract, right?”

“Thanks,” Gerard mumbled, feeling the backhanded compliment hit him square in the gut.

But the hits kept coming.

“Still,” another girl continued, swirling her drink. “Frank had such a reputation. You must’ve had a hard time with that. Were you already at school then? God, every girl wanted to sleep with him.”

Gerard forced a laugh, though his smile was tight. He knew Frank was attractive. He wasn’t blind. But hearing it laid out like that was… less than ideal. These weren’t just compliments, they were borderline play-by-plays of Frank’s dating history.

He tried to change the subject, but then came the final blow.

“Is he good in bed?”

There was a brief moment of stunned silence. One of the girls widened her eyes and tapped the girl’s shoulder, whispering, “Dude.”

“What?” she said, genuinely confused. “I’m just curious! I wanna know what all the fuss is about.”

That was Gerard’s cue.

With the tightest smile he could muster, he stood and said, “I’m gonna go get another drink.” His voice was still friendly, but the underlying tension wasn’t subtle.

As he turned to walk away, the more polite girl called after him, “Sorry about her, she gets kind of wild when she’s drunk! We can catch up later, just us!”

Gerard nodded over his shoulder, but didn’t slow down. He wasn’t mad, exactly. More... hollowed out. He knew Frank had that magnetic pull, people were always drawn to him, like moths to a very tattooed flame. And Gerard didn’t usually mind. But tonight, with alcohol buzzing in his veins and girls casually dissecting his boyfriend’s past like it was public property, something felt off.

Gerard thought about how he missed him, suddenly craving the weight of Frank’s arm slung lazily around his shoulders, the familiar comfort of fingers running through his hair.
It was already nearing 3AM when Gerard finally decided to call it a night. His limbs were heavy, his eyes smudged with stolen eyeliner, and his stomach just starting to realize how blue the suspicious blue drink had been. He blinked blearily at the door on his way out, thinking that at least he survived.

Weirdly, despite a couple of very awkward encounters including a failed cigarette and a mini interrogation about his boyfriend’s sex life, the party had actually been… kind of nice? He hadn’t blacked out, hadn’t cried in a corner, and nobody had asked him to explain why his jeans were so tight. In Gerard’s book, that was a win.

He stumbled down the front steps, arms crossed tight against the chill, and grinned to himself like an idiot. Gerard thought about how now he could say he’d been to a college party wearing his mother’s eyeliner and drinking blue alcoholic beverages. It really wasn’t much, but it felt like shedding a layer of skin. Like letting a little more light and freedom in.

He was in the middle of that charming internal and tipsy monologue, halfway to giving himself an imaginary high five, when he heard his name being called.

“Gerard!”

He turned around, a little dazed, only to see Bruce speed-walking toward him across the yard like he was chasing down a late bus.

“Oh, hey,” Gerard greeted, trying to keep his footing on the slightly wet grass.

“You’re already leaving?” Bruce asked, a little breathless, holding up a small piece of paper.

Gerard chuckled, swaying just slightly. “Already? Dude, it’s literally three in the morning. I think that if I stay more I’ll just pass out and sleep on the lawn.”

Bruce laughed, then casually stepped closer, brushing Gerard’s shoulder with his hand in that half-joking, half-flirty kind of way that made Gerard’s stomach clench. Just for a second.

“I thought you’d come back and chat with me more,” Bruce said, his voice low, a little too comfortable.

Gerard blinked. Wait, what?

He gave a weak laugh, heart speeding up, in the way one does when they feel like they’re on the edge of something they shouldn’t be.

“You scared me off with the cigarette fiasco,” Gerard said, trying to steer the conversation back to neutral ground. Laugh it off and move on.

Bruce shrugged. “I can teach you how to smoke, no worries.”

Gerard’s mind kicked into overdrive. He should say Frank could teach him that. He should say he already had someone that cared enough about him to not let him smoke, someone who always bought him watermelon candy and kissed his forehead in parking lots.

But all of that stayed lodged in his throat. Instead, Gerard just nodded, swallowing past the dry cotton in his mouth.

Bruce stepped closer, holding out the slip of paper with a number scribbled in barely-legible handwriting. “Here’s my phone. Call me if you want. I can show you around sometime, cutie.”

Gerard stared at it, hesitated, then took the paper between two fingers like it might burn him. His brain whispered to him that he had his own boyfriend to call, his own loving boyfriend that right now had no idea that this random guy was straight up flirting with Gerard like there was no tomorrow. And Gerard wasn’t trying to stop it.

“Yeah, sure,” he heard himself say.

What?

Bruce grinned. “Sweet. See you around, Gerard.”

And just like that, he was gone, disappearing into the house like none of this had been anything at all.

Gerard stood there for a long moment, the cold wind biting through his jacket, the note still pinched between his fingers. He pocketed the slip of paper, unsure what to do with it. It wasn’t like he’d actually call Bruce. He didn’t even know Bruce. Sure, the guy was... kind of charming in that older college senior vibe, but Gerard's tipsy brain needed to shut the fuck up immediately. He was in love with Frank. End of story. No sequels.

The walk back to his dorm was quiet, the sort of quiet that buzzes in your ears when your head’s still swimming and your heart’s trying to come down from everything. The air was crisp, the sky inky and blank, and Gerard shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, a small, lopsided smile tugging at his lips.

Despite everything, the drunk girls, the awkward cigarette debacle, the maybe (actually, definitely) flirty Bruce situation, it hadn’t been a bad night. He’d survived his first college party. Wore eyeliner. Didn’t puke. Smoked (badly). It felt like a rite of passage.

The moment he stepped into his dorm room, the silence wrapped around him like a comforting blanket. He kicked his shoes off lazily, heading straight for his phone and opening it, the screen lit up showcasing 2 missed calls: Frankie <3.

Guilt and fondness flooded him in equal parts.

Gerard didn’t even hesitate, he hit redial immediately, hoping Frank was still awake. The line rang a few times, then shuffled with static and movement before Gerard heard that familiar, sleepy rasp.

“Gee...?”

Gerard melted instantly. “Oh, baby. Sorry, did I wake you up?”

Frank made a soft, tired sound, smacking his lips a little. “Yeah... but it’s okay. Always nice to hear your voice. Even if it’s the middle of the night.”

Gerard laughed, a little bashful. “I just got back from the party. Wanted to let you know I made it home in one piece. Not dead in a ditch. You know, the usual check-in.”

“Good,” Frank murmured, voice still heavy with sleep. “That’s good. I'm glad you're safe, love.”

There was a pause, the kind where you can just hear the smile on someone’s face.

“How was it?” Frank asked, voice a bit more alert now.

“It was… nice,” Gerard said, flopping down onto his mattress and staring at the ceiling. “Not like one of those insane parties from teen movies. No keg stands or anything. But yeah, I had a good time. I’ll tell you more about it later, when your brain is functioning and you’re not half-asleep.”

Frank snorted softly. “Half-asleep Frank is charming as hell, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh, he is,” Gerard teased. “He proposed to me last week.”

“Did you say yes?”

“Of course.”

Frank chuckled, low and sweet. “Ice cream and a movie tomorrow?” he asked, the offer warm and simple.

Gerard's heart squeezed. “Yes. Absolutely yes.”

He could already picture it, Frank curled up next to him on his bed, both of them wrapped in a too-small blanket, Frank dozing off ten minutes into the movie with his head tucked under Gerard’s chin. And maybe, just maybe, Gerard would tell him everything. The cigarette. The girl’s questions. Bruce.

Or maybe not all at once. But soon.

“I can’t wait to see you,” Gerard murmured, his voice going quiet with affection. “Feels like it’s been forever.”

“Same here,” Frank said, softer now. “Love you, Gee.”

“I love you too,” Gerard whispered, eyes fluttering shut.

The next day, Gerard was practically vibrating with excitement as he stepped into Frank’s beat-up car, the familiar squeak of the door and smell of motor oil oddly comforting. He had to remind himself to thank Frank’s mom for continuing to believe this rust bucket was a “perfectly safe vehicle” and not, in fact, a deathtrap with four wheels and exactly zero airbags in Frank’s hands.

Gerard slid into the passenger seat, the leather sticky against the back of his thighs. He’d thrown on the same outfit from the party, minus the jacket, way too hot for it now. His hair was still slightly tousled, eyeliner washed off, but there was something about the sunshine that made him feel lighter. Or maybe it was Frank.

Frank looked up from where he was fiddling with the AUX cord, and the way his eyes lit up made Gerard feel like the most beautiful person in the world, even in yesterday’s tight jeans.

“You look nice,” Frank said, that lopsided grin curving into something dangerously fond. “Got ready just for me?”

Gerard smirked, leaning in. “Always, baby.”

They shared a quick peck, soft and easy, but that wasn’t enough. Not after a whole week apart. So it turned into a longer kiss, slow and warm, the kind that left Gerard humming under his breath and Frank briefly forgetting he was parked in front of a very public space.

When they finally pulled away, Frank rested his forehead against Gerard’s with a lazy smile. “God, I missed you.”

“Same,” Gerard whispered, thumb brushing over Frank’s jaw. “I hate this stupid week apart thing.”

Frank laughed and started the car, the engine making a sound like it was clearing its throat after a bad cold. “Tattooing waits for no man.”

“Tattooing can suck it,” Gerard muttered, buckling his seatbelt.

They drove to the small convenience center near campus, the one with a 24/7 ice cream freezer. Frank parked like he was in a Fast & Furious chase scene, diagonally and definitely not between the lines, and they both piled out.

Gerard went with pistachio, Frank got chocolate chip cookie dough, and they ended up on the hood of the car, legs dangling over the front bumper, the sun warm on their backs.

“You're going to drop that scoop if you lean back any further,” Gerard warned, eyeing the way Frank balanced his cone.

“Then you’ll just have to lick it off me,” Frank replied, smug, already leaning a little further for dramatic effect.

Gerard rolled his eyes and leaned over to steal a bite of Frank’s cone, grinning at the mock scandal on his boyfriend’s face.

“Ice cream thief.”

“I’m your boyfriend,” Gerard argued, mouth full. “That gives me legal rights to like fifty percent of it.”

“Oh, that’s how this works?”

“Communist ice cream,” Gerard said with a shrug.

They went quiet for a moment, just enjoying the taste of cold sugar and the quiet hum of traffic in the distance. Frank’s foot tapped lightly against Gerard’s in a steady rhythm. Gerard looked over at him, eyes squinting from the sun.

“Frank?”

“Hmm?”

“I missed you.”

Frank turned to him, eyes soft. “You already said that.”

“I know, I just…” Gerard shrugged. “Wanted to say it again.”

Frank smiled, brushing his hand against Gerard’s thigh. “Say it as many times as you want. I’ll never get sick of it.”

Gerard melted just a little, letting his head fall onto Frank’s shoulder for a minute. The moment was perfect. Almost too perfect.

And yet, in the back of his mind, something lingered. That scrap of paper in his pocket. The girls’ voices. The cigarette.

He hadn’t told Frank about any of it yet.

“Oh! Tell me about the party!” Frank said as if on cue, lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Any juicy gossip?” He wiggled his eyebrows, already half-smirking.

Gerard's smile faltered. Just a twitch, barely noticeable, but enough for his stomach to tighten. Yeah… there was gossip all right. Juicy? Sure. Traumatizing? Also yes.

He hesitated, licking at the edge of his melting pistachio cone while thinking of what to say. There was no lying to Frank. He was like a human polygraph machine, only instead of wires and beeping, he used forehead kisses and perfectly timed “are you okay?”s.

So Gerard did what any self-respecting guilty boyfriend would do: he stalled.

“Well,” he started, a little too chipper, “I was just the right amount of tipsy. Like, perfectly buzzed. Not throw up in a bush level, or crying in the bathroom. Just like… the lights were prettier than usual, and my body-is-heavy-but-it-feels-nice drunk.”

