(A/n)
requested by yebroimemo
Your requests are amazing, Joe playing Vivaldi is probably the best of this
will need 3rd part sry
__
Hello, pls help this poor soul here by recommending other MCR fanfics - I guess I've read most of it already
______
______
______
"(Y/n)," Patrick says, continuing to drag me by my wrist towards a room - Ray stands in front of the door, holding onto the handle and seeming to pull on it, like if avoiding it from being open. Everything just makes me more and more confused. "You'll understand this is for your best," he stops walking right in front of the door and, before I'm able to make any question, I'm pushed to inside it. "We'll be back in an hour!" Patrick says, locking the room, and I can hear a bye coming from Ray before there are steps fading down the hallway.
I'm about to bang on the door, pleading for them to at least explain why am I here when Frank does it instead. "You two are so dead, I can't believe!" He shouts against the door, though I think the two are probably nowhere around anymore.
Frank continues shouting until I sigh, sitting on the bed. "They won't listen to you, Frank," I say as looking for my phone to message Pete or maybe Gerard. "No," I cry quietly; a sigh escapes my lips once I remember I left it charging in my room. Laying back on the mattress, I close my eyes as resting my hands over my stomach, my feet still hanging from the bed. If I ignore him and don't stress myself, maybe it'll be better.
"It doesn't hurt to attempt," he grumbles before repeating his actions.
"You should've thought about this when you considered coming back after me." I reply in a light tone, covered in sarcasm. "Ah, wait, I forgot you never really cared about that summer. I'm so sorry, Frankie." The comment seems to encourage some sparkle of fire inside me into burning, in a way the last words suppress certain anger. Wait, didn't I say I wouldn't stress myself over this? Ah, the hypocrisy.
"What?" He says angrily - I can sense him approaching, but still don't open my eyes. "How can you say something like this? You don't even know what happened to me!" Even not seeing him, I know Frank has his fists clenched by his sides, his shoulders tensed up as he angrily looks down at me. "Everything-"
"Do I need to?" I ask in a light tone, kinda tired.
"-you've been doing since we met again in that damn café with the guys is to avoid me and fucking be rude if we happen to talk!" Frank says angrily - I crack my eyes open to see him moving his hands around frantically as talking. His burst out was something to expect by the way he'd been clenching his jaw whenever looking at me or Pete lately.
His words, however, make me widen my eyes as sitting up on the bed. "What? Me? Are you sure I am the one acting like this? Like a fucking kid?" I look at him in disbelief, placing a hand over my chest.
"Yes, you, because you don't know my reasons!" He throws his hands in the air, looking at me like if asking for my arguments. "Look at the fucking grudge you're holding of me-"
"Frank, are you even thinking?" I interrupt him. "Are you that out of your mind? We didn't even meet at the café at first! We met at Devil's Nest and you just straight dropped a lot of shit, you offended me, Frank!" His face goes from confused to realizing with what I say; I complete, "and, yes, that's why we were mad at you in the next day! I wasn't rude with you for nothing, Frank!"
"Oh, so it's about getting your own back?" He crosses his arms over his chest, mocking amuse and certain disdain in his gaze. "That's very mature of you too, (y/n), congratulations." Frank rolls his eyes exaggeratedly.
"You left me and I don't have the right to be mad?" I stand up, raising my eyebrows questioningly, tilting my head forward, like if asking if he's serious. "I never had the chance of coming back at you because you just left and-"
"And you're still that angry?" Frank asks louder, but I don't care, continuing to speak even louder as standing up from the bed.
"-you never even fucking sent me a message, gave me a call or answered to my texts! How dumb of me to think-"
"You still think about me even with a new little boyfriend?"
"-these months meant for you the same they meant to me!" I say sarcastically, bringing the back of my hand to my forehead, but he's soon shouting more again, trying to speak over me.
"Did you even ask me why did I leave?"
"Did you even try stopping to hurt me and allow me to ask?" After these words leave my lips, it's like if reality throws a bucket of cold water on us and just then I notice how loud we were talking. Everything is suddenly silent asides from the sound of our heavy breaths and my heart beat right behind my ears, besides the ringing sound taking over my mind. The anger is still there, but slowly taken over by sadness with a hint of shame. Maybe I should've left things the way they were.
Frank is the one to break our eye contact, sighing as walking away. I do the same, stepping back to sit down on the bed again, watching it as the male grabs a bottle of vodka from the small fridge before coming to sit down next to me. The silence around us is heavy, like if our words still echo in the room, bothering us.
