Wintertime (Frerard, Sequel to Summertime)

12: im too tired to think of a chapter name smh

"I'm not, Frankie, I'm just answering his questions, because someone has to, don't they? And you're not exactly in the best of moods right now, are you-"

"I want Starbucks, I told you-"

And Ryan chimed in with a, "haven't you ever heard of not bailing on Brendon for once, because seriously, Frank, I'm sorry, okay, it makes sense now, you're dating some guy in secret for some godforsaken reason, but me and Bren are your best friends and you're being an ass, and you said you'd meet Brendon at Starbucks today, and I came here to... to... find out what the fuck was going on, because we're worried about you, we really are," Ryan paused, glancing in Gerard's direction, "sorry, I... I don't shout this much, usually."

"It's fine-"

"Tell Brendon I might actually need some time away from the man who's so far up his own ass you can't make eye contact with him, for once, because Brendon's hard to be around; he's annoying, he asks too many questions, and I need some time to think: I have my own problems, you know?"

"Friends usually share their problems, you know?" Ryan narrowed his eyes at Frank.

"I'm sorry... I... it's... I can't explain-"

Ryan shook his head, "of course you can't, look, will you just fucking explain to Brendon that you have a boyfriend and that's what's taking your time up and just get a fucking drink at Starbucks and sort this shit out-"

"He keeps trying to set me up with assholes-"

"Then why, for fuck's sake, Frank, why did you not just tell him you have a boyfriend, hell, you didn't even have to specify as to who the hell this dude is, but just that you do have one, instead of just making everyone hate you, because that's what you do when you cut yourself off from us, and maybe you don't mean it, maybe you can't help it, but that's what happens, Frank, and I'm fucking sorry, but just go the fuck to Starbucks, will you?"

"Gerard's here... how about another day? How about tomorrow-"

"Frank-"

"I could come if that's not a problem." And dear god, Frank knew that that was absolutely the most problematic thing Gerard had ever said, and was perhaps even the most problematic thing that Frank had ever fucking heard.

"That'd be nice, actually, and then, Brendon could meet you, and it'd certainly help dig Frank out of this hole he's burying himself in-"

"No..." Frank shook his head firmly, "that's fucking not happening... I don't... I don't fucking... no."

"Why not?" Ryan widened his eyes.

"Look... I... can you not just give me a minute or two to talk this over with Gerard in private, because, I-"

"I'll give you an hour, but then I'm coming back and I'm taking you, regardless of whether Gerard is here or coming or not or whatever, and we'll go to Starbucks and keep Brendon fucking satisfied, and there you can have that fucking coffee, huh?" Ryan shook his head, making his way towards the door, "I'll lock the door behind me, don't worry."

And silence as the two waited motionless for the click of the lock of the front door, and then before Frank could even manage to prioritise what he wanted to scream at Gerard about, the taller man had him pinned down against the mattress, with his lips on his, and Frank couldn't fucking breathe, but god, he wasn't sure he even wanted to.

And as a few minutes passed, and Gerard began to drag his lips down to Frank's neck, the shorter man perhaps reckoned he had enough air in his lungs to consider forming a somewhat coherent sentence or even just an exclamation of some sorts. "What the fuck are you doing?"