Frank laughed, resting his elbow on his knee and turning toward him, the sun lighting up the scruff on his jaw. “That’s quite a vision.”

“Right?” Gerard grinned, still playing the long game. “And people were actually really nice! Some guy told me he liked my jeans, though, in retrospect, he might’ve just been staring at my ass. Still, I'll take it.”

“Your ass is impressive,” Frank said matter-of-factly, giving Gerard’s thigh a little squeeze over his jeans. “You worked hard on it. Sitting in all those classes.”

“Exactly.” Gerard smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Frank noticed. Of course he did. He always did.

“You okay?”

Gerard nodded too quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I just… there was this group of girls I talked to for a while. They went to the all-girls school near ours? You might’ve known them in high school?”

Frank furrowed his eyebrows, as if carefully considering the situation, before speaking up again. “Well, I mean, maybe... but honestly, I don’t remember much about them. Except Jennie, of course, since I basically broke down crying on her lap about being gay.”

Gerard couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the image. “Yeah, I mean, you might not remember them, but from what I gathered, they definitely remember you.”

Frank raised an eyebrow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Gerard grinned mischievously, leaning back a little as he said, “Well, they basically went on and on about how you hooked up with half the school.”

Frank let out a long, dramatic whistle, adopting a look of mock guilt. “Okay, okay, half is a bit of an exaggeration. Let’s call it... a solid quarter.”

Gerard chuckled. “That sounds a lot better!”

But Frank, as always, needed to make sure everything was clear between them. He shifted a little, his tone growing more serious as he continued. “Look, yeah, I did sleep around a lot before I met you. It was... I don’t know, just hormones and being young, right? Some days, I swear I woke up and I just needed to stick my dick in something. It was just part of figuring things out. But that doesn’t mean it was meaningful. It wasn’t, like, real. Not like what we have.”

Gerard’s laughter reached a new peak at that point, the image of Frank saying something so blunt and unapologetic almost too much to handle. “Okay, Frank, let’s not treat women like objects here.”

Frank flinched dramatically, eyes wide with realization. “Oh shit, yeah, I didn’t mean it like that. You know what I mean, though, right? I just mean, it was like... one of those teenage phases. Hormones were out of control. But, like, I hope this doesn’t bother you, Gee.”

Gerard, still laughing but now also feeling a little more tender, reached over and threaded their sticky, ice cream-covered fingers together. “It doesn’t bother me that you had your fun, really, but…” Gerard hesitated, the insecurity creeping back into his voice. He paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. “It’s just… sometimes I feel a little insecure because, well, you know, I’m a guy. And I guess I just wonder… do you miss being with girls?”

Frank’s expression softened immediately, and he gently squeezed Gerard’s hand. “Gee, for me, this whole thing isn’t about gender. I haven’t missed being with anyone since we got together, not even a little bit. I mean, I don’t care about body parts, you know? I don’t care if you’ve got huge tits or not.” He laughed softly at his choice of words, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “What I care about is you. You’re you. That’s why I’m with you. You’re mine.”

Gerard felt the sincerity in Frank’s words sink in deep, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world outside of them had just faded away. His heart, which had been twisting in knots, now felt lighter. Without even thinking about it, Gerard leaned in and let Frank kiss him on the cheek, the coolness of the ice cream still lingering on his lips. Frank’s lips trailed to the side of his neck, making Gerard giggle and squirm a little, though he couldn’t deny how much he loved the attention.

Frank, of course, was relentless in his teasing. Gerard squirmed a bit more, trying to pull away from Frank’s mischievous kisses, but the smaller boy only chased him, laughing in that way Gerard adored. Frank had a way of knowing exactly how to make him feel at ease, even when his thoughts were swirling with uncertainty.

Their eyes met then, and for a long moment, neither of them said anything. It wasn’t awkward, it was just that quiet understanding that had developed between them over time. Gerard’s heartbeat settled into a calm rhythm, matching Frank’s own, and in that silence, Gerard suddenly realized how far they’d come together. He remembered how, just a few months ago, he couldn’t even initiate a simple kiss without feeling all nervous and unsure of himself. Now, here he was, with Frank looking at him like that, with so much love and certainty in his eyes. And Gerard? Gerard had grown into someone who could look back at Frank with equal intensity, no longer afraid to be the one to reach for him.

Gerard, in a bold move, reached up to gently cup Frank’s cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of it softly. Their faces were so close now, the space between them filled with everything they’d shared and everything they were still discovering. He held Frank’s gaze, feeling that confidence he’d never had before, and let it settle into his chest, knowing exactly what he wanted to say.

“You’re mine too,” Gerard murmured, a soft smile playing on his lips. He couldn’t help it, he felt like he was finally in a place where he could say it.

Frank smiled back at him, his eyes softening even more. “I know, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Gerard leaned in then, pressing his lips to Frank’s gently, savoring the sweetness of the moment. The ice cream was long gone, their hands now just holding each other, fingers intertwined. In that kiss, Gerard felt all of his worries drift away. He didn’t need to be anyone else. He didn’t need to have some history of hooking up with everyone on campus. All he needed was Frank. And Frank needed him.

The softness of the moment enveloped them, the lingering warmth from their earlier laughter still hanging in the air. Gerard felt that familiar pull in his chest, that deep connection with Frank, the kind that was now second nature, no longer just an infatuation, but something real and deeper.

Frank leaned in again, his lips brushing against Gerard's as he gently pressed his forehead to his, eyes closed in a way that suggested he was soaking in the moment, savoring it.

“Gee…” Frank murmured, voice warm and hushed, like he was sharing a secret with Gerard, “I’m serious, I want you and no one else, okay?”

Gerard felt the sincerity easing his lingering doubts. He had been nervous about the idea of Frank's past, but in this moment, those worries seemed distant. Frank's past didn't matter. It never would again. Not when they were so perfectly wrapped up in each other.

“I know,” Gerard whispered, giving Frank’s cheek a soft, lingering touch before pulling away just enough to look into his eyes again. “It’s just, you’ve been with so many people, and I’ve never really… done that much. You know?”

Frank gave a small, understanding smile. “You’re you, Gerard. You don’t need a past full of stuff to be worth anything. Not to me.” He tugged gently at Gerard's hand, pulling their joined fingers close to his lips to kiss the back of Gerard’s hand softly. “I’ve got you now.”

Their moment together felt almost too fragile, like something too beautiful to interrupt with anything that could threaten the calm they’d just built. Gerard was hesitant to bring up Bruce, there was no reason to, not when he was so wrapped up in Frank's touch, in the way their hands fit together so easily, in the taste of Frank’s lips still lingering on his own. As they kissed, their bodies leaning into each other like they always did, Gerard couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly Frank got lost in him. His boyfriend was a true master of this, of making Gerard forget about the world around them, of melting him into nothing but the feeling of their lips pressed together. But then, as Frank slipped his tongue into the kiss, Gerard suddenly snapped back into reality.

He pulled away just slightly, his lips brushing against Frank’s one last time before speaking in a hushed smiley tone. “Frankie, c’mon, there are families around, let’s keep it PG-13, yeah?”

Frank pulled back just a little, rolling his eyes with the exaggerated annoyance only he could pull off. “Boring… honestly, we'd give them the best show ever.”

Gerard couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, I’m not really in the mood to be someone's entertainment today.” He stepped down from the hood of the car, feeling the heat of the afternoon sun pressing against his skin. “Let’s just go back to the dorm, yeah? I’ll sneak you in, and we can just cuddle for the rest of the afternoon.”

That, of course, was an offer Frank couldn’t resist. Without hesitation, he slipped off the hood of the car with an almost mischievous smile on his face, immediately heading for the driver’s side. Gerard rolled his eyes affectionately but couldn’t suppress the fondness that flooded his chest.

Once Gerard’s room door clicked shut behind them, Frank didn’t waste any time. He immediately placed both of his hands on Gerard’s ass, sighing deeply and dramatically burying his face into the crook of Gerard’s neck. “Ugh, I hate that it’s not socially acceptable for us to be like this in public,” Frank muttered, his voice muffled by Gerard’s skin.

Gerard laughed, clearly amused. “You just want an excuse to squeeze my ass,” he teased with a playful grin.

Frank hummed in agreement, nodding his head. “I don’t need an excuse, you love it,” he shot back with a smirk.

Naturally, they ended up on the bed, all soft, affectionate touches and wandering hands exploring below clothing. They weren’t in a rush or desperate, just caught in that moment of indecision between wanting to get more intimate and actually fuck, or simply curl up together to sleep. It ended up being a mix of both, soft kisses, tender touches, and the comfort of being close. Gerard straddled Frank’s lap, alternating between deep kisses and relaxing against the crook of Frank’s neck, enjoying the warmth and security.

But then, as it often did, Frank’s hands began to wander, gently slipping beneath the waistband of Gerard’s clothing, and before they knew it, their kisses deepened once again, igniting that spark they couldn’t seem to resist.

It was a beautiful mess, slow, but intense. Deep and filled with that kind of longing only six days apart could possibly justify (a lifetime, really, in their dramatic little world). Gerard was straddled over Frank, moving with deliberate care, each motion purposeful and steeped in something more than just lust. Now already rid of clothes, Gerard slowly eased his way down onto his boyfriend’s awaiting member. Their bare skin glistened and Frank was delirious at the sight of Gerard’s body on top of him.

They were maturing together, even in the sexual sense, and Gerard was now confident enough to just bare his body in front of his boyfriend, knowing the sight was responsible for mind-blowing orgasms on Frank’s part. Gerard discovered he loved being pampered in the bedroom, he loved to be taken care of and praised. He loved to chase his own pleasure using Frank’s body, just as much as he loved to make the other boy feel good.

Their hands were linked together, Frank’s free one on Gerard’s waist to help him with the up and down motions, knowing he’s used to getting tired. But Frank couldn’t just lie there distantly anymore, not when Gerard looked like that. His skin was flushed, his lips parted, the faintest sheen of sweat catching the low light and making him glow. Even tangled up in the heat and the chaos, limbs everywhere, breathing uneven, Gerard somehow managed to look impossibly beautiful, and Frank was desperate to get his lips on the boy’s skin. The pull toward him was instinctive, impossible to fight, so Frank leaned up, pressing his mouth to the side of Gerard’s neck, feeling the quick pulse there beneath his lips. He kissed once, twice, then again, slower this time, tasting salt and warmth and Gerard. The sensation went straight to his head.

He trailed upward, brushing his lips along the sharp curve of Gerard’s jaw, tracing every edge and hollow like he was trying to memorize it. By the time he reached Gerard’s temple, his breathing had gone uneven too. A few stray curls had come loose, sticking to Gerard’s damp forehead, Frank brushed them aside with his nose before pressing one last kiss there, gentle and lingering.

Frank didn’t bother holding back anymore, gone were the days of stifling sounds into pillows or biting his knuckles like some guilty teenager afraid of getting caught. He’d grown out of that. Now, he let every noise spill freely from his lips, low and rough and utterly unapologetic, especially when his dick pressed on a specific tight spot inside Gerard. They moved together in sync just how they are used to, Gerard’s cock now squeezed between their fronts and leaking precum. He leaned in close, his breath hot against Gerard’s ear, murmuring a mix of half-formed words and shameless profanities, each one laced with affection and want. It was messy and honest.

Frank eyed the sight, brows furrowed and mouth hanging open in pleasure, not helping himself in getting a hold of Gerard’s dick, squeezing the head and feeling how Gerard’s whole body vibrated with want. Their eyes met, brief, breathless, and burning, and then they collided in a kiss that barely resembled kissing at all. It was all tongue and heat, the soft drag of mouths missing more than they landed, panting against each other’s lips like they couldn’t figure out where one ended and the other began. It was chaotic, a little gross, and completely perfect.

