Gerard's looking around, trying to figure out who's interested in him. It's not easy. It's dark, and he's lost in thoughts about Frank which he would ideally banish to a completely different universe.
He's having trouble even trying to analyze everyone though, so he eventually just puts his head against the bar with the intent to clear his head.
It feels like he's got three million thoughts all at once, but there isn't enough space in his head for half of them. It just doesn't feel right at all. He's over processing, and sooner or later, his brain is going to short out. Probably sooner rather than later, judging by the way he can hear his blood pumping in his ears.
Mikey comes up to Gerard, who's got his head on the bar like he's about to fall asleep, but his head is pounding and he's honestly feeling like shit right now. Gerard's been sitting here for about twenty minutes just trying to collect his thoughts and figure out what it is he wants to do, but he's not having much luck.
What he wants is for Frank to not be Frank and to get into the guys pants, but he can't have that, because he'd resent himself for the rest of his life. He wants Frank to stop contradicting himself in his behavior, and either be the dick Gerard knows he is, or a more severe dick that Gerard isn't quite expecting. What he doesn't need right now is the Frank that actually listened to Gerard asking him to go away.
Gerard is just trying to figure out why it was so easy to shake Frank off earlier. Frank would never just walk away from him because Gerard asked him to. That's not the kind of guy he is. He'd pester Gerard to make this night even worse. There's no doubt in Gerard's head that Frank would do that, so why on earth isn't he?
"Gee?" Mikey asks.
"What?" Gerard replies. Not picking his head up quite yet.
"I'm going to head out, if that's okay," Mikey says, "I've been hit on by like six guys."
"Why don't I have your luck?" Gerard asks, looking up.
"Probably because when you sit like that you look extremely antisocial," Mikey responds. "Sit up, and stop looking like you've got a terminal illness."
"But I do have a terminal illness. It's called life, and right now, it's pretty shitty."
"I'm going to pretend I don't find it amusing that that rhymed, and instead I will attempt to be supportive," Mikey says, and then he generically pats Gerard on the back, "there, there."
"Get off me," Gerard says shrugging Mikey's hand away, and rolling his eyes. "You have the emotional capacity of a twig."
"Thank you," Mikey says, "but I also have a fantastic ass, and it's making guys hit on me, so I'm going to leave."
"Ugh, fine whatever," Gerard says, because, right now, he honestly just doesn't care that much. Mikey can leave, it doesn't change anything for him. He's still going to have Frank make fun of every little thing about him. Gerard's not actually sure where Frank ran off too. With Gerard's luck he's probably making out with some guy already. Maybe he snagged the fauxhawk dude.
"See you later," Mikey says, and Gerard turns his head to watch him leave, before he turns back to the bar in front of him to stare at his hands.
The thought occurs to him that he doesn't know where Frank is again, so he turns around in his seat to try to find him. Gerard's not sure why he cares. He really shouldn't care, but for some reason, he can't pretend that he doesn't. He wants to know where Frank is, if only so that he knows what area of the bar to avoid.
Frank is across the room talking to some guy, who's pretty much impossible to get a good look at when you consider how dark the room is. Probably super attractive with a fancy car and a mansion.
Gerard rolls his eyes, turns back around and downs the rest of his coke. Some guy across the bar from Gerard keeps making eyes at him, but he's now all of a sudden worried about the dark circles under his eyes that he's almost sure are there. He probably looks a mess with his hair everywhere and his cadaverous eyes drooping into his skull.
Most of him is thinking that what he really wants is to just go to bed, while a slim part of him is also thinking that this could be his shot, and he should take it. When he thinks about it though, he's not sure that's a good idea as his feet don't seem like they're going to work right now. Something just feels extraordinarily off, but he can't place it.
Gerard feels like he's literally got a concussion or something, he's not sure what caused it, but he feels sick to his stomach and sleepy. Gerard lifts his hand to his face to rub the sleep out of his eyes, and when he sees the pale skin, it doesn't register for a long moment that it''s his own hand. It feels like a ghost hand. A hand that belongs to someone else and not him. It's also incredibly blurry, and hard to make out, but it's not because of the dim lighting. There's some other reason, and Gerard just can't figure out what it is.
Gerard looks back at the guy staring at him. His hair is bleach blond and his forehead is wrinkled like he's angry a lot, but he's not old. He's thoroughly unappealing if Gerard's being honest. Also, he has two noses. Or, he doesn't. But he does. Gerard's eyes keep blurring. It looks like the guy has two noses, but Gerard recognizes that he doesn't actually. You know, probably.
