Wishing You Were a Ghost

Something Vague

The best thing about finally healing, Frank thinks, is that running into Gerard in the hallways isn't unpleasant anymore. He doesn't invite the guy over for dinner or movie nights like he would with Mikey, but it's not agonizing to see his face. (Though Frank could definitely do without being subjected to occasional sex through the wall, and whispers of I love you at the doorway when Gerard leaves in the mornings.)

More time passes, and things are more comfortable. Frank goes out with Mikey, and when Gerard happens to be there, things aren't miserable. Awkward, maybe, and Frank definitely has a few too many beers and cries in the bathroom at one point, but it's not miserable.

Not miserable in the way that the startled cry coming from the hallway is.

Lois lets out a low boof, and Frank gets to his feet, abandoning his blanket to the floor without bothering to put it away.

Because he knows that fucking sound.

"Baby, please-"

"No. I'm done, I'm fucking over it. I'm sick of being your second fucking option. I'm sick of your shit in my apartment. I'm sick of your fucking mood swings. I'm fucking done, Gerard."

Frank opens the door so fast he damn near slams it into his own face. His heart is racing, and he can feel the simmering heat of anger in the pit of his stomach, working its way through his chest and out into his limbs.

"What's going on here?" he asks, stepping into the hallway while giving Lois a hand signal for 'wait'. She whines, but he's able to slip out of the door and shut it behind him without a fuss. What he sees in front of him causes a red tint to slide over the world for a split second. It's like his vision suddenly blurs the color over his eyes as blood rushes in a hot wave through his system before he's able to see clearly again.

Gerard, crying, with a box in his hands, and an angry boyfriend that Frank is realizing he's never actually seen before.

"Oh look," the fucker says, all condescending sweetness. "Your fucking heart throb, why don't you run over to him-"

"Stop, that's not what this is about!" Gerard protests with tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, what do I have to do with any of this?" Frank asks with a frown, stepping up next to Gerard. But while the blonde may have shrunken in on himself, Frank is willing to do no such thing.

The man snorts, rolling his eyes as he picks up another box from in front of the door to take outside. He tries to place it on top of the box that Gerard is already holding, but Frank puts a hand against Gerard's arm and pulls him back just far enough that this asshole can't reach him.

Naturally, the box is thrust into Frank's chest instead, which is fine, he can take it, but he's not far off from fully losing his temper at this point, and having something shoved at him is not helping things.

"The fuck is your issue?"

"Your little sad sack over there is my issue," Gerard's boyfriend says, pointing at the man in question. "He ever fucking dip on you for days at a time to finish a 'project'?" he asks, making air quotes, "Or spend time on fucking 'business trips'?"

Frank frowns, "Sorry, if you're dragging me into this, I'm gonna assume you think he's- What? Cheating on you? With me?"

"Ever since you fucking stumbled down the hall drunk to make him take care of you, he's been flaking out on me left and fucking right-"

"I have deadlines, you know this!" Gerard tries. The way that this man looks at Gerard and has him cowering speaks fucking volumes. It tells Frank every single thing he needs to know about the situation. What it is, and what's behind the scenes. There is no additional information needed. It stokes the fire that is already catching hold of all of Frank's good sensibilities.