★ not edited [point out any clerical errors if you see 'em!] ★
WARNING: mentions of past addictions
WHEN FRANK WALKED into his kitchen the morning after he and Gerard had eaten his home cooked meal, he could very easily smell something sweet.
He also saw Gerard of course, his back to Frank as he seemed to be doing something over the stove.
Frank had never actually seen Gerard cook anything, he didn't really think Gerard was the "making breakfast" sort of guy. Gerard sort of gave Frank the notion that he woke up ten minutes before he would be late and chugged his coffee on the way— not looked to be making... French Toast?
Gerard must have heard Frank's cane on the floor, because soon he turned with a dopey smile. His shirt hanging low on his torso, revealing his pale collarbones to a drowsy Frank.
"Morning, Frankie." He said, glancing back at the stove before he fully smiled at Frank.
Frank offered him a weak and temporary smile, limping over to his stool slowly as Gerard watched him.
"What're you doing?" Frank asked eventually, watching as Gerard's cheeks lit up with a rosy pink.
"Makin' French Toast... and picturing a young Keith Richards naked." Gerard laughed softly, making Frank almost want to laugh to.
Sometimes he forgot how cute and pretty Gerard's mannerisms were.
"You don't... have to cook for me, I can—"
"Who the fuck said this was for you?" Gerard giggled again, making Frank subtly look down to hide the soft blush his cheeks took on.
Gerard laughed again.
The laugh came from Gerard like a newly sprung leak - timid at first, stopping and starting. He wasn't done yet though, Frank could tell from the way he rolled his hazel eyes to the ceiling and half bit his lip.
"Just kidding... I, I thought I'd return the favour since you made dinner last night." And then he giggled again. The sound creating a shaking motion.
"You didn't have to do that..." Frank finally mumbled, trying to keep his creepy staring to a minimum this early in the morning.
Gerard sighed as he just shook his head through his grin, "I wanted to, dumbass."
Frank's eyebrows arched, waiting. In moments Gerard's laugh shone again, and it was more like a bust water main arching into a warm summer sky soaking everyone around him.
And then Gerard was turned away from Frank, fishing out a pair of plates for the two of them.
Frank cleared his throat, "Don't you have... work this morning?"
Gerard nodded, "Mhm, but my friend Alex said he'd cover me so I'd have enough time to catch your million-dollar reaction to my toast."
Frank just rolled his own eyes as he suppressed the need to tell him this was all unnecessary. But he restrained himself. He could tell for some fucking reason this was important to Gerard, and he didn't want to make it seem like he wasn't appreciative of his gesture.
"Oh, by the way," Gerard said as he set two plates down by the stove, "I might be a bit late tonight. I'm going to Linds' place."
Frank nodded softly, looking down at the counter as he realised he had therapy again today.
Damnit.
He stayed quiet as Gerard moved around, placing down the toast and covering it very lightly in powdered sugar. Though he must have noticed Frank's absent behaviour after a while because he glanced back at him with a frown.
"You alright?" Gerard asked quietly as he took the plates in both of his hands.
Frank looked up at him and nodded softly, not too keen on hearing Gerard's take on therapy. It would probably just end up being similar to Bob's overly passive-aggressive speech about self preservation and how Frank would be committing mass genocide by not going.
Gerard sighed but didn't ask as he set Frank's plate down in front of him.
He watched Frank closely as Frank carefully cut a piece and put it in his mouth.
"Well? What'd you think?" Gerard asked immediately, making Frank look up blankly.
"S'good." He spoke thickly through his food, making Gerard's nose scrunch up.
"Have some manners, Frankie," Gerard said with a small smile, "But I'm glad you like it."
Frank looked down at his plate as he nodded and took another bite. And he nearly choked on his mouthful when he felt Gerard kiss the top of his head.
"You gonna be okay while I'm gone?" Gerard asked softly, and Frank swallowed and nodded again.
"I'll be fine." Frank answered, still looking down at his plate, "I won't be here anyway."
"Oh, where are you going?" Gerard asked as he cut a piece of his own toast, still standing across Frank.
