[Bandslash, MCR] Every Other Morning Before (1/2)
Title: Every Other Morning Before
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
Word Count: ~12,400
Disclaimer: Not real, and not mine.
Summary: My Chemical Romance goes on hiatus and Gerard finally gets his hamsters.
Notes: Otherwise known as hamster shenanigans fic. No, really.
Everything starts before they even go on break, just random crap in the middle of the night when none of them can sleep. The whole thing feels very slumber party to Frank, or at least what movies tell him they're like. That last might be because they're all in their bunks with the curtains open.
They're the right kind of comfortable and tired that tends to lead to things like talking about movies and playing stupid road games. He's pretty sure if Gerard wasn't so tired there'd be make-overs and hair braiding going on too. Ray's totally a sucker for Gerard's big, sad eyes, and Bob and Mikey are prime targets now they've let their hair grow out.
Ray's the one to ask, words a little hard to make out around a yawn. No one answers right away, thinking about all the things they're going to have time for now. Two years worth of time, which isn't really isn't that much in the business when it comes down to it.
Not when they'll be headed back into the studio in a few months. Not with all the interviews and other promotional stuff in between. Not when it's them.
Frank knows saying they're taking a few years off is pretty much a lie because they'll be doing something before then. Maybe a secret show here and there, or some kind of amazing opportunity they wouldn't have gotten a few years ago, and might not get again.
Bob clears his throat. “I was thinking about working on my solo project.”
That startles a laugh out of Ray, and after that it's like the floodgates opening with everyone talking about the plans they have for the break. Side projects, trips to places they've been to but never had the chance to be the pain in the ass tourist at, and best of all, down time with their families.
“I'm going to sleep for a month,” Mikey says.
Ray laughs. “Oh my god you guys. Sleep. In actual beds.”
They all take a moment to think about that.
Frank stares at the bottom of bunk above him and feels a stupid smile spreading over his face. “Showers.”
Bob snorts. Frank can't make out what he says over Gerard's indignant squawk, but it's not all that hard to figure out. Especially when Ray sides with Bob and Mikey taking Gerard's side of things. Frank stays out of by pretending he can't hear them, which, no. That's not really possible with them trying to talk over one another and laughing like idiots.
Frank grins to himself because he's going to miss the whole endless road trip thing they have going, but it's going to be nice to have the ground stay still under his feet for a while.
It doesn't occur to him until later that Gerard never said what he was going to do.
====
====
A few weeks into the break Gerard calls and leaves a message on Frank's voicemail, and Frank. Okay, Frank knows Gerard's an excitable guy. They all do. They have a system with specific levels of excitability, but Gerard's message is completely off the scale.
He's not finishing his sentences, and he's not even forming coherent words. The excited squealing sort of makes that difficult. Frank gets that, he really does. He's seen it countless times before from their fans, but this is Gerard. He can squeal and talk at the same time.
Frank hurries his ass over to Gerard's place, and isn't prepared for what he sees when he rings the doorbell.
“Uh.” Frank squints. The thing on Gerard's shoulder sits up, tiny little nose twitching. “There's - “
“I know!”
Gerard's beaming at him even though it's the middle of the night and there's a rat on his shoulder.
Frank clears his throat. “Is that a - “
“It's a hamster!” Gerard's still beaming. Frank is seriously confused.
“A hamster.”
Gerard nods, and snags the sleeve of Frank's jacket to drag him inside. The stupid little hamster on his shoulder is watching Frank with its beady, beady little eyes. Gerard doesn't let go until they're in the living room.
There are bags everywhere, and sitting in the middle of the living room is a big wire cage with even more hamsters. One's running in the little wheel. Frank's a little impressed at how damn fast the little guy's going - his tiny little feet are a blur - and the rest of the hamsters are sort of lounging around.
“I just got them today, aren't they amazing?”
Frank looks back at Gerard, and the hamster's still on his shoulder.
Watching Frank.
It's huge, or maybe that's just the totally crazy fur it has going on because he's pretty sure hamsters aren't supposed to be the size of a softball.
Gerard scoops the hamster off his shoulder and shoves it at Frank. “Hold him! He's awesome!”
Frank doesn't want to drop the stupid hamster, so he cups his hands and looks down at it when Gerard coaxes it onto Frank's hands. The little guy sniffs at his fingers, waddling around and checking things out, or whatever it is hamsters do.
Gerard's standing right next to him, and he can see Gerard's big, stupid smile at the corner of his eye.
It's not like Frank hasn't seen it a million times before, it's just. Usually when he sees it there are other people around, and this time there aren't, so it's a little different. Even if Gerard is just smiling at his stupid hamster.
“Oh, cool. He likes you,” Gerard says. Frank realizes that the thing is more fur than hamster when Gerard leans in to pet it, and his fingers go through a million feet of fur before actually touching hamster.
Frank shakes his head and tries to hand the hamster back, but Gerard turns and heads over to the big cage.
“Come over here and meet the rest of them,” Gerard says. Like they're at a party and he wants Frank to meet the other guests.
Gerard waves him over, and Frank goes because it's not as though he has anything better to do.
There are two more hamsters sitting at the mouth of a little plastic cave at the bottom of the cage. When Gerard reaches in they come out to see what all the fuss is about, little noses twitching. They're falling over one another, just a ball of fur and legs and twitchy noses.
The new hamsters have the same coloring, and one's kind of scrawny. They look like they might be the same breed, but it's not like Frank's a hamster expert or anything.
“They were the last ones of their litter left, and I couldn't separate them,” Gerard says with a helpless smile.
Frank rolls his eyes and cranes his neck to get a look at the big one with really light fur. It's sitting by itself on a platform near the top of the cage while the other one runs its little heart out in the wheel.
“Did you name them yet?” Frank asks, looking down at the hamster in his hand when it nibbles on his thumb.
Gerard shakes his head and pets the little dark-furred hamsters on their heads. “Not yet. I want to make sure their names fit.”
Frank frowns at that, but doesn't say anything. He's sure what Gerard means he wants their names to fit them, or he just hasn't come up with anything suitably dorky for them yet. That's not a problem, though, because Frank's more worried about what the hamster he's holding is doing. It's almost like the thing is doing taste-testing or something, nibbling and licking his fingers or hand and moving on. Like it's hoping to find something to suit it's palate, and that's actually a disturbing thought.
“Hey,” Frank says, carefully jiggling his hands when the hamster bites a little too hard for his peace of mind. “Hey, hamsters are herbivores, right?” Frank hopes they are, anyway when the hamster in his hands yawn and he gets a look at its teeth.
Gerard's crouched in front of the cage, watching the other hamsters so he isn't looking at Frank, which is probably a good thing. He doesn't want to have to kill Gerard for laughing at him because Frank's maybe, maybe worried about a tiny ball of fluff that fits in the palm of his hand.
“What?”
Frank eyes the hamster warily because it's staring at him again, and really. It's just a hamster, but he really doesn't like the way it's looking at him.
“Herbivore, right?” Frank asks, holding the hamster out.
Gerard frowns. “No, they're omnivores.” And then, as if that's not worrying enough, “There's this theory that feeding them meat encourages adult hamster to cannibalize their young. Awesome, huh?”
Frank looks down at the hamster sniffing at his fingers. “Yeah. Awesome.”
“I mean. Okay,” Gerard says. “It's not awesome in the they eat their own babies way, just. You know, fascinating.”
Frank wouldn't put it like that, but whatever. Good to know ahead of time Gerard's gotten himself a pack of potentially cannibalistic furballs as pets.
Gerard snorts and takes the hamster Frank's still holding from him, carefully setting it back in the cage with the rest of the hamsters.
