Fic: Déjà Vu
déjà vu part one of two.
frank/gerard
1,914 words
do not own
for whisperingtome. normality is just around the corner, i'm sure of it. thepriestkitten - a belated birthday present.
written for 100_situations prompt 040: argue
Frank sighed and shifted gear heavy-handedly, causing the old car to jolt and Gerard to grimace for what seemed like the seventeenth time in the past half an hour.
“You could be a bit more gentle,” Gerard offered, unhelpfully. Frank gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and furrowed his brow -- he wasn’t in the mood for Gerard’s pointless advice.
“Sure.”
It was Christmas Eve -- not Frank’s favorite day by any means -- and this journey was making it a whole lot worse. They had been driving for the best part of two hours, and the car had been subtly warning them that it wouldn’t hold up for much longer ever since Frank had first put the key in the ignition.
It was surprisingly sunny for the time of year, and Frank found himself squinting in the light that was penetrating the glass of the windshield. He put a hand on top of his head and snatched down the white-rimmed sunglasses that, more often than not, were always perched there.
From his newly darkened perspective, he shot a glance at Gerard who was narrowing his eyes and exhaling somewhat overdramatically. Frank laughed uncertainly.
“Where’re your sunglasses?”
Gerard turned his head slowly to face Frank in a labored manner, before giving him a disdainful look.
“I forgot them,” he answered coldly.
Frank was amazed that through gritting his teeth and pursing his lips, Gerard had managed to make the fact that he had forgotten his sunglasses seem like it was all Frank’s fault.
He would have thrown some derisive insult Gerard’s way if he had not known exactly how the older man was feeling at that moment. He knew because he was feeling the same.
They were on their way to Gerard’s parents’ house for Christmas, and they had hardly spoken a word. The tension in the air was palpable, but neither of them would admit to being scared of what they were about to do.
Frank didn’t know why the thought of telling Gerard’s parents that he and Gerard were together was so scary, but it stirred the butterflies in his stomach and sent them into overdrive. He knew Gerard must be feeling ten times worse.
His conscience gave a twinge, and he reached over to the passenger side to give Gerard’s thigh an affectionate squeeze. They shared a brief smile before Frank focussed his attention back on the road.
He slowed down as they rounded a bend, and wondered where the hell they were. It had been his idea to take the back roads in the hope of avoiding any holiday traffic, but, in all honesty, he had no fucking clue where he was going. He hadn’t seen another car for miles and he was starting to wonder whether they were even going in the right direction.
The car shuddered violently, breaking Frank’s chain of thought, and a loud cough and splutter from under the bonnet cut through the silence like a knife. Frank spun the steering wheel quickly and pressed his foot flat onto the break pedal, but it did nothing to slow the car down. It swerved from the road and onto the grassy verge before the radio gave a faint pop and a plume of smoke was released from the tape slot. One last, pathetic creak signalled the car’s final moments, and seconds later the two men were sat in a broken, battered car with no idea where they were, and no way of finding out.
For a moment, both Frank and Gerard sat perfectly still just watching the curling smoke disappear into the air surrounding them. The only sound, other than their breathing, was a small hiss emanating from some other part of the car that neither of them cared to discover.
It was Gerard who moved first. He wrapped his fingers around the plastic door handle and pulled it gently. The door didn’t budge.
“It’s not locked,” Frank informed him.
He tried again, this time a little too aggressively, and there was a small snapping sound as the handle broke off -- it was the final straw for Gerard.
“Fuck!” He banged his fist against the dashboard, and ran the other hand through his dishevelled black hair.
Frank tried his door handle -- it opened without any problems -- and got out of the car. Gerard watched as Frank pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialled a number quickly. He rolled down his window slightly to let some fresh air into the worn-out car, and into his lungs. Through the gap he heard the snippets of Frank’s conversation that weren’t carried in away by the breeze.
“We’ve broken down.”
Gerard closed his eyes and cursed the crappy car for not holding out until they got to his parents’ house.
“I want to fix things.”
Gerard presumed Frank meant the car, he was probably asking for advice on how to repair the engine -- or whatever the fuck had broken.
The next thing Gerard heard was muffled, as though Frank was lowering his voice purposely, but he told himself Frank’s words were just being distorted by the wind.
“Is three hours okay? I’ve got to make things right.”
Gerard was straining to hear now, and his brow was furrowed in concentration, but there was no point anymore because Frank was shoving the cell phone deep into his jeans pocket again, and walking back towards the car.
He slipped back into the driving seat, and shook his head at nothing in particular. The tension inside the car had not subsided yet.