The sound of the lid being removed is impossibly loud, making both of us flinch. We'd certainly be awkward now if not so emotionally exhausted, but Frank offers me a sip of the vodka after drinking some of it himself. We grow empty at the same time the bottle does; most of the anger and frustration dissipating as our thoughts grow fuzzy with the drink taking over us.
"Y'know," Frank breathes out, letting the empty bottle fall to the floor as laying back on the bed. "I didn't really mean all of this. It actually hurts a lot to see you and Pete and I feel like I should show you how you make me feel," his words merge one into another as he speaks, slurring, but with sadness clear in his voice.
"I found out you were in the city just for the summer that year and you didn't want to tell me because you didn't want to see me sad. I didn't want to see you sad either," Frank explains, almost in a faint whine. "That's why I left before you. I didn't want to see you cry for leaving me because, damn," he breathes a chuckle, his eyes becoming glassy with tears as he stares at the ceiling. "You've always been so amazing, you're fantastic. And what am I? Some rat addicted to alcohol and drugs." He smiled sadly.
"Frank..." I say softly, furrowing my eyebrows at him. "You could've told me. I wasn't even too far. My aunt lived in NJ too and she took me in at the time because I told my family I wanted to stay there." I pause. "Because of you."
Frank's face is blank before it contorts bitterly, certainly noticing his mistake and all the useless pain it brought. My eyes widen as my heart sinks in guilt - I didn't mean to make him feel like this.
"So, you were just a few kilometers away from me?" He asks, his voice cracking as he suppresses a sob. A tear escapes his eye, sliding down his temple. "And just a single, stupid action took years away from us?" He blinks and more tears slide down his face.
My eyes sting as hot tears fill them and soon trail down my cheeks. Before Frank is able to say something else, I lean in and press my lips to his - I understand he's sad, I'm too, but I think we went through many years of pain to hurt more after things are finally cleared out.
Frank's lips move against mine in an almost desperate manner, like if pleading for more, like if I was able to take all the pain away from him. I deepen the kiss, soon craving him more, and climb on top of Frank, one of my knees between his thighs. He hums in certain appreciation, one of his hands tangling with my hair while wrapping an arm around my shoulders, parting his lips almost in an invitation.
Vodka is obvious in Frank's mouth along with the faint taste of a cigarette he probably had earlier. The kiss still feels the same as in that summer, bringing me back to that year, making me feel like if I'm hanging out with him in his bedroom at his parent's place again and with the risk of someone walking in in any second - I sigh against his lips feeling him shift, managing to change our positions. He hovers over me with his fingers poking under my shirt; I groan in some kind of approval, my hands sliding down his upper back as he starts kissing my jaw, nibbling here and there.
"Wait, don't go in there!" Patrick's voice comes from the other side of the door, followed by a question from an unknown voice and I just register it's Pete's when he bursts in the room, eyeing me in disbelief. I immediately freeze, my hands still on Frank as I eye the other male in disbelief. I may be drunk - or almost, at least -, but it doesn't take much to recognize I fucked things up.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Pete shouts, stepping closer. "Get your hands off (y/n) right now!" He yells at Frank - who didn't care about the interruption and his hands continued trailing up my torso - and throws Frank off me, making him grumble a bit. It's easy for Pete to notice my tipsy state, apparently; his eyes widen at me, "(y/n)! Did he make you get drunk?"
Pete doesn't even wait for an answer before starting to shout at Frank and I sit up to watch them better, fixing my clothes. I'm unable to do anything since things may go wrong with whatever side I choose.
Frank however, doesn't let cower up before Pete's shouting - he seems to suddenly sober up a bit and struggles to stand up, but shouts back. "You don't know what happened earlier in this room," Frank justifies himself, angrily. "You don't know (y/n) like I do, stop! I didn't plan to get (y/n) drunk or whatever, don't you think I'd be this much of an asshole! Unlike you, I know (y/n)'s value," some of his words go out slurred, but he seems confident of everything.
I suddenly notice music and turn to the door to see Ray and Patrick vanished while Joe stands there, watching the two males discussing with an amused expression on his face. The music most likely comes from his phone and I can recognize it as Vivaldi's Summer from The Four Seasons since he barely shut up about it in the past days.
"It doesn't matter, with the way acted since you met again," Pete snapped back. "You don't deserve (y/n)'s love. You weren't there during all the breakdowns, in the difficult and worst moments." He shot Frank an angry look and I could practically see fire in both males' eyes.
_____________