Fandom: My Chemical Romance
Word Count: 5,971
Characters/Pairings: Frank/Gerard, Mikey, Ray, Bob, Matt, Mike
Summary: Gerard Way can't admit his feelings for Frank. He just can't. He can admit that he notices the way he seems to be hurting Frank, but it's not like he's suddenly going to change his whole life, possibly ruin his band, just to have some relationship. When he's visited by what seems to be the Ghosts of Drummers Past a few nights before Christmas, all of them trying to change his relationship with Frank so that they can make it work, he doesn't want to listen to them at first. A My Chemical Romance version of A Christmas Carol.
Notes: Many thanks to the mods for running this! I don't think I would have ever thought of this story without this challenge. And to littlblackghost and red_ones_fly for being some of the best people in my life. And of course, to the awesome person who did fanart for my story, theroaringspam. Thank you all!
Link to art master post: Art by theroaringspam
The fic can also be found on AO3: here
Gerard strutted across the stage, shooting a knowing smirk out at the audience. As ‘Prison,’ started up, he made his way over to Ray, lightly touching his shoulder as he walked in a half circle around him. Then, he made his way over to Mikey, kissing his brother on the cheek when he could pause between words. It wasn’t such a struggle to perform his little act for the audience and remember to sing the words. After years of doing this, it was all muscle memory. Or whatever you wanted to call it.
Once he was done with Mikey, he blew a kiss at their touring drummer. He couldn’t really remember his name. The guy had been with them a few shows, so he didn’t really matter to Gerard. After that, he focused all of his attention on the one person who wasn’t for the audience. Frank.
He was bent over his guitar, his complete focus on playing the song. Gerard smirked and headed over towards him, stalking forward and putting his hand on the small of Frank’s back. He felt Frank flinch beneath his hand, like he didn’t know that Gerard was so close.
Gerard glanced out to the audience, making sure he had their attention, before he licked a long stripe up Frank’s neck to his ear. Frank shivered and then redoubled his effort to keep his focus on his guitar.
Suddenly, Gerard had had enough. It wasn’t that he didn’t know about Frank’s feeling for him. Mikey had been telling him for years to get over himself and admit that he liked Frank too. It was just that no one knew he was gay. One bisexual guy in the band, sure. That was fine. But a bisexual guy and a gay guy? The thought of sex with a woman might make Gerard feel like he could throw up forever, but he wasn’t dumb. He didn’t want his band to be labeled as a bunch of ‘emo fags,’ and have it be true. So, he would play with Frank for now and pretend that being a diva was all a part of the act.
Finally, he grabbed Frank by his hair, yanking his head back so that he could kiss him, lightly grinding against his hip and then quickly moving away from him. He ignored Mikey’s frown as he walked to the center of the stage, singing out towards the audience. Yeah, this could work for now. As they shifted into their next song, his thoughts had already left Frank as he was considering what to get his mom for Christmas.
That night, they had a hotel night. Ray and Mikey were sharing and somehow, Gerard and Frank each ended up with a room to themselves. Gerard decided to go to sleep early that night. They had to be up at six the next morning to travel to the next show and he wasn’t going to be in the mood to sleep on the bus.
He was just settling down in his bed, eyes closed and thoughts drifting off, when he heard the sound of someone knocking on his door. He groaned and sat up, staring at the door and wondering if he could just ignore whoever it was.
Finally, after the insistent knocking finally annoyed him enough to make him move, he got out of the bed and quickly walked across the floor. It was cold that night. Christmas was only a few days away and pretty soon they would finish up their last two shows and head back to Jersey to spend Christmas with their families. Still, he couldn’t ignore the way goose bumps broke out on his arms from the simple journey from the hotel bed to the door.
Before he could even get there, the door swung open on its hinges, knocking back against the wall. He jumped back at the figure there. Only a silhouette from the contrast of the light in the hallway and the darkness of the hotel room. But he could catch the glint of the knife in the person’s hand.
