Three's Not Company [frerard, pg, standalone]
Title: Three's Not Company
Author: silver_etoile
Rating: PG
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
POV: Third
Disclaimer: never happened.
Summary: Frank has never had a fight that didn't end up in a break-up. He's hoping this one is different.
A/N: Written for the schmoop_bingo prompt of "first fight - making up." See my card for master posting.
*
Frank doesn’t understand why Gerard is so mad at him. If anything, it should be Frank who is pissed. Gerard is the one with the creepy ex-boyfriend who still thinks it’s okay to come feel him up whenever he pleases, wherever he pleases, and Frank doesn’t care if Gerard insists that they’re just friends. Coming over to Gerard’s to find Bert plastered over Gerard and obviously not watching the movie is not something that keeps Frank calm.
He can still hear the door slamming behind him as he’d whirled out of it, angry enough that he couldn’t even keep his facts straight, and seeing Gerard’s stubborn frown as he’d left.
He’s storming around the little park near his house because he doesn’t want to go back just yet. It’s the first place Gerard will look if he decides to come apologize because Frank is definitely not going to be the one to do it. He was totally justified in his anger. Bert is a creepy guy who never showers, he means, worse than Gerard who just forgets to. Bert just doesn’t.
Instead, Frank follows the long dirt path around the park, hardly bothering to acknowledge the dark heavy clouds gathering overhead. They’ve been lingering all day but it has yet to rain. He just digs his shoes into the dirt and doesn’t care how dirty they’ll get.
It’s their first fight, aside from stupid arguments over which superhero is best (and everyone knows it’s Batman), and Frank isn’t sure how it’s supposed to go. He’s never actually been in a relationship this long and definitely not long enough to have a fight that didn’t end in breaking up.
He wishes Gerard understood how much Bert bothers him. It’s not just that he’s the ex-boyfriend or that he hangs out with (and on top of) Gerard all the time, but something else that makes Frank nervous whenever he’s around. He definitely doesn’t like walking in and finding them laughing on the couch, Bert’s hand in a very suspicious place.
Frank doesn’t count himself as a typically jealous person, but maybe that was before Bert licked Gerard’s neck and called him a nickname that made Gerard blush.
Chewing his bottom lip, Frank grumbles to himself and kicks a rock off the path. It rolls away into the bushes and he keeps stalking around the park.
He and Gerard have only been dating about four months, but it’s long enough that Frank knows there’s something more than just sex in this one. He likes Gerard and the way he’s always up at three am, painting or drawing or just rambling about comic books that no one has heard of. He likes how his hair flops in his eyes, how he never seems to get enough sun, how he loves to go to shows but never does anything but hang back in a far corner, watching the band and the crowd.
As Frank rounds the corner of the park again, the one closest to his house, he sighs. He can’t stay out there forever and it’s starting to rain, cold drops hitting his tee shirt as he glances up.
It’s been hours since he left Gerard’s, and he forgot his phone at home earlier, so even if Gerard has called, he wouldn’t have known.
It starts raining harder when he finally decides to head home. He’ll just hole up in his room with Zombie movies and hope things are better in the morning. He will have to talk to Gerard at some point, he just doesn’t know what he’s going to say yet.
He walks the few blocks to his house, well, mom’s house but Frank finds it incredibly depressing to admit that he still lives at home at age twenty. He should be living in some crappy student housing or even in a dorm with a roommate who doesn’t sleep, but living at home is about a million times cheaper.
His shirt is soaked by the time he gets home and lets himself in the front door. He shoes squish a little and he kicks them off in the entrance way, over by the opened hall closet.
As he heads for the stairs, his mother’s voice calls down.
“Frankie?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” Frank replies dully, placing a hand on the banister and sighing.
“You have a visitor in the living room!” she calls back and Frank frowns slightly, glancing curiously around the wall that divides the entrance hall and the living room.
Sitting on the faded gold couch is Gerard, knees pressed together, hands tight against his jeans, and Gerard looks up quickly when Frank sticks his head in.
