Fic: Love and Other Cliches: bandombigbang, Frank/Gerard, PG-13, Part 4

[xaritomene]

Masterpost
Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

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[In the end, the spell gave in without too much fuss. It had, as Bob had expected, taken an act of almost Herculean will to get it to see his point of view, but once he had managed that, it was a case of 'not with a bang, but with a whimper'. With only a backwards grumble, the spell began to unravel itself until all that was left was the raw magic. Bob felt a sense almost of regret. It had been a pain in the ass, but it had been a good spell.

He ran a hand through the loose magic left over and watched as it collapsed in on itself until all that was left was a little ball of magic, no bigger than a ping-pong ball. When he held his hand out to it, he was left with a vague sense of smugness as it reabsorbed into him.]

**

When Gerard woke, he had never been so glad to see the too-near ceiling of his bunk in his entire life. Unfortunately, that view was obscured by Ray, who was holding a book over his face, and peering down at him, half-worried, half-curious.

“You’re not gonna drop that on me, are you?” Gerard asked, voice rusty.

Ray leapt back and, startled, let go of the book. “Sorry!” he said quickly, as Gerard shoved the book off his face, and frowned at him.

“I think you broke my nose,” he said, rubbing at it, and Ray winced.

“Sorry?” He tried again, and Gerard was too glad to be awake to hold on to any kind of anger, and waved off his apology.

“So, how long has it been, anyway?” He asked, propping himself up on his elbow.

“Oh, man, like a day and a half?” Ray pondered it for a second. “Mikey was climbing the walls until he passed out, and then he woke up talking about magic and romance novels and never letting you read another one ever, and then he was talking about punching Bob.” He paused briefly. “I’m pretty sure he didn’t, though, so. No worries there, right?”

Gerard began to ask what Bob had to do with anything, but broke off halfway to scramble awkwardly out of his bunk and all but fall into Frank’s. “Frank? Are you awake? Are you OK?”

“I’m fine,” Frank said, a little muffled by Gerard, who was mostly straddling him and was clutching Frank’s face in both hands. From the other side of the curtains, Ray was watching them with some interest, and Bob and Mikey were stood in the door to the back lounge, also watching them, though Mikey had his arms folded and looked about as irate as Mikey ever got, and Bob mostly just looked sheepish.

Gerard paused, then clambered off Frank and let him up. “So, um,” he offered the assembled company a rather weak grin. “We’re back?”

“Did you work things out?” Bob asked eagerly, before Mikey quelled him with the merest suggestion of a glance.

“What things did we need to work out?” Gerard asked, looking askance at him.

“I think,” Ray said, “Bob means the way you and Frank have been making really obvious sheep eyes at each other for about two years now. And,” he added, warming to his theme, “that’s not even counting the stealthy sheep eyes you’d been making for years before that.”

Gerard glanced at Bob, who was nodding, then at Frank, who had climbed out of his bunk and was standing next to him. “Oh, um, yeah,” Frank nodded, “we worked that one out.”

“Awesome,” Bob said, with oddly heart-felt relief, and tried to duck back into the back-lounge before Mikey latched onto his arm, and yanked him back in.

“I think Bob has something to say to you,” he said, and despite the phrasing, there was nothing of the nursery school about his tone.

Bob, however, looked appropriately chastened. “Um, yeah. I’m really sorry, guys,” he said, and wow, ‘chastened’ was really not a good look on him. He was too big a guy to slump like that.

“For what?” Frank asked, and Gerard tried not to notice the way Frank had clasped their hands together behind their backs, trying desperately to look as though he was entirely focused on the conversation rather than how Frank’s hand felt in his.

“Um. So. This could be quite a long story?” Bob said, shuffling awkwardly.

“Well then,” Gerard broke in, disentangling Frank’s hand from his with no little regret. “We’re gonna need coffee.”

**

Twenty minutes and a reassuringly large cup of coffee later, they got some answers.

“I know it’s sexist and everything,” Frank said, taking an obnoxious slurp of his coffee and keeping his hand firmly on Gerard’s knee, “but I always kind of assumed you’d have to be a girl to be a witch. Wait,” he added, eyes going huge, staring at Bob, “wait, you’re not, are you?”

Bob gave him the most long-suffering look Gerard had ever seen. “No, Frank. I’m a dude, and I’m also a witch.”

“My witch,” Gerard corrected, with a grin of his own.

“Your guardian,” Bob corrected him right back. “The large muscular person designated to keep you from harm.”

Gerard ignored this vagary. “So what did you do?” he asked, leaning forward eagerly. “I mean, was it like a - a temporal flux? Or loads and loads of alternate universes which we kept flicking between?”

“Gee-” Frank started, and Gerard nodded instantly.

“No, you’re right - no way I would have been Barbara in all of them. So what was it? Like, a- a wormhole or…?”

“It was magic, Gee,” Bob said repressively.

“Oh, right.” Gerard nodded absently, clearly still thinking it through, laying his hand over Frank’s on his knee. “So, do you, like, get assigned to be someone’s guardian, then?”

“Er. Yeah. Pretty much.”

“Who assigns you?” Gerard asked interestedly.

“Um. The Coven.”

“Man.” Gerard sounded weirdly contemplative. “This kind of sucks.”

