"Well what do we do with him then?" Frank asks.
"I don't know. He's like, a dead weight. Seriously, I don't know why, because he literally has no fat on him at all anywhere, but he's really heavy."
"Or maybe you're just really weak," Frank says.
"Do you want to drag him into a cab?" Gerard asks.
"Well, or we could just toss him out the window. Like, build a crane or something and lower him down."
"Yeah, I would, but unfortunately, we do not live in a cartoon, so how about we just wait for him to wake up?" Gerard says.
"But what if he's asleep for, like, the night?" Frank asks.
"Well then we just leave him on the couch," Gerard shrugs.
"I mean... I had a Way on my couch last night, I don't need another one tonight too," Frank says.
"Yeah, but this one won't insult you as much," Gerard says, looking down at Mikey. "You know... we could draw a moustache on his face."
"I'm not drawing any facial hair on your brother's face. You know he'd kill me right? Well, he'd probably kill you first, but I am not going to be killed just because you thought it'd be funny to behave like a toddler?"
"Ugh. Party pooper."
"This is not a party," Frank says, "And if it were it'd be the lamest party ever. Seriously, there's only three of us, it's ten o'clock, and Mikey's already passed out. Jesus fuck, I'm literally sitting on the floor of my own apartment because you're brother passed out on my couch. This would be the worst party ever!"
"You're right. It's only a real party if someone has sex in the bathtub."
"Well I'll tell you what, you can go fuck yourself in the bathtub and I won't stop you," Frank says.
"I'm going to turn down that offer. Surprisingly enough, I don't find the idea of even being here right now appealing, but my ride home, or should I say, the guy who will be paying the cab for me to get home, is passed out on your couch so I'm just stuck for now."
Frank snorts, "Yeah, you'd probably have a hard time not picturing me naked, wouldn't you?"
"That would be a real boner kill if you ask me," Gerard responds.
"Gerard, you can just admit to it you know," Frank says, looking at him like he's really sick of something. That something is probably Gerard.
"Admit to what?" Gerard asks.
"The fact that you think I'm hot."
"I don't-"
"Oh save it!" Frank interrupts, "seriously? You think it's not obvious? Gerard, we both know that you're attracted to me, okay? We both know that I'm attracted to you, okay? Denying it is meaningless at this point."
"Wait, hold on. What was that? You're attracted to me?" Gerard asks, his eyebrow raising so high that it almost gets lost in his hairline.
"Well duh," Frank replies, "I mean, I'm not stupid. I know you're not ugly, and I know that if you weren't Gerard Way, I'd totally hit on you if I saw you in a bar. Like, that's not a big deal, really. I just think you're good looking, but you still repulse me. Like, I hate you a lot, and I'm somewhat disgusted with myself that I think you're attractive, but I'm just not up to denying something that's so obvious."
"Wait," Gerard says, and he crinkles his nose when he realizes what he's hearing. His whole brain is screaming at him that this should make him want to vomit. Knowing that Frank thinks of him like that should just about make him need to hurl, but it's kind of nice. It is. It's nice knowing that someone he hates that mush still can't help but be attracted to him. Those are good words to hear.
He just wishes it weren't so obvious that the appeal is mutual. He wishes he were better at hiding it, at choking it down. He doesn't want to be attracted to Frank, he really doesn't, but he is. Frank's words are basically just stolen from Gerard's tongue, because unfortunately, Frank's dead right about him. He is attracted to Frank, and he can't help it. It disgusts him, and he really wishes he weren't, but he can't deny that it is true. Well, he can deny it, he supposes, but no one will actually believe him. They'd be right not to.
"I still hate you," Gerard says.
"Yeah me too."
"Oh you hate yourself too?"
"That's not what I meant! I meant, oh forget it. Fuck you, Shitdick."
"Are you going to admit to wanting to do that too?" Gerard asks.
"Please," Frank scoffs, "I wasn't kidding when I said I'd rather marry Jabba the Hutt than you."
"Yeah, but I'm not talking about marrying me, I'm talking about fucking me. You totally want to."
"Your head is in the clouds, Gerard."
"I think your head is just stuck in denial. Actually, I don't think you've even managed that. I think that you know you want me, but you're so afraid of that feeling that it practically incapacitates you."
"That's a big word, I'm proud of you. I didn't know you could define words that have that many letters."
"You deflected my question because you know I'm right," Gerard says.
"Oh please," Frank says, "That is so not true. Gerard, I wouldn't even want to kiss you."
"Aw, well is that anything to say to your first kiss?" Gerard teases, "Or have you forgotten that you already have kissed me?"
"That was like a million years ago, and you were awful."
"We were six! There's no way you can remember if I was or wasn't a good kisser."
"I can," Frank says. "You were awful."
"You have no idea how good a kisser I am," Gerard says.
"Yeah, I do," Frank says, "there's no way you're any good."
