[Bandslash, MCR] Highway Run
Title: Highway Run
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Frank/Gerard, Bob/Ray
Genre: AU
Disclaimer: This is all completely made up, except for the part where these people actually exist.
Summary: See, the really messed up thing is that Ray, good old Ray, is their level-headed voice of reason, which is why everyone turns to stare when he nods and says, "I agree with Gerard. Come on you guys, road trip!"
Notes: A few months back I discovered Thule Trail which is a game based on the old Oregon Trail game. (It's an advertising gimmick, but it's free and fun to play.) This fic is the result of a game I played last night when I was waiting for the cold medicine to kick in. All mistakes are mine, of course. (Select screencaps from the game!)
ETA: You can download a ROM of the original Oregon Trail game and an emulator to run it on here.
5,771 words
The whole thing is Gerard's idea, which really? Should have been a giant warning sign right the fuck there.
"No, really you guys, it'll be awesome."
Frank thinks Gerard's delusional a lot (most) of the time, but they're sort-of dating and he's probably supposed to punch people who say things like that about his sort-of boyfriend. Thinks them. Whatever.
See, the really messed up thing is that Ray, good old Ray, is their level-headed voice of reason, which is why everyone turns to stare when he nods and says, "I agree with Gerard. Come on you guys, road trip!"
"I don't think it's a good idea."
Brian's not a voice of reason so much as the guy who ends up talking the cops down from charging them with felony crimes. He keeps them from having to worry about dropping the soap in the shower, something they're all grateful for even if they have a shitty way of showing it.
He always looks like he's thinking about strangling them in their sleep, but it's not like he doesn't have reason. He's known Gerard since they shared a dorm their freshman year, and even though Frank likes Gerard a lot he can't imagine the kind of hell that must have been for Brian.
Mikey's told them that Gerard's calmed down a lot, that he's leveled off or something since then, that the meds he's on now are helping and that Frank and the others have been good for Gerard. And, honestly, Frank really, really likes Gerard, but there are times even he wants to throttle him.
Privately Frank thinks Brian got exactly what he deserved for being one of those kids who got to skip grades to graduate high school early. If he wanted college badly enough to apply himself and study, he fucking well should have suffered.
"Okay, no. Seriously. Am I the only one who thinks this is a bad idea?"
Bob shrugs and sits back as if the entire conversation has nothing to do with him, and that's just total bullshit. Gerard's doing this for Bob. Bob who's leaving them to finish school down in Florida because the school down there has a better program.
It's not that Frank thinks the road trip is a bad idea, it's just. It's a bad idea.
Six guys crammed in a crappy little car for a cross-country road trip to a music festival is a recipe for a teen movie, or maybe a National Lampoon movie. Six guys, all crazy in their unique ways, crammed in a crappy little car on a cross-country road trip to a music festival is a recipe for a disaster movie. One of the ones that ends in tears and blood and fiery death.
"Road trip!" Gerard crows, bouncing a little in his chair.
Frank smirks when Ray does victory arms - like, physically does victory arms - and Brian tries to smother himself with one of the throw pillows.
Mikey chooses that moment to walk back into the room, phone still in hand, and looks around. "Road trip's on, huh?"
Gerard grins and Mikey's mouth twitches up into one of his almost-smiles.
====
====
The car, Frank refuses to look at it until he has to because it's a station wagon and that's just not cool no matter how reliable it is or how much leg room they'll have, is packed. The guys are in and out of the tiny little house they're renting, taking care of last minute things before they hit the road.
Frank's leaning against the old oak tree in the front yard enjoying the last real cup of coffee he's going to have for the next week while Gerard goes through his fifty page care instruction list for his hamsters with Matt.
Cortez, to his credit, is nodding and looking completely serious about the whole thing. They all know how Gerard is about his hamsters, and even though it's hilarious that he has leashes and tiny little harnesses that he uses to take them on walks around the neighborhood, they don't make fun of him for it.
They save the mockery for Mikey and the little antlers he makes out of pipe cleaners during the holiday season, even if they look cool. Mikey's good for that kind of thing.
Bob and Ray are sitting on the steps talking about something that has Ray laughing and gesturing emphatically with his hands, and Mikey's somewhere inside on the phone to Pete telling him about the Grand Adventure they're about to embark on. The last time Frank had seen Brian he was in the bathroom crying bitter tears or some shit.
"Hey, let's get this thing on the road already!" Frank yells, pushing off the tree trunk when Gerard looks like he's going to go through The List again, just in case Matt didn't get it the first two times. "Time's fucking wasting!"
Gerard looks up and smiles when their eyes meet, and seriously, Frank knows the whole thing is a bad idea, but for the life of him he can't remember why at the moment.
====
====
Five hours later Frank gets a reminder after the CD player breaks down and they're reduced to listening to a staticky radio station playing shitty disco.
Brian's knuckles are white where he's got his hands clamped on the steering wheel at ten and two, even though Frank thinks they changed it to nine and three a while back.
"Hey, didn't they - "
"No."
"No, no." Gerard's stupidly tenacious when he wants to be. "I'm pretty sure - Mikey? Didn't they change it to - "
"Gerard." Brian's the only person Frank knows in real life who can talk through clenched teeth. "Gerard, look. Flowers."
Frank looks out his window, and sure enough there's a patch of flowers on the side of the road. Like. A patch of flowers surrounded by overgrown grass, and they're miles from anywhere, which just makes it even more bizarre.
"Oh! Can we - "
Frank has to brace himself against the seat in front of him when Brian cranks the steering wheel hard to the right, brakes screeching as they come to a stop. Mikey slides across the seat into him, and yeah, even after all this time he's still a fucking bony bastard with his pointy elbows digging into Frank's internal organs.
"Uh. Thanks?" Gerard says, looking at Brian with wide eyes.
Brian turns his head and smiles, or at least Frank thinks it's supposed to be a smile, and pops the power locks.
Gerard climbs out of the passenger seat and stares at the flowers for a minute or two and then drops down, rolling onto his back and making a flower angel.
Bob and Ray finally look up from Ray's laptop where they've been working on something, some kind of project for one of their music classes they've been working on for forever even though they took the class last term.
"What is he doing?" Ray asks him, and Frank shrugs.
He just sort-of dates the guy, it's not like he knows what the hell goes on in his head.
"What the hell are you doing?" Bob yells, rolling his window down.
Gerard lifts his head and beams back at them, and Frank's stomach does that weird flippy thing it does whenever Gerard smiles like that. "Communing with nature, motherfuckers!"
Bob laughs and Ray shakes his head, Frank can see his hair moving at the corner of his eye. Mikey climbs over Frank and gets out of the car to join his brother and Frank is not surprised in the least when he follows a few seconds later.
====
====
Gerard insists that they pull over to check out every single scenic spot and historical marker they pass, and Brian quietly seethes as each stop puts them further behind their schedule.