“Dude, what the fuck?” Frank asked. “This is awesome, Bob’s a witch!”

“Yeah, but - magic exists, and we still don’t have it,” he explained. “It’s like - waiting for your Hogwarts letter and not getting it, despite knowing that Hogwarts is actually an option. And, there’re like, Covens and witches and shit, and I’m the person being protected instead of being all bad-ass and doing the protection.”

Bob cleared his throat. “Um. I might not be your guardian for much longer,” he said awkwardly, glancing at Mikey. “I think Mikey’s planning to send the Coven an official letter of complaint.”

Gerard looked at Mikey in some surprise. Mikey didn’t so much as budge. “He sent you and Frank into a magical coma. And made you live through romance novels.” By the time he finished speaking, Mikey was almost emoting.

Frank shrugged. “But it turned out fine, right?” He squeezed Gerard’s knee just a little.

Gerard was perfectly aware that his smile was more than a little ridiculous, but he at least managed to sound mostly normal when he opened his mouth. “Yeah, it’s fine now.”

“Gee, did you or did you not get strangled?” Mikey asked flatly.

“Well, yes,” Gerard conceded, and Bob flushed a little. “But that was in the-”

“Magical alternate reality Bob created for you!”

“Which, when you think about it, was actually really nice of him!” Mikey gaped at him. “What?” Gerard asked defensively. “No one’s ever created a magical alternate reality for me before. Not even you!”

Mikey continued to stare at his brother for a long, long moment, then glanced between him and Frank, then looked at their joined hands. Finally, he threw up his hands and sighed. “Fine, but if anything like this happens ever again, I will kick your ass,” he pointed at Bob, “and then yours.” With one final threatening point at Gerard, he took himself off into the bunks, presumably to sulk.

Gerard watched him go, torn for a moment between heading after his brother, and demanding that Bob do magic for him. In the end, magic - and Frank - won out.

Bob, however, stymied this plan by standing immediately and avoiding their eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, “and I’m really glad it worked. And, um, now, I have to go find Ray and we need to, um. Write. Music. For this band. Yeah.”

With that stilted statement, he all but sprinted for the back lounge.

For a long moment, Frank and Gerard stared at each other. “So,” Frank began, at the exact same time as Gerard opened with a faintly awkward, “Well.”

They grinned at one another sheepishly.

“Y’know,” Gerard said contemplatively, “this was a lot easier when I was in a dress.”

Frank opened his mouth and then grinned. “Please, don’t let me stop you putting one on.”

Gerard paused for a moment, momentarily thrown. “Really? Is the dress-”

“No,” Frank said quickly. Gerard looked set to start in on some big speech about equality and transvestitism and acceptance of other people, and Frank jumped in before he got started. “Gee, really. It’s not because I’m not - accepting of other people or - or, anything. If you wanna wear a dress or a skirt or heels or whatever, that’s just fine by me. I really, really don’t care what you wear.”

“I don’t wanna wear a dress,” Gerard said contemplatively, and Frank could actually see him gearing himself up to feel bad about that

“Then that’s that sorted, then!” he said brightly. “Can we make out now?”

Gerard stared at him for a minute, and they sat in silence for a few moments, just staring at each other. Finally, Gerard broke the silence. “Are you waiting for a formal invitation, or something?” Frank launched himself at him, knocking him backwards onto the couch. “Ow!” Gerard complained, but he was grinning.

“Christ, you baby,” Frank said, but cupped the back of his head tenderly to draw him into a kiss.

**

By anyone’s standards, it was a great show, and Frank was fucking ecstatic. The house was packed, the kids were loud and Gerard fucking owned them, had them hanging on his every word as he screamed down into the crowd. Frank felt alive, the music sizzling up through his guitar and into his veins, and he threw himself around the stage, hurling himself down in front of Bob’s riser, getting up in Ray’s space, flinging himself at Mikey. This, this was what he’d been fucking born to do. Gerard stalked him around the stage, occasionally dragging him in for a kiss, or looping an arm around his neck. Right then, though, as they waited for the cue, he was standing at the front of the stage, one leg propped on an amp, yelling out at the crowd, who yelled just as loudly back.

"Love is - love is pretty much the best thing ever, right, guys? Nothing can beat it. So wherever, however, you find it, with whichever lucky person you find it, you should grab onto that shit and hold on tight. Keep hold of it no matter what. ‘Cause no matter how shit everything is -no matter how much you have to face for everything to come right again, it will always, always be worth it." He glanced across at Frank and grinned suddenly, wide and almost manic but breathtakingly happy. “It is so, so worth it.”

Frank knew what he was about to do almost before Gerard did, and when Gerard pulled him in for a kiss, it came as no surprise whatsoever. He went with it, listening to the screams of the crowd, and grinned into the kiss.

It was no romance novel, but it suited them just fine.

**

FIN

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Masterpost - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

**

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Thanks again go to everyone who looked over this at some point in the last year that it's taken us to write - to phantomjam who put up with the whining, lullula who listened to it too, ashling_lily who cheerled like a mofo for so long, and everyone on both our f-lists who sat so patiently and let us whine and rant and moan about this entire thing, up to and way past the point where it was finished. You are all so, so awesome. :D

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