He stumbled back, gasping when the person rushed forward, door shutting behind them without anyone touching it. And then the person was pressing him into the wall, knife at his throat. The blade was cool against his skin and suddenly, Gerard wished that he was rooming with someone. Anyone who could protect him from this lunatic wearing a hockey mask. He felt the sharp sting of the blade pressing into his skin before the guy stepped back and ripped off the mask, a smirk on his face. “Hey, Gee.”
Gerard spluttered, “Matt?!”
Matt grinned at him and nodded his head. “How have you been? No, wait. I know. I’m here on an important mission.”
Gerard really doubted that. He hadn’t seen this guy in years, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t put it past the other guys to pull an elaborate prank on him. “Sure. Who put you up to this?”
Matt shook his head, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Gerard.” He put the mask back on and tilted his head to the side, like he was trying to figure something out. “I’m here to teach you a lesson.”
Gerard chuckled nervously, “A lesson?”
And then suddenly, Matt was reaching out and wrapping his fingers painfully tight around his wrist. “A lesson,” he hissed.
And before Gerard knew what was happening, it felt like he was falling. And as soon as the feeling hit him, it was gone and replaced by pain. He rubbed his back and sat up slowly, glancing around. They were backstage somewhere. He frowned and stood up, looking at Matt who was standing and acting like nothing had happened at all. What the fuck?
Matt grabbed him by the arm, hauling him from his spot on the floor and over towards the stage. Gerard glanced out, wondering what band was there. It took him a few moments to realize it was his band. “What the fuck?”
A guy walked right past them, not even taking any time to look at them. Gerard stared after the guy, wondering why he hadn’t noticed them. Matt shrugged his shoulders, “They can’t see us.”
And wow, this was just getting weirder by the second. He glanced back to the stage, noticing that this was their time touring with the Revenge album. Way before Projekt Revolution. He placed this around 2005.
He watched their performance, as they all worked off each other to give the audience the best performance that they could. And then, inevitably, he waltzed up to Frank and stuck his hand down his shirt, plastering himself to the rhythm guitarist’s back and nipping at his ear. He moved away from him quickly, but the thing he never noticed was the look of almost hurt and confusion that crossed Frank’s face.
Huh. He had a feeling Frank had a crush on him, but he didn’t know it would manifest like that. To where Gerard had enough power to actually hurt him. But, it didn’t matter. They were in different places now.
And that was when the scene changed again, and this time when they landed, Gerard had enough sense to try to land on his feet and not his ass.
He glanced around and gasped, looking around the interior of a building he hoped to never see again. “Is this…”
Matt nodded his head, swinging the knife around like it was normal. “Yup. The Paramour.”
And really, Gerard would swear that this time, right here, was one of the worst for them as a band. They just couldn’t handle being in this place for too long.
He heard raised voices coming from a few rooms over and before he knew it, Matt was ushering him to the room and pushing him through the doorway. And that was when Gerard remembered. The fight he had with Frank. Right before he didn’t talk to him for the rest of their stay at the mansion and even for a couple of weeks afterwards.
Frank was up in his face now. “You don’t care, Gerard! You’ve never cared!” They were at the end of the fight now. Any second now, Frank was going to storm out of the room and Gerard wouldn’t see him for a while after that.
Gerard, the version of himself that he was watching now, sneered in Frank’s face and then pushed his shoulders, watching in satisfaction as Frank stumbled back. “Yeah? Well maybe I just don’t care about you.”
Frank’s mouth dropped open before he went back towards Gerard. From this angle, Gerard could see the fist behind Frank’s back, like he wanted to punch Gerard so badly. But he didn’t. Instead, he walked out of the room.
Gerard watched him go. This wasn’t right. They weren’t supposed to fight like that. But he remembered the mansion. All of the things it had done to them. He turned around to see himself collapsing back onto the couch, not a care in the world that he had just hurt one of his best friends.
For the first time, he could feel a small twinge of disgust well up within him. Disgust at himself.
Matt reached out and touched his arm, “Come on, there’s one more thing I want to show you.”
Gerard glanced at him before he was falling again, this time landing at another concert. He noticed with surprise that they were actually on the stage this time. This was weird. Definitely weird. But he knew that no one could see them.