Brian's actually pretty good about not freaking out at Gerard, or yelling at him unless he needs it. He does, however, have something of a mean streak sometimes, so Frank has a bad feeling when Gerard sticks a hand out the window to point out another brown and white sign.
“Fucking, ow. What the hell, Brian?”
“Oops. My bad.” Brian sounds less than sincere, but the look on his face keeps anyone, even Gerard, from commenting on it. “You know the buttons are so close to one another, and I hate looking away from the road when I'm driving.”
“Yeah, okay.” Gerard says, and tugs on his fingers, still trapped by the window. “Could you, um. Maybe unlock my window so I can get my hand out?”
Brian just smiles.
====
====
A few hours later they have to pull over because apparently Bob's tiny fucking bladder and a Big Gulp don't mesh well.
Gerard's bitching about Brian and his inhumane treatment of Gerard while Frank nods and pretends he isn't cracking up on the inside. Brian had left Gerard's hand stuck in the window for at least fifty miles, and Frank's probably the worst sort-of boyfriend ever for finding it funny as hell.
“Hey.” Gerard bumps his shoulder against Frank's and smiles. He looks tired, but it's the good kind of tired from spending the day on the road with friends. “This isn't a terrible idea, right? I mean, I know Brian's expecting us to all die before we reach the Midwest, but.”
Gerard shrugs, and looks towards the rest stop bathrooms where Ray's standing with Bob and Mikey, taking time to stretch their legs. Brian's staring the vending machine down like he's expecting it to spit his money back out instead of keeping it and all of its sinfully tantalizing treats.
“No.” Frank says, and he actually means it. This is pretty much the last chance the six of them are going to get to spend any sort of time like this together before they graduate and scatter to all corners of the world, and that thought makes something ache in Frank's chest. So. No. Not such a bad idea at all. “It's a good idea, Gerard. The best.”
Gerard laughs at that and Frank turns his head to see that fucking smile of his while he still can.
“Come on, we should stop Brian before he tries to take that stupid vending machine down.”
Frank sets off across the parking lot with Gerard at his side and tries not to think about what comes later, after.
Bob's the start of it, the first to go, but it won't be long after that before Gerard, Brian, and Ray graduate. Go off to start their lives in the real world, away from college and Mikey and Frank. Mikey, Frank knows, has been the only sure constant in Gerard's life from the day he was born, and always will be.
It's everything else in Gerard's life, and Frank's place in it in particular that he's not so sure about.
====
====
A few days later they're going a little crazy, the CD player's still broken and they're out of range of any radio stations, even the ones with craptastic music when they hit the tunnels.
Ray's got shotgun with Bob driving, and Brian's curled up in the back with everyone's jackets piled on him for warmth. Gerard's squeezed in with Mikey and Frank in the middle seats, and it's Frank's idea to play road trip games.
“Tunnel!”
Gerard and Mikey stare at him like he's an alien, which no. At least he knows the fucking road trip game rules, they didn't even know the things about bridges until Frank and Ray explained it to them.
“Okay, okay. It's really simple.” Frank says, shaking his head while Ray tries to disguise his laughter as the most unconvincing coughing fit in just about ever. “You just. God, I can't believe I have to explain this. You hold your breath.”
“Why?”
Frank stares at Mikey because the little shit's just messing with him now. Mikey knows there's no logic involved when it comes to road trip games. They're just something parents came up with to keep them from driving off a cliff when their kids keep asking if they're there yet.
“I don't - You just do, okay?”
Bob snorts and Frank glares at him in the rearview. “Shut it, Bryar. Remember to do your part when the time comes.”
Gerard and Mikey look even more confused, but Bob nods, still smirking, the fucker.
They've gone through several tunnels by that point, and Frank's a little anxious that there aren't any more when Ray twists around in his seat and looks back at them, eyes wide and says in an overly solemn voice, “It's time.”
Frank flips him off for that, but leans forward a little to see that they're coming up on another tunnel. When he looks over at Ray he sees him smiling, really smiling and not just making fun of Frank and the others.
“Okay, remember. All you do is hold your breath.” Frank says as he sits back.
Gerard and Mikey share this look like they still think he's the crazy one, and Frank rolls his eyes, but they're at the start at the tunnel before he can do more than take a breath and hold it. Bob meets his eyes in the rearview and lays on the horn the moment they enter the tunnel, Ray's laughter filling the car.
The only thing wrong is that it's the longest fucking tunnel in the entire world and Frank hears Gerard panting for breath before they're even a third of the way through. It's not unexpected with the way he inhales his cigarettes. Frank gives up just after the halfway point, but fucking Mikey.
Jesus, stupid fucking Mikey holds on until he just slumps against Frank right as they break out of the tunnel into daylight on a downward stretch of road.
“Oh, shit.” Gerard's voice in his ear, soft and worried, borderline panic. “Frank. Frank I think we killed Mikey.”
Frank opens his mouth to say something, but Mikey's still laying all over him and not really moving.
“Oh, shit.” He looks up to see Gerard frowning and only Mikey, only stupid fucking Mikey would kill himself playing a stupid road trip game. “How mad are your parents going to be?”
Ray turns around to look at them, and Frank can feel someone breathing down his neck. He doesn't need to look to know it's Brian.
“I will kill all of you assholes if there's a dead body in my mom's car.”
Mikey twitches and Frank looks down at him, trying not to show how worried he really was that they'd killed him.
“I'm not dead, you fuckers.” Mikey slurs out, but he's blinking a lot and doesn't look all that good.
Bob sighs, and Ray's still looking at them, so it's a good thing there's a rest stop ahead because Frank thinks they could all use a break, and he might actually live if he has enough of a running start before Brian catches up.
====
====
They've been sleeping in the car or camping out on rest stop picnic tables to save money, but the night they almost kill Mikey they pool their money and get a motel room.
Mikey keeps protesting, saying he's fine but Gerard, Ray, and Brian overrule him. Bob just stands by waiting for the word to sling Mikey over his shoulder and carry him into the dingy motel room if they need him to. Frank stands behind him trying not to fidget or draw attention to himself.
He feels bad about almost killing Mikey, even though the others don't seem to think he's to blame.
“You didn't really explain how to play the game.” Brian points out as he slides up next to Frank leaning against the motel's wall, which would be freakier if Frank didn't already know about Brian's ability to read minds.
Frank's still thinking about the way Gerard had led Mikey around the rest stop when they'd pulled over after the tunnel. He'd been shaky like a newborn colt, and only the fact that Mikey had been quietly bitching the whole time had kept Frank from wanting to punch something. Himself, for starters.
“I didn't - “
“No.” Brian agrees, shoving his hands in his pockets. “We know that, but it's Mikey. He's not an idiot, he just. He doesn't always think the way we do.”
And, really, that's the Way brothers in a nutshell.
“It's just a game!” Frank's seriously not going to freak out about this, he's not. “It's a stupid fucking game and he - “
“It's Mikey.” Brian says, and shrugs, because there's really not much else to be said about it. “Now knock this shit off and come inside. There's some kind of horror movie marathon on and Gerard's flipping his shit over it.”