“That normally only happens with mothers and their offspring, and it's not like they just wake up one day and go 'Mmmm, my babies would be delicious!' or anything. It's a survival mechanism when there isn't enough food for all the babies and they'd die anyway.” Gerard pauses. “Or, you know, stress.”
Frank stares at him. “You almost had me sold on the whole cannibalism thing not being weird and creepy. It must be nice to know if your mom's had a shitty day she might kill and eat you.”
Gerard rolls his eyes and sits down in front of the cage, watching his weird, creepy pets. After a moment Frank sits down next to him.
“So why now?” Frank asks, glancing at the hamster cage when a scuffle breaks out between the big sand-colored hamster and the little guy who was on the wheel.
Gerard doesn't answer right away. He's watching the hamsters, sitting up in case he's going to have to separate the two hamsters or something, Frank doesn't know. It's pretty obvious the hamsters are play-fighting even though the big one could probably do some damage if it really wanted to.
“I'm not sure,” Gerard mumbles, trying to disappear in his hoodie. “I guess it was one of those things that seemed like a good idea at the time?”
Right. Frank's not really buying that, not when 'the time' was a few hours ago, and Gerard's watching his hamsters with this. This look on his face. Like their tiny, furry little faces are the most amazing things he's ever seen in his entire life.
Frank shakes his head and bumps Gerard's shoulder with his own. Gerard smiles and bumps back, leaning against Frank to watch his hamsters.
====
====
The next time Frank comes over to see Gerard it's because Gerard has acquired two new hamsters and he's worried there's going to be a fight.
“Seriously?” Frank's looking at the hamsters, taking stock of the way the original five are pretty much in their own world.
Gerard shrugs, then fidgets and looks like he's only a few steps away from wringing his hands with worry. “This is serious, Frank. They could fight to the death!”
Gerard sounds strangely excited about that possibility even though Frank knows he'd be heartbroken if it actually happened. He'd probably freak the hell out too, not that Frank would blame him for that.
“Maybe you shouldn't put them together,” Frank says. “I mean if it's going to be a bloodbath or whatever.”
“They're all young enough that this should work.” Gerard still looks worried.
Frank might not be overly invested in the goings on of hamsters, but the little guys mean a lot to Gerard, and he doesn't want to be witness to a hamster deathmatch. “Are you sure about this?”
Gerard shrugs, but he's so worked up about the whole hamster situation that it looks more like a nervous twitch. “Yes?”
Frank sighs and shoves Gerard over, moving so that he's in front of the two cages.
Thanks to Gerard spouting bits of hamster trivia at random moments Frank knows the hamsters probably can't even see him. Maybe he's just a big blur to them or whatever, but it's still a little disconcerting the way they seem to be watching him.
“So what, I just dump them in?”
Gerard makes a horrified face and pushes Frank aside. ”Oh my god. Move over, move over.”
Sitting back to watch Gerard introducing the new hamsters to his original bunch, Frank tries - he really does - not to smirk, but it's a little difficult.
Especially when the smaller hamster sort of glares at Gerard. Well, okay. It doesn't glare so much as stare at him like it doesn't think it wants Gerard being responsible for its well-being.
“Oh, this is awesome,” Frank says, scooting forward when the little guy stands up on his hind legs and gives Gerard this squinty-eyed look of hamsterish disdain. “Where did you find these guys?”
Gerard scowls and nudges the pissy hamster, trying to get it moving. “Shut up, Frank.”
“No, no. Really, this is awesome.” Frank is starting to get why Gerard's so fascinated with his stupid hamsters. They're like tiny people, only really, really not.
Frank hasn't really spent any time getting to know them or anything, it's not like he's buddies with the stupid things, but he can understand why Gerard likes them. They're tiny and adorable and it's hilarious watching them walk around on their stubby legs.
“Did you name them yet?”
Gerard's still watching the hamsters, gnawing on his bottom lip, and from the way his hands are twitching it's only a matter of time before he starts biting his fingernails.
“Hey,” Frank grabs Gerard's hand on its way to his mouth and tugs him back against the couch, giving the hamsters a little more room and forcing Gerard to look away. “Hey, did you name them yet?”
Gerard makes this face at him, part frown part something else and leans against Frank, his stupid feet getting tangled with Frank's. “Sort of,” he mumbles through a yawn. “That little one's Rorschach.”
Frank follows where Gerard's pointing to where the manic little hamster is in some sort of stand-off with the new hamsters. He's hunkered down like he's expecting a fight, which is ridiculous because the other hamsters don't seem to be paying any attention to him. They keep walking around him to sniff curiously at the new hamsters.
Frank relaxes when one the two dark-furred hamsters get him to back down by plopping themselves down on either side of him and using him as a pillow, which is some kind of signal to the others that things are fine in Hamsterland.
“That's kind of a big name for him, don't you think?”
Gerard shrugs, turning his head to dig his chin into Frank's shoulder. “I left some paint out the other day when I went to answer the phone, and when I came back out he was covered in it.” Gerard wriggles his fingers, mouth pulling into a smile. “He was a total mess and there were little paw prints all over the place.”
He can see how that would be a good name for the little guy, even if it's a mouthful.
Gerard makes a grumbling sound and sits up to watch the hamsters to make sure the crisis really is over. “He's always getting into things and poking his nose where it shouldn't be. So, you know, Rorschach.” There's a pause. “Well, that and I think he's crazy.”
It takes a moment, but Frank's brain eventually grinds into gear. “Wait.” He can't help the smile, or the laughter chasing it. “You named him after a comic book character? Really? Did you name all of them after comic book characters?” Frank doesn't stop laughing when Gerard punches his shoulder, or when Gerard pushes him over.
“Oh, fuck you,” Gerard's laughing too, though, so he's not really mad. “You probably would have named them after our songs or something.”
“Maybe,” Frank says, once he has his laughter under control, “but at least they'd have cool names.”
Gerard has to reach for it, but he gets in a good kick to Frank's leg that sets both of them off again, laughing like morons and not giving a damn who sees.
====
====
“Frank.”
“No, Mikey.” Frank picks through the bag of of wood cut-outs looking for one of the larger circles. Arts and crafts time is serious business and he's not going to let Mikey distract him. He has the framework for the drum kit done, now he just needs to put the kick drum together.
It had taken Frank a while to realize that Gerard's hamsters were tiny, furry versions of them, but when he did, it was like finally seeing the picture in one of those optical illusion pictures. He can't stop seeing it, from the hamster with fur rivaling Ray's hair, the dark-furred hamsters that seem to be allergic to sunlight, and the pissy hamster who keeps bossing all of them around.
Ray's taking it pretty well, all things considered, and Mikey doesn't seem to care, but it's Mikey, so. Gerard's another special case in that he's too busy cooing over the hamsters to notice that hey, totally freaky coincidence, he managed to get his hands on their hamster counterparts.
“He's going to kill you.” Ray's sprawled on the couch with a guitar, plucking away at a song Frank doesn't recognize, but will probably end up playing on a stage in the not too distant future. “Seriously, Frank.”
Frank's not scared of Bob.
“Frank, look at her,” Mikey says when Bunny walks by, brushing his legs and meowing in a bid for attention. Mikey's doing her one better, though, pulling out all the stops as he uses his version of Bambi eyes on Frank. “Look at her, Frank.”
“Your Jedi mind tricks won't work on me.” The fact Frank actually knows Mikey's trying to pull a Jedi mind whammy on him is so ridiculous it's not even funny. “Also, for the record? The answer is still no.”
“I don't know,” Ray says, his plunking slowing to a quiet, plink, plink, plink. “That's kind of cool, Frank.”