Matt tapped him on the shoulder and nodded towards himself, singing a song that he realized a few seconds later was Helena. The song was soon over and then they went straight into Prison and oh fuck, Gerard knew this one. It was the song where he would always go up to Frank or wait for Frank to come to him.
It wasn’t long before he sauntered over to the guitarist, pulling his head back roughly by his hair and then kissing him. Frank’s hands stilled on the guitar, his left hand coming up to cup the back of Gerard’s neck, before he was pushing away from Gerard and shaking his head.
Gerard watched the scene with a fresh perspective. The way he just walked away, like he thought it was a part of Frank’s act. But he could see the hurt and dismay in his expression. Something he was too self-involved to ever notice before.
Just when he was about to reach out, maybe try to touch Frank’s arm, they were falling again. He gasped in surprise when he fell onto the hotel bed. He was back in his own time. Once he was sure he was in 2011, he looked back to Matt. “What the fuck was that?”
Matt shrugged his shoulders. “You’re supposed to tell me, Gerard.” He grinned as he threw the knife down, the blade stuck in the carpet.
Gerard stared at it for a few seconds before he glanced back up at Matt. “What?”
Matt huffed out a breath and threw the mask towards him, “You’re supposed to learn a lesson from all of this, you know? You’re not dumb, Gerard. But you’re kind of a diva. Which is just as worse. So fix it. And maybe when the next person shows up, you can figure out what we’re trying to accomplish.”
Gerard opened his mouth to protest. To say anything. But between one blink and the next, Matt was gone. He stared at the space he had just occupied, mouth hanging open in complete shock. He hadn’t touched any drugs in years. So, what the fuck was happening to him?
He decided that he could go back to sleep. Maybe in the morning, he could convince himself that the whole thing had been some fucked up dream. But for now, he was going to forget all about Frank Iero and the things Gerard had done to hurt him.
Just as he was drifting off, there was another knock on his hotel door. He groaned and glanced at the clock, surprised when he noticed that it was half past two in the morning.
He sighed to himself and got up from the bed, knowing that it would be stupid to ignore whoever it was now. When he opened the door, he was shocked to see Bob standing there. But, Bob looked a lot like Frankenstein’s monster. He walked into the room, pushing past Gerard with a grunt. And okay, yeah. Gerard could get it. “Bob?”
Bob turned around to look at him. “Yeah. It’s me, Gee. I’m here to talk to you. Show you a few things.”
And really, Gerard was so fucking tired of this already. “What things?” His voice was pointed. Almost angry and sharp enough to have Bob raising an eyebrow at him in defiance.
Bob turned away from him, staring at the door for a few seconds before he glanced back at him. “You know,” he said in a quiet, level voice, “I don’t have to be here. I don’t have to look like this. I can manifest as something worse. So you better stop acting like such a fucking bitch and get with the program, okay?”
And for the first time of the night, Gerard wondered what was doing this to him. What was the lesson he was supposed to learn? It didn’t add up. At all. But he supposed that Bob would help him figure it out. “Fine. What are we doing?”
Bob grabbed his arm. “We’re going to visit a couple of friends.”
And then, Bob was pushing him through a few walls, glimpses of hotel rooms here and there, before they stopped in one a few rooms down. He was surprised to note that it was Frank’s room. Frank was sitting on the hotel bed, one leg dangling off the side while he stared at Mikey, who was sitting in the armchair by the window.
Frank shook his head. “You don’t get it, Mikey.”
Mikey rolled his eyes. “I think I do, Frank. Listen, you can’t let Gerard do this to you. He’s an asshole, yeah, but he doesn’t know what he’s doing. In his head, he’s ignoring your feelings because he sees that as the best direction for the band. But if he knew? If he really knew how this was making you feel, then I think he would quit the act. You have to understand that. You have to talk to him.”
Frank laughed darkly, his eyes narrowing as he stared at Mikey. “Oh, so I tell the little diva about my feelings and he suddenly sees the light? Yeah, right. You know him Mikey. Better than any of us. Gerard Way changes for no one.”
