Romantic Notions (Frerard)

Twenty: Baby Brother

"I'm sorry I kicked you out earlier, Frankie," Gerard whispered, pressing a kiss to Frank's still-damp hair. They were curled up together in his bed, ankles intertwined under the sheets. They were too lazy to get fully dressed after their shower earlier, Gerard in only an oversized t-shirt and Frank more than content to be in only a pair of his boyfriend's boxers.

"I'm sorry I trashed your living room," the tattooed man sheepishly mumbled, twining their ankles a little tighter together. "I-I didn't mean to break anything."

"I know you didn't... My brother gave me that mug is all," Gerard said, his tone almost as melancholy as it was soft. "That first Christmas after he came home from rehab, he gave it to me. We cried and held each for an hour or something when he gave it to me."

"My grandmother passed away five years ago, a-and me and my brother, Mikey, just fell apart. Instead of holding to each other, we wallowed in our own grief, ya know? I became an alcoholic because if I was fuckin' plastered, I didn't have to feel the pain. B-but Mikey, h-he—he started using. It was pills at first, and then one day it wasn't anymore, it-it was heroin, and it wasn't until he overdosed that I even knew... I was so lost in my own pain; I didn't even know he was—"

Gerard was softly crying at this point, his voice trembling as he spilled the words from his lips. Frank squeezed his hand and nodded for him to continue, unable to speak as he took in the pain in his boyfriend's eyes.

"They found out about his HIV while he was in the hospital. They did his bloodwork for the tox screen, a-and he found out he was positive. That's what made me get sober... I thought my brother was gonna die, too. I c-couldn't lose him, too, I couldn't lose my baby brother, so I knew I had to get clean. If I did it, then I could help him... We got him into a rehab center, and it really helped him. I went to see him as often as I could, but I was just waiting for the day I could take him home. And he surprised me that Christmas, waltzing through the door all on his own. I was so angry at first, thinking he just abandoned the program, but he'd been keeping his release date a secret for months so that he could surprise me. I was all prepared to punch him out when he showed me the discharge papers, the biggest grin on his face I've ever seen. He's been clean ever since."

"Is he undetectable like me?" Frank asked hopefully, rolling onto his stomach and propping up on his elbows. His bare shoulders peeked out from under the sheets, his tattooed skin shining in the dim light.

"I think he went too long before starting medication," the blonde man sighed, lazily tracing along one of the lines of the tattoo along his collarbone. Frank shivered under his light touch, goosebumps popping up on his skin. "It hasn't progressed to AIDS or anything yet, thank fuckin' God. And I think he's come to accept it; he met his wife while in rehab, and they've been together ever since."

"If I knew how important that mug was to you, I would've been more careful, Gee, I promise I would've been," Frank whispered, regret shining in his eyes as he stared into Gerard's.

The blonde man just smiled softly at him, lifting his hand to cup his cheek. Frank leaned into the gentle touch, eyes briefly falling closed. "I know, Frankie; it's okay. We can try to fix it, and it's the memory attached to it that matters so much. I can get another one."

"But, Gee—"

"'God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can't change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.'"

Frank just furrowed his brow in confusion, wondering what on earth his boyfriend was talking about.

"It's an AA thing," he added, his mouth curving into a crooked smile. "If it can't be fixed, it is okay, because I fixed us, ya know? I knew that I couldn't leave us—leave you—broken because this is more important. You're more important, Frankie, even though it hurts. I care so much about you it fuckin' hurts, but I think that's what love is."