Frank spoke before Gerard had a chance to question him on the phone conversation.
“The recovery guy said he could be anywhere up to three hours, and that he’d only come if the weather held out. He said it looked as though a storm was coming.”
Gerard didn’t say anything -- he was still puzzled by Frank’s final words to whoever was on the phone. It was pointless to worry though, so he settled with the reasoning that he had just misheard, what with the wind and all.
Frank spoke again, obviously disliking the silence. “Look on the bright side, Gee. At least we don’t have to tell your parents for another few hours.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew they were the wrong ones -- he didn’t need the hurt look from Gerard to tell him that. Fuck, he thought, I’m supposed to be making things better.
---
Frank took a deep drag from his cigarette and shivered in the cold air. It had been an hour since the car had broken down, and the weather had definitely taken a turn for the worse -- so much for the sunshine.
Gerard was sat on the soft grass and leant against the metal of the car door. There were dark circles around his eyes and Frank watched his eyelids droop heavily. He knew Gerard hadn’t been sleeping well because, for the past week, he had awoken early to find the older man pottering around whatever hotel room they were staying in. It seemed this visit to his parents’ house was weighing heavily on Gerard’s mind.
Frank was again reminded of the mindless comment he had made earlier, and felt another pang of guilt.
A huge drop of rain landed heavily on the bridge of Gerard’s nose; his eyes wandered back up to the clouds as the water ran down onto his top lip, and eventually inside his mouth.
“Sunglasses are pretty useless now I guess,” Frank chuckled apprehensively. He was trying to lighten the mood, but Gerard, it appeared, was determined to be all doom and gloom.
Frank took one last drag of his cigarette before walking towards Gerard and offering a hand. It was accepted, and Frank pulled the sitting man to his feet, but didn’t let go of his hand. Their fingers brushed gently, and Frank thought it was the right time to apologize.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean for it to sound like I didn’t want to tell your parents, ‘cause I do. I really do. It’s just--”
Gerard cut him off.
“Shut up,” he said, before pulling Frank’s hips towards his as he fell against the rusty car for support. They kissed softly at first, just to find some common ground again, but it was soon more passionate, more aggressive -- a mess of warm tongues and cold teeth, chapped lips against chapped lips, and frozen noses touching from time to time as their heads moved to the rhythm their mouths had set.
The icy rain was beating down hard on their heads and shoulders, sliding down their necks and underneath their flimsy t-shirts. They were shivering, clutching each other for warmth and comfort and to ease all the tension they had let build up.
In his careful kisses, Frank was saying sorry for acting like an asshole, and Gerard, in his rough, fervent ones, was letting Frank know it was okay -- he was forgiven.
They made their way back into the car through the one working door and clambered onto the back seat; their clothes were pulled off frantically, haphazardly, as the rain and wind continued to rage outside. Short breaths and even shorter words were hardly audible over the gray sheets of water being thrown from the sky, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter one bit, because they knew what the words were. They had known for a long time. They were whispering, panting, moaning, screaming; but every time it was the same three words being used. ‘I love you.’
---
A small tap at the window awoke Gerard from the first real sleep he’d had all week. He peered out; a face was visible through the condensation on the glass, and he jumped when he realized it was probably a man with a truck, coming to pick them up.
He felt his face burning up, despite the chill inside the car, and he shook Frank awake; this was embarrassing.
“Frank, c’mon. Get your pants on, dumbass.” Frank groaned, and began to open his eyes slowly.
The face at the window extended an arm and tapped on the glass again.
Gerard wriggled into his black pants and did the button up over his pale tummy. He sat up, pulling a still-damp shirt over his head and cursing himself for not having woken earlier.
He leant forward to the driver’s side door and began to roll the window down hastily. The face he was met with wasn’t one he had been expecting.
“Hey, Gee!”
It was Mikey. Gerard’s brother had a huge smile spread across his angular face, and he showed not the slightest bit of embarrassment at the fact that Frank, his bandmate and one of his best friends, was sprawled out on the backseat of the car with only a t-shirt covering him and his dignity.
“What the fuck… why are you here?” Gerard was beyond puzzled. As far as he knew, no one had called Mikey.
“Frank called a few hours ago. He told me you’d broken down, but to wait a while before coming to pick you up. Looks like I should have waited a bit longer!” Mikey sniggered and turned his back on Gerard and the car, before shouting, “I’ll be waiting in the car, kids. Hurry up.”
Frank sat up, and yawned widely as Gerard stared, open-mouthed.
“I take it Mikey’s here then?”