Gerard was about ready to stomp out of the room. He settled for flailing and yelling, “Will everyone stop calling me a diva?!”
Bob snorted. “It’s true, dude.”
Gerard rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He felt like punching someone in the face. But the only person he could probably make physical contact with was Bob, and well…no. Bob could beat the shit out of him. Even if this wasn’t necessarily Bob that he was seeing.
Bob glanced at him, as if he could read his thoughts, and that scared him even more. He wasn’t sure what he was doing in Frank’s room and why he was watching the guy practically have a meltdown in front of his little brother, but he wanted it to stop. He was hurting Frank. Okay. He realized that. He would stop flirting with him. Stop everything with him. He had to admit that he didn’t like the pain that he was causing Frank, but he couldn’t exactly come out, could he? That led to complications and if Gerard was completely honest with himself, he would avoid any problems that he could.
Bob sighed and then reached out to touch his arm. “Gerard, you have to see what you’re doing here. How can you not?”
Gerard cocked his hip out to the side and crossed his arms over his chest. “What would you even know, Bryar? You’re not here. You can’t tell me what to do. I am a grown man and I can do what I want to!”
Bob narrowed his eyes, a growl emitting from his throat. “Is that what you think, Gerard? You think that just because you’re in your thirties that you can do whatever the fuck you want? Just because you’re famous.”
Gerard knew he was going to regret this. But, he couldn’t back down now. Not when Bob was there and looking at him like he was the dumbest person alive. “Of course. I mean, I’m still here and you aren’t. Obviously, I’ve been doing things right all along.”
Bob sneered, a look in his eyes that had Gerard stumbling back. He reached out, nails digging into Gerard’s arm, before he growled at him. “If that’s the case, then you’re going to love the next person.”
And then Gerard was back in his hotel room, standing awkwardly in the middle between the bed and the door. Bob wasn’t there anymore. And oh fuck, he was going to have another visitor? This wasn’t fair.
He settled back onto the bed, watching the door. He wasn’t sure who was going to show up. And a part of him never wanted to know. The way Bob had looked at him made him realize that maybe, just maybe, he was being a bit unreasonable with all of this. Like, he knew he liked Frank. A lot. But, there were so many things holding him back. What would the fans think? Sure, they liked it when they kissed onstage or rubbed up against each other, but what would they think if they knew that there was something real behind the actions?
They would probably glare and spit at them and then call them horrible names. Really. Why couldn’t Frank see that he was trying to save him from that? But what if Frank already knew that could happen and wanted the relationship anyway? He couldn’t help but feel that Frank was a million times braver than he would ever be.
He was half asleep when he heard a shuffling noise. Part of him wondered if it was the third person already, but there wasn’t a knock on the door. He frowned, eyes still closed, before he heard it again. This time, it seemed like the sound was even closer to his bed.
After a few seconds, he forced himself to open his eyes, gazing around the room without fully opening his eyes. It took him a second to realize that he wasn’t alone in his room before he felt a hand around his throat. He choked on his own breath before he stared up with wide eyes at the figure beside his bed.
They were wearing a black cloak with a hood so that Gerard couldn’t see their face. He noticed that they were also holding a scythe. Oh, fuck. He was going to die. That’s what Bob was talking about, right? The reaper snarled at him, before it began laughing, a dark chuckle that made Gerard cringe. He was screwed.
But then, the reaper took its hand off his throat and then threw the hood back so that Gerard could see who it was. “Pedicone?”
Mike grinned at him, a manic smile that had Gerard scooting away from him. This wasn’t Mike. He had never been capable of ever looking like that, even if his relationship with the band had ended on a crappy note. But whatever this was, the ghosts of drummers past, they were haunting him now and they were all appealing to his love of horror. But this one. This one was the worst, because the almost delighted, evil glint in his eyes had Gerard wondering if he was about to die. Like, where the other two had failed to really teach him a lesson, this one was going to make up for it.
Mike reached forward and drawled, “I’m sure you know the drill by now, Gerard. Let’s go.”