Frank tries out a smile, and if it's a little uneven Brian doesn't mention it.
====
====
Gerard, Mikey, and Ray drag Brian off to see something - “It had better not be a giant fucking ball of twine!” - a couple of states over while Bob and Frank get the car gassed up and clean bug guts off the windshield.
The whole thing's nasty and after ten minutes trying scrape off what Frank thinks used to be a grasshopper and Bob says was a dragonfly they cough up the five dollars for the automated car wash.
It's mid-afternoon and they're almost at the halfway point of the trip, and everyone's feeling tired and cranky. Bob hasn't really been talking for a couple of days now, even to Ray, and that's how Frank knows something's going on.
“What the hell's going on with you guys?” Frank asks, sucking on a piece of ice from his Big Gulp while Bob drops a quarter into the coin slot for the vacuum. “You're, like, ignoring Ray.”
Bob's shoulders practically snap back, and Frank edges away from him when Bob turns around.
Bob's not a bully or even really an aggressive sort of guy, he's just. Bob's a big guy and Frank's not. Frank has little guy instincts, and there are times even Bob pings them, usually without meaning to.
Frank's not so sure that's the case this time.
“It's none of your business, Iero.”
And, see, no. Hell no, even.
“Fuck that, Bryar.” Frank sneers right back, and now all of his little guy instincts are nowhere to be found because he's pushing forward, poking Bob in the chest and he's pissed. Ready to throw down with Bob motherfucking Bryar in the middle of a gas station parking lot pissed. “You don't. Have you even seen Ray lately? No one, not even you gets to do that to him, okay? You just. You don't.”
Ray's fucking golden. He's the one that's kept them together this long, that's kept them from snapping and killing one another, and he's the one who gives enough of a shit to care when everyone else is caught up in their own dramas.
“Frank - “
“No.” Frank's not going to listen to Bob's excuses because he's going to fix it, fix whatever he said or did to make Ray shut down. “Fix it, okay? Just fucking fix it, or there will be nowhere you can hide from me.”
The thing is, Frank's serious. He loves Bob because Bob puts up with his shit when the others won't. He lets Frank climb all over him and gives him piggyback rides, but Frank won't hesitate to kick his ass if he has to. Bob knows that, they all know that.
“It's not that simple, Frank.”
Frank snorts and crosses his arms because really? It is. Everyone but Bob has known about Ray's stupid thing for stupid Bob for a while now, but apparently Bob's stupider than anyone expected. They all thought that since Bob and Ray are the - relatively speaking - smart ones out of their group that they'd work it out before things turned into a fucking drama.
“Okay, look. Do you like Ray? Yes or no?” Frank holds out a hand before Bob can give him the easy answer because everyone likes Ray. Everyone with a soul, at least. “No, I'm serious, Bob. Do you like him?”
Frank's kind of disgusted with Bob for making Frank feel like he's back in junior high again. He half expects Bob to give him a note to pass to Ray after lunch. The look on Bob's face is saying the same thing is running through his head, but he nods. The tiniest possible sort of nod Frank's ever seen, but it's there.
“Okay then. Fucking great. Tell him.”
Bob stares at Frank a little helplessly, which is not something Frank ever thought he'd see coming from Bob.
“Bob. You really can't be this dumb.”
But, oh, he is. Frank can see it written all over stupid Bob's stupid face.
“Christ. Bob, I'm giving you until tomorrow night. Either you tell him, or I do. And trust me when I say this, but you really don't want that.”
Bob glares at him, but Frank's not backing down.
“Florida.”
Frank blinks and cocks his head to the side. “What?”
“I'm going to school in Florida next fall, Frank. That's really fucking far away.”
And, yes, thank you. It is. Frank's taken a geography class or two in his time. “I'm not seeing what the problem is here.” Except for how he does, he's just waiting for Bob to point it out so Frank can poke huge fucking holes in whatever flawed excuse Bob's going to trot out in defense of his cowardice.
Bob sighs like this whole conversation is taking more out of him than it seems, and really, Frank knows it is. It's sucking the life out of him and it isn't even really his heart on the line at the moment, so that maybe explains why he just wants to curl up under a blanket and never come out even more.
“Long distance relationships - “
“That's bullshit, and you know it.” Frank knows where Bob's going, can recite all the excuses with him, but the truth is if Bob means it, if he cares half as much as Ray obviously does, they could make it work. They'd probably be the only two people Frank's ever known who could. “We're talking about Ray, here. Do you really think he'd pull something like that with you?”
“We're kids, Frank. Fucking kids, what the hell do we know about shit? What if he wakes up one day and realizes he could do - “
And, see, it's not like Frank goes around punching his friends all the time, or even some of the time, but there are times when they just really, really deserve it.
Frank shakes out his hand because Bob's jaw is made of stone while Bob just staggers back a few steps. He's staring at Frank like he can't believe Frank hit him, and if he doesn't get his head straightened out Frank's not going to stop with that first blow.
“Don't finish that sentence. Ever.”
Bob doesn't say anything, just wipes the blood off his face, and Christ, but Frank feels tired.
He sighs and walks over to where his Big Gulp is spread out over the ground and picks it up, tipping the cup over to pour some ice into his hand. Bob's watching him, a little warily like he thinks Frank's going to go after him again.
“Get over here. We need to put some ice on that.”
Bob doesn't move, and Frank snorts, tries not to but finds himself laughing like a fucking lunatic, arms curled around his ribs because his friends are so goddamned stupid sometimes it hurts.
He looks up when he hears footsteps and sees Bob looking down at him, a confused frown on his face and Frank smiles, perfectly aware that it doesn't fit quite right on his face.
It's not his heart on the line this time, but it will be soon enough and if nothing else he wants this to go right for Bob and Ray. He wants them to have one another if they can, for however long they can make it work. He thinks they could make forever just fine, it's getting them started that's the problem.
“It'll be okay, Bob. Just. Give it a chance, all right? It's Ray, he's worth it, isn't he?”
Bob sighs and takes the half-melted ice from Frank, wrapping it in that stupid handkerchief he's been carrying around on the whole road trip like some sort of talisman.
“You hit like a girl, Iero.” He says, and grabs Frank's hand, turning it over to settle the ice across his knuckles.
It's not an answer, not really, but Frank knows he got his message across. Bob's not that stupid.
====
====
“So. Vegas tomorrow, huh?”
They're staying at the house of someone Mikey knows through Pete who knows someone who knows someone, Frank's not clear on the details. All he cares about is that they're not crammed into the car for the night or freezing their asses off trying to rough it in some rest stop or camp ground.
Gerard's all tired, sleepy eyes and chaotic hair and Frank feels his heart do that thing it does whenever he looks at Gerard now. Like there's a clock ticking away the time, a little voice in the back of his head telling him his time's running out, that he only has so much longer.
“Yeah.” Frank coughs to clear his throat and looks away for a moment. He's not sure if that makes it easier or if he just thinks it does, but it helps. “But hey, whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?”