---
part two
frank/gerard
1,914 words
do not own
for whisperingtome. normality is just around the corner, i'm sure of it. thepriestkitten - a belated birthday present.
written for 100_situations prompt 040: argue
Frank sighed and shifted gear heavy-handedly, causing the old car to jolt and Gerard to grimace for what seemed like the seventeenth time in the past half an hour.
“You could be a bit more gentle,” Gerard offered, unhelpfully. Frank gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and furrowed his brow -- he wasn’t in the mood for Gerard’s pointless advice.
“Sure.”
It was Christmas Eve -- not Frank’s favorite day by any means -- and this journey was making it a whole lot worse. They had been driving for the best part of two hours, and the car had been subtly warning them that it wouldn’t hold up for much longer ever since Frank had first put the key in the ignition.
It was surprisingly sunny for the time of year, and Frank found himself squinting in the light that was penetrating the glass of the windshield. He put a hand on top of his head and snatched down the white-rimmed sunglasses that, more often than not, were always perched there.
From his newly darkened perspective, he shot a glance at Gerard who was narrowing his eyes and exhaling somewhat overdramatically. Frank laughed uncertainly.
“Where’re your sunglasses?”
Gerard turned his head slowly to face Frank in a labored manner, before giving him a disdainful look.
“I forgot them,” he answered coldly.
Frank was amazed that through gritting his teeth and pursing his lips, Gerard had managed to make the fact that he had forgotten his sunglasses seem like it was all Frank’s fault.
He would have thrown some derisive insult Gerard’s way if he had not known exactly how the older man was feeling at that moment. He knew because he was feeling the same.
They were on their way to Gerard’s parents’ house for Christmas, and they had hardly spoken a word. The tension in the air was palpable, but neither of them would admit to being scared of what they were about to do.
Frank didn’t know why the thought of telling Gerard’s parents that he and Gerard were together was so scary, but it stirred the butterflies in his stomach and sent them into overdrive. He knew Gerard must be feeling ten times worse.
His conscience gave a twinge, and he reached over to the passenger side to give Gerard’s thigh an affectionate squeeze. They shared a brief smile before Frank focussed his attention back on the road.
He slowed down as they rounded a bend, and wondered where the hell they were. It had been his idea to take the back roads in the hope of avoiding any holiday traffic, but, in all honesty, he had no fucking clue where he was going. He hadn’t seen another car for miles and he was starting to wonder whether they were even going in the right direction.
The car shuddered violently, breaking Frank’s chain of thought, and a loud cough and splutter from under the bonnet cut through the silence like a knife. Frank spun the steering wheel quickly and pressed his foot flat onto the break pedal, but it did nothing to slow the car down. It swerved from the road and onto the grassy verge before the radio gave a faint pop and a plume of smoke was released from the tape slot. One last, pathetic creak signalled the car’s final moments, and seconds later the two men were sat in a broken, battered car with no idea where they were, and no way of finding out.
For a moment, both Frank and Gerard sat perfectly still just watching the curling smoke disappear into the air surrounding them. The only sound, other than their breathing, was a small hiss emanating from some other part of the car that neither of them cared to discover.
It was Gerard who moved first. He wrapped his fingers around the plastic door handle and pulled it gently. The door didn’t budge.
“It’s not locked,” Frank informed him.
He tried again, this time a little too aggressively, and there was a small snapping sound as the handle broke off -- it was the final straw for Gerard.
“Fuck!” He banged his fist against the dashboard, and ran the other hand through his dishevelled black hair.
Frank tried his door handle -- it opened without any problems -- and got out of the car. Gerard watched as Frank pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialled a number quickly. He rolled down his window slightly to let some fresh air into the worn-out car, and into his lungs. Through the gap he heard the snippets of Frank’s conversation that weren’t carried in away by the breeze.
“We’ve broken down.”
Gerard closed his eyes and cursed the crappy car for not holding out until they got to his parents’ house.
“I want to fix things.”
Gerard presumed Frank meant the car, he was probably asking for advice on how to repair the engine -- or whatever the fuck had broken.
The next thing Gerard heard was muffled, as though Frank was lowering his voice purposely, but he told himself Frank’s words were just being distorted by the wind.
“Is three hours okay? I’ve got to make things right.”
Gerard was straining to hear now, and his brow was furrowed in concentration, but there was no point anymore because Frank was shoving the cell phone deep into his jeans pocket again, and walking back towards the car.
He slipped back into the driving seat, and shook his head at nothing in particular. The tension inside the car had not subsided yet.