Ray's been pretty great for the most part, staying out of things and playing his guitar, but then there are moments like this one where he feels the need to add his two cents.
“Hey, do you take requests?” Frank asks, twisting around in his chair to look at Ray.
“I don't know, Frank,” he says, face scrunching up in a frown. “They might be lame. I can't play lame music, Frank. It goes against my moral code.”
“Whatever.” It's not like Frank wanted soothing background music or anything stupid like that.
“Come on, Frank. Give me one good reason.” Mikey has his arms crossed, completely unconcerned about the glitter sprinkled across his cheek or the fuzzy pompom stuck to the sleeve of his shirt, although he just might not know about that last bit. “Come on. One good reason.”
Frank can think of several off the top of his head, but since Mikey's being serious about this, what the hell. “Okay, for one thing, it's crazy. Just so you know.” Frank believes in being honest about these kinds of things. “For another, seriously, Mikey. Crazy.”
“People in bands start clothing lines all the time, right?” Mikey asks, leaning forward.
To be fair, though, people in bands tend to start clothing lines for people.
“The thing is, no one ever thinks about things like this.”
Frank privately thinks there's a good reason most people don't.
Mikey picks Bunny up when she walks over to see what's new and exciting on their side of the room. Mikey scratches her head for a bit before he pulls the hood of her hoodie up to show Frank the design running down the sides onto the back of her hoodie.
“Frank,” Mikey says completely seriously, “the time is now.”
Frank sighs and rubs his face, trying not to let Mikey see the smile he knows is trying to break free.
Ray's not really helping.
Ray is, in fact, a big, stinking traitor. He's playing something sad and melancholy that's clearly meant to tug at the tattered, blackened strings clinging to the remnants of Frank's cold, dead heart.
Bunny wriggles free of Mikey's hold and pads across the table, skirting their arts and crafts projects and spilled glitter to sit herself down in front of him and meow. Insistently, like Frank isn't paying the proper attention to her new ensemble.
“You realize there isn't a huge demand for pet-sized hoodies, right?”
“Gerard offered to do some designs.”
Frank's really not surprised by that little nugget of information.
Mikey's watching him with his serious face on, trying to figure out if Frank's actually sold on the idea or just playing along. “You were saying you wanted to branch out with Skeleton Crew, right?”
Ray stops playing the world's saddest song and Frank can feel everyone's eyes on him, waiting for his decision.
“What the hell, why not.” Frank's not really sure it's a brilliant business decision, but he knows they have freaky fans who would jump at the chance to torment their pets like Alicia and Mikey. “I'll have to talk to Jamia and the others to see what they have to say about it first, though.”
Mikey grins at him, one of the rare, completely happy ones, so Frank's not all that surprised when he returns it.
“Cool.”
Frank snorts and grabs for the glue and glitter. He won't be able to use it on the drum kit, not with what he has in mind, but there's a piece of paper and a pile of fuzzy pompoms screaming Ray's name.
====
====
“Your brother is trying to get me to sell pet clothing.”
Gerard's not paying attention, doodling in a sketchpad with a movie playing in the background. Something with monsters, or maybe zombies, it's hard to tell with all the blood and gore flying around. The hamsters are out in their little exercise balls, rolling around and bumping into things.
“If this is about the hoodies, I just said I'd do a few designs.”
Yeah, and Gerard's doing a terrific job convincing Frank he has absolutely nothing to do with Mikey's craziness. He's hunched down over his sketchpad sneaking little looks at him, trying to hide his stupid smirk behind his stupid hair.
“Whatever,” Frank mutters, knocking Gerard's feet off the coffee table so he can walk past.“Like I didn't already know you guys were freaks.”
“Hey,” Gerard protests, trying to trip him up with his feet. “That's not cool, Frank.”
Frank rolls his eyes and clears off a section of the couch for himself. Gerard rescues a crumpled ball of paper before it hits the floor and grudgingly makes room for Frank.
“What are you watching?”
“I'm not really sure,” Gerard says, squinting at the television screen. “A horror movie? There was a discount bin.” He points at a stack of DVD cases on the floor next to the entertainment center. “Pick something else to watch if you want.”
He would, but Gerard's television is across the room and after the day he's had, Frank thinks he's entitled to watching a D-grade horror movie or two. He wouldn't even be at Gerard's place if he hadn't felt so restless, some intangible itch under his skin that didn't stop until he was at Gerard's door.
“That has got to be the worst fake blood I've ever seen.” Frank's not a stickler for accuracy in horror movies. He doesn't ask they be based in reality, because horror movie, but it would be nice if they had fake blood that didn't look like fake blood.
“What about that thing you and Ray did?”
Frank makes a face and tries to kick Gerard, but the jerk is sitting just out of reach. “Please, that was a cinematic masterpiece compared to this,” he says, pointing at the screen where a cheerleader's running up a set of stairs to escape the guy in the mask. Classic horror movie material, completely ruined by bad fake blood.
“Uh-huh,” Gerard says, mouth pulling into a smile. “I don't think you have room to talk, Frank.”
Frank charitably doesn't bring up the million and a half photo shoots they've done in the past involving fake blood by the gallon.
“Uh-huh,” he says, mimicking Gerard. “What are you working on anyway?”
Gerard doesn't answer right away, finishing whatever he's drawing before flipping his sketchpad shut.
“Okay, so you know how I've been watching all those home improvement shows lately?”
He does. He also knows Gerard's been poking around do-it-yourself web sites because he gets calls from Bob asking why Gerard thinks Bob has opinions about drywall.
"So," Gerard says, bouncing his sketchpad on his knee. "I was thinking."
Frank waits, but either Gerard lost his train of thought or just wants to let Frank know what he's been up to lately.
"Okay," Frank says, watching one of the hamsters roll by. "It's nice to know you're keeping yourself busy. You know, not letting yourself go and everything."
Gerard tries to shove Frank's feet off the coffee table for that, like there's not enough room for both their feet. Frank, of course, can't let that slide and soon they're caught up in an epic struggle for supremacy over the coffee table.
"No, I mean," Gerard waves his hands around when they reach a stalemate, feet on their own sides of the coffee table. "I was watching this one show, and it got me thinking.”
Frank nods, watching one of Gerard's feet stealthily edging its way over to his side of the coffee table. "Uh, huh."
"I know it's ridiculous, but I want to do it."
Frank has no idea what Gerard's talking about, but if he doesn't watch it he's going to lose a few toes. "Do what?" he asks, trapping Gerard's foot against the edge of the coffee table with one of his own.
Gerard tries to pull his foot away, but Frank presses down firmly. He's not out to break Gerard's foot, he's just making a point. "Do what?"
"Well," Gerard says, trying to wriggle his foot out from under Frank's. "I have that spare room, right? So I thought, ow. I thought I could turn it into a room for the hamsters. Seriously, Frank, ow."
Frank smirks and finally lets Gerard's foot go, satisfied he's won this round. Gerard yanks his foot away and makes a show of massaging it because he's a wimp.
"Fuck you," Gerard grumbles when Frank makes a sad, sad, face at him. "I need my toes, asshole."
"Yeah? Then make sure they stay on your side,” Frank says.
He probably should have seen something like this coming, or maybe not actually seen it coming but known something like it would happen eventually. Gerard loves his stupid hamsters, to the point where he goes online looking for places that make custom habitats for them with fun toys and tunnels and other things to keep them happy. So, really, Gerard taking things a few steps further to turning an entire room into a giant hamster playground makes sense in the Bizarro World he lives in.
“Are you going to do it yourself, or get some people in to do it?” Frank finally asks, watching Gerard milking his injured toes for all they're worth.