Gerard laughs when Frank looks back at him and waggles his eyebrows, and yeah.
They look over when a dog somewhere down the street starts barking and something knocks a trashcan over with a clatter. “With our luck it's an escaped convict or something.”
And Frank has a hard time not smiling because Gerard's always been good for the worst possible scenario like that.
“And to think your idea for a children's book was rejected.” Frank mutters, as he moves a little closer to him, just for warmth. It's fucking cold. “Shocked. I'm shocked I tell you.”
Gerard bitches and kicks Frank's ankle before settling against the car next to Frank. “Mikey tells me I'm being dumb.” Gerard ventures after a few minutes. He sounds uncertain, like he's feeling his way through this, and Frank. Frank doesn't know what Gerard's talking about.
“I mean, obviously I thought we were on the same page about this,” Gerard goes on, and he's not gesturing yet, but Frank can feel the tension in his body that means his hands are going to be flailing all over the place soon enough. “But I guess we aren't?”
There's an awkward little pause where Frank can practically see his cue to say something, but he can't. He wants to, he really does, he just can't find the fucking words.
“So I thought, hey, there's no way he can't know, right?” Gerard's still talking, and it's like with every new word to tumble from his mouth Frank hears the clock picking up speed, racing towards something Frank doesn't want to acknowledge, has been doing his best to ignore. “I mean, Frank's really fucking smart. Clearly not smart enough not to punch Bob, but still pretty smart.”
“Fuck you.” Frank says, but it's automatic, almost like a reflex.
“And I thought he'd understand that I'm like, I'm not moving to fucking Ireland or something after graduation.”
“I thought you were Scottish.” Frank says, and wow. Wow, that was all kinds of genius.
Gerard sighs like Frank's the stupid one, and for once Frank isn't arguing. “Frank. What the hell do you think is going to happen when I graduate?”
Shit.
“Frank?”
Okay, and so Frank maybe punched Bob for being stupid and thinking things like Ray doing better than Bob, which would be a resounding no. But Frank isn't immune to thoughts of his own along that vein, especially when it comes to his sort-of boyfriend and their sort-of relationship.
He's been in a few of those over the years, and there's no sort-of when it comes time to grow up and move on. When high school ends and college beckons, or whatever the fuck it does, and college isn't forever even though it feels like it most of the time.
“Why don't you tell me what you thought was going to happen?” Frank asks, and looks at Gerard, really looks at at him. “Because I thought I knew what was what, but apparently I'm just really fucking clueless about some shit.”
Gerard smiles, that tiny little uneven one that never fails to get to Frank. It's really fucking rare for one thing, and he only ever sees it when -
“Oh.”
Gerard rolls his eyes and smacks Frank on the side of his head. “Yeah, 'oh'. Christ, Frank. You call Bob on being a dumbshit, but can't even ask your fucking boyfriend what the hell is going on in your own relationship?”
Frank's staring, he knows he is, he just can't seem to stop doing it.
“What?” Gerard has his pissy face on, the one he gets when someone wakes him up before the crack of noon without a pot of coffee in hand. The face he makes whenever someone's being painfully stupid, or pushing his patience and holy shit, Frank really is an idiot.
“What if I want to see Ireland?” Frank really needs to get his head examined because even he doesn't understand half the crap that comes out of his mouth.
Gerard frowns, but he's thinking about it, and seriously. Seriously, Frank really kind of likes him. A lot. Maybe even loves him, which would probably be why he's been freaking out about Gerard graduating and moving away, moving on, like whatever the two of them were doing was just a phase. One of those things people do, something they had to get out of their system before joining the real world.
“Well, I guess that's cool,” Gerard says, still frowning. “But I'm pretty sure -”
Frank's a fast little shit, and before Gerard can even finish his sentence he has him pushed up against the side of Brian's mom's car, hands on his chest, and he's grinning like a madman, he can feel it. “I really don't want to see Ireland.”
“Okay?”
Frank nods and leans in, just a little because it's still fucking cold. “Okay.”
Gerard meets him halfway, and it's not magic, nothing like fireworks or whatever the fuck people always say kisses are supposed to be like, it's just. It's enough. More than.
====
====
They stop in a suburb of Vegas for an early lunch, some kind of all you can eat buffet where they can stuff their faces and not go broke doing it. It's their last real stop before they make the push through to California, and for once Frank's not worrying about anything.
Bob keeps shooting Ray these little looks, and even though the two of them haven't really talked Frank knows they're going to, and unless Bob fucks it up, it's going to be fine.
Their waitress, waiter, serving person, is this stick-thin kid who could go either way on the gender thing. The nametag pinned to her/his shirt says 'Ryan', but Frank's learned that names are misleading at times.
Ryan looks supremely disinterested in the world in general, but when Ray tells her/him that they're on a road trip headed for the big music festival down in California she/he perks up the tiniest bit.
Ryan freaks even Mikey out with her/his little speech about her/his town being, "full of sadness and pain. And the elderly."
Which, really. Fucking creepy.
“And on that note, I think we'll be leaving.” Brian says, and he sounds freaked out too, but is covering fairly well with one of his fake smiles. He has a hand wrapped around Mikey's arm, all but dragging him out the front doors with Frank and Gerard right behind them while while Ray and Bob cover their rear as they make a tactical retreat.
Frank can feel Ryan's eyes on them all the way out the door and into the parking lot.
====
====
“Okay, so here's the thing.”
Frank looks over at Ray, tearing his eyes away from where Gerard and the others are cheering their turtles on. They're at a gas station on the outskirts of Vegas, as far away from creepy Ryan and his buffet of gloom and doom as they could get without actually leaving the city.
“We have just enough money to make it to the festival, but not buy tickets. Or, you know, make it back to Jersey without selling our bodies or something.”
Frank raises an eyebrow, not sure what Ray's trying to get at, other than the fact that they're royally screwed. The whole point of the road trip was to have one last hurrah before Bob packed up and moved down to Florida. It would kind of suck to get to California only to end up as hookers.
“Or?”
Ray throws his hands up and tosses the road map through the open driver side window. “Or we turn around and head home right now.”
Frank shrugs and bumps shoulders with Ray, grinning when Ray smacks him on the side of the head. He still lets Frank lean against him as they watch Gerard, down on his hands and knees, face at turtle-level as he urges one of the little guys on towards the finish line.
“Or we could bet everything we have on Gerard's stupid turtle and see where that gets us?” He offers, and bites back a laugh when Ray heaves a put upon sigh.
“Yeah, or we could do that.” Ray says, but Frank can hear the smile perfectly fine.
“I vote for door number three, what about you?”
Ray sighs again, and when Frank looks at him he grins when he realizes Ray's watching Bob, and Bob's looking right back at Ray.
“Yeah. Yeah we can do that.”
Frank scratches his shoulder and tips his head back, soaking up the afternoon sunlight and feeling good, really fucking good for the first time in a long time. He's out on a road trip with his friends, and he might not know where they're going to end up when all is said and done, but for now things are fucking perfect.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Frank/Gerard, Bob/Ray
Genre: AU
Disclaimer: This is all completely made up, except for the part where these people actually exist.