And before he could say anything, they were moving again. This time, they ended up in a recording studio. One that Gerard definitely didn’t recognize. He glanced around and saw Mikey and Ray, and some guy he didn’t recognize. “Who’s that? Where’s Frank?”
Just then, Gerard walked in, and wow that was weird to think about when he was standing right there.
Pedicone rolled his eyes, like he just hated to explain anything. “I took us two years into the future, Gerard. Now, listen.”
Gerard sighed and slumped back against the wall, watching the scene before him unfold. His future self walked towards Ray. “Did you figure out the guitar part on that one song? You know, the one with the metaphors with the blood and zombies?”
Ray frowned. “I’m trying, but…” his eyes strayed over towards the stranger before they snapped back up to stare at Gerard. “It’s a little difficult right now, Gee. If Frank were here…”
His future self raised a hand. “Please, do not talk about that. I don’t even want to think about that right now.”
And no. Just no. That couldn’t happen. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. This stranger was…Frank’s replacement? He couldn’t even believe it. Something huge and heavy dropped down into his stomach, something like terror that seized him and made him feel like he was going to throw up.
Mikey snorted from his seat on the couch. “Yeah, well it’s not like it’s our fault or anything.”
Gerard was sure he had never heard his younger brother take that tone of voice with him. It just never happened. Mikey hardly ever got angry enough to sound like that.
He watched in horror as his future self flipped off Mikey, taking the time to roll his eyes. “Whatever, Mikey. Why don’t you fuck off?”
Ray’s eyes were wide now, like he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. Like he had had to deal with fights between the brothers a lot lately.
Gerard watched in dismay as Mikey suddenly got up from the couch and stormed out of the room. He didn’t even realize that his arm was outstretched, fingers twitching minutely in the air like he was going to reach out for Mikey, try to comfort him. But, this wasn’t his time. He wasn’t even technically there, only watching the scenes from the outside.
Ray glanced uncertainly up at Gerard. “Gee…”
Gerard shook his head and walked off. “Let him go. Let him leave for all I care. We don’t need him.” The future version of Gerard then stormed past them and out the door.
Gerard felt like he was going to hyperventilate. All because he had been a stupid diva, and yes he would admit that he had been acting like a diva, he had broken up his band. Had made Mikey somewhat hate him. Had driven Frank away. And now Ray looked like he was five seconds away from quitting as well. Holy fuck. How could he be so stupid?
Pedicone nudged him in the side, “So, you ruined everyone’s lives. Happy?”
Gerard shook his head frantically. “No. This wasn’t me. I wouldn’t have let it get to this.”
Pedicone shrugged his shoulders and cocked his head to the side, like he was mocking Gerard. “Well, you kind of did. Actually, I know you did. This is your future, Gerard.”
Gerard wanted to cry or throw something or kick someone. This wasn’t fair. This couldn’t be his future. “No!” He flinched at the volume of his voice before he said, “This isn’t for me. I’ll fix it.”
Pedicone smirked, suddenly pressing the point of the scythe into Gerard’s shoulder, ripping the cloth of his t-shirt and making Gerard flinch from the pain he felt. “You sure?”
Gerard had to fight the tears threatening to spill out of his eyes before he could convince himself to nod his head. He said fiercely, “I’m fucking sure.”
Pedicone smirked and patted him on the head, pulling the hood back up so that when Gerard looked at him, he couldn’t see his face anymore. He shivered at the thought that nothing was really beneath the cloak before nails were digging into his arm, hard enough to almost draw blood.
And then, he was gasping on his bed, like he had just woken up. And hell, with the imagination he had, he could have just woken up. Maybe it was all some elaborate dream. Maybe none of it had ever happened and that horrible future he had envisioned wasn’t going to happen. Yeah…maybe.
Someone was banging on his door then, Mikey’s voice drifting through the wood and into the room. “Wake up, fuckface! We have to be on the bus in ten minutes.”