Frank is surprised to say the least, shocked, uncertain what to do.
“Gee?” he says finally, and Gerard rubs at his jeans for a second before standing up.
“Hey,” he says, stuffing his hands in his pockets instead. He doesn’t meet Frank’s eyes. “Your mom said I could wait.”
“Uh, yeah,” Frank says, confused. Everything feels awkward, like their first date all over again, except this time Frank knows why Gerard is rocking back and forth on his heels and chewing his lower lip nervously.
“So did we break up?” Gerard asks finally when the silence stretches and Frank blinks, caught off-guard.
“No,” he says quickly. He didn’t think so anyway. Did they?
“You were pretty mad,” Gerard mutters, rocking back again and not meeting Frank’s eyes.
“Well, yeah,” Frank says like it should be obvious because it is to him. He doesn’t think Gerard would be very happy if his ex-boyfriend just showed up and was all over him. Then again, Gerard might not even notice given how much time he spends in reality. “Bert pisses me off.”
Gerard frowns slowly. “But why?”
Frank stares disbelievingly. “Because he’s fucking all over you all the time! He acts like he’s still your boyfriend and you broke up forever ago. I’m your boyfriend, not him!”
Gerard is quiet for a moment, looking like he’s trying to figure it out. Frank can feel himself getting angry again, annoyed at how long it takes Gerard to catch on. He just doesn’t like being around Bert and feeling like the third wheel where he shouldn’t be.
“Are you jealous of Bert?” Gerard asks finally.
“No!” Frank cries, frustrated, but he shakes his head, and Gerard looks confused.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Gerard says. “Bert’s really my ex and we’re just friends.”
“It doesn’t feel like it sometimes,” Frank says, hating how much of a girl he sounds at that moment. “It feels like I’m your fucking dog and Bert is the boyfriend.”
“What do you want me to do?” Gerard asks plainly, and Frank doesn’t really have an answer.
“I don’t know,” he admits tiredly. “I don’t fucking know.”
Gerard shifts awkwardly, and Frank sighs. He’s never really been through a make-up without having a break-up.
Gerard looks lost as he pushes at the floor with his shoes, hair hanging in front of his face. Rubbing his toe into the carpet, he looks around the room helplessly, but there’s nothing in it to help him aside from the old, yellow shag carpeting and wood-paneled walls. Frank is pretty sure the house hasn’t been remodeled since it was built in nineteen seventy-four.
“Gee,” Frank says finally with a loud sigh, unable to believe what he’s about to say. He hates to even really think it because he’s never considered the option before. Gerard slumps down on the couch with a helpless look. Frank joins him after a minute, staring hard at his muddy shoes. “Maybe I am jealous.”
Gerard glances over slowly and Frank stares down at his hands. He’s never admitted to being jealous before, and it feels strange. He doesn’t know what to do, though. He doesn’t like Bert, doesn’t like him hanging around, doesn’t like him and Gerard together.
He sighs, loudly and heavily, casting a glance at the stairs and hoping that his mother is completely upstairs and out of hearing range. It’s embarrassing enough without her hearing and then pestering him about it later. He’s sure she’ll already want to know why Gerard showed up without him.
He glances at Gerard, who has gone back to inspecting his paint-stained fingers.
“I just don’t like feeling like the third wheel when I’m the one who’s supposed to be all over you, not Bert."
“Bert’s-”
“Just a friend, I know,” Frank finishes for him, trying hard not to roll his eyes. He doubts it would help anything. “But it doesn’t feel like it most of the time.”
“I… I’m sorry,” Gerard mutters. “I don’t mean to.”
“I know,” Frank allows. He feels like an idiot with nothing to say, no solution to offer. He just knows he doesn’t want to fight anymore because it takes far too much energy that he’d rather be spending in a mosh.
“So what do we do?”
Frank sighs. “I don’t know. You’re older. Shouldn’t you know?”
Gerard actually laughs at that. “You think I know anything about this shit? I don’t even know how my internet works.”