"You totally wouldn't say that if you actually kissed me," Gerard replies, shaking his head.
"Oh yeah?"
"Definitely," Gerard smirks. He doesn't have a complete answer sheet which all the people he's kissed have filled out or anything. It's not like there's an online survey that people fill out after making out with him. He's never had people hold up numbers like he's in a skiing tournament or something. Gerard is at least confident enough in his kissing ability to say that he's not bad. He's not a washing machine or a prude. He's maybe not nationally ranked, but he does okay for himself.
"You're full of it," Frank states.
"I am not! Seriously? Being confident nowadays just means I'm full of it? This doesn't seem fair! I have been told by like, a whole... two-ish people that I'm a great kisser!"
"Wow impressive standings, Gerard. It's so hard to argue with someone who's had feedback from that many people," Frank says, sardonically.
"Fuck off," Gerard frowns, "I'm a good kisser, okay? Deal with it. It's not like you're ever going to be able to prove me wrong, is it?"
"I could totally prove you wrong," Frank mutters.
"Yeah whatever. I'd be the one proving you wrong, and we both know it."
Frank repeats his words, "I'll prove you wrong."
Gerard is in the middle of rolling his eyes, and turning his head to look at Frank with irritation when it happens.
Gerard's mouth is just minding its own business, trying to come up with something mean to say to Frank when all of a sudden Frank actually is kissing him. With his mouth. On top of Gerard's mouth. So that they're touching. Each other's. Mouths. With their mouths.
"Oh god, gross!" Gerard exclaims, pushing Frank off a second later. "Jesus fucking Christ! That was disgusting!"
"You're really not that great a kisser," Frank says.
"You- I- what... just happened?" Gerard shouts, a little too loudly considering Mikey's asleep right next to them.
"Oh grow up! It was just a kiss. We didn't fuck or anything. It's not like that's a big deal or anything."
"What is going on?"
"I proved you wrong. You're really not that great a kisser," Frank says.
"Yeah, well, you did catch me by surprise, didn't you?" Gerard says, "I mean, I'd have been better if you'd given me some warning or something."
"Alright, fine," Frank says, grabbing Gerard by the back of his hair and pulling him closer. "I'm giving you a warning this time, got it?"
"You're gonna-" Gerard is about to ask Frank why he's doing it again when he's cut off, because Frank does it again.
Gerard's thought process goes a little something like this: "Fuck, again? Seriously? We're doing this again? Frank, you're a fucking fuckhead and I hate you. I'm kissing Frank. Ew. It's kind of nice. What? Oh god, it's a good thing he can't hear what I'm thinking right now. Thank fucking god. That would be bad. It is kind of nice though. Frank's a good kisser. Very nice kisser. Really nice lips. Soft. Shut up, Gerard! This is Frank, you can't like kissing him. Jeez, it's been a while since we started kissing, hasn't it? Why am I still kissing him? Why am I allowing this to happen? What on earth is going on right now? What point was I trying to prove that involves kissing Frank? Fuck it. If I'm gonna kiss him, I'm gonna fucking go for it."
So Gerard, being the smart cookie that he is, decides that he is going to really go for it.
He grabs the sides of Frank's face, even though logic and reason are screaming at him not to, and he attempts to make Frank forget what they were talking about. In that attempt however, Gerard himself gets a little bit lost.
Frank's hair is really soft. And so are his lips. And he's a good kisser. So is Gerard of course, he's a good kisser, but he's meant to be proving that point. It does help if the person you're proving your point on is also a really good kisser. And he is.
He decides to treat this kiss like it's not his arch nemesis he's kissing. It makes it easier to focus on the matter at hand if he's not trying to hypothesize the best way to murder the guy he's kissing. That just makes everything kind of awkward.
Except in doing so, Gerard's only choice is to treat this kiss like he's kissing Frank. Not the guy he hates, Frank, but rather the guy who he used to play five hour games of Go Fish with. The guy who everyone thought he was going to marry someday. He has to picture Frank as being his best friend, that guy, because it doesn't work any other way. He's still that really attractive guy in the band with the big secret that's made his mother so disappointed in him, but he's also the guy that always ate Skittles in even numbers. The guy who really liked to watch the washing machine cycle for no good reason. Pretending that he and Frank have been friends all these years isn't as hard as Gerard would have liked to believe. It's actually kind of easy to picture him and Frank as friends.
Maybe they'd never let themselves be torn apart in second grade. Maybe they stayed close throughout all of their elementary school years, even if they were put on other sides of the room for being too close. Maybe they had been high school sweethearts though. It probably would've been sometime over summer break, sometime in their high school years. Frank would've been hanging out with Gerard in his room really late at night. They'd have been talking for a couple of hours about stupid things they'd done in their childhood, the childhood where they'd been best friends, and they'd have been trying to keep their voices down because everyone was asleep in the house. Then Gerard maybe would've just leaned in and Frank wouldn't have pulled away. Mikey would've known the next morning, and teased Gerard about it, but Gerard would be so giggly and bubbly because he'd kissed his best friend the night before and it was perfect.