“I was thinking of doing it myself. I was going over a few ideas earlier if you want to see them,” Gerard says, reaching for his sketchpad. He flips it open, and glances at Frank as if he's not sure Frank's interested in his grand plans for a Hamster Room.
Frank rolls his eyes because Gerard should know by now that Frank's not going to say no. “Yeah, sure. Show me what you have.”
Gerard grins at him, stupidly pleased with himself as he leans over and starts showing Frank the sketches he came up with, pointing out where the sand pit will go, and where he wants to put up some plastic tunnels for the hamsters along the back wall.
It's more than a little bit ridiculous, but Gerard's excited about the whole thing, and okay, Frank can understand that much. He can't help laughing, however, when Gerard tells him about the mural he wants to paint on one of the walls, a desert landscape so the hamsters will be able to stay in touch with their heritage.
“Oh, fuck you,” Gerard says, tipping him off the side of the couch. “Culture is important Frank.”
That just sets Frank off again, arms wrapped around his ribs while Gerard turns volume on the television up higher to drown him out.
====
====
Asking Ray and Mikey help him with the hamster photo shoot probably wasn't the brightest idea Frank's ever had. The plan is pretty simple, go to Gerard's place, take pictures of their hamster counterparts, send the pictures to Bob and wait for the freakout.
Gerard's thrilled, of course, when the three of them show up and explain what they're doing there. He wants all of them to get to know the hamsters, something that's a bit more difficult with Bob in Chicago and Brian hiding from them.
Gerard makes a high-pitched squeaking noise when he sees the miniature drum kit Frank made. Frank's known him long enough to be able to interpret the flaily hand gestures that accompany the squeaking, and nods to let Gerard know he's fine with Gerard painting the kit up to look like Bob's.
“I still can't believe he doesn't know,” Frank says, staring after him when Gerard rushes off with the drum kit held carefully in his hands. “I mean. Seriously.”
“Crazy knows crazy,” Ray says like that means anything.
“He's right you know,” Mikey says. “Why else do you think we asked you to join the band?”
Ray's setting up, taking his cameras out of their cases, doing his best not to laugh. Mikey snorts and wanders off to greet the hamsters, calling each on by their names, somehow making it seem perfectly normal for people to have pets named after comic book characters.
Frank chokes on a laugh because, really, if anyone could do that, it would be Mikey.
“Oh, hey,” Mikey stands back to let them see what caught his attention. “Rorschach is stuck in the tubes again.”
It's not as hilarious as Ray and Mikey seem to think it is because Rorschach could get hurt, which would makes Gerard sad. No one wants a sad Gerard, although that has more to do with a sad Gerard being a little heartbreaking. A sad Gerard also tends to be melodramatic as hell with a penchant for writing crappy lyrics. So.
Mikey just stands there watching as Frank opens the cage up and pulls the tube section Rorschach is stuck in apart. He has to poke and prod until the dumbass figures wriggles free, shaking himself and acting like he meant to get stuck the whole time.
Ray has to set the camera he's checking over down because he's shaking so hard from the effort of not laughing.
“Shut up, Toro. It's a hamster for god's sake. They're not that smart.”
“Right.” Mikey squeezes past him to scoop up the two dark-furred hamsters. “Even though the others seem to have mastered not getting stuck in the tubes perfectly fine.”
Frank flips them off. “Whatever. We're here to mess with Bob's head, so let's get to work on that. We'll get pictures of his hamster when Gerard's done with the kit.”
“Bob's going to kill you,” Ray says.
Mikey shrugs, transferring the dark-furred hamster to the hood of his to keep them from wandering off while he helps Frank round up the rest. It's going to be a pain to get the little guys to hold still long enough to get decent pictures, but Frank's positive it's going to be worth it.
They spend the next couple of hours taking pictures of the hamsters running around on the floor and climbing around on Gerard's furniture. Gerard's still working on the drum kit, intent on getting it as close to he can to Bob's kit as he can.
A few hours in they lose interest in the photo shoot. Mikey sits on the couch texting, the dark-furred hamsters half-asleep in his hoodie. Ray's clearly having the time of his life playing with the big, furry hamster, putting his hands in its way to form obstacles for it to clamber over.
“Hey,” Mikey doesn't look up from his texting. “Gerard showed me the plans for the Hamster Room.”
“Okay,” Frank says. “Are you going to help out?” Frank sincerely doubts Mikey's going to do any such thing with all the work involved.
Gerard's still working on preliminary sketches, and he's been spending time reading up on hamsters and their original habitats for the mural he wants to do. Actual work on the room won't start for a while, and when it does they're going to have to move all the crap he has stored in the spare room, sand down the woodwork, strip the old wallpaper off, and fill in any holes or cracks in the walls. The best part is that's just what they need to do in order to get the room ready to work on.
Mikey makes a face, his nose scrunched up. “No.” He finally sets his Sidekick down to look at Frank. “Are you sure you're going to? It's going to be a lot of work.”
Frank knows. Gerard told him all about it, which was why Frank volunteered to help in the first place. He knows Gerard's looking at the whole thing as some kind of challenge, or maybe a chance to act like a normal home owner or something. Heading down to the home improvement store, picking up supplies at the hardware store, belting on a work apron and putting on work gloves and safety goggles and shit like a normal guy with a normal life.
“Yeah,” Frank says. “I know.”
“I mean,” Mikey shrugs, looking down the hallway Gerard disappeared down. “You've got a lot of stuff going on with Skeleton Crew and Leathermouth - “
“And The Love Cats,” Ray throws out. “Don't forget The Love Cats.”
“And The Love Cats,” Mikey adds, not missing a beat. “Are you sure you're going to have time to help out with the Hamster Room on top of all that? We're on break for a reason.”
Frank knows. He really does, but he can't just sit around doing nothing. None of them can, when it comes down to it. That's why Mikey's talking about his pet clothing line, and why Frank's helping him with it. Frank's spending more time doing the things he normally doesn't have time to do, like Skeleton Crew and Leathermouth, and yes, the fucking cover band.
Which, hey, Toro doesn't get to make fun of when he's tossing around ideas for a cover band of his own.
“I know.” He doesn't get the chance to say anything else, not that he really needs to, because Gerard comes back with the drum kit.
“Sorry it took so long.” Gerard's beaming, pleased with his work, as he tells them about finding reference pictures of Bob's kit to make sure he got it right.
Frank knows it probably means something that he can't look away from Gerard, can't stop himself from smiling back, but he's not going to think too hard about it. He knows it's all tangled up with the reasons he's always been so damn fascinated with Gerard, and why he didn't have to think before offering to help Gerard with the Hamster Room.
When he finally does manage to look away, he catches Mikey staring at him with this little twist to his mouth. It turns into a smirk when Mikey sees Frank looking back at him, and there's this irritating sort of smugness to it as though Mikey knows something Frank doesn't.
====
====
Frank's not going to admit Mikey had a point about Frank's being too busy to help Gerard out with the Hamster Room, even if Mikey was right.
“...so that's what happened,” Frank says, feeding the hamster perched on his knee another sunflower seed.
It's the dark-furred one with the chaotic fur that seems to be more nocturnal than the other hamsters. It definitely doesn't seem to enjoy being awake in the mornings like the others do, wobbling around on unsteady, stubby legs whenever Frank's around that early.
He's too tired to do much more than watch the hamsters rolling around in their exercise balls. Gerard's working in the Hamster Room, trying to get it ready to paint.
The hamster on Frank's knee doesn't seem to be interested in physical activity at the moment, and Frank knows the little guy won't blab whatever he tells it.
Frank pats its head with a finger, smiling when it stands up to grab his finger in its paws. “You're not so bad, you know.”
“You're not too bad yourself.”