“We’re totally fucked,” Frank says, hanging his head, and Gerard doesn’t reply.
The silence seems to fall quickly and heavily, and Frank can hear the TV from upstairs. Frowning, he tries to think of what to say.
“Um.” Gerard speaks first. “I brought something.” He shifts again, pulling out his old battered sketchbook and flipping to a back page. He tears out the last page and hands it to Frank.
Confused, Frank takes the page and his eyes scrape over the comic drawn there.
It’s a five panel cartoon of someone who is obviously Frank saving the world from a many-legged squid. There’s a small version of Gerard in the last panel, Frank flying him away from the ruined city, and Frank can’t stop staring at it.
“It’s you,” Gerard mutters finally, and Frank blinks.
“I’m saving the world?”
Gerard shrugs. “Yeah.” He pauses awkwardly, pushing at his hair, and the TV upstairs swells in volume for a moment. “I’ll talk to Bert,” he says finally. “You’re right, Frank. It’s just that he’s been around forever and it’s weird when he’s not. But you’re right. He’s not my boyfriend anymore, and I’m glad that you are. And I’m sorry for not getting it. I’m just dumb sometimes.”
Frank sighs, setting down the paper. “You’re not dumb. Well, maybe we both are. I was dumb too.”
Gerard glances at him carefully. “So we’re both dumb.”
“Pretty much,” Frank agrees, but he quirks a small smile. “Maybe we can make it up, though.”
Gerard reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small white package. “I brought cigarettes?” he offers.
“It’s a start,” Frank allows with a small smile, and Gerard’s face brightens significantly as Frank slips the package from his fingers. Upstairs, he hears his mom yelling something down about if Gerard is staying a while, they should lock the door. He pauses with a concerned frown upwards. “Let’s go back to your place and make up the rest there, okay?”
Gerard smiles, small and secret. “Okay.” And they leave the house into the pouring rain. Frank just grabs Gerard’s hand and pulls him in the direction of Gerard’s apartment. Everything will be okay.
*
FIN.
Author: silver_etoile
Rating: PG
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
POV: Third
Disclaimer: never happened.
Summary: Frank has never had a fight that didn't end up in a break-up. He's hoping this one is different.
A/N: Written for the schmoop_bingo prompt of "first fight - making up." See my card for master posting.
*
Frank doesn’t understand why Gerard is so mad at him. If anything, it should be Frank who is pissed. Gerard is the one with the creepy ex-boyfriend who still thinks it’s okay to come feel him up whenever he pleases, wherever he pleases, and Frank doesn’t care if Gerard insists that they’re just friends. Coming over to Gerard’s to find Bert plastered over Gerard and obviously not watching the movie is not something that keeps Frank calm.
He can still hear the door slamming behind him as he’d whirled out of it, angry enough that he couldn’t even keep his facts straight, and seeing Gerard’s stubborn frown as he’d left.
He’s storming around the little park near his house because he doesn’t want to go back just yet. It’s the first place Gerard will look if he decides to come apologize because Frank is definitely not going to be the one to do it. He was totally justified in his anger. Bert is a creepy guy who never showers, he means, worse than Gerard who just forgets to. Bert just doesn’t.
Instead, Frank follows the long dirt path around the park, hardly bothering to acknowledge the dark heavy clouds gathering overhead. They’ve been lingering all day but it has yet to rain. He just digs his shoes into the dirt and doesn’t care how dirty they’ll get.
It’s their first fight, aside from stupid arguments over which superhero is best (and everyone knows it’s Batman), and Frank isn’t sure how it’s supposed to go. He’s never actually been in a relationship this long and definitely not long enough to have a fight that didn’t end in breaking up.
He wishes Gerard understood how much Bert bothers him. It’s not just that he’s the ex-boyfriend or that he hangs out with (and on top of) Gerard all the time, but something else that makes Frank nervous whenever he’s around. He definitely doesn’t like walking in and finding them laughing on the couch, Bert’s hand in a very suspicious place.