Gerard groaned and got up from the bed, rushing to get his bags, not bothering to change out of his pajamas. He was on the bus within eight minutes, walking immediately to the couch and collapsing onto the cushions. He groaned with how good it felt and even though he hated sleeping on the bus, he would totally doze off here. It was the only way he was going to stay sane because he felt like he hadn’t gotten any sleep whatsoever the night before.
He felt someone move his feet and when he squinted his eyes open; Frank was sitting down at the end of the couch and putting Gerard’s feet in his lap. Frank smiled at him, a look of uncertainty on his face. Gerard smiled back, burrowing himself further down into the couch cushions and making a noise of comfort when Frank’s began rubbing his thumb into Gerard’s ankle.
It was only a few days later when they were all back in Jersey that Gerard realized that he missed his band. More specifically, he missed Frank. He knew he promised Pedicone or whatever the hell that had been that he would fix it, but he couldn’t. There was so much on the line and he just wasn’t sure if Frank would accept it. It was Christmas Eve and Gerard was all alone in his house. He didn’t even want to think about what it meant that he was going to sleep at eight that night, staring at his reflection in the mirror with a solemn look on his face, before he sighed and crawled under the covers on his bed.
It was a really cold night and he wasn’t sure if he even had any plans for Christmas. It wasn’t like he couldn’t go over to Mikey’s, but that was it. Nothing planned with his band. And for a moment, he was remembered of that horrible dream that might not have been a dream with Pedicone and the other two drummers they had managed to lose.
He fell asleep that night with his thoughts centered around Frank, wondering if he would ever get the courage to speak to him like he had wanted to for years.
That night, he had dreams of running through hotel hallways, a pursuer always out of sight, and flashes of a scythe slashing through the air in his direction. He gasped when his eyes blinked open, a cold sweat already covering his skin. He glanced at the clock, surprised to see that it was already eight in the morning. “Merry Christmas,” he muttered to himself.
He pulled his shirt off, walking into the bathroom for a shower, when something caught his eye in the mirror. A mark on his shoulder. Why hadn’t he noticed it before? There was a second when a memory flashed in his mind, crystal clear and fear-inducing. The studio. The scythe. Cutting briefly into his shoulder. He ran out of the bathroom, quickly making his way to his laundry room and rifling through the clothes there until he found the shirt he had been wearing on that night.
He turned the shirt around in his hands until he found what he was looking for. A small cut in the fabric. Right where the cut on his shoulder would be. Holy fuck. He stumbled back into the wall when the realization dawned on him, the idea that he had known somehow all along. Everything had really happened. Seeing their past drummers. Watching the way he was hurting Frank just by not being man enough to own up to his feelings. The way that he had caused the destruction of his band. His beloved My Chemical Romance. And just, everything. If he didn’t fix it, then he would be sorry. And that was what the reaper had been trying to tell him. He had to do something about this. Now. No waiting around before it was too late.
He grabbed his car keys, barely managing to make sure he put a shirt back on before he braved the cold outside. He slipped a bit in the snow on the ground, making his way steadily to his car before he slid into the driver’s seat and waited until it cooperated with him enough that he could swing out onto the road.
He carefully drove over towards Frank’s house, hoping with everything that he had that he was there. Just his luck, he would show up to see him and he wouldn’t be there. He felt a small feeling of triumph well up within him at the sight of Frank’s car in the driveway. He carefully parked on the curb and made his way up the lawn, trying not to freak out too much when he slipped on the snow.
He walked up to the door, taking a few deep breaths, before he knocked on the door. It took a few more seconds before he could feel a shuffling on the other side of the door and then it was being slowly opened. Frank’s face peered out at him from the small space between the frame and the door. “Gerard?”
Gerard nodded his head and bit his lip, feeling like he was thirteen all over again and trying to flirt with a girl way out of his league. But this wasn’t some girl. No, this was Frank. The guy he had known for a decade. The guy who had been there for him at the worst times of his life. The guy he owed everything.
“Can I come in?” He had to struggle not to stutter. Why was this so hard?
Frank furrowed his eyebrows, like he wasn’t exactly sure what Gerard was asking, before he pulled the door open, allowing Gerard enough space to walk into the living room. Gerard glanced around before Frank smiled nervously at him. “Did you want anything to drink? I have some awesome hot chocolate.”