God, it felt so good.

Frank lived for this kind of closeness, not just the physical heat, but the way everything between them stayed so unfiltered. Every time they touched like this, it felt like a continuation of the same conversation they’d been having since the moment they first fell in love. Messy. Honest. Sacred in its own weird, sweaty way.

He loved that nothing ever felt performative with Gerard. Their intimacy was always raw, always real, like the connection between them couldn’t be helped, like it just was. No pretending or distance.

They didn’t really care about getting sweaty or messy with it, and that just made everything feel even more electric. Frank loved how they moved together, perfectly in sync, their breaths catching at the same moments like they were two halves of the same whole. He especially loved seeing Gerard grow more confident every day, no longer hiding the pleasure he was feeling. That pride inside Frank swelled, because, yeah, he was the one responsible for it. He WAS good in bed, okay?????

At a particularly hard thrust from Frank and a singular motion on the head of Gerard’s dick the boy came all over them, sticky cum painting their bodies. Frank whistled at the volume of it, Gerard just smiled with his cheeks burning.

“It’s been a while…”

Frank calmed down, even if he didn’t get to finish yet, nestled inside his boyfriend’s body with his member still throbbing with want. He got fond with it, the closeness, the warmth, the way Gerard fit so easily against him, everything messing with his head. Frank’s hands wandered up and down his sides in slow, lazy strokes, careful not to move too much since Gerard was still sensitive from his orgasm.

“How come it only gets better?”

Gerard, in his drowsy state, didn't really process the question. “What gets better?”

“The sex, dummy.”

Gerard hummed thoughtfully. “Oh, I kinda miss the days when you came in like three seconds, but this is really nice too.”

Frank laughed, not even offended, their first time always a treasured memory tucked safely away in the back of his mind. He pressed a soft kiss to the tip of Gerard’s nose.

“Just give me a minute, I’ll get you off.” Gerard said, catching his breath.

Frank hummed and nosed all around Gerard’s clammy face. “Take your time, love.”

Just as they were basking in that rare, perfect silence only truly good sex could gift, a comfortable, breathless stillness, Gerard’s phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand.

Mom.

Both of them froze, still tangled and naked, the sound slicing through the quiet like an alarm. Panic bloomed in their eyes simultaneously.

“C’mon, pick it up,” Frank whispered urgently, as if the person on the other end might actually hear him.

“What? You’re literally still inside me, I’m not gonna talk to Mom like this!” Gerard hissed back.

The phone stopped ringing, but only for a moment before it started again.

“Just pick it up, Gee! She’ll be way more suspicious if you don’t say anything.”

Gerard sighed, finally snatching the phone from the nightstand, signaling Frank to be quiet.

“Gerard?” His mother’s voice came through, sharp and expectant.

Gerard cleared his throat, trying to sound casual. “Hey, Mom.”

“Why didn’t you answer on the first ring?”

“I was... busy.”

“Doing what? You don’t have classes today.”

Frank, lying back on the bed and listening in, rolled his eyes so hard they almost got stuck. Gerard’s mom was a certified pain in the ass.

“...studying?” Gerard offered weakly.

“You go to art school, you don’t study,” she said flatly. “Anyway, I’m passing by campus right now, figured I’d bring some of your things over. I’ll be there in about five minutes.”

Frank's eyes widened in surprise and Gerard's gaze mimicked his. Without missing a beat, Gerard tried to stand, but his legs buckled beneath him, trembling like a newborn deer learning to walk. He staggered and collapsed onto the floor with a grunt. Frank winced, then quickly scrambled over to help him up, biting back an innocent laugh as he offered a hand.

“What was that?”

“Just… my book fell.”

“Okay, it’ll be quick. See you soon.”

The call ended, leaving the room thick with tension. They exchanged glances, equal parts distress. Gerard was the first to regain coherent thoughts.

“Grab some of my clothes from the wardrobe and hide in the bathroom!” he ordered.

Frank obeyed, darting to the closet while Gerard quickly dressed himself. He tucked Frank’s clothes under the comforter of his unmade bed and wiped the sweat from his face with Frank’s t-shirt, hoping the smaller boy wouldn’t mind it. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

Gerard caught his reflection in the mirror. He hoped his mom wouldn’t notice he looked like he’d just fought a bear, or worse, like he’d just had intense, sinful gay sex. After fully dressed, Gerard knocked on the bathroom door to check on Frank.

“You okay in there?” Gerard called out.

“Yeah,” came the muffled reply. “Your clothes are just way too big on me.”

Gerard smiled to himself, picturing the adorable sight, Frank swimming in his oversized shirt, probably trying not to melt in the heat.

“Just stay put until she leaves. If she asks about the bathroom being closed, I’ll tell her it’s too messy or something.”

“Okay, okay. Just don’t take too long, it’s fucking hot in here.”

Gerard’s mother’s visit was brief, almost as if being in the presence of her son was her own personal torment. She grumbled about the mess, even though the room was about as clean as Gerard could keep it. He’d always been meticulous about his space, doing his best to keep it livable and tidy.

The woman padded around the floor, her eyes searching for more things to complain about. Next on her list was the unmade bed.

“How do you live like this? Do you just lie here all day?”

Before Gerard could stop her, she was already trying to straighten the comforter and pillows, only to uncover the pile of Frank’s clothes tucked beneath it. She poked at the skinny black jeans with her fingertips, a look of mild disgust crossing her face.

“Aren’t these pants too small for you?”

Gerard took a breath, relieved she hadn’t realized they weren’t his. “They’re really stretchy!”

She hummed, turning her attention to the band tee, crumpled and sweat-stained. She didn’t bother touching it, just pointed.

“Is this yours?”

Gerard just nodded.

“Do you listen to this… demonic stuff? God help you. Is this some influence that kid has on you? What’s his name? Francis?”

“Frankie. Yeah, he shows me some bands sometimes.”

“Ugh, I already told you to stop hanging out with that boy. He’s a bad influence on you. I wish I could go back in time and not let you two room together.”

Inside the bathroom, Frank sat on the sink with his feet dangling off the edge, Gerard’s oversized clothes swallowing him whole. He could hear every word. His eyes burned, tears threatening to spill over as he thought about how much he wished Gerard’s mother could be supportive, like his own mom was. How he longed to hold hands in front of her, to stay over on weekends, to really get to know the family that had shaped Gerard.

Frank stubbornly wiped the tears stinging his eyes away. He couldn’t bring himself to hate her, not when she was the one who’d brought the person he held so close to his heart into this world. Still, it hurt.

After what felt like a thousand comments about how Gerard was supposedly ruining his life, the coast was finally clear. Frank stepped out of the bathroom, still dressed in Gerard’s oversized clothes, the fabric clinging awkwardly to his smaller frame.

The moment he saw Gerard, he couldn’t hold it in any longer. The tears he’d been holding back broke free as he all but collapsed into Gerard’s arms. Gerard caught him easily, pulling him in tight. His hands found their way to Frank’s hair, stroking gently, his touch a silent reassurance.

“Why does she treat you like that?” Frank whispered, voice shaking. “It’s so painful to me.”

Gerard shushed him softly. He knew his mom was difficult, always had been. She had a knack for cutting people down with a smile on her face. But after years of it, he’d grown used to her snide remarks, the constant criticism, the way she always made him feel a little too small.

“It’s okay, Frankie,” he murmured. “I don’t really mind it anymore.”

Eventually, once Frank had calmed down, they curled up together on the bed, still warm with the lingering heat of the day, and now filled with quiet laughter. They found comfort in the familiar rhythm of being close, letting the tension from earlier dissolve into soft jokes and whispered nonsense. The whole ordeal with Gerard’s mom slowly faded behind them, replaced by the simple joy of being together.

They lay on their sides, facing one another, bodies gently tangled. Frank’s hand rested on Gerard’s hip, his fingers moving in idle, affectionate strokes. That’s when he felt something in Gerard’s pocket.

With nothing more in mind than getting his boyfriend more comfortable, Frank reached into Gerard’s pocket, fingers brushing against what felt like a crumpled piece of paper. Curious, and without really thinking, he pulled it out.

A name.
A phone number.
Scribbled in messy handwriting.
Bruce.

Frank blinked at the name, holding it up between two fingers. “Bruce, huh?”

Gerard glanced at it and rolled his eyes fondly. “Just some dude from the party. He seemed nice.”

Frank squinted. “Was he, like... hitting on you, though?”

“I mean... maybe a little?” Gerard shrugged. “I’m not used to people flirting with me, so I wouldn’t know.”

Frank wasn’t mad. Not really. He knew Gerard was hot, and of course people were going to flirt with him. Still, that didn’t stop the tiny pang of jealousy from twisting in his gut.

“Cut the crap, Gee. The guy literally gave you his number, he was hitting on you.”

Gerard rolled his eyes again, still smiling. “Okay, yeah, he was.”

Frank narrowed his eyes playfully. “Should I be worried?”

“Nah,” Gerard said with a lazy grin. “Don’t think he could fuck me like you do.”

Frank snorted. “You sound like one of those drunk girls at the party.”

“I’m just saying... I bagged the guy everyone wants a taste of. Pretty impressive, huh?”

Frank leaned in and kissed him, lips soft but smug. “Well, apparently I’m not the only one everyone wants. Bruce wants a piece of you too.”

Gerard laughed, his whole body shaking against Frank’s. “Oh my God, you’re actually jealous!” Gerard added innocently.

Frank immediately pulled back. “If this Bruce guy ever tries something, I swear I’ll break his nose and both of his arms.”

Gerard was practically wheezing now. Jealous Frank was a new development, and honestly, kind of a hot one. Gerard’s mind was already slipping into less-than-innocent territory. He gazed up at Frank, catching that flicker of jealousy still lingering in those light eyes, and yeah, it was definitely doing something to him.

He smoothed a hand down Frank’s thigh, still clothed in borrowed fabric. The touch was slow, casual, but deliberate. He couldn’t help but enjoy the way Frank got all overprotective. It was hot, in a completely unfair way. And to be fair... Bruce had been flirting with him, so the reaction wasn’t exactly uncalled for.

“Fuck me again and I’ll forget all about him.” Gerard murmured, his voice low and teasing.

Frank rolled his eyes. “Oh, shut up.” But the little smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him.

Next thing Gerard knew, Frank was on top of him again, his weight, his warmth, his everything pressing close, and that crumpled piece of paper? Forgotten somewhere between the sheets.

Weeks passed quietly, slipping by in a blur of classes, projects, and late-night sketching sessions. Gerard was working hard on his first major assignments, pouring himself into them with the kind of focus that came from finally doing something he genuinely loved. He kept a steady pace, always making sure his professors approved of his work, never half-assing a thing.

He didn’t really venture out to any more parties. He just decided they weren’t really his thing. Instead, he preferred quiet nights in his dorm, occasional group study sessions, or visiting the student art galleries that popped up around campus.

Frank, meanwhile, had started tattooing real people, no more practice skins and only administrative work. His confidence was growing alongside his skill, and Gerard was endlessly proud. Ray was always nearby, balancing his time between working the register at the parlor and his other job at the quaint flower shop down the street, which Gerard secretly thought fit Ray’s energy perfectly.

Life had settled into something... good.

Gerard felt it in his bones, he was happy. Actually happy. Not the temporary, performative kind he used to chase in high school, but the kind that came from feeling aligned with who you were and who you were becoming.

He still spent weekends with Frank. Sometimes they’d hang around campus, other times they'd help Ray close the shop on Friday nights. Mikey dropped by now and then, too, and they’d stay up until 2 a.m. discussing horror movies like it was still summer break.

The party (that party!) had become a faint memory. It had been fun, but not life-changing, and the whole Bruce-flirting situation had long since slipped out of his mental spotlight. There were simply better, more meaningful things to focus on now.