Frank blinks at the hamster, and makes a face. “You're an asshole.”
Gerard drops down next to him, looking tired but happy. He stinks of vinegar and god knows what else he mixed up to get the glue off the walls left behind from the wallpaper. Frank doesn't care because Gerard makes for a comfortable pillow, and he's smelled worse, so.
“What's wrong, Frank?” Gerard asks, still in that high, squeaky voice he used earlier. It doesn't work as well the second time around because the fucker's laughing too hard.
Frank elbows Gerard and shakes his head. “How do you put up with this idiot?” he asks the hamster, like he really thinks it's going to answer.
Gerard just laughs his stupid laugh while Frank pretends to ignore him. The hamster doesn't seem that
impressed with either of them. Which, yeah.
“Hey,” Gerard says when he stops laughing like a lunatic. “Long day?”
“Yeah,” Frank says, because it was. Things are rolling along great with Skeleton Crew and Mikey's new pet-clothing line, and it looks like Leathermouth might get a tour. He should be happy, excited, but he just feels tired. Drained.
Gerard makes a non-committal noise and leans back, reaching out a hand to the hamster.
Frank feels bad that he can't remember what Gerard named them because they look the same to him, tiny balls of fur. Still, he's secretly fond of the one he'd been talking to, now trying to climb up Gerard's arm. He'd like to lie to himself and say it's not because it happens to be Gerard's hamster counterpart, but he's tired even for that.
He watches the hamster give up on its mountain climbing adventure. After a few minutes it gets bored and comes back over to Frank, settling for running around on Frank's leg. He watches it with a smile, laughing when it takes experimental bites in his jeans.
Gerard's smiling, laughing at the stupid hamster when it almost falls off, and really, Frank's too tired for it, but he has another of those moments. The kind that belong in romance novels and movies and the occasional sitcom. It's not the first time he's had one of those around Gerard because it's Gerard.
This time, though, it's different. Maybe he can attribute it to being so damn tired, wrung out from everything he's doing or trying to do, barriers worn down and thinner than they've ever been. Or maybe it's just Gerard being Gerard, and Frank finally noticing, finally letting himself notice, the way Frank sees him.
“Frank? Are you listening?”
Frank blinks, pulled from his thoughts to find Gerard watching him hims with a concerned expression.
“Uh, no?”
Gerard sighs. “Come on, you need to eat something, and then you're going to bed.”
What?
“You look like you're going to fall asleep, Frank. You can stay here tonight.”
Gerard has this weird, lopsided smile, It's fond, and sweet. Kind of goofy, and oh, god, Frank has no idea what to with that right now.
“Come on. Food. Sleep. You'll feel better in the morning.”
Frank's not sure he believes that, but Gerard takes his hand to pull him up, and Frank's always had a hard time not following his lead.
====
====
Frank wakes up feeling more rested than he has in weeks. The house is quiet, the only sounds Frank can make out is the faint faint sound of traffic going by outside. He knows he should get up and see what Gerard and his hamster minions are up to, but he's feeling lazy and content.
He watches shadows on the walls of the room, tracks their passage to the ceiling and listens to traffic passing by until he catches the unmistakable scent of coffee and Gerard bumping around around in the kitchen. Frank listens a little longer, trying to ignore the feeling in the pit of his stomach, and telling himself this is okay, it's like being back on the bus again.
That only works for so long, though, and Frank's rolling out of bed, up on his feet and shuffling around getting dressed. He stumbles into the kitchen looking for coffee and Gerard. He finds the first easily enough, but the second requires a little searching.
He finds Gerard in the Hamster Room. A few of the hamsters are rolling around him like little moons, and Frank is sorry he doesn't have a camera or even just his phone on him at the moment.
“Hey,” he says, leaning against the door frame. “What's going on?”
Gerard grins over his shoulder at him. Like always, Frank's helpless against it, and then he notices the passenger on Gerard's shoulder.
“Frank! Come here and look at this,” Gerard says, scooting over to make room for him. “I'm working on ideas for the mural.”
Gerard's been working on the mural from the beginning, never satisfied with his sketches. He wants to keep it true to the hamsters' original habitat, but he can't quite decide how he wants to do that.
Looking at him, Frank could, and probably should make his excuses and leave while he still can. Before he gets to used to the way he feels at the moment, like it's just them and Gerard's hamsters. The two of them in this quiet space, no outside world. He should leave, he knows this isn't going to end well for him, but he's only human.
“Yeah, okay,” he says. “Why not?”
Part 2
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
Word Count: ~12,400
Disclaimer: Not real, and not mine.
Summary: My Chemical Romance goes on hiatus and Gerard finally gets his hamsters.
Notes: Otherwise known as hamster shenanigans fic. No, really.
Everything starts before they even go on break, just random crap in the middle of the night when none of them can sleep. The whole thing feels very slumber party to Frank, or at least what movies tell him they're like. That last might be because they're all in their bunks with the curtains open.
They're the right kind of comfortable and tired that tends to lead to things like talking about movies and playing stupid road games. He's pretty sure if Gerard wasn't so tired there'd be make-overs and hair braiding going on too. Ray's totally a sucker for Gerard's big, sad eyes, and Bob and Mikey are prime targets now they've let their hair grow out.
Ray's the one to ask, words a little hard to make out around a yawn. No one answers right away, thinking about all the things they're going to have time for now. Two years worth of time, which isn't really isn't that much in the business when it comes down to it.
Not when they'll be headed back into the studio in a few months. Not with all the interviews and other promotional stuff in between. Not when it's them.
Frank knows saying they're taking a few years off is pretty much a lie because they'll be doing something before then. Maybe a secret show here and there, or some kind of amazing opportunity they wouldn't have gotten a few years ago, and might not get again.
Bob clears his throat. “I was thinking about working on my solo project.”
That startles a laugh out of Ray, and after that it's like the floodgates opening with everyone talking about the plans they have for the break. Side projects, trips to places they've been to but never had the chance to be the pain in the ass tourist at, and best of all, down time with their families.
“I'm going to sleep for a month,” Mikey says.
Ray laughs. “Oh my god you guys. Sleep. In actual beds.”
They all take a moment to think about that.
Frank stares at the bottom of bunk above him and feels a stupid smile spreading over his face. “Showers.”
Bob snorts. Frank can't make out what he says over Gerard's indignant squawk, but it's not all that hard to figure out. Especially when Ray sides with Bob and Mikey taking Gerard's side of things. Frank stays out of by pretending he can't hear them, which, no. That's not really possible with them trying to talk over one another and laughing like idiots.
Frank grins to himself because he's going to miss the whole endless road trip thing they have going, but it's going to be nice to have the ground stay still under his feet for a while.
It doesn't occur to him until later that Gerard never said what he was going to do.
====
====
A few weeks into the break Gerard calls and leaves a message on Frank's voicemail, and Frank. Okay, Frank knows Gerard's an excitable guy. They all do. They have a system with specific levels of excitability, but Gerard's message is completely off the scale.
He's not finishing his sentences, and he's not even forming coherent words. The excited squealing sort of makes that difficult. Frank gets that, he really does. He's seen it countless times before from their fans, but this is Gerard. He can squeal and talk at the same time.
Frank hurries his ass over to Gerard's place, and isn't prepared for what he sees when he rings the doorbell.
“Uh.” Frank squints. The thing on Gerard's shoulder sits up, tiny little nose twitching. “There's - “
“I know!”
Gerard's beaming at him even though it's the middle of the night and there's a rat on his shoulder.
Frank clears his throat. “Is that a - “
“It's a hamster!” Gerard's still beaming. Frank is seriously confused.
“A hamster.”
