The Chasing of Moons

The Smoldering Batman

"Oh god, when?"

"Two," Frank mumbles.

"You called me at seven in the morning for a thing that's going to happen at two in the afternoon?" Brendon asks, his anger very obvious.

"Maybe."

"You're such a twat," Brendon replies before hanging up.

"Could've been worse," Frank says to himself and looks around his room nervously.

Frank hasn't gotten any sleep, sick with anticipation. He's terrified that he's going to screw something up, because he's finally got an opportunity to hopefully get Gerard to fall in love with him. Or at least maybe cool down how much he pretends to hate him.

Frank looks around his room with dread. He's excited, nervous, and painfully anxious. He doesn't know how to waste what feels like thirty hours until Mikey said he would get Gerard out of the house. Apparently Gerard hasn't done anything on the weekend for the past five years except for play video games and occasionally sing incredibly loudly in the shower. In Frank's personal opinion, that sounds absolutely fantastic and he could get used to living like that.

Frank ends up spending an hour trying to convince himself to get out of bed. After he does get out of bed, he sneaks out of his room, grabs a pop tart and runs back up because he's not sociable yet. He rereads Gee's letter for what's probably the five thousandth time, and most of his warning wastes away as he tries to will himself to get up and take a shower. He needs to smell nice for his not-a-date, but he's still going to tell their kids about it and say it was their first date. Unless it's a complete disaster, but he's hopeful.

Usually time tends to slow down around Frank, but today, the hours fly past him so fast he's sure that he's being tricked by some sort of mass clock failure. That doesn't turn out to be so though, and he does end up picking up a very disgruntled looking Brendon a short time later.

"What are you going to say to get him to fall in love with you?" Brendon asks.

"Uh, Star Wars," Frank says, "lots and lots of Star Wars. That's my biggest talking point, because there's nothing I know more about than Star Wars."

"Is that it?"

"We could literally spend years talking about Star Wars. We could spend four hours discussing who shot first."

"Okay Frank, it's been like forty years, everyone knows it was Han. It's not even a debate anymore."

"It's still a debate, I will not give up on this," Frank says.

"You're such an idiot," Brendon says shaking his head. "God, why can't Pete be here instead of me?"

"He's too busy to answer my phone calls," Frank frowns, "Such a shame because he and Mikey could have made googley eyes at each other."

"Both of you are gross. Why can't I just have not insane friends who don't drool over everybody?"

"We're going to end up marrying those boys, I swear to god," Frank says.

"Yeah right," Brendon scoffs.

"It's true!" he insists.

"You wanna make that a bet?" Brendon says.

Frank gets an evil little glimmer in his head before he says, "yes."

"Really?"

"Yes," Frank replies, "I think I could make it happen that we both end up with them. I'm actually sure of it. I would be willing to bet a very large amount of money."

"You're in denial," Brendon shakes his head. "It's not even likely that one of you is going to marry someone you met in high school and you think you two are going to marry brothers? I need to hire a statistician to show you how unbelievable and dumb that idea is."