So when he passed the man again one afternoon, on his way to a lecture, the wave of recognition caught him off guard.

Bruce was sitting on a bench just outside one of the campus buildings, cigarette perched between two fingers, sunglasses on despite the overcast sky. He noticed Gerard immediately and gave him a small wave.

Gerard’s heart skipped, just slightly.

He did look good. Tall, relaxed, and easy on the eyes.

And there was nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all. People were allowed to look good. Gerard was in a relationship, one he cherished deeply, and he loved Frank. Fully. Faithfully. But that didn’t mean he’d suddenly gone blind.

Bruce was attractive. It was fine to notice. Totally fine.

...Right?

The guy waved him over with a relaxed flick of his wrist, exhaling a slow stream of smoke that curled lazily around him.

“Hey! Gerard, right? Thought you’d call me,” he said with a teasing smile, clearly aware that the comment alone was enough to send heat rushing up Gerard’s neck.

“I… I… sorry.”

Without the cushion of party music or cheap alcohol, Gerard was once again reduced to the version of himself he knew best: nervous, fumbling, socially awkward. He barely managed to get the words out, stuttering like it was a second language.

Bruce chuckled. “Nah, it’s cool. A pretty guy like you must collect phone numbers anyway, right?”

He wasn’t right. Not even close.

Most people in Gerard’s orbit knew he was seriously taken. Frank was practically woven into his daily routine, his conversation, his future. And sure, his mom didn’t know about any of that, but everyone else? They knew. There wasn’t exactly a line of people throwing themselves at Gerard. In fact, Bruce was kind of… the first.

Frank hadn’t even really flirted with him back when it all started. Things had just happened. One minute they were friendly acquaintances, the next they were laughing too hard at 1 a.m., and not long after that, sneaking kisses past curfew. It was natural, comfortable and effortless.

Maybe too effortless.

And that’s what made this moment with Bruce feel so strange.

Bruce’s smile lingered, like he knew exactly the kind of effect he had. He leaned back on the bench, legs stretched out, cigarette balanced between two fingers as he looked Gerard over, not in a creepy way, but definitely in a way.

It was a weird feeling, to be wanted. Not just loved and safe and known, like he was with Frank. But pursued. Desired by someone who didn’t owe him anything. Someone who didn’t know his favorite movies, or what his laugh sounded like, or how he slept curled up like a cat.

Someone who wanted him anyway.

And that was… confusing.

“Not really, no…” Gerard mumbled, waving him off with a small, awkward hand gesture.

Bruce grinned. “Oh? So I’ve got a chance, then?”

Oh God… what?

Gerard’s brain stalled, his thoughts tripping over themselves like startled birds. He wasn’t used to this, being flirted with so openly and confidently. Frank was confident too, sure, but it was a different kind. With Frank, there were layers of nervous laughter, second-guessing, blushing cheeks. It was sweet, endearing, and Gerard loved that about him.

But Bruce?

Bruce looked like he’d never blushed in his life. Like he could walk through fire and come out with that same easy smirk. He was cool in a way Gerard could never imagine being, and the fact that he was out here, in broad daylight, casually laying his interest on the table like it was nothing?

Yeah. That was doing something to Gerard.

And okay, he wasn’t naïve, he doubted Bruce was trying to start a relationship or talk about feelings. The vibe was clear, he probably just wanted to get into Gerard’s pants. But still, there was something about being wanted like that, unapologetically, out loud, no hesitation, that was shaking something loose inside him.

Not necessarily something bad. Just… unexpected.

Gerard stuttered something that wasn’t much of an answer, more breath than words, and Bruce seemed to take that as an invitation. He stood up slowly, flicking his cigarette to the ground and stepping a little closer.

“Am I making you nervous?” he asked, his voice low, almost amused.

They weren’t even standing that close, but Gerard could feel the heat rolling off him, the smell of cigarettes and masculine cologne oozing off his body. Intense in a way that made Gerard’s skin prickle.

It was too much.

“I-I- have to go. Sorry.”

The words came out fast, clumsy, and before Bruce could say anything else, Gerard turned and walked away. Fast. Heart pounding in his chest like it was trying to escape with him.
His cheeks were burning, his hands were shaking, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why that had gotten to him so much.

What was happening to him?

That night, Gerard sat on the small desk at the entrance of the tattoo parlor, legs tucked under him as he chatted casually with Ray. The shop was quieting down, just a few minutes from closing. In front of them, behind the glass doors, the street hummed softly with the sound of late-night city life.

Inside, Frank was wrapping up a small tattoo on a girl’s side, some dainty design she’d pointed to on the wall earlier, all giggles and tossed hair. Gerard had noticed the second she walked in. She was clearly more interested in the artist than the art.

He’d rolled his eyes at it, not even trying to hide it from Ray.

Frank, for his part, was being professional, gentle, careful, focused. And Gerard was proud of him. Really. He loved watching Frank work. The way his hands moved with such precision, how serious he got when it came to something he cared about.

But God, did tattoos have to be so intimate?

Someone letting you inflict pain on them, something permanent, personal and meaningful. All that skin. All that quiet, focused touch. Gerard couldn’t help but wonder if the girl had kept her bra on. He really, really hoped she had.

He shook the thought away. It wasn’t Frank’s fault. He was doing his job.

No, the problem was Gerard.

Because while he sat here, fuming over someone who was likely just a flirt, he’d spent the afternoon practically running away from another guy who had flirted with him. And worse, his heart had raced. His skin had prickled. His thoughts had spiraled.

And that wasn’t Frank’s fault either.

Gerard trusted Frank. Fully.

He just wasn’t so sure if Frank could still trust him.

Ray, ever the sweetheart, was just trying to make small talk, completely unaware of the quiet storm brewing in Gerard’s head.

“So, any new acquaintances? How are people in art school?”

Gerard blinked out of his thoughts and offered a tight smile. “They’re nice. Very different from high school, though.”

“I figured. You and Frankie went to that super strict school, right?”

“Well, yeah. I only transferred there in senior year, but most of the places I’d been before weren’t that different. All rules, no personality.”

Ray nodded, clearly invested. But Gerard wasn’t. Not really.

Because through the half-closed door, he could still hear Frank. Laughing. With the client. The girl.

She kept moving away from the needle, which made Frank tease her lightly in that voice he always used when he was trying to put someone at ease. It wasn’t flirtatious, but something about the way she laughed back was sticking in Gerard’s chest like a thumbtack.

He knew it was irrational. He also didn’t care.

He knew Frank still found girls attractive. They’d talked about it. It wasn’t a secret. But what if this particular girl was making Frank’s heart beat a little faster, just like Bruce had done to him?

Gerard didn’t know what came over him, but a sour little demonic voice in his head whispered to get back at Frank. For what? He couldn’t even answer that. Frank had done nothing wrong. Still, Gerard opened his mouth.

“I made one new friend, though.”

Ray perked up. “Oh, nice! What are they like?”

“He’s tall,” Gerard said first, casually, but with sharp precision. It was petty, and he knew it. Frank’s height wasn’t something either of them brought up often if it wasn’t a lighthearted joke. It was a sore spot.

He didn’t take it back.

“Long hair. Wears leather jackets. Kinda gives off that cool, brooding vibe.”

Ray raised his eyebrows, hesitating slightly. “Sounds… intense.”

Through the wall, Gerard heard a small “Ow!” followed by Frank apologizing for pressing the needle too hard. That’s when Gerard knew for sure that he’d been heard. And the way he’d said it? It landed.

“Seems cool,” Ray offered. “What else?”

What else?

Gerard didn’t even know Bruce. He wasn’t saying any of this for Ray. It wasn’t conversation. It was a message. A jab. A petty, selfish attempt to make Frank feel a little of the chaos that had been swirling in Gerard’s own chest all afternoon.

And for what?

He knew better. Frank always made him feel wanted. Always had. Gerard just… wanted more of it today. Needed it, actually. But instead of saying that, of letting himself be soft, or vulnerable, or even honest, he’d decided to take a swipe at something Frank couldn’t even control. He already felt guilty.

Gerard knew relationships were supposed to be safe places for honesty. That love meant sharing your needs and your fears and even your ugliest, messiest feelings. He knew if he told Frank what was going on in his head, his boyfriend would sit him down, hold his face in his hands, and reassure him for hours without hesitation.

But asking for comfort made him feel needy. Weak. Like a hassle to be managed.

So instead, he acted like an idiot.

When the session finally ended, Frank carefully wrapped the new tattoo in a layer of protective plastic, talking the girl through aftercare instructions in his usual soft, patient tone. They stepped out of the room together, her voice still a bit bubbly from the nerves and adrenaline.

“Thank you so much,” she said, smiling wide. “You’re really… thoughtful. Like, careful. I didn’t expect that.”

Frank chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, it’s going on your body forever. Least I can do is make it a good experience.”

She lingered, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, clearly trying to summon up the last bit of her courage. “I was wondering if… I could have your number?”

Frank blinked, visibly caught off guard. His cheeks dusted pink, and he let out a little laugh, not unkind, just surprised.

“Oh! Uh… thank you, but I don’t give my personal number to clients,” he said gently. “And… I’m happily taken, sorry.”

He smiled with soft sincerity, aware that rejection always stung, especially when you’d put yourself out there.

“Oh god, I’m so embarrassed now,” she groaned, half-laughing, half-hiding behind her hands.

“No, no, don’t be!” Frank reassured, gently pressing a hand to the small of her back as he turned her toward the front of the shop. “Actually… see that guy over there? Short black hair, dressed like a vampire?”

The girl followed his gaze toward the front of the shop. Gerard and Ray were sitting side-by-side, but Gerard’s eyes were laser-focused, locked onto them.

“That’s my boyfriend,” Frank said, grinning with something just shy of awe. “I lucked out, huh?”

The girl softened, smiling back at him. “You really did.”

“Thanks again for coming in,” Frank said as she gathered her things. “If you have any questions about healing, call the shop anytime. If I’m not around, one of the guys will help you out.”

She nodded, waved, and left with a sweet smile that held no bitterness. Gerard had caught the entire thing.

Ray was still mid-sentence, saying something about floral arrangements or maybe a new playlist, but Gerard wasn’t listening anymore.

He watched as Frank turned toward him, that familiar warm smile already tugging at the corners of his mouth, and in that moment, Gerard’s jealousy melted into something softer. Warmer. He felt full, seen, and so stupidly in love. And also… incredibly guilty.

Because while Frank had been turning down phone numbers with nothing but grace and love, Gerard had been weaponizing one.

“Hi guys! So, ready to close?”

The three of them moved around the shop with practiced ease, wiping down counters and resetting stations, making sure everything was tidy for the opening crew tomorrow. Ray waved goodbye as he headed for his car, leaving Frank and Gerard to finish locking up.

Outside, Frank lit a cigarette, the flame briefly illuminating his face as he leaned back against the hood of his mom’s car. Gerard stood nearby, quiet. Too quiet.

They got in, Frank in the driver’s seat, Gerard still pouting in the passenger seat, arms crossed, gaze fixed out the window like it had personally offended him.

Frank turned the key in the ignition, headlights flicking on, then Gerard finally broke the silence.

“Did you see her boobs?”

Frank froze, hands still on the wheel. He turned slowly, blinking at Gerard like he’d grown a second head. “What the fuck?”

Gerard didn’t elaborate. He just gave Frank a look, a sharp little raise of the eyebrows that said, “Well?”

“…Whose boobs?”

“The girl who just left. Did you see her boobs?”

Frank frowned. “No? We always tell clients to cover up with their own clothes or we tape the area off– where is this coming from?”

Gerard shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. His mouth opened like he might explain, but then closed again.

