Ne Me Quitte Pas
Gerard takes a last drag of his cigarette before he crushes it in the ashtray, watching the last embers try to hang on to their color before they give up and are sucked away by the wind. He smiles and shakes his head and puts his hands in his pocket. He opens the door to the café and smiles again because there’s nobody in line. He orders a drink and pays and then a smiling young girl with dyed black hair puts a latte in his hand. He goes, “Hey thanks,” and he even adds, “Have a nice day!” before he shoulders out again and starts walking.
He’s drinking this latte, and it’s sweet enough, just enough. It’s really nice. It burns his throat just slightly when he swallows and he clutches his neck, sharp contrast to the cold outside. It hurts him a little and he thinks of Mikey. This doesn’t surprise him. There’s not much that he can think of that won’t bring him back to Mikey somehow. This time, it’s an image of Mikey packing up his suitcase, bouncing up and down on it.
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He’s laughing, and he beckons for Gerard. “Okay, now, now,” he wheezes.
Gerard falls forward on his knees and zips the bulging suitcase up the best he can. Mikey swings his skinny legs up so Gerard can work around him, and Gerard does get the damn thing closed, panting dramatically and resting his head on Mikey’s knees. He feels Mikey’s skinny fingers combing through his hair. “Oh, Christ,” he gasps. “Dude, you’d better not open that until you are totally sure you want it so, for all the hard work I put in.” He’s grinning against Mikey’s knees, just bone under the black denim.
“You’re such a fuckin’ drag queen, Gerard,” sighs Mikey. He’s still playing with Gerard’s hair, though, and that’s good enough. Gerard bites his knee, and he jerks away, laughing again. Gerard tries to pin his leg down so he can do it again, but Mikey threatens in a high, strained voice, “I’ll kick your teeth in if you try, dude, I will.”
“I won’t, I won’t, Jesus,” laughs Gerard. He raises his hands in surrender, pressing his lips together to show his good intentions.
Mikey regards him from up on the bed and grins down, softer. “Hey,” he says quietly. “C’mere.”
Gerard watches Mikey’s face. “Okay,” he says, and climbs up.
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“Dude, can I bum a cig from you?” asks a guy sitting on the stoop Gerard’s walking past.
Gerard glances down at him and nods. “Hang on just a sec,” he says around the cigarette between his own lips, fishing in his pocket for his Marlboros. The guy on the stoop grins, standing to take it from him. He’s got thick glasses and thin, wispy blond hair, and Gerard tries not to get dragged into Mikey again, but of course he’s going to be reminded. He grins at the guy and the guy grins back, kind of pre-packaged and cool. Gerard doesn’t mind. “Here,” he says, holding a new cigarette between his fingers.
“Thanks so much. Hey, um.” He glances down. “You got a light?”
Gerard chuckles. “Needy,” he says, pulling out his lighter and beckoning the guy to move in a little closer. He does, and their hands brush when he lights him up. The guy’s face is red from cold but it kind of looks like he’s blushing.
“Relying on the kindness of strangers, always,” he says dryly. It makes Gerard smile, but he can’t think up a witty retort, and then there’s a pause that’s probably awkward. “So, um,” the guy says, and for a minute Gerard’s curiosity is piqued and he’s not sure where he’s going, but then he says “Thanks,” and turns and sits back down on the steps.
“Oh,” says Gerard. “Yeah, no problem.”
It’s winter in New York City, and it’s cold. He breathes in nicotine and exhales slow. He looks at the guy for a second but he doesn’t want to bother him. He turns away and thinks about his brother, off with his wife and her family for Christmas. He’s lonely, a little bit. He thinks about Mikey’s suitcase, lying on his bed, and he feels a little warmer and he smiles.
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“What are you gonna do without me when I’m away?” sighs Mikey, resting his head on Gerard’s chest. He nudges up, silently asking him to pet his hair, which Gerard does. It’s a little stiff from product, but Gerard doesn’t mind. He stretches his legs. They nudge the suitcase, and Gerard pushes it away with his feet. He doesn’t want to think about it.
“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “Suffer, I guess? I just want you to have a good time.”
“I will,” Mikey assures him. He pauses, then he leans up. “Hey,” he says quietly. “Hey, hi.”
“Hi,” says Gerard back, amused. “Can I help you with something there?”
Mikey nods, shifting on the bed so he and Gerard are eye-to-eye. He presses his long nose against Gerard’s. Gerard feels his whole face go warm. “’m gonna miss you,” he says softly. “I am.”
“I know you are.” Gerard nudges his nose against Mikey’s, but it’s really Mikey who makes the next move, closing the distance to kiss Gerard, slow and warm, like they’ve got plenty of time.
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Gerard passes by this little tea garden behind a café, and he’s stricken with the wild urge to hop the fence and walk through it. The bushes are covered in snow. Ice coats the branches and it’s the sort of delicate thing that makes him wish he had paints with him, a bit of paper for sketching at least. On the other hand, his fingers are nearly frozen from cold, and he knows he should probably focus on just getting someplace warm.
He looks back at the little tea garden again. Mikey’d pull his hand and insist they hop the fence. Then his long legs’d get tangled in it, and he’d fall over the other side and blow their cover laughing shrill and stupid. Gerard grins just at the thought, knowing that next, he’d shut Mikey up by kissing him until his breath was gone.
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“Gee,” says Mikey quietly when they finally pull apart, lips red and a little sore.
“Mikes,” says Gerard back, grabbing his brother’s hips and pulling them to his own. Mikey giggles, pressing his face into Gerard’s neck, but then he stops laughing and just sighs.
“Gee, I’ve gotta get to the airport soon.”
Gerard closes his eyes. “Yeah, I know. ‘m driving you,” he mumbles.
Mikey looks him in the eyes, pressing their foreheads together again. His eyes merge, and Gerard grins despite feeling sadder than ever. “I’m coming back,” he says clearly. “I’m still-you’re still my favorite, more than anybody.”
“You’re mine, too,” says Gerard softly. He kisses him again. “I know you’re coming back.”
“Good.” Mikey laughs and rolls off the bed sideways. He grabs his suitcase with a huff of effort. “You’re not allowed to get melodramatic about this, okay?”
“I’m not! Jesus!” Gerard follows him and helps him carry the suitcase out the door. “You don’t matter to me that much, egomaniac.”
“Right, yeah,” says Mikey dryly, heaving the suitcase into the backseat. They get in the car and Gerard puts the key in the ignition. Mikey pulls him close and kisses him hard, catching Gerard off-guard. He swoons forward and nearly knocks them both into the window. “This isn’t forever,” he says. “It’s just a few weeks.”
Gerard nods.
“You and me, though, ‘re forever,” says Mikey quietly.
Gerard nods.
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He finishes his latte and his cigarette and throws away the trash. He wants to be held by someone. He’s thinking of his brother’s skinny arms. He’s wondering about that guy sitting on the steps. He sticks his hands in his pockets and thinks about spring, when Mikey will come back and they’ll unpack his suitcase and rejoice in being infinite.