Gerard nods, and snags the sleeve of Frank's jacket to drag him inside. The stupid little hamster on his shoulder is watching Frank with its beady, beady little eyes. Gerard doesn't let go until they're in the living room.
There are bags everywhere, and sitting in the middle of the living room is a big wire cage with even more hamsters. One's running in the little wheel. Frank's a little impressed at how damn fast the little guy's going - his tiny little feet are a blur - and the rest of the hamsters are sort of lounging around.
“I just got them today, aren't they amazing?”
Frank looks back at Gerard, and the hamster's still on his shoulder.
Watching Frank.
It's huge, or maybe that's just the totally crazy fur it has going on because he's pretty sure hamsters aren't supposed to be the size of a softball.
Gerard scoops the hamster off his shoulder and shoves it at Frank. “Hold him! He's awesome!”
Frank doesn't want to drop the stupid hamster, so he cups his hands and looks down at it when Gerard coaxes it onto Frank's hands. The little guy sniffs at his fingers, waddling around and checking things out, or whatever it is hamsters do.
Gerard's standing right next to him, and he can see Gerard's big, stupid smile at the corner of his eye.
It's not like Frank hasn't seen it a million times before, it's just. Usually when he sees it there are other people around, and this time there aren't, so it's a little different. Even if Gerard is just smiling at his stupid hamster.
“Oh, cool. He likes you,” Gerard says. Frank realizes that the thing is more fur than hamster when Gerard leans in to pet it, and his fingers go through a million feet of fur before actually touching hamster.
Frank shakes his head and tries to hand the hamster back, but Gerard turns and heads over to the big cage.
“Come over here and meet the rest of them,” Gerard says. Like they're at a party and he wants Frank to meet the other guests.
Gerard waves him over, and Frank goes because it's not as though he has anything better to do.
There are two more hamsters sitting at the mouth of a little plastic cave at the bottom of the cage. When Gerard reaches in they come out to see what all the fuss is about, little noses twitching. They're falling over one another, just a ball of fur and legs and twitchy noses.
The new hamsters have the same coloring, and one's kind of scrawny. They look like they might be the same breed, but it's not like Frank's a hamster expert or anything.
“They were the last ones of their litter left, and I couldn't separate them,” Gerard says with a helpless smile.
Frank rolls his eyes and cranes his neck to get a look at the big one with really light fur. It's sitting by itself on a platform near the top of the cage while the other one runs its little heart out in the wheel.
“Did you name them yet?” Frank asks, looking down at the hamster in his hand when it nibbles on his thumb.
Gerard shakes his head and pets the little dark-furred hamsters on their heads. “Not yet. I want to make sure their names fit.”
Frank frowns at that, but doesn't say anything. He's sure what Gerard means he wants their names to fit them, or he just hasn't come up with anything suitably dorky for them yet. That's not a problem, though, because Frank's more worried about what the hamster he's holding is doing. It's almost like the thing is doing taste-testing or something, nibbling and licking his fingers or hand and moving on. Like it's hoping to find something to suit it's palate, and that's actually a disturbing thought.
“Hey,” Frank says, carefully jiggling his hands when the hamster bites a little too hard for his peace of mind. “Hey, hamsters are herbivores, right?” Frank hopes they are, anyway when the hamster in his hands yawn and he gets a look at its teeth.
Gerard's crouched in front of the cage, watching the other hamsters so he isn't looking at Frank, which is probably a good thing. He doesn't want to have to kill Gerard for laughing at him because Frank's maybe, maybe worried about a tiny ball of fluff that fits in the palm of his hand.
“What?”
Frank eyes the hamster warily because it's staring at him again, and really. It's just a hamster, but he really doesn't like the way it's looking at him.
“Herbivore, right?” Frank asks, holding the hamster out.
Gerard frowns. “No, they're omnivores.” And then, as if that's not worrying enough, “There's this theory that feeding them meat encourages adult hamster to cannibalize their young. Awesome, huh?”
Frank looks down at the hamster sniffing at his fingers. “Yeah. Awesome.”
“I mean. Okay,” Gerard says. “It's not awesome in the they eat their own babies way, just. You know, fascinating.”
Frank wouldn't put it like that, but whatever. Good to know ahead of time Gerard's gotten himself a pack of potentially cannibalistic furballs as pets.
Gerard snorts and takes the hamster Frank's still holding from him, carefully setting it back in the cage with the rest of the hamsters.
“That normally only happens with mothers and their offspring, and it's not like they just wake up one day and go 'Mmmm, my babies would be delicious!' or anything. It's a survival mechanism when there isn't enough food for all the babies and they'd die anyway.” Gerard pauses. “Or, you know, stress.”
Frank stares at him. “You almost had me sold on the whole cannibalism thing not being weird and creepy. It must be nice to know if your mom's had a shitty day she might kill and eat you.”
Gerard rolls his eyes and sits down in front of the cage, watching his weird, creepy pets. After a moment Frank sits down next to him.
“So why now?” Frank asks, glancing at the hamster cage when a scuffle breaks out between the big sand-colored hamster and the little guy who was on the wheel.
Gerard doesn't answer right away. He's watching the hamsters, sitting up in case he's going to have to separate the two hamsters or something, Frank doesn't know. It's pretty obvious the hamsters are play-fighting even though the big one could probably do some damage if it really wanted to.
“I'm not sure,” Gerard mumbles, trying to disappear in his hoodie. “I guess it was one of those things that seemed like a good idea at the time?”
Right. Frank's not really buying that, not when 'the time' was a few hours ago, and Gerard's watching his hamsters with this. This look on his face. Like their tiny, furry little faces are the most amazing things he's ever seen in his entire life.
Frank shakes his head and bumps Gerard's shoulder with his own. Gerard smiles and bumps back, leaning against Frank to watch his hamsters.
====
====
The next time Frank comes over to see Gerard it's because Gerard has acquired two new hamsters and he's worried there's going to be a fight.
“Seriously?” Frank's looking at the hamsters, taking stock of the way the original five are pretty much in their own world.
Gerard shrugs, then fidgets and looks like he's only a few steps away from wringing his hands with worry. “This is serious, Frank. They could fight to the death!”
Gerard sounds strangely excited about that possibility even though Frank knows he'd be heartbroken if it actually happened. He'd probably freak the hell out too, not that Frank would blame him for that.
“Maybe you shouldn't put them together,” Frank says. “I mean if it's going to be a bloodbath or whatever.”
“They're all young enough that this should work.” Gerard still looks worried.
Frank might not be overly invested in the goings on of hamsters, but the little guys mean a lot to Gerard, and he doesn't want to be witness to a hamster deathmatch. “Are you sure about this?”
Gerard shrugs, but he's so worked up about the whole hamster situation that it looks more like a nervous twitch. “Yes?”
Frank sighs and shoves Gerard over, moving so that he's in front of the two cages.
Thanks to Gerard spouting bits of hamster trivia at random moments Frank knows the hamsters probably can't even see him. Maybe he's just a big blur to them or whatever, but it's still a little disconcerting the way they seem to be watching him.
“So what, I just dump them in?”
Gerard makes a horrified face and pushes Frank aside. ”Oh my god. Move over, move over.”
Sitting back to watch Gerard introducing the new hamsters to his original bunch, Frank tries - he really does - not to smirk, but it's a little difficult.
Especially when the smaller hamster sort of glares at Gerard. Well, okay. It doesn't glare so much as stare at him like it doesn't think it wants Gerard being responsible for its well-being.
“Oh, this is awesome,” Frank says, scooting forward when the little guy stands up on his hind legs and gives Gerard this squinty-eyed look of hamsterish disdain. “Where did you find these guys?”
Gerard scowls and nudges the pissy hamster, trying to get it moving. “Shut up, Frank.”