Summary: See, the really messed up thing is that Ray, good old Ray, is their level-headed voice of reason, which is why everyone turns to stare when he nods and says, "I agree with Gerard. Come on you guys, road trip!"
Notes: A few months back I discovered Thule Trail which is a game based on the old Oregon Trail game. (It's an advertising gimmick, but it's free and fun to play.) This fic is the result of a game I played last night when I was waiting for the cold medicine to kick in. All mistakes are mine, of course. (Select screencaps from the game!)
ETA: You can download a ROM of the original Oregon Trail game and an emulator to run it on here.
5,771 words
The whole thing is Gerard's idea, which really? Should have been a giant warning sign right the fuck there.
"No, really you guys, it'll be awesome."
Frank thinks Gerard's delusional a lot (most) of the time, but they're sort-of dating and he's probably supposed to punch people who say things like that about his sort-of boyfriend. Thinks them. Whatever.
See, the really messed up thing is that Ray, good old Ray, is their level-headed voice of reason, which is why everyone turns to stare when he nods and says, "I agree with Gerard. Come on you guys, road trip!"
"I don't think it's a good idea."
Brian's not a voice of reason so much as the guy who ends up talking the cops down from charging them with felony crimes. He keeps them from having to worry about dropping the soap in the shower, something they're all grateful for even if they have a shitty way of showing it.
He always looks like he's thinking about strangling them in their sleep, but it's not like he doesn't have reason. He's known Gerard since they shared a dorm their freshman year, and even though Frank likes Gerard a lot he can't imagine the kind of hell that must have been for Brian.
Mikey's told them that Gerard's calmed down a lot, that he's leveled off or something since then, that the meds he's on now are helping and that Frank and the others have been good for Gerard. And, honestly, Frank really, really likes Gerard, but there are times even he wants to throttle him.
Privately Frank thinks Brian got exactly what he deserved for being one of those kids who got to skip grades to graduate high school early. If he wanted college badly enough to apply himself and study, he fucking well should have suffered.
"Okay, no. Seriously. Am I the only one who thinks this is a bad idea?"
Bob shrugs and sits back as if the entire conversation has nothing to do with him, and that's just total bullshit. Gerard's doing this for Bob. Bob who's leaving them to finish school down in Florida because the school down there has a better program.
It's not that Frank thinks the road trip is a bad idea, it's just. It's a bad idea.
Six guys crammed in a crappy little car for a cross-country road trip to a music festival is a recipe for a teen movie, or maybe a National Lampoon movie. Six guys, all crazy in their unique ways, crammed in a crappy little car on a cross-country road trip to a music festival is a recipe for a disaster movie. One of the ones that ends in tears and blood and fiery death.
"Road trip!" Gerard crows, bouncing a little in his chair.
Frank smirks when Ray does victory arms - like, physically does victory arms - and Brian tries to smother himself with one of the throw pillows.
Mikey chooses that moment to walk back into the room, phone still in hand, and looks around. "Road trip's on, huh?"
Gerard grins and Mikey's mouth twitches up into one of his almost-smiles.
====
====
The car, Frank refuses to look at it until he has to because it's a station wagon and that's just not cool no matter how reliable it is or how much leg room they'll have, is packed. The guys are in and out of the tiny little house they're renting, taking care of last minute things before they hit the road.
Frank's leaning against the old oak tree in the front yard enjoying the last real cup of coffee he's going to have for the next week while Gerard goes through his fifty page care instruction list for his hamsters with Matt.
Cortez, to his credit, is nodding and looking completely serious about the whole thing. They all know how Gerard is about his hamsters, and even though it's hilarious that he has leashes and tiny little harnesses that he uses to take them on walks around the neighborhood, they don't make fun of him for it.
They save the mockery for Mikey and the little antlers he makes out of pipe cleaners during the holiday season, even if they look cool. Mikey's good for that kind of thing.
Bob and Ray are sitting on the steps talking about something that has Ray laughing and gesturing emphatically with his hands, and Mikey's somewhere inside on the phone to Pete telling him about the Grand Adventure they're about to embark on. The last time Frank had seen Brian he was in the bathroom crying bitter tears or some shit.
"Hey, let's get this thing on the road already!" Frank yells, pushing off the tree trunk when Gerard looks like he's going to go through The List again, just in case Matt didn't get it the first two times. "Time's fucking wasting!"
Gerard looks up and smiles when their eyes meet, and seriously, Frank knows the whole thing is a bad idea, but for the life of him he can't remember why at the moment.
====
====
Five hours later Frank gets a reminder after the CD player breaks down and they're reduced to listening to a staticky radio station playing shitty disco.
Brian's knuckles are white where he's got his hands clamped on the steering wheel at ten and two, even though Frank thinks they changed it to nine and three a while back.
"Hey, didn't they - "
"No."
"No, no." Gerard's stupidly tenacious when he wants to be. "I'm pretty sure - Mikey? Didn't they change it to - "
"Gerard." Brian's the only person Frank knows in real life who can talk through clenched teeth. "Gerard, look. Flowers."
Frank looks out his window, and sure enough there's a patch of flowers on the side of the road. Like. A patch of flowers surrounded by overgrown grass, and they're miles from anywhere, which just makes it even more bizarre.
"Oh! Can we - "
Frank has to brace himself against the seat in front of him when Brian cranks the steering wheel hard to the right, brakes screeching as they come to a stop. Mikey slides across the seat into him, and yeah, even after all this time he's still a fucking bony bastard with his pointy elbows digging into Frank's internal organs.
"Uh. Thanks?" Gerard says, looking at Brian with wide eyes.
Brian turns his head and smiles, or at least Frank thinks it's supposed to be a smile, and pops the power locks.
Gerard climbs out of the passenger seat and stares at the flowers for a minute or two and then drops down, rolling onto his back and making a flower angel.
Bob and Ray finally look up from Ray's laptop where they've been working on something, some kind of project for one of their music classes they've been working on for forever even though they took the class last term.
"What is he doing?" Ray asks him, and Frank shrugs.
He just sort-of dates the guy, it's not like he knows what the hell goes on in his head.
"What the hell are you doing?" Bob yells, rolling his window down.
Gerard lifts his head and beams back at them, and Frank's stomach does that weird flippy thing it does whenever Gerard smiles like that. "Communing with nature, motherfuckers!"
Bob laughs and Ray shakes his head, Frank can see his hair moving at the corner of his eye. Mikey climbs over Frank and gets out of the car to join his brother and Frank is not surprised in the least when he follows a few seconds later.
====
====
Gerard insists that they pull over to check out every single scenic spot and historical marker they pass, and Brian quietly seethes as each stop puts them further behind their schedule.
Brian's actually pretty good about not freaking out at Gerard, or yelling at him unless he needs it. He does, however, have something of a mean streak sometimes, so Frank has a bad feeling when Gerard sticks a hand out the window to point out another brown and white sign.