Frank cleared is throat, "Therapy."
It wasn't as if he could really form a believable lie at this point, not to mention lately Frank had been wanting to get himself closer to Gerard, so he assumed lying wasn't the best idea.
Gerard stopped when he heard Frank.
"How long have you... been going?" Gerard asked quietly.
"Since I first got shot." Frank mumbled, not having looked up just in case Gerard's expression wasn't what he needed to see. He couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed about it all. He had always felt like therapy was for kids, not for almost-thirty-year-olds with mommy issues.
Gerard was silent and Frank felt a hot flush of nerves zap down his spine to his stomach as he felt Gerard's lips on the top of his head again.
"You don't have to be embarrassed, Frankie. There's nothing embarrassing about going to therapy." Gerard said quietly, and Frank cut another piece of his toast as he nodded weakly.
"Thanks..." Frank mumbled, feeling like he was on an elevator that was falling rapidly. "You um, you ever go to therapy?"
Gerard was silent for a moment before he made a small humming noise, "Um, yeah. Yeah I used to go until I moved to New York."
Frank's interest peaked, his head raising slowly to watch Gerard fiddle with his fingers.
"Why?" Frank just couldn't stop his mouth from running at this point. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to know, but once the words tumbled out of his mouth he could tell Gerard wasn't too impressed.
"You know, I-I really should be getting ready. Alex is probably-"
"Please?" Frank's eyes stayed glued to Gerard's shifting figure that was now changed completely in body language.
Gerard stared at him for a moment, his eyes turning less like the warmth of a forest and more like wet bark on oak trees.
Gerard finally sighed quietly, looking off towards the communal microwave as he cleared his throat. "I uh, I used to... drink."
Franks eyebrows knitted together, "Like, heavy drinking?"
"Frank, c'mon, I don't think I have to explain what I meant by that." Gerard mumbled, but at this point Frank's mouth just wouldn't stop running.
"Okay, so you were an alcoholic?"
Gerard pursed his lips as he looked away from Frank, swallowing thickly.
"Yeah... I, I was an alcoholic, okay? S'that what you wanted to hear?" Gerard choked the words out, looking back at Frank quickly before all of the sudden rushing back to Bob's room.
Frank knew from the way his eyes had looked; the mirth of their earlier conversations had extinguished. Gerard's eyes had been moving slower and more down-cast, skimming the counter, rarely raising to eye level. It was in his voice too, quieter, with a meekness that wasn't usually part of his speech pattern. And Frank felt like shit for making his mood change like that.
Frank rubbed his eyes before whispering a solemn, "Fuck."
He reached for his cane and pulled himself off of his stool. He could hear faint rustling from Gerard's temporary bedroom. He could also hear faint sniffling but he supposed that could have been anything.
He braced himself before knocking gently.
When he didn't hear a response he walked in, something he had become accustomed to doing.
He spotted Gerard then, he was sat on his bed with his face between his knees as he held them close to his chest.
"Gerard?" He asked, his tone hesitant and airy. Frank had never been the best at comforting.
"What do you want?" Gerard asked, lifting his head up to wipe his nose hurriedly. "Want me to come wipe your ass?"
Frank's throat tightened at his comment.
Regardless Frank limped closer to him, taking a hesitant seat beside him on his bed.
"No," He answered quietly, making Gerard scoff and wet his bottom lip as he looked away from him.
"Then what?" Gerard asked impatiently, wiping his eyes, "You know, I'd actually appreciate it if you just fucking got-"
"Look, I just came in here to say sorry for bringing up... that, earlier." Frank forced out, clearing his throat to clear out some of his awkwardness.
Gerard sighed heavily, "It's fine, I guess."
And Frank could tell from his tone that it wasn't fine, and honestly, he wasn't fine with Gerard's response either. He was a grown man- he was fully capable of telling Frank he didn't want to share. It hadn't been Frank's intention to upset him but he should have known Frank's emotional intelligence wasn't the sharpest.