“No, no. Really, this is awesome.” Frank is starting to get why Gerard's so fascinated with his stupid hamsters. They're like tiny people, only really, really not.
Frank hasn't really spent any time getting to know them or anything, it's not like he's buddies with the stupid things, but he can understand why Gerard likes them. They're tiny and adorable and it's hilarious watching them walk around on their stubby legs.
“Did you name them yet?”
Gerard's still watching the hamsters, gnawing on his bottom lip, and from the way his hands are twitching it's only a matter of time before he starts biting his fingernails.
“Hey,” Frank grabs Gerard's hand on its way to his mouth and tugs him back against the couch, giving the hamsters a little more room and forcing Gerard to look away. “Hey, did you name them yet?”
Gerard makes this face at him, part frown part something else and leans against Frank, his stupid feet getting tangled with Frank's. “Sort of,” he mumbles through a yawn. “That little one's Rorschach.”
Frank follows where Gerard's pointing to where the manic little hamster is in some sort of stand-off with the new hamsters. He's hunkered down like he's expecting a fight, which is ridiculous because the other hamsters don't seem to be paying any attention to him. They keep walking around him to sniff curiously at the new hamsters.
Frank relaxes when one the two dark-furred hamsters get him to back down by plopping themselves down on either side of him and using him as a pillow, which is some kind of signal to the others that things are fine in Hamsterland.
“That's kind of a big name for him, don't you think?”
Gerard shrugs, turning his head to dig his chin into Frank's shoulder. “I left some paint out the other day when I went to answer the phone, and when I came back out he was covered in it.” Gerard wriggles his fingers, mouth pulling into a smile. “He was a total mess and there were little paw prints all over the place.”
He can see how that would be a good name for the little guy, even if it's a mouthful.
Gerard makes a grumbling sound and sits up to watch the hamsters to make sure the crisis really is over. “He's always getting into things and poking his nose where it shouldn't be. So, you know, Rorschach.” There's a pause. “Well, that and I think he's crazy.”
It takes a moment, but Frank's brain eventually grinds into gear. “Wait.” He can't help the smile, or the laughter chasing it. “You named him after a comic book character? Really? Did you name all of them after comic book characters?” Frank doesn't stop laughing when Gerard punches his shoulder, or when Gerard pushes him over.
“Oh, fuck you,” Gerard's laughing too, though, so he's not really mad. “You probably would have named them after our songs or something.”
“Maybe,” Frank says, once he has his laughter under control, “but at least they'd have cool names.”
Gerard has to reach for it, but he gets in a good kick to Frank's leg that sets both of them off again, laughing like morons and not giving a damn who sees.
====
====
“Frank.”
“No, Mikey.” Frank picks through the bag of of wood cut-outs looking for one of the larger circles. Arts and crafts time is serious business and he's not going to let Mikey distract him. He has the framework for the drum kit done, now he just needs to put the kick drum together.
It had taken Frank a while to realize that Gerard's hamsters were tiny, furry versions of them, but when he did, it was like finally seeing the picture in one of those optical illusion pictures. He can't stop seeing it, from the hamster with fur rivaling Ray's hair, the dark-furred hamsters that seem to be allergic to sunlight, and the pissy hamster who keeps bossing all of them around.
Ray's taking it pretty well, all things considered, and Mikey doesn't seem to care, but it's Mikey, so. Gerard's another special case in that he's too busy cooing over the hamsters to notice that hey, totally freaky coincidence, he managed to get his hands on their hamster counterparts.
“He's going to kill you.” Ray's sprawled on the couch with a guitar, plucking away at a song Frank doesn't recognize, but will probably end up playing on a stage in the not too distant future. “Seriously, Frank.”
Frank's not scared of Bob.
“Frank, look at her,” Mikey says when Bunny walks by, brushing his legs and meowing in a bid for attention. Mikey's doing her one better, though, pulling out all the stops as he uses his version of Bambi eyes on Frank. “Look at her, Frank.”
“Your Jedi mind tricks won't work on me.” The fact Frank actually knows Mikey's trying to pull a Jedi mind whammy on him is so ridiculous it's not even funny. “Also, for the record? The answer is still no.”
“I don't know,” Ray says, his plunking slowing to a quiet, plink, plink, plink. “That's kind of cool, Frank.”
Ray's been pretty great for the most part, staying out of things and playing his guitar, but then there are moments like this one where he feels the need to add his two cents.
“Hey, do you take requests?” Frank asks, twisting around in his chair to look at Ray.
“I don't know, Frank,” he says, face scrunching up in a frown. “They might be lame. I can't play lame music, Frank. It goes against my moral code.”
“Whatever.” It's not like Frank wanted soothing background music or anything stupid like that.
“Come on, Frank. Give me one good reason.” Mikey has his arms crossed, completely unconcerned about the glitter sprinkled across his cheek or the fuzzy pompom stuck to the sleeve of his shirt, although he just might not know about that last bit. “Come on. One good reason.”
Frank can think of several off the top of his head, but since Mikey's being serious about this, what the hell. “Okay, for one thing, it's crazy. Just so you know.” Frank believes in being honest about these kinds of things. “For another, seriously, Mikey. Crazy.”
“People in bands start clothing lines all the time, right?” Mikey asks, leaning forward.
To be fair, though, people in bands tend to start clothing lines for people.
“The thing is, no one ever thinks about things like this.”
Frank privately thinks there's a good reason most people don't.
Mikey picks Bunny up when she walks over to see what's new and exciting on their side of the room. Mikey scratches her head for a bit before he pulls the hood of her hoodie up to show Frank the design running down the sides onto the back of her hoodie.
“Frank,” Mikey says completely seriously, “the time is now.”
Frank sighs and rubs his face, trying not to let Mikey see the smile he knows is trying to break free.
Ray's not really helping.
Ray is, in fact, a big, stinking traitor. He's playing something sad and melancholy that's clearly meant to tug at the tattered, blackened strings clinging to the remnants of Frank's cold, dead heart.
Bunny wriggles free of Mikey's hold and pads across the table, skirting their arts and crafts projects and spilled glitter to sit herself down in front of him and meow. Insistently, like Frank isn't paying the proper attention to her new ensemble.
“You realize there isn't a huge demand for pet-sized hoodies, right?”
“Gerard offered to do some designs.”
Frank's really not surprised by that little nugget of information.
Mikey's watching him with his serious face on, trying to figure out if Frank's actually sold on the idea or just playing along. “You were saying you wanted to branch out with Skeleton Crew, right?”
Ray stops playing the world's saddest song and Frank can feel everyone's eyes on him, waiting for his decision.
“What the hell, why not.” Frank's not really sure it's a brilliant business decision, but he knows they have freaky fans who would jump at the chance to torment their pets like Alicia and Mikey. “I'll have to talk to Jamia and the others to see what they have to say about it first, though.”
Mikey grins at him, one of the rare, completely happy ones, so Frank's not all that surprised when he returns it.
“Cool.”
Frank snorts and grabs for the glue and glitter. He won't be able to use it on the drum kit, not with what he has in mind, but there's a piece of paper and a pile of fuzzy pompoms screaming Ray's name.
====
====
“Your brother is trying to get me to sell pet clothing.”
Gerard's not paying attention, doodling in a sketchpad with a movie playing in the background. Something with monsters, or maybe zombies, it's hard to tell with all the blood and gore flying around. The hamsters are out in their little exercise balls, rolling around and bumping into things.
“If this is about the hoodies, I just said I'd do a few designs.”
Yeah, and Gerard's doing a terrific job convincing Frank he has absolutely nothing to do with Mikey's craziness. He's hunched down over his sketchpad sneaking little looks at him, trying to hide his stupid smirk behind his stupid hair.