Someone comes up behind him and sits on the stool next to him, and Gerard turns to see Frank, but he doesn't process his features.
"Whoa, Gerard, you do not look good," Frank says.
"Thanks," Gerard says banally.
"No, that's not what I mean. I mean that you look like you're going to pass out."
"You're one to talk," Gerard replies, "you're face isn't even in focus."
"Oh god, please tell me you're not drunk."
"What?" Gerard asks, and thinks back. He's sure he didn't drink any alcohol. At least, he fucking hopes so. He doesn't think that he could've.
"You did drink. Must've slammed a shit ton," Frank states, which confuses Gerard. He's almost certain that he didn't drink. That's not like him. He wouldn't ruin his progress like that, especially not with Mikey around. So he must not have, and he can't figure out what makes him feel so sick right now though.
"No, I didn't," Gerard assures. He feels incredibly ill. He feels like he's about to pass out, but there's this clenching fear in his stomach telling him something really awful will happen if he falls asleep.
"Yeah right," Frank says, grabbing Gerard's cup, and Gerard watches as he sniffs it. "Oh. Hang on, that's just soda."
"Yeah, I know. Told ya."
"Okay, Gerard. We're going to get you home though. You look like you're about to pass out."
"I'm fine," Gerard lies.
"No, you fucking aren't."
Gerard feels Frank's hands tugging on his arms, and his only instinct is to groan and try to push him away, but his limbs aren't very strong.
"Gerard, work with me here!"
Gerard's head goes blank.
He stops thinking and Frank forcing him up is the last thing he hears or remembers before his eyes blink open. Time feels like it's just skipped, because he is certain that he doesn't recall at all what just happened. Gerard remembers Frank's hands around his waist, pulling him up, which seems really weird and off, but then he just doesn't know. Nothing seems to be coming to him. It's just been completely erased.
Gerard's in a sitting position, with his head against something warm. The ground below him feels like it's moving. The sound of traffic is what lets him figure out that he's in a car. It's not moving very fast, but he's fairly sure of that much. He must be in a cab then.
"No Mikey, I'm fairly sure he wasn't drinking," Frank's voice says. There's a very small noise that Gerard can't make out in reply to Frank's words. Despite being unable to hear the other side of the conversation, Gerard decides that Frank is talking on the phone.
"No, he's unconscious right now," Frank says. Gerard thinks for a moment before he decides that he is not, in fact unconscious, but he closes his eyes anyway. No need to contradict Frank. Besides, his eyes hurt. They feel like they're going to fall out. It's like he has a headache in his eyes.
"I don't know!" Frank says to, presumably, Mikey.
Gerard wants to shift around a little bit, but he doesn't want Frank to know he's awake, and besides, he thinks he's going to fall back into unconsciousness any second now. As it is, he actually doesn't feel completely awake.
"No, I don't know what happened. I just told you that," Gerard hears Frank saying.
"Honestly?" Frank asks, "I think that he might've been roofied."
That thought unsettles Gerard. That might make a whole lot of sense though. Gerard's brain starts to fill with thoughts of regret and self-loathing at that. How could he be that stupid? How on earth could he have let that happen? Obviously, being a guy he doesn't have to worry about that as much, but still, he should've at least been more careful. What an idiot.
"I'm just going to get him to lie down. I mean, I wasn't going to leave him there. God, I hate the guy, but I am human," Frank says. Gerard hears Mikey saying something, but he can't make it out and he doesn't really care.
"Nah, my apartment's closer. Besides, I don't think he should be left on his own. I don't know what the hell is in his system, but I want to make sure he's okay."
There's some talking from the phone again before, "Yes, Mikey, I know you'll rip out my still beating heart if something happens to him."
Gerard smiles a little bit at that, because that definitely sounds like Mikey to him. He's ever the asshole to his face, but cares about Gerard as much as he cares for Mikey. He's still the annoying little brother, but he's the annoying little brother that would probably falsely testify if Gerard were a serial killer. To be fair though, Gerard would probably lie on the stand for Mikey too.
Gerard has the realization after way too long that whatever his head is against is warm, and boney. He can't believe it for a moment, but he's fairly sure of the fact that his head is on Frank's shoulder. Frank's got a really comfortable shoulder. It's unbelievable. Gerard's head fits really nicely, and if he moves his head just the smallest bit, he can smell Frank. He smells really nice. Like rosemary and a campfire.
It takes another couple of seconds but Gerard blacks out again, feeling way too contented, all things considering.