Frank leaned his head back against the seat, sighing. “Okay… so this is about that guy, huh? That’s why you were doing the whole “tall guy with a leather jacket” routine with Ray?”

Still, Gerard said nothing.

“Gee, talk to me. If something’s bothering you, I’d rather know than sit here guessing.”

There was a long pause before Gerard muttered, “Just drop me off.”

Frank blinked again. “What? I told my mom you’d probably stay the night…”

That was the plan. It was always the plan, because Fridays meant homemade food, Pancake barking politely at the door, and warm blankets on the couch. Frank had been looking forward to it all week.

Gerard hesitated. The invitation made his chest ache in the best way. He wanted that comfort, that safety. But his own thoughts were still tangled and messy in a loud way.

“Maybe tomorrow…”

Frank’s face dropped, and it hit Gerard right in the chest. “Are you sure? We could cuddle, watch a movie, pass out halfway through like we always do… I… I was really looking forward to being close to you today.”

And there it was, so soft, so honest. Frank had no walls when it came to Gerard. He said what he felt, what he wanted, without shame. He wanted him. Missed him. Needed him. Gerard stared at his boyfriend, guilt pressing heavy on his ribs.

He'd spent the whole afternoon trying to stir up jealousy, trying to get a reaction, when Frank had spent the whole day just being good to him. Loving him out loud. Being proud of him, even when Gerard didn’t feel very deserving of it.

He didn’t say anything. He just looked down at his hands, and for a moment, he felt like the worst person in the world.

“Not really feeling like it…”

Frank didn’t know what to do with that. He knew Gerard could take a while to open up, could get in his own head sometimes, but it was always a mystery when to push or when to let things breathe. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if physical touch would be welcome. But his instincts won out, he was naturally affectionate, and his hand found its way gently to Gerard’s thigh. A quiet offer of comfort.

“Will you tell me what’s wrong tomorrow?”

“I’ll try.”

And that was good enough. Not everything had to be solved tonight. Frank let his hand fall back to his side and started the car. The ride was quiet, both of them lost in thought as the city passed them by in a blur of headlights and streetlamps. Ten minutes later, they pulled up in front of Gerard’s dorm.

The engine cut out, and the silence that followed felt heavier.

“Thanks, Frankie,” Gerard said quietly. “Sorry I’m being so difficult today. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

Frank smiled softly, turning toward him. “It’s okay. We all have those days.”

“I promise we’ll talk tomorrow.”

Frank nodded, accepting it.

And then, before Frank could say it, Gerard beat him to it.

“I love you.”

A quiet smile tugged at Frank’s lips. “I love you too. Even if you’re, like, weirdly jealous about me seeing boobs.”

Gerard rolled his eyes, but there was no real annoyance there, just affection. He leaned in and gave Frank a quick kiss on the cheek, fingers brushing against his hand in a silent goodbye before stepping out of the car.

Frank watched him walk toward the building, dark hoodie pulled up, hands in his pockets.

The drive back home was short, but Frank decided to go slowly this time. The silence in the car was oddly comforting, the kind that let him think too much. He kept his eyes on the road, letting the blur of familiar buildings and streetlights wash over him. Only now did he realize how loudly his stomach was grumbling, he hadn't eaten much all day, and he was more than ready for his mom’s cooking.

She greeted him gently at the door, pulling him into a warm hug.

“Hi sweetheart,” she said softly, “How was your day?”

Frank shrugged, kicking off his shoes. “It was alright.”

They had dinner together at the kitchen table, casual conversation flowing between them as Pancake did her usual thing, hovering under the table like the polite little beggar she was. Frank dropped a scrap down for her and watched the little tail wag in thanks.

But the longer they sat, the more Frank felt it building up. The ache in his chest. The questions. The overthinking. He couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Mom, there’s something bothering me…”

She looked up from her plate immediately, her expression softening. “Oh? What’s going on, Frankie?”

Frank hesitated, pushing food around on his plate. “Gerard’s been a bit… distant.”

“How so?”

“I’m not sure. He was supposed to sleep over tonight, but he wanted to go back to his dorm instead. And he didn’t really say why.”

His mom took a quiet breath. “Maybe he’s just tired. We all need alone time sometimes.”

“Yeah… I guess,” Frank muttered, then sighed. “I don’t know. Am I too clingy? Maybe he doesn’t like me all over him all the time.”

“Did you ask him that?”

“I tried talking to him, but…” Frank frowned. “He was acting weird. Kinda overprotective, but also distant? And he keeps talking about this guy from college… Bruce.”

Her eyebrows lifted slightly. “Bruce?”

Frank rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Tall, long hair, leather jacket. You know, the opposite of me.” He let out a nervous chuckle, but there wasn’t much humor in it.

His mom placed her hand gently on top of his. “Well Frankie, you know what I always tell you, communication is the best way to get through things like this. Maybe he doesn’t feel ready to talk now, but make sure you’re both honest with each other. That’s how you build trust.”

“I mean, I don’t exactly have a filter with him,” Frank admitted with a small smile. “I kinda just blurted out that I really wanted to cuddle him to sleep tonight.” He giggled a little, suddenly shy at having said that out loud to his mom.

But she only smiled wider, her eyes warm. “I think that’s sweet. And I’m sure Gerard does too. Just give him a little space if he needs it. He’ll come around, he clearly cares about you a lot.”

“He was also really weird about me seeing boobs.”

His mother froze mid-bite, slowly looking up from her plate. “I’m… not following.”

Frank laughed, realizing he’d skipped over a lot of context. “Right, sorry. I had a client today, this girl, pretty young, she wanted a tattoo on her ribs. After the appointment, Gerard was like, ‘Did you see her boobs?’ Like, what? It was so random.”

She tilted her head, half amused. “Well… did you?”

“No! Oh my God, you and him both! You’re crazy!” Frank threw his hands up dramatically.

They both burst out laughing.

“Maybe he’s just a little jealous,” his mom said, grinning. “But he needs to understand this is your work and that you take it seriously… I hope.” She narrowed her eyes in mock suspicion.

“Actually, no,” Frank said, deadpan. “Sorry to tell you, Mom, but I only got into tattooing for the boobs. That’s it.”

The rest of dinner went by peacefully, comfortable silences when needed, and laughter shared over funny stories from both sides. Frank was grateful for this, for the quiet love that came so easily in his mother’s presence. After all those years in that cold, lifeless boarding school, it felt like healing just to be here again. The walls of his childhood home may not have been perfect, but they were warm. Full of life. Full of her.

He helped out in the kitchen without being asked, drying plates while his mom hummed some old song he half-remembered. Eventually, she shooed him off gently, telling him to go upstairs and rest. “You’ve had a long day,” she reminded him, “and your neck’s already sore. Go take care of yourself, sweetheart.”

Frank pressed a soft kiss to her forehead in thanks before heading to his room. He sighed as he stepped inside, not even bothering to change out of his day clothes before collapsing onto the bed. His eyes wandered to the plush bat waiting for him on the pillow, right beside Mr. Snuggles.

He smiled, pulling the bat into his arms and nestling against it.

Frank faintly remembered the time he referred to both the stuffed animals as “their sons” with mock seriousness, and Gerard had laughed so hard. Frank missed him already. His room felt too quiet without Gerard’s muttered song lyrics, without the occasional thump of him kicking the blanket off in his sleep. All those nights sharing a bed in high school had spoiled Frank, done irreparable damage to his need for nighttime cuddles. Now, he couldn’t fall asleep properly unless he was spooning Gerard.

His mind wandered again. He hoped Gerard was okay. They always found their way back to each other, right? They’d already been through so much, awkward confessions, late-night breakdowns, stolen kisses behind closed doors. This was just another bump in the road. But Frank still worried for them, he couldn’t just not worry. They haven’t actually been together for that long, even if it sometimes felt like a lifetime, and they’d known each other since their past lives.

However, Frank figured that’s what growing up together was like. Learning to communicate better, figuring out your fears, discovering who you were, and doing your best not to hurt each other along the way.

As his eyes scanned the room, Frank’s gaze landed on the old magic 8-ball sitting crooked on his desk. He scoffed. No way. Was he really about to do what just crossed his mind Absolutely not. That thing hadn’t been touched since seventh grade, and for good reason. It was a stupid toy, a relic of middle school drama and cafeteria dares.

Still…

Frank glanced down at the plush bat cradled in his arms. It stared up at him with beady innocence, and Frank narrowed his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that…”

He sighed, long, drawn-out, full of reluctant surrender, and stood up. Within seconds, he was at his desk, fingers wrapping around the plastic sphere.

“This is so dumb,” he muttered, giving it a good shake anyway. “Is Gerard cheating on me?”

The murky triangle floated to the surface.

SIGNS POINT TO YES

Frank blinked. “What the fuck?”

He shook it again, a little harder this time, as if he could rattle the truth out of it.

AS I SEE IT, YES

“Shut up,” Frank hissed at the ball, chucking it lightly back onto the desk. It rolled and bumped into a pencil case like it had an attitude. He ran a hand down his face and sighed again, longer this time.

He thought about how ridiculous the whole ordeal was. Of course Gerard wasn’t cheating on him. He was just anxious and overtired and maybe a little sensitive after the weird vibe between them earlier.

Frank had outright decided this moment would go with him to the grave. With a tired sigh, he stripped out of his clothes, unwilling to wear anything that had touched the outside world under his bedsheets. Too exhausted for pajamas, too picky for jeans under the covers, he settled in wearing only his underwear, the familiar weight of his blanket offering a small sense of peace.

He curled himself around the little bat plush, cradling it close to his chest like something sacred. In a barely audible whisper, he pressed a quiet prayer into its fuzzy ear, asking in it to keep Gerard safe. To help guide them back to each other, even after the weird tension and half-finished words from earlier. To make everything okay again.

By the morning, Frank’s mom was on the couch with Pancake curled up beside her. It was just past 8 a.m., and the early sun bled softly through the curtains. She had the news on low, half-listening while crocheting the beginning of a new blanket. Pancake wasn’t helping, of course, just occasionally sighing, nudging her hand with her nose when the stitches paused too long for her taste.

The sudden ding-dong of the doorbell broke the stillness. She raised a brow, visitors weren’t really a common occurrence, especially not this early on a Saturday.

When she opened the door, she wasn’t exactly surprised to find Gerard standing on the porch. He looked slightly windswept, a backpack slung half-heartedly over one shoulder, and he kept shifting his weight like he wasn’t sure if he should be there.

“Oh, Gerard! What a surprise. Frank’s going to be happy you’re here, come in!”

“Good morning, Miss Iero,” Gerard smiled politely. “Sorry I didn’t stay over last night… I had some things to finish back at the dorm.”

She smiled back, ushering him inside with a warm wave of her hand. “No worries at all, sweetheart. Come in, it’s chilly out.”

Even if she knew that wasn’t the real reason, she let it slide. Gerard looked a little like he hadn’t slept much. And she could still hear Frank’s quiet worries from last night echoing in her memory. But she also knew enough not to meddle.

Frank’s mother, ever the gracious host even at this early hour, offered Gerard a cup of coffee as soon as he stepped into the kitchen. He accepted with a polite smile, grateful for both the warmth of the mug and the temporary distraction from the nerves still prickling at his skin.

They sat across from each other at the small kitchen table, where the smell of brewing coffee mixed pleasantly with the faint scent of fabric softener lingering in the air. The conversation flowed easily enough, Frank’s mom was a natural at making people feel at ease, and Gerard had grown fond of her in the same quiet way he grew fond of good art or soft sweaters. He spoke about his new classes, about projects that had either gone beautifully or horribly wrong, about the curious collection of people one tends to find in the first few months of art school. Frank’s mother listened attentively, clearly delighted to hear about a world so different from her own, nodding and interjecting at all the right moments. If she noticed the flicker of uncertainty in Gerard’s expression from time to time, she didn’t mention it. But she had seen enough to know (intuitively, like most mothers do) that something between the boys was out of rhythm. Still, she didn’t push. She simply offered kindness, a hot beverage, and a place to sit. Sometimes, that was all a person really needed.