“Fucking, ow. What the hell, Brian?”
“Oops. My bad.” Brian sounds less than sincere, but the look on his face keeps anyone, even Gerard, from commenting on it. “You know the buttons are so close to one another, and I hate looking away from the road when I'm driving.”
“Yeah, okay.” Gerard says, and tugs on his fingers, still trapped by the window. “Could you, um. Maybe unlock my window so I can get my hand out?”
Brian just smiles.
====
====
A few hours later they have to pull over because apparently Bob's tiny fucking bladder and a Big Gulp don't mesh well.
Gerard's bitching about Brian and his inhumane treatment of Gerard while Frank nods and pretends he isn't cracking up on the inside. Brian had left Gerard's hand stuck in the window for at least fifty miles, and Frank's probably the worst sort-of boyfriend ever for finding it funny as hell.
“Hey.” Gerard bumps his shoulder against Frank's and smiles. He looks tired, but it's the good kind of tired from spending the day on the road with friends. “This isn't a terrible idea, right? I mean, I know Brian's expecting us to all die before we reach the Midwest, but.”
Gerard shrugs, and looks towards the rest stop bathrooms where Ray's standing with Bob and Mikey, taking time to stretch their legs. Brian's staring the vending machine down like he's expecting it to spit his money back out instead of keeping it and all of its sinfully tantalizing treats.
“No.” Frank says, and he actually means it. This is pretty much the last chance the six of them are going to get to spend any sort of time like this together before they graduate and scatter to all corners of the world, and that thought makes something ache in Frank's chest. So. No. Not such a bad idea at all. “It's a good idea, Gerard. The best.”
Gerard laughs at that and Frank turns his head to see that fucking smile of his while he still can.
“Come on, we should stop Brian before he tries to take that stupid vending machine down.”
Frank sets off across the parking lot with Gerard at his side and tries not to think about what comes later, after.
Bob's the start of it, the first to go, but it won't be long after that before Gerard, Brian, and Ray graduate. Go off to start their lives in the real world, away from college and Mikey and Frank. Mikey, Frank knows, has been the only sure constant in Gerard's life from the day he was born, and always will be.
It's everything else in Gerard's life, and Frank's place in it in particular that he's not so sure about.
====
====
A few days later they're going a little crazy, the CD player's still broken and they're out of range of any radio stations, even the ones with craptastic music when they hit the tunnels.
Ray's got shotgun with Bob driving, and Brian's curled up in the back with everyone's jackets piled on him for warmth. Gerard's squeezed in with Mikey and Frank in the middle seats, and it's Frank's idea to play road trip games.
“Tunnel!”
Gerard and Mikey stare at him like he's an alien, which no. At least he knows the fucking road trip game rules, they didn't even know the things about bridges until Frank and Ray explained it to them.
“Okay, okay. It's really simple.” Frank says, shaking his head while Ray tries to disguise his laughter as the most unconvincing coughing fit in just about ever. “You just. God, I can't believe I have to explain this. You hold your breath.”
“Why?”
Frank stares at Mikey because the little shit's just messing with him now. Mikey knows there's no logic involved when it comes to road trip games. They're just something parents came up with to keep them from driving off a cliff when their kids keep asking if they're there yet.
“I don't - You just do, okay?”
Bob snorts and Frank glares at him in the rearview. “Shut it, Bryar. Remember to do your part when the time comes.”
Gerard and Mikey look even more confused, but Bob nods, still smirking, the fucker.
They've gone through several tunnels by that point, and Frank's a little anxious that there aren't any more when Ray twists around in his seat and looks back at them, eyes wide and says in an overly solemn voice, “It's time.”
Frank flips him off for that, but leans forward a little to see that they're coming up on another tunnel. When he looks over at Ray he sees him smiling, really smiling and not just making fun of Frank and the others.
“Okay, remember. All you do is hold your breath.” Frank says as he sits back.
Gerard and Mikey share this look like they still think he's the crazy one, and Frank rolls his eyes, but they're at the start at the tunnel before he can do more than take a breath and hold it. Bob meets his eyes in the rearview and lays on the horn the moment they enter the tunnel, Ray's laughter filling the car.
The only thing wrong is that it's the longest fucking tunnel in the entire world and Frank hears Gerard panting for breath before they're even a third of the way through. It's not unexpected with the way he inhales his cigarettes. Frank gives up just after the halfway point, but fucking Mikey.
Jesus, stupid fucking Mikey holds on until he just slumps against Frank right as they break out of the tunnel into daylight on a downward stretch of road.
“Oh, shit.” Gerard's voice in his ear, soft and worried, borderline panic. “Frank. Frank I think we killed Mikey.”
Frank opens his mouth to say something, but Mikey's still laying all over him and not really moving.
“Oh, shit.” He looks up to see Gerard frowning and only Mikey, only stupid fucking Mikey would kill himself playing a stupid road trip game. “How mad are your parents going to be?”
Ray turns around to look at them, and Frank can feel someone breathing down his neck. He doesn't need to look to know it's Brian.
“I will kill all of you assholes if there's a dead body in my mom's car.”
Mikey twitches and Frank looks down at him, trying not to show how worried he really was that they'd killed him.
“I'm not dead, you fuckers.” Mikey slurs out, but he's blinking a lot and doesn't look all that good.
Bob sighs, and Ray's still looking at them, so it's a good thing there's a rest stop ahead because Frank thinks they could all use a break, and he might actually live if he has enough of a running start before Brian catches up.
====
====
They've been sleeping in the car or camping out on rest stop picnic tables to save money, but the night they almost kill Mikey they pool their money and get a motel room.
Mikey keeps protesting, saying he's fine but Gerard, Ray, and Brian overrule him. Bob just stands by waiting for the word to sling Mikey over his shoulder and carry him into the dingy motel room if they need him to. Frank stands behind him trying not to fidget or draw attention to himself.
He feels bad about almost killing Mikey, even though the others don't seem to think he's to blame.
“You didn't really explain how to play the game.” Brian points out as he slides up next to Frank leaning against the motel's wall, which would be freakier if Frank didn't already know about Brian's ability to read minds.
Frank's still thinking about the way Gerard had led Mikey around the rest stop when they'd pulled over after the tunnel. He'd been shaky like a newborn colt, and only the fact that Mikey had been quietly bitching the whole time had kept Frank from wanting to punch something. Himself, for starters.
“I didn't - “
“No.” Brian agrees, shoving his hands in his pockets. “We know that, but it's Mikey. He's not an idiot, he just. He doesn't always think the way we do.”
And, really, that's the Way brothers in a nutshell.
“It's just a game!” Frank's seriously not going to freak out about this, he's not. “It's a stupid fucking game and he - “
“It's Mikey.” Brian says, and shrugs, because there's really not much else to be said about it. “Now knock this shit off and come inside. There's some kind of horror movie marathon on and Gerard's flipping his shit over it.”