Frank doesn’t count himself as a typically jealous person, but maybe that was before Bert licked Gerard’s neck and called him a nickname that made Gerard blush.
Chewing his bottom lip, Frank grumbles to himself and kicks a rock off the path. It rolls away into the bushes and he keeps stalking around the park.
He and Gerard have only been dating about four months, but it’s long enough that Frank knows there’s something more than just sex in this one. He likes Gerard and the way he’s always up at three am, painting or drawing or just rambling about comic books that no one has heard of. He likes how his hair flops in his eyes, how he never seems to get enough sun, how he loves to go to shows but never does anything but hang back in a far corner, watching the band and the crowd.
As Frank rounds the corner of the park again, the one closest to his house, he sighs. He can’t stay out there forever and it’s starting to rain, cold drops hitting his tee shirt as he glances up.
It’s been hours since he left Gerard’s, and he forgot his phone at home earlier, so even if Gerard has called, he wouldn’t have known.
It starts raining harder when he finally decides to head home. He’ll just hole up in his room with Zombie movies and hope things are better in the morning. He will have to talk to Gerard at some point, he just doesn’t know what he’s going to say yet.
He walks the few blocks to his house, well, mom’s house but Frank finds it incredibly depressing to admit that he still lives at home at age twenty. He should be living in some crappy student housing or even in a dorm with a roommate who doesn’t sleep, but living at home is about a million times cheaper.
His shirt is soaked by the time he gets home and lets himself in the front door. He shoes squish a little and he kicks them off in the entrance way, over by the opened hall closet.
As he heads for the stairs, his mother’s voice calls down.
“Frankie?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” Frank replies dully, placing a hand on the banister and sighing.
“You have a visitor in the living room!” she calls back and Frank frowns slightly, glancing curiously around the wall that divides the entrance hall and the living room.
Sitting on the faded gold couch is Gerard, knees pressed together, hands tight against his jeans, and Gerard looks up quickly when Frank sticks his head in.
Frank is surprised to say the least, shocked, uncertain what to do.
“Gee?” he says finally, and Gerard rubs at his jeans for a second before standing up.
“Hey,” he says, stuffing his hands in his pockets instead. He doesn’t meet Frank’s eyes. “Your mom said I could wait.”
“Uh, yeah,” Frank says, confused. Everything feels awkward, like their first date all over again, except this time Frank knows why Gerard is rocking back and forth on his heels and chewing his lower lip nervously.
“So did we break up?” Gerard asks finally when the silence stretches and Frank blinks, caught off-guard.
“No,” he says quickly. He didn’t think so anyway. Did they?
“You were pretty mad,” Gerard mutters, rocking back again and not meeting Frank’s eyes.
“Well, yeah,” Frank says like it should be obvious because it is to him. He doesn’t think Gerard would be very happy if his ex-boyfriend just showed up and was all over him. Then again, Gerard might not even notice given how much time he spends in reality. “Bert pisses me off.”
Gerard frowns slowly. “But why?”
Frank stares disbelievingly. “Because he’s fucking all over you all the time! He acts like he’s still your boyfriend and you broke up forever ago. I’m your boyfriend, not him!”
Gerard is quiet for a moment, looking like he’s trying to figure it out. Frank can feel himself getting angry again, annoyed at how long it takes Gerard to catch on. He just doesn’t like being around Bert and feeling like the third wheel where he shouldn’t be.
“Are you jealous of Bert?” Gerard asks finally.
“No!” Frank cries, frustrated, but he shakes his head, and Gerard looks confused.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Gerard says. “Bert’s really my ex and we’re just friends.”
“It doesn’t feel like it sometimes,” Frank says, hating how much of a girl he sounds at that moment. “It feels like I’m your fucking dog and Bert is the boyfriend.”
“What do you want me to do?” Gerard asks plainly, and Frank doesn’t really have an answer.
“I don’t know,” he admits tiredly. “I don’t fucking know.”