He probably would've taken Frank to prom. They'd have requested songs from the DJ that were too inappropriate to be played at a school function. Gerard would've gone to school halfway across the country while Frank went to the other end, and everyone would've told them they wouldn't make it, but they'd persevere through those four years anyway. They'd have probably had a lot of fights, just trying to make it through college and still be together.
Then they would've moved in to an apartment together. Everyone would have told them they wouldn't make it but they had. And then one day, one of them would probably have hidden a ring in the others' cereal box, and of course they'd be all ecstatic. They'd kiss and maybe fuck, because they were engaged and it would have been perfect. They'd have had to call their moms with the news and they'd have both had the words 'I told you so' given to them, because they had lived up to the expectations that had been made for them when they were five years old.
They would celebrate Frank's thirtieth birthday and be all coupley and gooey, making Mikey make faces at them, but he'd actually be really glad that Gerard was happy. They'd be that couple that has a lot of parties in their apartment and Gerard would actually be trusted with a glass of wine, because he wouldn't have gone through those rough years in his late twenties. They'd have that stupid fucking contract framed on the wall above their bed.
But that's all in his head. It's not real.
Gerard realizes way too late that this has been going on for way too long. Like way too long. The kind of long that would make a joke unfunny. Really way too long.
This is not anything like Gerard's first kiss ever with Frank. That had been a lot more thought out, and he'd had more misgivings about it at the time, because kissing anyone was weird at that age. This is not like that. That had been very innocent. They barely pecked each other before it was over. Gerard did not know that some people put their tongues in other people's mouths, and that knowledge would have put six year old Gerard off for life. He'd have been disgusted. Tongues should stay to themselves, he'd have thought. He was so innocent back then. His tongue would never hang out with someone else's tongue.
So why is his tongue in Frank's mouth now? That's a very good question, which Gerard would like answered.
Frank's really not making any attempt to push Gerard off though, and that's what gets him to keep going. It's really nice. Gerard knows that the minute this is over, he's never going to get to kiss Frank again, and chillingly, he feels his heart drop at that. He can't believe that makes him sad! That should be a good thing. That should be a really good thing. This is Frank. He's supposed to think Frank's an awful kisser, because he hates him, but that's not what he's thinking right now. That's not even kind of what he's thinking right now.
What Gerard is thinking right now would be censored to oblivion if it were broadcast anywhere. His mind is wondering to places that are only usually known to people who are actually in the process of being fucked. This is not at all a situation that should emanate those types of thoughts.
Frank is a really good kisser though. He knows the right amount of tongue to use, and he knows where to put his hands, one on the back of Gerard's head and the other on the side of his neck. He knows how not to get his nose in the way, which a lot of the people Gerard's kissed had trouble with. It's not like he's kissed a lot of people, but really, you'd think they'd realize that their nose was in the fucking way.
The fact that he's such a good kisser makes Gerard wonder what else he's good at. If Frank really has slept with as many guys as he claims to have, then he's probably really good in bed. That's a thought that makes Gerard's head go into a frenzy. The thought that almost makes him lose his sanity is the fact that Frank does have a really nice mouth. A really nice mouth. A mouth that's probably really good at a lot of things. Licking envelopes among other things.
It's been a few minutes past way too long. It's at the point where the joke that became unfunny would now start to become funny again, purely because it's been so long.
Finally, Gerard figures out how to get it to stop. It's not really that hard actually. All he really has to do is let go of the sides of Frank's head. His hands are somewhat tangled in Frank's hair, but he frees his hands and then sort of backs away awkwardly.
"There," Gerard says, taking a breath.
"Wasn't that great," Frank says, though he looks kind of flustered and his hair is just about everywhere.
"Yeah?" Gerard asks. "Tell that to your boner."
Gerard picks himself up off of the ground and walks around the couch, while Frank makes a frustrated sound, either at him or at himself. Gerard's not sure. He's also not sure he cares. That was mildly amusing.
"I need a swimming pool of mouthwash to get the taste of you off of me," Gerard says, making a gagging noise as he enters the bathroom to gargle as much mouthwash as he can get his hands on.
He's not sure what's making him gag though. Yeah, he proved Frank wrong but at what cost? The only thing his mind can focus on now is that picture in his head of what could've been his life. The life where he'd married his high school sweetheart. His childhood sweetheart actually. They'd have been perfect together. They'd have been like Marshall and Lily, only cuter. They would've been able to make people 'aw' whenever they heard the story of how Gerard and Frank were childhood friends, who fell in love.
Except Gerard's lost those twenty five years, and they're not coming back. It's a nice fantasy, but that's all it is, because it's too late. He can't have Frank. But god, he wishes that he fucking could.