Frank tries out a smile, and if it's a little uneven Brian doesn't mention it.
====
====
Gerard, Mikey, and Ray drag Brian off to see something - “It had better not be a giant fucking ball of twine!” - a couple of states over while Bob and Frank get the car gassed up and clean bug guts off the windshield.
The whole thing's nasty and after ten minutes trying scrape off what Frank thinks used to be a grasshopper and Bob says was a dragonfly they cough up the five dollars for the automated car wash.
It's mid-afternoon and they're almost at the halfway point of the trip, and everyone's feeling tired and cranky. Bob hasn't really been talking for a couple of days now, even to Ray, and that's how Frank knows something's going on.
“What the hell's going on with you guys?” Frank asks, sucking on a piece of ice from his Big Gulp while Bob drops a quarter into the coin slot for the vacuum. “You're, like, ignoring Ray.”
Bob's shoulders practically snap back, and Frank edges away from him when Bob turns around.
Bob's not a bully or even really an aggressive sort of guy, he's just. Bob's a big guy and Frank's not. Frank has little guy instincts, and there are times even Bob pings them, usually without meaning to.
Frank's not so sure that's the case this time.
“It's none of your business, Iero.”
And, see, no. Hell no, even.
“Fuck that, Bryar.” Frank sneers right back, and now all of his little guy instincts are nowhere to be found because he's pushing forward, poking Bob in the chest and he's pissed. Ready to throw down with Bob motherfucking Bryar in the middle of a gas station parking lot pissed. “You don't. Have you even seen Ray lately? No one, not even you gets to do that to him, okay? You just. You don't.”
Ray's fucking golden. He's the one that's kept them together this long, that's kept them from snapping and killing one another, and he's the one who gives enough of a shit to care when everyone else is caught up in their own dramas.
“Frank - “
“No.” Frank's not going to listen to Bob's excuses because he's going to fix it, fix whatever he said or did to make Ray shut down. “Fix it, okay? Just fucking fix it, or there will be nowhere you can hide from me.”
The thing is, Frank's serious. He loves Bob because Bob puts up with his shit when the others won't. He lets Frank climb all over him and gives him piggyback rides, but Frank won't hesitate to kick his ass if he has to. Bob knows that, they all know that.
“It's not that simple, Frank.”
Frank snorts and crosses his arms because really? It is. Everyone but Bob has known about Ray's stupid thing for stupid Bob for a while now, but apparently Bob's stupider than anyone expected. They all thought that since Bob and Ray are the - relatively speaking - smart ones out of their group that they'd work it out before things turned into a fucking drama.
“Okay, look. Do you like Ray? Yes or no?” Frank holds out a hand before Bob can give him the easy answer because everyone likes Ray. Everyone with a soul, at least. “No, I'm serious, Bob. Do you like him?”
Frank's kind of disgusted with Bob for making Frank feel like he's back in junior high again. He half expects Bob to give him a note to pass to Ray after lunch. The look on Bob's face is saying the same thing is running through his head, but he nods. The tiniest possible sort of nod Frank's ever seen, but it's there.
“Okay then. Fucking great. Tell him.”
Bob stares at Frank a little helplessly, which is not something Frank ever thought he'd see coming from Bob.
“Bob. You really can't be this dumb.”
But, oh, he is. Frank can see it written all over stupid Bob's stupid face.
“Christ. Bob, I'm giving you until tomorrow night. Either you tell him, or I do. And trust me when I say this, but you really don't want that.”
Bob glares at him, but Frank's not backing down.
“Florida.”
Frank blinks and cocks his head to the side. “What?”
“I'm going to school in Florida next fall, Frank. That's really fucking far away.”
And, yes, thank you. It is. Frank's taken a geography class or two in his time. “I'm not seeing what the problem is here.” Except for how he does, he's just waiting for Bob to point it out so Frank can poke huge fucking holes in whatever flawed excuse Bob's going to trot out in defense of his cowardice.
Bob sighs like this whole conversation is taking more out of him than it seems, and really, Frank knows it is. It's sucking the life out of him and it isn't even really his heart on the line at the moment, so that maybe explains why he just wants to curl up under a blanket and never come out even more.
“Long distance relationships - “
“That's bullshit, and you know it.” Frank knows where Bob's going, can recite all the excuses with him, but the truth is if Bob means it, if he cares half as much as Ray obviously does, they could make it work. They'd probably be the only two people Frank's ever known who could. “We're talking about Ray, here. Do you really think he'd pull something like that with you?”
“We're kids, Frank. Fucking kids, what the hell do we know about shit? What if he wakes up one day and realizes he could do - “
And, see, it's not like Frank goes around punching his friends all the time, or even some of the time, but there are times when they just really, really deserve it.
Frank shakes out his hand because Bob's jaw is made of stone while Bob just staggers back a few steps. He's staring at Frank like he can't believe Frank hit him, and if he doesn't get his head straightened out Frank's not going to stop with that first blow.
“Don't finish that sentence. Ever.”
Bob doesn't say anything, just wipes the blood off his face, and Christ, but Frank feels tired.
He sighs and walks over to where his Big Gulp is spread out over the ground and picks it up, tipping the cup over to pour some ice into his hand. Bob's watching him, a little warily like he thinks Frank's going to go after him again.
“Get over here. We need to put some ice on that.”
Bob doesn't move, and Frank snorts, tries not to but finds himself laughing like a fucking lunatic, arms curled around his ribs because his friends are so goddamned stupid sometimes it hurts.
He looks up when he hears footsteps and sees Bob looking down at him, a confused frown on his face and Frank smiles, perfectly aware that it doesn't fit quite right on his face.
It's not his heart on the line this time, but it will be soon enough and if nothing else he wants this to go right for Bob and Ray. He wants them to have one another if they can, for however long they can make it work. He thinks they could make forever just fine, it's getting them started that's the problem.
“It'll be okay, Bob. Just. Give it a chance, all right? It's Ray, he's worth it, isn't he?”
Bob sighs and takes the half-melted ice from Frank, wrapping it in that stupid handkerchief he's been carrying around on the whole road trip like some sort of talisman.
“You hit like a girl, Iero.” He says, and grabs Frank's hand, turning it over to settle the ice across his knuckles.
It's not an answer, not really, but Frank knows he got his message across. Bob's not that stupid.
====
====
“So. Vegas tomorrow, huh?”
They're staying at the house of someone Mikey knows through Pete who knows someone who knows someone, Frank's not clear on the details. All he cares about is that they're not crammed into the car for the night or freezing their asses off trying to rough it in some rest stop or camp ground.
Gerard's all tired, sleepy eyes and chaotic hair and Frank feels his heart do that thing it does whenever he looks at Gerard now. Like there's a clock ticking away the time, a little voice in the back of his head telling him his time's running out, that he only has so much longer.
“Yeah.” Frank coughs to clear his throat and looks away for a moment. He's not sure if that makes it easier or if he just thinks it does, but it helps. “But hey, whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?”