Gerard smiled at Frank, reaching out to touch his wrist lightly, but quickly pulling his hand back at the confused expression on Frank’s face. “That would be awesome, Frankie.”
Frank gestured for him to follow, walking to the kitchen and pulling out a chair for Gerard to sit down in as he went to the stove. Gerard watched him wordlessly as he worked around the kitchen, getting the packets of hot chocolate and pouring them into the mugs once the milk had boiled. He handed one of the mugs to Gerard, a spoon skating around the inside of the cup, before he put a bag of mini marshmallows down on the table. He sat opposite Gerard and took a careful, tentative sip of the hot chocolate.
“So, what’s up?”
Gerard stared down at the steam rising off the drink in front of him, taking a few seconds to breathe it in, before he glanced up at Frank. “I just wanted to see what you were doing today.”
Frank shrugged his shoulders. “I’m mostly staying home. Going to watch a few Christmas movies and bake cookies and drink hot chocolate. Maybe open the few presents I got.”
Gerard found himself laughing, trying to remember what he had gotten Frank. “You have to open the presents! It’s Christmas, Frank.”
Frank laughed and scraped a hand back through his hair. “I guess. You want to watch a movie?”
Gerard was going to agree with that plan. He could do that. But if they watched a movie, then they wouldn’t talk about what he wanted to. And then by that point, he might chicken out. And really, he couldn’t do that. If he could, then he had to do it now. And then maybe, if Frank didn’t hate him, then they could curl up and watch, ‘A Charlie Brown Christmas,’ together. He would like that.
When he zoned back in, Frank was staring at him, an almost worried look on his face. And oh. Gerard had to say something. Anything. Before he could stop it from happening, he found himself blurting out, “Do you like me?” And really, he could have slapped himself. Or maybe run into the wall…repeatedly.
Frank huffed out a laugh. “Of course I do. You’re one of my best friends.”
Gerard shook his head, feeling the urge to stand up and walk over to Frank, but he stayed where he was. “I like you, Frank.” Before Frank could say anything else, he reached across the table and grabbed his wrist, wrapping his fingers around it and squeezing. “I know I’ve been an idiot. A jackass, even. And I know you probably hate me at this point, but I’m really hoping that I can turn this around. I really, really like you Frank.”
Frank was blinking a lot, like he was trying to make sense of what Gerard was saying. “What?”
And then Gerard couldn’t help himself anymore. He got up and walked over to Frank, kneeling down and looking up at him with earnest eyes. “Frankie, we’ve known each other for so long. And I know I’ve been a bitch to you. But I would really like another chance. I’d really like a relationship with you.”
Frank opened and closed his mouth a lot, like he wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to say. “Uh?”
Gerard felt the sinking weight of dread in his chest. He had fucked it up. He knew it. He abruptly stood up and walked quickly out of the kitchen, making sure he had his car keys before he was stepping out of the front door. He felt a hand on his shoulder turning him around, before Frank’s lips were on his. He froze for a second, the familiarity of this seeming off because there weren’t thousands of screaming fans cheering them on, before he found it in himself to kiss back.
Frank hummed in content before he pulled away, eyes straying up towards the top of the door. Gerard glanced up to see mistletoe hanging there. He laughed nervously, hoping that wasn’t the only reason Frank had kissed him, before Frank pulled him the rest of the way into his house, shutting the door behind them. He kissed Gerard again, steering them over towards the couch before he pushed Gerard onto it and followed him down.
He pushed away from him long enough to fit his head right under Gerard’s chin, Gerard’s arms coming up automatically to wrap around Frank’s waist. He kissed the crown of Frank’s head before he said, “So are we going to watch a movie now?”
Frank huffed out a breath in amusement. “In a little while. Now that I finally have you, I just wanna stay here for a while. Is that okay?”
Gerard smiled. “Anything you want. Merry Christmas, Frankie.”
Frank grinned up at him and raised himself up enough to place a quick kiss on Gerard’s lips. “Merry Christmas, Gee.”