When the cups were finally empty and the conversation had run its course, she set her mug down and glanced toward the hallway.

“Well, Frankie’s still asleep,” she said lightly, as though the information was both unsurprising and somehow endearing. “You know the way, of course, but do you want me to take you to his room?”

Gerard hesitated for only a moment before nodding, still a touch shy in his body language despite the countless mornings he’d already spent in this very house. She led him down the familiar hallway and paused in front of Frank’s door, raising her hand to knock gently. There was no answer, only the soft hum of a fan inside and the muted rustle of bedsheets shifting in sleep.

With the careful precision of someone who had done this sort of thing many times before, Frank’s mom eased the door open just a crack, enough to peek in and assess the level of embarrassment her son would experience if they saw what they weren’t supposed to, even if the boys had spent so many months rooming together already. Her expression softened almost instantly.

Inside, Frank was still fully tucked under his comforter, curled up in the center of the bed like a little kid. One arm was draped around the bat plushie Gerard had given him some time ago. The morning light slanted through the curtains just enough to illuminate Frank’s peaceful face, his dark hair a mess across the pillow, brows furrowed ever so slightly. His mother let out a quiet coo, half adoration, half amusement, and turned to Gerard with a small, knowing smile.

“I’ll let you wake him up,” she whispered, already backing out of the doorway. “Maybe he’ll be less grumpy if it’s you.”

Gerard chuckled softly, despite himself. As the door closed behind him, sealing off the quiet of Frank’s room from the rest of the world, he was left standing there, watching the boy he loved sleep soundly with his limbs tangled in sheets and a stuffed animal.

It was a familiar sight. They had shared rooms before, dorms, sleepovers, more recently Frank’s bed whenever Gerard managed to escape the dorms. But this moment felt different. It felt quieter. More intimate, somehow.

Gerard eased down onto his knees beside the bed, his backpack long forgotten by the door, his full attention now captured by the peaceful form of the boy he loved. From this angle, Frank looked small, his features relaxed in deep sleep, his hair a soft mess across the pillow, still tousled from the night.

Carefully, as though touching something sacred, Gerard reached forward and threaded his fingers through the strands of black hair that had fallen in front of Frank’s eyes. He remembered the way Frank had done the same for him, slow and thoughtful, after their fight still in the last month of high school. It had been a quiet gesture of forgiveness, of wanting to stay even when words failed. This was Gerard’s return.

He took his time, letting his hand move in soothing motions, fingers catching gently in soft knots. A familiar scent rose up to meet him, Frank’s shampoo. Gerard smiled to himself, already anticipating the way it would linger on his fingers long after this morning had passed.

His fingers drifted down, brushing over the shell of Frank’s ear, giving it a gentle squeeze. He moved to his cheek, which was still warm and pink from being pressed into the pillow, the faint imprint of the comforter visible against the skin. It was so tender it made Gerard ache.

And there it was, the plush bat. Still tightly hugged to Frank’s chest, its tiny wings poking out from beneath the covers like it was trying to get comfortable, too. Gerard laughed under his breath, nearly inaudible. He really had been a fool the day before. All Frank had wanted was closeness, maybe a little reassurance, and Gerard had pushed him away because of insecurities he didn’t know how to voice.

Frank hadn’t deserved that.

Gerard’s touch wandered again, trailing along the curve of Frank’s jaw and down to the vulnerable slope of his neck. He brushed his thumb across the skin there with reverence, feeling the quiet pulse beneath. That was when Frank stirred.

“...Gee?” The word barely escaped him, croaky and soft, one eye lazily fluttering open while his lips remained slightly parted, dry from sleep.

“Morning, baby,” Gerard whispered, his voice full of quiet affection.

Frank didn’t reply, not in words. Instead, he did the most Frank-thing imaginable, he flipped the comforter up in invitation, wordlessly revealing that he was dressed only in boxer briefs and an overwhelming need to be held.

Gerard blinked. “Well, good morning to you too,” he muttered under his breath, amused and already toeing off his shoes. He hesitated for a second before shimmying out of his jeans, modesty be damned, and climbed in beside Frank, the blankets puffing up as they shifted.

The moment his body touched the mattress, Frank moved instinctively, wrapping himself around Gerard. Their legs tangled naturally, Frank’s bare thighs cool against Gerard’s own. His face buried into the crook of Gerard’s neck with the same urgency someone might have when returning home after a long time away.

“Wanna sleep more…” Frank mumbled, his words slow and heavy with sleep, lips brushing against Gerard’s collarbone.

Gerard smiled, heart melting like butter in a hot pan. He pressed a kiss to Frank’s forehead and didn’t bother replying. Frank’s breathing was already slowing again, his body sinking into Gerard’s hold with full trust.

Gerard wasn’t exactly sure when sleep had claimed him, only that it had done so gently, like a tide washing over tired limbs. He’d simply closed his eyes, inhaled the familiar scent of Frank's bedsheets and the subtle, warm traces of his shampoo, and somewhere between heartbeats, exhaustion had taken hold.

It wasn’t until the light pressure of fingers tracing his face stirred him that he realized the world had gone quiet again.

His eyelids fluttered, still heavy, but he didn’t open them right away. He didn’t need to, not when he could already feel Frank so close, his breath warm and steady against Gerard’s collarbone. The shorter boy’s hand was soft, careful, fingertips mapping over the slope of Gerard’s cheekbone, across his brow, then down along the edge of his jaw as if committing it all to memory.

A low, sleepy sound rumbled from Gerard’s throat. “Hi,” he mumbled, barely above a whisper.

Frank didn’t reply right away. Instead, he lifted himself slightly, propping his weight up on one forearm. Without needing to be asked, he leaned forward and pressed a feather-light kiss to Gerard’s lips, an instinct more than a decision.

The moment passed with no fanfare, no sweeping music or dramatic declarations. Just the quiet intimacy of two boys wrapped in a blanket of understanding, still half-dreaming, half-healing.

And yet, despite the softness of it all, Gerard’s chest felt tight.

There were so many words trapped behind his ribcage, things he needed to explain, to confess, to say out loud before they curdled into guilt. He wanted to tell Frank about the way his mind had twisted itself in knots over things that didn’t matter, how jealousy had gnawed at him like a parasite, how he’d let fear speak louder than love. He wanted to apologize for pulling away, for being unfair, for not saying what he needed when Frank had done nothing but offer himself, wholeheartedly and without hesitation.

But Gerard didn’t know how to start. Not when his throat felt like it was full of glass. Not when Frank was looking at him like that, eyes soft, fingertips still ghosting across his face like he was something precious. The words sat heavy in his chest, trembling with the weight of vulnerability. So instead, he stayed quiet. Let Frank touch him and the moment linger.

Naturally, the topic couldn’t remain buried forever. Silence only stretched so far before it began to crack under the weight of everything left unsaid, and eventually, the two of them found themselves exactly where this sort of conversation always ends up: sitting cross-legged on Frank’s bed, trying to untangle emotions with words they hadn’t yet rehearsed.

Gerard had positioned himself up against the headboard, his back resting stiffly against it like it might support more than just his spine, maybe even his nerves, if he sat up straight enough. A rumpled, oversized t-shirt hung off one shoulder, and the sheets pooled in gentle folds across his lap, offering him a modicum of security in what already felt like an emotionally naked moment.

Frank, by contrast, appeared to be conducting a quiet protest against clothing as a concept. He leaned against the wall at the foot of the bed, utterly unbothered by his state of undress, just boxer-briefs and an attitude, legs lazily stretched out, one foot nudging Gerard’s under the sheets in idle contact. His gaze was soft, affectionate even, though it didn’t miss the growing tension around Gerard’s eyes, the way he was chewing on the inside of his cheek.

The room was quiet save for the distant chirp of birds outside the slightly cracked window and the gentle hum of morning traffic rolling by. That, and the unspoken anticipation waiting between them like a fourth presence in the room.

Gerard finally broke the silence, voice fragile with hesitance.

“Do you… are you, like… attracted to other people?”

He asked it the way someone might ask if their houseplant talks when they’re not looking, tentative, slightly ridiculous, and absolutely terrified of the answer.

Frank didn’t flinch. His expression didn’t shift in the slightest, remaining calm and curious, with just the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes. “I’m going to need you to be a little more specific, love,” he replied evenly, tone light but not dismissive.

Gerard took a moment to gather his thoughts. He traced a wrinkle in the sheets with his index finger like it might hold the answer. “I mean, like… if someone’s in a relationship and they find someone else attractive, is that… wrong?”

At this, Frank hummed thoughtfully and sat up a little straighter, rubbing a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. “That’s a pretty broad question, babe. I think the answer kind of depends on the situation. What are we talking here, celebrity crush or hidden romance?”

Gerard cracked a tired smile, grateful for the levity. “Somewhere in between, maybe?”

Frank didn’t laugh, but his expression softened further, his head tilting slightly like he was trying to peek around Gerard’s words to find the truth hiding behind them.

“You trying to tell me something?” he asked gently, his voice still playful, but his eyes attentive, earnest even.

Gerard looked up finally, locking eyes with him. He saw no judgement there, only patient curiosity and the kind of openness that made his chest ache a little. Frank wasn’t scared. He wasn’t defensive. He was just… present. Waiting.

“I guess… yeah,” Gerard finally admitted, voice quiet, his words barely managing to escape through the tension tightening his throat.

Frank raised an eyebrow, but his tone remained light and inviting. “Then what is it? You know you can tell me anything, right? I swear I’ll try not to bite.”

That earned the faintest huff of a laugh from Gerard, who shook his head, still avoiding direct eye contact.

“I think… I think you already sort of know what this is about. At least a little.”

Frank didn’t press, but his posture adjusted slightly, more attentive now, more grounded. “If this is about that guy from the party, the one who gave you his number, just talk to me about it. What happened? Or better yet, what did you feel?”

Gerard blinked at him. It was one thing to imagine opening up, and another to have the invitation laid out so gently in front of him. The words wavered on the edge of his lips, but for a moment, all he could do was stare at the comforter, where his fingers fidgeted uselessly with the hem of his shirt.

Was he really about to admit to his boyfriend, his endlessly sweet, wildly supportive boyfriend, that some random stranger had managed to shake him? That a few minutes of unwanted-but-not-exactly-unpleasant flirting had left him… breathless?

He swallowed hard. “Confused, mostly. But also…” He paused, then glanced up at Frank. “Like… someone wanted me.”

Frank didn’t look hurt. He didn’t even look surprised. Instead, he gave a thoughtful little hum and nodded, the way he did when listening to someone describe the plot of a movie he’d never seen, but was willing to give a fair shot. “Okay… and did you like that? The being wanted part?”

Gerard hesitated. There was no use sugarcoating it now. They were in the thick of it, and Frank deserved the full truth, no matter how awkward it was to say out loud.

“Yes. And… no.”

Frank tilted his head slightly, encouraging him to keep going without a single word. So Gerard did.

“On one hand, yeah, it was kind of nice. I don’t usually get that kind of attention. I’m not someone people flirt with, or even really see, half the time. Apart from you, of course. And with us…” He exhaled, glancing over at Frank again. “We just sort of… happened. You know? There wasn’t really a ‘flirting’ stage, or that whole awkward tension before a relationship blooms. One day we were friends, and the next my tongue was down your throat.”

Frank grinned at that, his eyes soft with memory.

“But I wouldn’t change any of it,” Gerard added quickly, voice growing firmer. “Not one second. I love you, and that hasn’t changed, not even a little. Actually, it’s surprising how much it keeps growing. Like my brain is just constantly full of you, and there’s no off-switch.”