Gerard laughs when Frank looks back at him and waggles his eyebrows, and yeah.
They look over when a dog somewhere down the street starts barking and something knocks a trashcan over with a clatter. “With our luck it's an escaped convict or something.”
And Frank has a hard time not smiling because Gerard's always been good for the worst possible scenario like that.
“And to think your idea for a children's book was rejected.” Frank mutters, as he moves a little closer to him, just for warmth. It's fucking cold. “Shocked. I'm shocked I tell you.”
Gerard bitches and kicks Frank's ankle before settling against the car next to Frank. “Mikey tells me I'm being dumb.” Gerard ventures after a few minutes. He sounds uncertain, like he's feeling his way through this, and Frank. Frank doesn't know what Gerard's talking about.
“I mean, obviously I thought we were on the same page about this,” Gerard goes on, and he's not gesturing yet, but Frank can feel the tension in his body that means his hands are going to be flailing all over the place soon enough. “But I guess we aren't?”
There's an awkward little pause where Frank can practically see his cue to say something, but he can't. He wants to, he really does, he just can't find the fucking words.
“So I thought, hey, there's no way he can't know, right?” Gerard's still talking, and it's like with every new word to tumble from his mouth Frank hears the clock picking up speed, racing towards something Frank doesn't want to acknowledge, has been doing his best to ignore. “I mean, Frank's really fucking smart. Clearly not smart enough not to punch Bob, but still pretty smart.”
“Fuck you.” Frank says, but it's automatic, almost like a reflex.
“And I thought he'd understand that I'm like, I'm not moving to fucking Ireland or something after graduation.”
“I thought you were Scottish.” Frank says, and wow. Wow, that was all kinds of genius.
Gerard sighs like Frank's the stupid one, and for once Frank isn't arguing. “Frank. What the hell do you think is going to happen when I graduate?”
Shit.
“Frank?”
Okay, and so Frank maybe punched Bob for being stupid and thinking things like Ray doing better than Bob, which would be a resounding no. But Frank isn't immune to thoughts of his own along that vein, especially when it comes to his sort-of boyfriend and their sort-of relationship.
He's been in a few of those over the years, and there's no sort-of when it comes time to grow up and move on. When high school ends and college beckons, or whatever the fuck it does, and college isn't forever even though it feels like it most of the time.
“Why don't you tell me what you thought was going to happen?” Frank asks, and looks at Gerard, really looks at at him. “Because I thought I knew what was what, but apparently I'm just really fucking clueless about some shit.”
Gerard smiles, that tiny little uneven one that never fails to get to Frank. It's really fucking rare for one thing, and he only ever sees it when -
“Oh.”
Gerard rolls his eyes and smacks Frank on the side of his head. “Yeah, 'oh'. Christ, Frank. You call Bob on being a dumbshit, but can't even ask your fucking boyfriend what the hell is going on in your own relationship?”
Frank's staring, he knows he is, he just can't seem to stop doing it.
“What?” Gerard has his pissy face on, the one he gets when someone wakes him up before the crack of noon without a pot of coffee in hand. The face he makes whenever someone's being painfully stupid, or pushing his patience and holy shit, Frank really is an idiot.
“What if I want to see Ireland?” Frank really needs to get his head examined because even he doesn't understand half the crap that comes out of his mouth.
Gerard frowns, but he's thinking about it, and seriously. Seriously, Frank really kind of likes him. A lot. Maybe even loves him, which would probably be why he's been freaking out about Gerard graduating and moving away, moving on, like whatever the two of them were doing was just a phase. One of those things people do, something they had to get out of their system before joining the real world.
“Well, I guess that's cool,” Gerard says, still frowning. “But I'm pretty sure -”
Frank's a fast little shit, and before Gerard can even finish his sentence he has him pushed up against the side of Brian's mom's car, hands on his chest, and he's grinning like a madman, he can feel it. “I really don't want to see Ireland.”
“Okay?”
Frank nods and leans in, just a little because it's still fucking cold. “Okay.”
Gerard meets him halfway, and it's not magic, nothing like fireworks or whatever the fuck people always say kisses are supposed to be like, it's just. It's enough. More than.
====
====
They stop in a suburb of Vegas for an early lunch, some kind of all you can eat buffet where they can stuff their faces and not go broke doing it. It's their last real stop before they make the push through to California, and for once Frank's not worrying about anything.
Bob keeps shooting Ray these little looks, and even though the two of them haven't really talked Frank knows they're going to, and unless Bob fucks it up, it's going to be fine.
Their waitress, waiter, serving person, is this stick-thin kid who could go either way on the gender thing. The nametag pinned to her/his shirt says 'Ryan', but Frank's learned that names are misleading at times.
Ryan looks supremely disinterested in the world in general, but when Ray tells her/him that they're on a road trip headed for the big music festival down in California she/he perks up the tiniest bit.
Ryan freaks even Mikey out with her/his little speech about her/his town being, "full of sadness and pain. And the elderly."
Which, really. Fucking creepy.
“And on that note, I think we'll be leaving.” Brian says, and he sounds freaked out too, but is covering fairly well with one of his fake smiles. He has a hand wrapped around Mikey's arm, all but dragging him out the front doors with Frank and Gerard right behind them while while Ray and Bob cover their rear as they make a tactical retreat.
Frank can feel Ryan's eyes on them all the way out the door and into the parking lot.
====
====
“Okay, so here's the thing.”
Frank looks over at Ray, tearing his eyes away from where Gerard and the others are cheering their turtles on. They're at a gas station on the outskirts of Vegas, as far away from creepy Ryan and his buffet of gloom and doom as they could get without actually leaving the city.
“We have just enough money to make it to the festival, but not buy tickets. Or, you know, make it back to Jersey without selling our bodies or something.”
Frank raises an eyebrow, not sure what Ray's trying to get at, other than the fact that they're royally screwed. The whole point of the road trip was to have one last hurrah before Bob packed up and moved down to Florida. It would kind of suck to get to California only to end up as hookers.
“Or?”
Ray throws his hands up and tosses the road map through the open driver side window. “Or we turn around and head home right now.”
Frank shrugs and bumps shoulders with Ray, grinning when Ray smacks him on the side of the head. He still lets Frank lean against him as they watch Gerard, down on his hands and knees, face at turtle-level as he urges one of the little guys on towards the finish line.
“Or we could bet everything we have on Gerard's stupid turtle and see where that gets us?” He offers, and bites back a laugh when Ray heaves a put upon sigh.
“Yeah, or we could do that.” Ray says, but Frank can hear the smile perfectly fine.
“I vote for door number three, what about you?”
Ray sighs again, and when Frank looks at him he grins when he realizes Ray's watching Bob, and Bob's looking right back at Ray.
“Yeah. Yeah we can do that.”
Frank scratches his shoulder and tips his head back, soaking up the afternoon sunlight and feeling good, really fucking good for the first time in a long time. He's out on a road trip with his friends, and he might not know where they're going to end up when all is said and done, but for now things are fucking perfect.