Gerard shifts awkwardly, and Frank sighs. He’s never really been through a make-up without having a break-up.
Gerard looks lost as he pushes at the floor with his shoes, hair hanging in front of his face. Rubbing his toe into the carpet, he looks around the room helplessly, but there’s nothing in it to help him aside from the old, yellow shag carpeting and wood-paneled walls. Frank is pretty sure the house hasn’t been remodeled since it was built in nineteen seventy-four.
“Gee,” Frank says finally with a loud sigh, unable to believe what he’s about to say. He hates to even really think it because he’s never considered the option before. Gerard slumps down on the couch with a helpless look. Frank joins him after a minute, staring hard at his muddy shoes. “Maybe I am jealous.”
Gerard glances over slowly and Frank stares down at his hands. He’s never admitted to being jealous before, and it feels strange. He doesn’t know what to do, though. He doesn’t like Bert, doesn’t like him hanging around, doesn’t like him and Gerard together.
He sighs, loudly and heavily, casting a glance at the stairs and hoping that his mother is completely upstairs and out of hearing range. It’s embarrassing enough without her hearing and then pestering him about it later. He’s sure she’ll already want to know why Gerard showed up without him.
He glances at Gerard, who has gone back to inspecting his paint-stained fingers.
“I just don’t like feeling like the third wheel when I’m the one who’s supposed to be all over you, not Bert."
“Bert’s-”
“Just a friend, I know,” Frank finishes for him, trying hard not to roll his eyes. He doubts it would help anything. “But it doesn’t feel like it most of the time.”
“I… I’m sorry,” Gerard mutters. “I don’t mean to.”
“I know,” Frank allows. He feels like an idiot with nothing to say, no solution to offer. He just knows he doesn’t want to fight anymore because it takes far too much energy that he’d rather be spending in a mosh.
“So what do we do?”
Frank sighs. “I don’t know. You’re older. Shouldn’t you know?”
Gerard actually laughs at that. “You think I know anything about this shit? I don’t even know how my internet works.”
“We’re totally fucked,” Frank says, hanging his head, and Gerard doesn’t reply.
The silence seems to fall quickly and heavily, and Frank can hear the TV from upstairs. Frowning, he tries to think of what to say.
“Um.” Gerard speaks first. “I brought something.” He shifts again, pulling out his old battered sketchbook and flipping to a back page. He tears out the last page and hands it to Frank.
Confused, Frank takes the page and his eyes scrape over the comic drawn there.
It’s a five panel cartoon of someone who is obviously Frank saving the world from a many-legged squid. There’s a small version of Gerard in the last panel, Frank flying him away from the ruined city, and Frank can’t stop staring at it.
“It’s you,” Gerard mutters finally, and Frank blinks.
“I’m saving the world?”
Gerard shrugs. “Yeah.” He pauses awkwardly, pushing at his hair, and the TV upstairs swells in volume for a moment. “I’ll talk to Bert,” he says finally. “You’re right, Frank. It’s just that he’s been around forever and it’s weird when he’s not. But you’re right. He’s not my boyfriend anymore, and I’m glad that you are. And I’m sorry for not getting it. I’m just dumb sometimes.”
Frank sighs, setting down the paper. “You’re not dumb. Well, maybe we both are. I was dumb too.”
Gerard glances at him carefully. “So we’re both dumb.”
“Pretty much,” Frank agrees, but he quirks a small smile. “Maybe we can make it up, though.”
Gerard reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small white package. “I brought cigarettes?” he offers.
“It’s a start,” Frank allows with a small smile, and Gerard’s face brightens significantly as Frank slips the package from his fingers. Upstairs, he hears his mom yelling something down about if Gerard is staying a while, they should lock the door. He pauses with a concerned frown upwards. “Let’s go back to your place and make up the rest there, okay?”
Gerard smiles, small and secret. “Okay.” And they leave the house into the pouring rain. Frank just grabs Gerard’s hand and pulls him in the direction of Gerard’s apartment. Everything will be okay.
*
FIN.