Frank let out a quiet chuckle, his hand now resting over Gerard’s ankle under the blanket, grounding him.

“But that’s why I started feeling guilty,” Gerard continued, a faint crease forming between his brows. “Because I know I don’t like the guy. I don’t even know him, he could be awful for all I know! But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find him attractive, or that I didn’t like… the way it felt, having someone come onto me like that. Like I was… visible.”

He stopped there, unsure of how it landed. The air in the room felt heavier now, not tense, but fragile, like something delicate had just been set on the table between them, and they were both watching to see if it would stay whole.

“Is there anything else you want to say?” Frank asked gently, though his voice carried a half-laugh, just enough to lighten the mood, even if Gerard couldn’t tell whether it was genuine amusement or a shield. “We’re already pretty much emotionally naked here, physically too, honestly, so might as well go all in. Hit me with it.”

Gerard gave a nervous huff of breath, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “Yeah… okay, actually there is something. But it’s kind of embarrassing.”

Frank just raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Gerard, I’ve seen you in every state of undress, in every compromising position imaginable. I’ve seen you crying with snot running down your nose. There’s not much that can shock me anymore.”

Gerard cracked a reluctant grin, then exhaled again, this time slower. “Alright. Well… it makes me insecure. That people flirt with you. Like, a lot.”

Frank blinked, surprised by the confession, but didn’t interrupt.

“I mean, I know you’re attractive. That’s obvious. You’re kind of stupid hot, actually. I swear to God, back in school, I was one hallway encounter away from falling into a medically induced coma just because my dick wouldn’t leave me alone about you.”

Frank let out a genuine laugh at that, throwing his head back slightly remembering that time. “Please, I’m blushing.”

Gerard smiled faintly, but his tone turned more serious as he continued. “But… yeah. It’s different thinking someone’s attractive in a vague way, versus watching it happen. Like, watching the world agree with you, and then watching it try to take that person from you.”

Frank’s smile faded slightly, not out of offense, but in the way someone softens when they know what’s coming is tender and important.

“There were people at that party who came up to me,” Gerard said, quieter now. “People I didn’t even know, telling me how lucky I was. Asking how you were in bed. Just… openly saying that they wished they had a shot with you. Like I wasn’t even standing there, like you were some fantasy character and not a real person who could love me.”

Frank frowned a little, but waited.

“And then that girl at the shop…” Gerard shook his head, eyes on his lap. “She asked for your number right in front of me. I know you handled it perfectly. You were respectful, you were clear, you even pointed me out as your boyfriend. But… it hit me harder than I expected. Made something in me snap. Not at you exactly, just at… all of it.”

Frank was already reaching out, his hand brushing lightly against Gerard’s.

“And then I was petty,” Gerard admitted, finally looking up to meet Frank’s eyes. “I brought up Bruce with Ray on purpose. I wanted you to hear it. I wanted to make you jealous, which is… stupid, I know. But I was hurt. I was insecure, and I didn’t know how to say, ‘Hey, I’m scared. Please tell me I’m enough.’ So I tried to spark something instead of just being honest. Which is… exactly the opposite of what I should’ve done.”

He let out a breath, the weight of the confession visibly loosening his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” he added, soft and sincere.

Frank didn’t say anything right away. He simply pulled Gerard’s hand fully into his, thumb tracing slow lines over his knuckles, the silence holding everything that needed to be felt before anything more could be said.

“First of all,” Frank began, his voice measured but soft, “thank you for trusting me with all of this. I know opening up like that isn’t easy, even with your boyfriend, even with someone who loves you. So really… thank you.”

Gerard, true to form, couldn’t help himself. “Yeah, you better congratulate me. That was terrifying.” He said, his heart still beating hard inside his chest.

Frank let out a short laugh, eyes crinkling. “Duly noted. You get full emotional bravery points for today.”

He shifted slightly, folding one leg beneath him, glancing down at the blanket between them before continuing. “There’s kind of… a lot to unpack, so I’m gonna toss in my two cents. Maybe three.”

Gerard gave him a little nod, the gesture small but encouraging.

“So, the guy thing, God, I don’t even want to say his name, it feels like a slur to me,” Frank muttered, waving a hand vaguely. “Look. We’re in a relationship, not in denial. It’s normal to find other people attractive from time to time. I mean, we're not blind, and we didn’t take vows of celibate tunnel vision. That said… yeah, I won’t lie. It did make me jealous. But more than that, it made me worried.”

Gerard was quick to cut in, already shaking his head. “Frankie, seriously, I didn’t do anything. I would never, I wouldn’t even think of it.”

Frank smiled warmly at him, the sort of smile that settles something deep in your chest. “I know. I trust you, Gee. And I believe you.”

He reached out, resting a hand gently over Gerard’s knee beneath the sheets. “Like I said, attraction on its own isn’t the enemy. It’s how we handle it. And I think as long as we’re honest with each other and don’t act on those fleeting things, we’re solid. But I need you to promise me something. If something like this ever comes up again, I don’t want you to bottle it up. Don’t spiral in silence. Don’t try to protect me from feelings I’d rather be part of. Just tell me. Whatever it is, even if it’s messy.”

Gerard exhaled, visibly trying to keep his emotions from crowding the moment. “That’s the thing. He was flirting with me, like, blatantly. And for a second, I liked the attention. But I swear, Frank, there was never a moment I considered doing anything about it. It was just… this weird rush, like someone saw me in a way I’m not used to. But even in the middle of that, even with all the confusion, I would never trade what we have for something so… fleeting.”

His gaze softened. “You’re not just my boyfriend, Frankie. You’re my best friend. You know me in ways I don’t even understand myself. This relationship? It’s one of the most valuable things in my life. I mean it, I feel genuinely happy when I’m with you, even if I’m exposing the most embarrassing, ugly parts of my brain. And you actually listen.”

Frank gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s nice to hear that. Seriously.” He paused, expression growing a little more tender. “And about that whole ‘being wanted’ thing? Gerard, I want you. I want to be the guy who makes you feel desirable, and sexy, and seen, every damn day. It honestly hurts a little to know that instead of coming to me for that, you felt like you had to just sit with it. Like you had to go all mysterious and wounded and shut me out until you exploded at poor Ray about a guy in a leather jacket.”

Gerard winced, but Frank grinned at him. “Look, I get it. Vulnerability’s not fun. But I promise, if what you need is for me to wrap myself around you and tell you that you’re hot, amazing, and mine, even if we’re standing in front of an entire convention of girls with objectively enormous and juicy boobs, I’ll do it.”

Gerard let out a huff of laughter, his cheeks finally cracking into a smile. “You’re such a romantic.”

“I try to be,” Frank replied with a playful smirk, already maneuvering his way across the bed until he found a home right on Gerard’s lap, the sheets shifting with him as he settled comfortably in place.

Their lips met in a slow, affectionate kiss, one of those soft, grounding ones that said more than words could manage.

Pulling back just enough to speak, Frank murmured against Gerard’s mouth, “Now, can I show you exactly how wanted you are?”

Gerard didn’t miss a beat. “Please. And I’ll return the favor.”

Frank lit up. “Yay!”

Gerard narrowed his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching upward despite himself. “Okay, no. Never say that again.”

Frank had already started playfully nibbling at the sensitive skin along Gerard’s neck, his lips leaving a trail of gentle kisses in their wake. Meanwhile, Gerard’s hands tentatively made their way to Frank’s waist, but the contact was surprisingly tentative, almost as if he was afraid of making a mistake. Frank, ever perceptive, immediately noticed the delicate nature of the touch and couldn’t help but tease him.

“Come on, don’t be shy now,” Frank said with a mischievous grin. “You’ve got me all to yourself, and that’s how you touch me?”

The playful jab sent a rosy flush creeping up Gerard’s cheeks, his embarrassment palpable. It was clear Frank was reminding him, not unkindly in any way, that he was in a pretty enviable position, one many would gladly trade places for, if given the chance.

Emboldened by the tease, Gerard finally let go of his hesitation, tightening his grip around Frank’s waist and drawing their bodies closer together. The warmth and closeness sparking a low hum of contentment from Frank.

“That’s it, baby.” he murmured approvingly.

Before long, Gerard found himself gently laid back on the bed, their eyes meeting in fleeting, tender glances that always seemed to make room for soft, lingering kisses scattered across Gerard’s face. Frank’s voice softened as he asked with a gentle hesitation, “Mind if I take your shirt off?”. With a shy nod from Gerard, the two soon found themselves clad only in their underwear.

Frank slipped under the covers beside him, careful not to let the warmth become overwhelming. He began planting gentle kisses along Gerard’s hairline, his voice a low murmur filled with affection. “I love running my fingers through your hair,” he confessed, “morning, afternoon, night, it doesn’t matter. You always look amazing, whether it’s short like this or when it falls to your shoulders.” His hands trailed softly through Gerard’s hair as he continued, “I love the way it feels on my skin when you rest your head on my shoulder, or when you spoon me from behind.”

Gerard was already feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sheer weight of affection swirling between them, even if they had just started, but he made an earnest effort to reciprocate. Slowly, his hand reached out to Frank’s hair, fingers weaving gently through the soft strands. “I love your hair too,” he murmured, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “But you already know that, right?”

Frank hummed in response, pressing his nose playfully into Gerard’s dark locks. “No, I don’t. You should tell me more about it,” he teased, his voice warm and inviting.

Gerard giggled, sensing that Frank truly wanted to hear it. “Alright, if you insist. I love how short it is, it suits you perfectly. I also love running my fingers through it, and knowing that I’m the only one you let do it… that means a lot.”

Frank’s lips traced a slow path down Gerard’s cheek, taking his time to kiss every inch of skin he could reach. “I love your entire face,” he confessed softly, making Gerard laugh at the intensity of the declaration. “I love your eyes, especially how they share a color close to mine. That’s some soulmate-level shit, if you ask me. I love your nose, your thin lips, and your smile. God, I wish I could make you smile like that all the time.”

Gerard felt the heat rise to his cheeks, burning with a mixture of embarrassment and delight. Here he was, the hottest guy he knew, who everyone wanted a piece of, laying it all out without a single filter, telling him exactly how much he was desired, how deeply he was loved. It was overwhelming in the best possible way.

“What about me?” Frank asked, his voice soft but tinged with a trace of curiosity.

Gerard knew exactly what he meant. After all the unintentional missteps and the ridiculous attempt to spark jealousy the day before, the very least he could do now was offer Frank some genuine words of reassurance. Sure, Frank probably knew he was attractive, anyone with functioning eyes could figure that out, but it was different coming from someone who loved him. And maybe, Gerard suspected, it mattered even more when it came from him.

“You,” Gerard started, trying to sound serious but already biting back a grin, “have a very handsome facial bone structure.”

Frank immediately burst out laughing, the sound loud and unrestrained as his head tipped back slightly. The motion caused both their bodies to shake together with the movement, their laughter tangled up in each other’s.

“That’s your opener? My bone structure?” Frank managed between chuckles.

Gerard shrugged, determined to stay committed to his praise. “I mean it. You have like… amazing cheekbones. And your jawline? Sculpted. By angels.”

Frank groaned through a smile. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m not done,” Gerard said, lifting a hand to gently trace his fingers across Frank’s brow. “You also have perfect eyebrows. Like, genuinely. Have I ever told you that?”

“I don’t think so, no,” Frank replied, clearly amused. “Didn’t know eyebrows were your thing, babe.”

“Oh, they absolutely are. At least when they’re on your face.”

Frank shook his head, grinning as he buried his face briefly against Gerard’s shoulder to hide the color rising in his cheeks. But Gerard wasn’t about to let him off the hook.

“And you know what else? You turn into the absolute cutest tomato when you get embarrassed. Like when we first started dating, God, I used to look for it. Every time your ears went red, it was over for me.”