"I was expecting a little more of a genuine response, since I-"
Gerard scoffed, "Seriously? You want me to suck you off in gratitude for apologizing for something?"
"Hey," Frank said, clenching his jaw, "I didn't fucking make you do anything- it was your choice to mention-"
"God, were you raised by a fucking grapefruit? Why can't you just-"
"Why can't you just shut your fucking mouth for once?" Frank growled, exasperated, and now no longer in control of what was leaving his mouth. The moment he had heard a mention of his childhood something just snapped in him and now he wasn't speaking to his half-boyfriend Gerard who had made him breakfast. Now he was talking to fucking invasive, dickhead Gerard who he honestly wouldn't mind clocking.
Something sparked in Gerard's eyes when he heard Frank's words. Or rather, something seemed to extinguish.
He stood up like a spring in motion, "Fucking prick."
Gerard muttered the words as he grabbed his cased camera from Bob's nightstand.
"I'm the prick? I came in here to apologize and you fucking lost your shit. What, are you like five or something?" Frank said dryly, and he could safely say he was far past thinking rationally.
Gerard spun around then, a hot and angry blush across his face as he swallowed thickly. "You call that apologizing, maggot brain? All you did was say half-assed word."
The arguing had a dull exhaustion to it, Frank could tell. Like they'd been over the same bitterness too many times before. Gerard had a sneer in his voice that extended to his eyes and Frank spat after every vent
Frank just managed a faint scoff as he glared at Gerard who was tugging his shoes on, irrespective of the fact that he was still wearing sweatpants and a random sleep shirt.
"Didn't realize you were a fan of running from you problems." Frank scoffed coldly, making Gerard stiffen in anger. "Is that what you did with your drinking too?"
Gerard stopped, and Frank then realised what he had said.
But like a chemical reaction, Gerard snapped back just as fast. "Well, I can't run too far. Wouldn't want you pulling the trigger while I'm gone."
When Frank caught sight of Gerard's eyes, there weren't any traces of tears left, his eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold, hard.
And Frank felt like he had turned raw when he heard those words; like there wasn't any skin over his pain anymore and the wind had made it bleed harshly. Sharp pain lanced through his head and chest, and colorful spots flashed in front of his eyes. It felt like his whole body had been beaten and every movement caused some muscle or bone to ache.
Frank refused to look away, even as his lips trembled and his shoulders heaved with emotion, unwilling to back down.
And then it happened.
A single tear slid down from his spiteful eyes, followed by another one, and another, until soon, a steady stream of salty tears flowed down his red cheeks, releasing the sadness and sorrow that had been held inside of him. But still he didn't make a sound.
Gerard seemed to only realize what had left his mouth after he had seen Frank's instant reaction. His eyes immediately opened wide and he stared at Frank with an expression Frank definitely couldn't read with how blurry his eyes were.
Slow, desolate tears ran from Frank's unblinking eyes and dripped steadily from his chin.
"Frank, I- oh my god," Gerard said quietly to himself as he rushed over to Frank who was staring at him blankly.
"I didn't- I didn't mean, Jesus Christ, I'm so sorry-" Gerard was stumbling over his words, his own eyes turning glossy like an oil painting as he wrapped his arms around Frank's shoulders.
Frank just let his bottom lip quiver, the same way a baby's would when they were pushed past their endurance.
He couldn't force words past his aching chest, his eyes glued on Gerard. Though weirdly enough, he didn't feel anger for him anymore. He just felt a deep sting in his heart, he supposed a small part of him didn't care about the actual sentiment behind Gerard's words- he just cared that they had come from Gerard himself.
Did... Did he only agree to watch Frank so he wouldn't kill himself? Was that the only reason? Maybe he didn't even like Frank like he had hoped- he was just fucking pitying him.
The thought made him feel like a sharp knife had sliced an open wound on his chest.
"Frankie, I didn't mean that, I promise I was just m-mad I didn't," Gerard words were cut up between choked breaths, as if he was trying to back his own tears.
"I'm sorry."
//—//
i feel bad for frank but like i also feel bad for gerard?? sksj it's a fuckin' paradox