Frank spoke before Gerard had a chance to question him on the phone conversation.
“The recovery guy said he could be anywhere up to three hours, and that he’d only come if the weather held out. He said it looked as though a storm was coming.”
Gerard didn’t say anything -- he was still puzzled by Frank’s final words to whoever was on the phone. It was pointless to worry though, so he settled with the reasoning that he had just misheard, what with the wind and all.
Frank spoke again, obviously disliking the silence. “Look on the bright side, Gee. At least we don’t have to tell your parents for another few hours.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew they were the wrong ones -- he didn’t need the hurt look from Gerard to tell him that. Fuck, he thought, I’m supposed to be making things better.
---
Frank took a deep drag from his cigarette and shivered in the cold air. It had been an hour since the car had broken down, and the weather had definitely taken a turn for the worse -- so much for the sunshine.
Gerard was sat on the soft grass and leant against the metal of the car door. There were dark circles around his eyes and Frank watched his eyelids droop heavily. He knew Gerard hadn’t been sleeping well because, for the past week, he had awoken early to find the older man pottering around whatever hotel room they were staying in. It seemed this visit to his parents’ house was weighing heavily on Gerard’s mind.
Frank was again reminded of the mindless comment he had made earlier, and felt another pang of guilt.
A huge drop of rain landed heavily on the bridge of Gerard’s nose; his eyes wandered back up to the clouds as the water ran down onto his top lip, and eventually inside his mouth.
“Sunglasses are pretty useless now I guess,” Frank chuckled apprehensively. He was trying to lighten the mood, but Gerard, it appeared, was determined to be all doom and gloom.
Frank took one last drag of his cigarette before walking towards Gerard and offering a hand. It was accepted, and Frank pulled the sitting man to his feet, but didn’t let go of his hand. Their fingers brushed gently, and Frank thought it was the right time to apologize.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean for it to sound like I didn’t want to tell your parents, ‘cause I do. I really do. It’s just--”
Gerard cut him off.
“Shut up,” he said, before pulling Frank’s hips towards his as he fell against the rusty car for support. They kissed softly at first, just to find some common ground again, but it was soon more passionate, more aggressive -- a mess of warm tongues and cold teeth, chapped lips against chapped lips, and frozen noses touching from time to time as their heads moved to the rhythm their mouths had set.
The icy rain was beating down hard on their heads and shoulders, sliding down their necks and underneath their flimsy t-shirts. They were shivering, clutching each other for warmth and comfort and to ease all the tension they had let build up.
In his careful kisses, Frank was saying sorry for acting like an asshole, and Gerard, in his rough, fervent ones, was letting Frank know it was okay -- he was forgiven.
They made their way back into the car through the one working door and clambered onto the back seat; their clothes were pulled off frantically, haphazardly, as the rain and wind continued to rage outside. Short breaths and even shorter words were hardly audible over the gray sheets of water being thrown from the sky, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter one bit, because they knew what the words were. They had known for a long time. They were whispering, panting, moaning, screaming; but every time it was the same three words being used. ‘I love you.’
---
A small tap at the window awoke Gerard from the first real sleep he’d had all week. He peered out; a face was visible through the condensation on the glass, and he jumped when he realized it was probably a man with a truck, coming to pick them up.
He felt his face burning up, despite the chill inside the car, and he shook Frank awake; this was embarrassing.
“Frank, c’mon. Get your pants on, dumbass.” Frank groaned, and began to open his eyes slowly.
The face at the window extended an arm and tapped on the glass again.
Gerard wriggled into his black pants and did the button up over his pale tummy. He sat up, pulling a still-damp shirt over his head and cursing himself for not having woken earlier.
He leant forward to the driver’s side door and began to roll the window down hastily. The face he was met with wasn’t one he had been expecting.
“Hey, Gee!”
It was Mikey. Gerard’s brother had a huge smile spread across his angular face, and he showed not the slightest bit of embarrassment at the fact that Frank, his bandmate and one of his best friends, was sprawled out on the backseat of the car with only a t-shirt covering him and his dignity.
“What the fuck… why are you here?” Gerard was beyond puzzled. As far as he knew, no one had called Mikey.
“Frank called a few hours ago. He told me you’d broken down, but to wait a while before coming to pick you up. Looks like I should have waited a bit longer!” Mikey sniggered and turned his back on Gerard and the car, before shouting, “I’ll be waiting in the car, kids. Hurry up.”
Frank sat up, and yawned widely as Gerard stared, open-mouthed.
“I take it Mikey’s here then?”
---
part two