Frank let out a half-hearted groan of protest, but Gerard kept going.

“I also love your little crooked teeth,” he added, this time with more softness. “And I know you don’t like them, you’ve told me, but I always have. I always wanted to give them love before, and now I actually get to. And I’m really glad about that.”

Frank rolled his eyes, even as his cheeks betrayed him once again with a rosy tint. “You can’t be serious about the teeth…”

“Oh, I’m dead serious about the teeth,” Gerard replied, gently poking Frank’s cheek.

Frank grinned mischievously as he tucked his face into the curve of Gerard’s neck, placing a series of intentionally exaggerated kisses there, some loud, some dramatic, and all entirely affectionate.

“Let’s get to your neck, then,” he announced like a critic rating fine art. “Absolutely perfect. Irresistible. Cozy. Warm. Easily the best neck to fall asleep in. Honestly, a solid 10 out of 10. Would recommend.”

Gerard couldn’t help but burst into a laugh, his head tilting instinctively at the ticklish sensation. He mirrored the motion, nuzzling his face into the side of Frank’s neck in retaliation, speaking against his skin with a playful mumble. “Not better than yours, though.”

“Oh, flattery,” Frank cooed, pressing a kiss to Gerard’s cheek before his trail of affection began to shift downward. With a teasing kind of reverence, he placed a few slower, softer kisses across Gerard’s chest, eventually coming to pause mid-motion.

“You know,” Frank said conversationally, “I realize your nipples might be your own personal Achilles’ heel, and yes, I’m aware of the full-body tremor you get when they’re touched–”

Gerard groaned, flopping his arm over his eyes as if to shield himself from the embarrassment already on the way. “Frank…”

“–but I simply have to talk about them,” Frank went on, determined. “They’re just so… endearingly tiny. And the way you react? Incredible. Top-tier content. It's like I discovered a cheat code.”

He placed the gentlest kiss to the spot in question, and Gerard let out an involuntary shiver that only proved Frank’s point.

“I knew it,” Frank muttered proudly, resting his chin on Gerard’s chest. “See? You’re like an adorable science experiment that confirms my theories every time.” Frank sucked the little thing into his mouth, listening intently to the moan that Gerard let out his lips.

“Does it feel good for you, baby? Tell me,” Frank murmured, his voice low but affectionate, more of a plea than a tease.

Gerard nodded quickly, eyes fluttering half-closed. “Y-Yeah. Everything with you always feels good. Always.”

Frank’s hands moved slowly, his fingers trailing with gentle curiosity before resting comfortably on Gerard’s sides, right at the spot that always made Gerard squirm a little. They locked eyes, and in that quiet look, Gerard already knew what was coming.

“Okay, okay, I know you hate these,” Frank said, pressing a soft kiss to Gerard’s shoulder for good measure.
“I do,” Gerard admitted without hesitation, already bracing himself for the inevitable commentary.

“But I love them, so bear with me,” Frank replied, grinning like he’d just found a secret treasure. He gave a gentle squeeze to Gerard’s love handles, fingers pressing with fondness only trust could build. “They drive me crazy, seriously. I think they make you look so good. Like… unfairly good. I can’t get enough of you.”

Gerard huffed out a flustered laugh, rolling his eyes even though he was clearly fighting back a smile. “You don’t have to lie to me, you know. I already love you, you don’t need to sweet-talk me into body positivity.”

Frank looked downright offended. “Excuse you, I would never lie about such important matters. This is science. Objective truth. I love them.” Frank poked his side playfully before softening again. “Seriously, don’t you always tell me you love my sides? My hips, all the stuff I get self-conscious about?”

“I do,” Gerard admitted, glancing away. “But it’s different. It’s you. It’s mine to love.”

Frank’s lips quirked into a smirk, nudging their foreheads together. “There it is. You said it yourself. It’s you. Just like this is mine.” He gave Gerard’s side another affectionate squeeze. “So let me love it. I go crazy for you, every inch, even the ones you think I shouldn’t.”

Gerard let out a deep, wordless sigh, his thoughts too scrambled to form anything coherent. So instead, he leaned in, allowing himself to be kissed softly, Frank’s lips warm and steady against his own. Frank’s hands caressed along Gerard’s sides with deliberate care, fingertips spelling out reassurance and affection with every small movement.

Slowly, his hands wandered lower, resting at Gerard’s thighs. He gave them a playful squeeze, his fingers drifting with a kind of reverence that made Gerard’s breath catch for a moment. It was clear Frank wasn’t in a rush, he was savoring the closeness, letting touch speak where words weren’t needed.

“Babe,” Frank said at last, half-buried in a laugh, “as much as I’d be perfectly happy worshipping your legs for days, I’m dying here. I’m trying to be respectful, but I’m losing the battle. Please don’t think I’m a complete pervert, but I need to get to your dick.”

Gerard snorted. “Oh, I know you’re a pervert. But it’s alright, so… carry on.” That earned him a light teasing kick in the side from Gerard.

Frank’s careful hands found the front of Gerard’s underwear, not surprised to find the boy already half-hard. Sometimes Gerard had a hard time getting it up, but with just a little bit of prodding from Frank, his body worked just fine.

The smaller boy hummed at the feeling of it in his hands, the member still covered by the fabric, squeezing and rolling it around, not leaving a trace of it unattended. Gerard sighed, searching for Frank’s lips to drown his drawn-out sounds again. The boy complied, joining their lips together once again.

“Not my favorite part of you, but definitely top three.” Frank laughed, lost in pleasure and the feeling of their damp foreheads together. A beat passed before Frank recomposed himself. “Gee, I need to fuck you. Like now. I’m a mess of horny and in love, please.”

Gerard laughed, feeling how hard Frank’s member was against his leg. Not wanting to draw out Frank’s suffering any longer, partially out of mercy, partially because he was starting to lose his own composure, Gerard finally gave in with a breathless, “Okay, okay, just–”

They fumbled together in a mess of limbs and whispered apologies, managing to get their underwear out of the way with minimal injury or fabric casualties. It wasn’t exactly graceful, but at least no one fell off the bed.

Once situated, Gerard opened his legs slightly, allowing Frank to settle between them. It was a simple position, missionary. Classic. Predictable. Maybe even a little cliché. But honestly? Sometimes the classics stick around for a reason.

“Are we boring now?” Gerard asked, raising an eyebrow.

Frank smirked, already leaning down to steal a kiss. “If this is boring, I hope we never get exciting.”

“Good save. Do you have lube here?”

The moment of anticipation was short-lived, because as Frank positioned himself and glanced around the room, his expression slowly fell into a mix of dread and mild exasperation. He blinked once. Twice.

“…You’ve got to be kidding me,” Gerard muttered.

Frank let out a groan, covering his face. “I left it in your dorm.”

Gerard blinked up at the ceiling. “You must’ve jerked off in this bed at least, like, a thousand times. And you don’t have even one emergency bottle tucked in a drawer?”

“I was living in a school dormitory for years, Gerard!”

A moment passed before Frank leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Okay, how grossed out would you be if we, hypothetically, used spit?”

Gerard sighed again but rolled his eyes affectionately. “I’ll survive.”

Frank looked at him with mock-seriousness. “Will you respect me ever again?”

“No, but that ship sailed the moment you said ‘yay’ out loud earlier.”

After a lot of spit and careful effort on Frank’s part, he was finally buried inside Gerard. They exhaled together at the feeling, a shared breath of relief and connection as Frank bottomed out. Condoms had long since become more of a convenience than a necessity, something they used occasionally for quickies, but both preferred the closeness of nothing between them. They didn’t have any today anyway, and Frank had already promised to help Gerard clean up after.

“Fuck, Frankie, I missed this so much. A week without sex and I swear I turn into some wild animal in heat.”

Frank laughed, trying to keep it together.

They moved together slowly, finding a natural rhythm that felt less like choreography and more like a quiet conversation in motion. It wasn’t rushed, or wild, or even particularly heated. Instead, it was deliberate, each movement a gesture of affection, each touch under the covers a reaffirmation of everything unspoken between them.

There was eye contact, lingering and earnest, like neither of them wanted to look away in case they missed something. Fingers trailed over skin like it was sacred, memorizing freckles, moles, and soft spots. It was, in a word, gentle.

And it was exactly what Gerard needed.

He hadn’t even realized how much until he was already lost in it, the closeness made his chest feel full, made it easier to breathe. The intimacy was layered, built not just from desire, but from the emotional honesty they’d just peeled themselves open for. No masks, no roles, no posturing. Just love.

Of course, Gerard wasn’t above admitting that some other time he’d gladly let Frank wreck him into the mattress with absolutely no tenderness in sight, fuck him on all fours and call him a slut for even considering looking at other men. But this? This slow, sentimental version of Frank? The one who kissed his forehead and murmured things like “You’re my everything” into his skin?

Yeah. He’d take that today. Happily. He’d bring the other situation up first thing tomorrow, though.

By the time they were close to reaching the end of their little romantic escapade, things had… escalated, gently, but undeniably. The pace had quickened, their bodies moving in sync, and they found themselves a bit too swept up in the moment to care about anything outside their little cocoon of tangled sheets and warmth.

So, naturally, they didn’t notice, or perhaps chose to ignore, that the old wooden bedframe had started its own performance: an increasingly rhythmic thud-thud-thud against the bedroom wall. Subtlety had clearly left the building.

Not that either of them seemed even remotely concerned. They were too wrapped up in whispered affection, flushed skin, and the simple thrill of being close after a brief emotional distance. Consequences? Social awareness? Frank would think about those things later.

Downstairs, however, Frank’s mother was having a significantly less poetic experience.

She paused in her crocheting, blinked at the ceiling once, twice, and then, without missing a beat, grabbed the remote and turned up the TV volume with the calm of a woman who had heard far too much in her lifetime. No questions, no judgment, just strategic avoidance and a quiet prayer for soundproof renovations.

At least they made up, she reasoned.

By the end of it all, sweaty, out of breath, and feeling more like two overcooked noodles than functioning humans, Frank and Gerard collapsed back into each other, limbs entangled and minds blissfully blank. As per tradition, they skipped any thoughts of clean-up or rearranging the chaos they’d made of the sheets. The comforter had been kicked somewhere near the foot of the bed, half hanging off, and neither of them had the energy nor the will to retrieve it.

What mattered was the post-everything cuddle, arguably their favorite part. Frank’s head rested on Gerard’s chest, his fingers lightly tracing lazy patterns along his boyfriend’s ribs. They had found their rhythm again, in more ways than one.

Of course, as always, the universe had a well-developed sense of humor.

Gerard’s phone began to ring loudly from somewhere on the floor, vibrating angrily against the hardwood like it, too, had something to say. The sound was jarring in the otherwise peaceful room, and for a moment, neither of them moved, both boys silently hoping it would go to voicemail and vanish forever.

“Not again,” Gerard groaned, burying his face into the nearest pillow.

He let it ring. Too tired, too comfortable, and far too aware that nothing good ever came from answering a call mid-cuddle on a Saturday morning.

It wasn’t until much later, once his heart rate had normalized and Frank was muttering half-asleep nonsense about Pancake, that Gerard reluctantly retrieved the buzzing device. A few missed calls and one new message.

From his mom.

He opened it, and there it was, short, furious, and utterly unmistakable in tone:

“COME HOME NOW!! You have some explaining to do.”

Gerard stared at it for a solid ten seconds, frozen with the existential dread only a Very Angry Mother can inspire.

Frank, groggy and curious, glanced up from where he lay sprawled against Gerard’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

Gerard held the phone up like a cursed object. “I think I’m in trouble.”

“Like, ‘I got caught shoplifting’ trouble, or ‘I got caught having sex’ trouble?”

Gerard gave him a look.

Frank winced. “Ah. The second one.”