“Whatever,” Frank mutters, knocking Gerard's feet off the coffee table so he can walk past.“Like I didn't already know you guys were freaks.”
“Hey,” Gerard protests, trying to trip him up with his feet. “That's not cool, Frank.”
Frank rolls his eyes and clears off a section of the couch for himself. Gerard rescues a crumpled ball of paper before it hits the floor and grudgingly makes room for Frank.
“What are you watching?”
“I'm not really sure,” Gerard says, squinting at the television screen. “A horror movie? There was a discount bin.” He points at a stack of DVD cases on the floor next to the entertainment center. “Pick something else to watch if you want.”
He would, but Gerard's television is across the room and after the day he's had, Frank thinks he's entitled to watching a D-grade horror movie or two. He wouldn't even be at Gerard's place if he hadn't felt so restless, some intangible itch under his skin that didn't stop until he was at Gerard's door.
“That has got to be the worst fake blood I've ever seen.” Frank's not a stickler for accuracy in horror movies. He doesn't ask they be based in reality, because horror movie, but it would be nice if they had fake blood that didn't look like fake blood.
“What about that thing you and Ray did?”
Frank makes a face and tries to kick Gerard, but the jerk is sitting just out of reach. “Please, that was a cinematic masterpiece compared to this,” he says, pointing at the screen where a cheerleader's running up a set of stairs to escape the guy in the mask. Classic horror movie material, completely ruined by bad fake blood.
“Uh-huh,” Gerard says, mouth pulling into a smile. “I don't think you have room to talk, Frank.”
Frank charitably doesn't bring up the million and a half photo shoots they've done in the past involving fake blood by the gallon.
“Uh-huh,” he says, mimicking Gerard. “What are you working on anyway?”
Gerard doesn't answer right away, finishing whatever he's drawing before flipping his sketchpad shut.
“Okay, so you know how I've been watching all those home improvement shows lately?”
He does. He also knows Gerard's been poking around do-it-yourself web sites because he gets calls from Bob asking why Gerard thinks Bob has opinions about drywall.
"So," Gerard says, bouncing his sketchpad on his knee. "I was thinking."
Frank waits, but either Gerard lost his train of thought or just wants to let Frank know what he's been up to lately.
"Okay," Frank says, watching one of the hamsters roll by. "It's nice to know you're keeping yourself busy. You know, not letting yourself go and everything."
Gerard tries to shove Frank's feet off the coffee table for that, like there's not enough room for both their feet. Frank, of course, can't let that slide and soon they're caught up in an epic struggle for supremacy over the coffee table.
"No, I mean," Gerard waves his hands around when they reach a stalemate, feet on their own sides of the coffee table. "I was watching this one show, and it got me thinking.”
Frank nods, watching one of Gerard's feet stealthily edging its way over to his side of the coffee table. "Uh, huh."
"I know it's ridiculous, but I want to do it."
Frank has no idea what Gerard's talking about, but if he doesn't watch it he's going to lose a few toes. "Do what?" he asks, trapping Gerard's foot against the edge of the coffee table with one of his own.
Gerard tries to pull his foot away, but Frank presses down firmly. He's not out to break Gerard's foot, he's just making a point. "Do what?"
"Well," Gerard says, trying to wriggle his foot out from under Frank's. "I have that spare room, right? So I thought, ow. I thought I could turn it into a room for the hamsters. Seriously, Frank, ow."
Frank smirks and finally lets Gerard's foot go, satisfied he's won this round. Gerard yanks his foot away and makes a show of massaging it because he's a wimp.
"Fuck you," Gerard grumbles when Frank makes a sad, sad, face at him. "I need my toes, asshole."
"Yeah? Then make sure they stay on your side,” Frank says.
He probably should have seen something like this coming, or maybe not actually seen it coming but known something like it would happen eventually. Gerard loves his stupid hamsters, to the point where he goes online looking for places that make custom habitats for them with fun toys and tunnels and other things to keep them happy. So, really, Gerard taking things a few steps further to turning an entire room into a giant hamster playground makes sense in the Bizarro World he lives in.
“Are you going to do it yourself, or get some people in to do it?” Frank finally asks, watching Gerard milking his injured toes for all they're worth.
“I was thinking of doing it myself. I was going over a few ideas earlier if you want to see them,” Gerard says, reaching for his sketchpad. He flips it open, and glances at Frank as if he's not sure Frank's interested in his grand plans for a Hamster Room.
Frank rolls his eyes because Gerard should know by now that Frank's not going to say no. “Yeah, sure. Show me what you have.”
Gerard grins at him, stupidly pleased with himself as he leans over and starts showing Frank the sketches he came up with, pointing out where the sand pit will go, and where he wants to put up some plastic tunnels for the hamsters along the back wall.
It's more than a little bit ridiculous, but Gerard's excited about the whole thing, and okay, Frank can understand that much. He can't help laughing, however, when Gerard tells him about the mural he wants to paint on one of the walls, a desert landscape so the hamsters will be able to stay in touch with their heritage.
“Oh, fuck you,” Gerard says, tipping him off the side of the couch. “Culture is important Frank.”
That just sets Frank off again, arms wrapped around his ribs while Gerard turns volume on the television up higher to drown him out.
====
====
Asking Ray and Mikey help him with the hamster photo shoot probably wasn't the brightest idea Frank's ever had. The plan is pretty simple, go to Gerard's place, take pictures of their hamster counterparts, send the pictures to Bob and wait for the freakout.
Gerard's thrilled, of course, when the three of them show up and explain what they're doing there. He wants all of them to get to know the hamsters, something that's a bit more difficult with Bob in Chicago and Brian hiding from them.
Gerard makes a high-pitched squeaking noise when he sees the miniature drum kit Frank made. Frank's known him long enough to be able to interpret the flaily hand gestures that accompany the squeaking, and nods to let Gerard know he's fine with Gerard painting the kit up to look like Bob's.
“I still can't believe he doesn't know,” Frank says, staring after him when Gerard rushes off with the drum kit held carefully in his hands. “I mean. Seriously.”
“Crazy knows crazy,” Ray says like that means anything.
“He's right you know,” Mikey says. “Why else do you think we asked you to join the band?”
Ray's setting up, taking his cameras out of their cases, doing his best not to laugh. Mikey snorts and wanders off to greet the hamsters, calling each on by their names, somehow making it seem perfectly normal for people to have pets named after comic book characters.
Frank chokes on a laugh because, really, if anyone could do that, it would be Mikey.
“Oh, hey,” Mikey stands back to let them see what caught his attention. “Rorschach is stuck in the tubes again.”
It's not as hilarious as Ray and Mikey seem to think it is because Rorschach could get hurt, which would makes Gerard sad. No one wants a sad Gerard, although that has more to do with a sad Gerard being a little heartbreaking. A sad Gerard also tends to be melodramatic as hell with a penchant for writing crappy lyrics. So.
Mikey just stands there watching as Frank opens the cage up and pulls the tube section Rorschach is stuck in apart. He has to poke and prod until the dumbass figures wriggles free, shaking himself and acting like he meant to get stuck the whole time.
Ray has to set the camera he's checking over down because he's shaking so hard from the effort of not laughing.
“Shut up, Toro. It's a hamster for god's sake. They're not that smart.”
“Right.” Mikey squeezes past him to scoop up the two dark-furred hamsters. “Even though the others seem to have mastered not getting stuck in the tubes perfectly fine.”
Frank flips them off. “Whatever. We're here to mess with Bob's head, so let's get to work on that. We'll get pictures of his hamster when Gerard's done with the kit.”
“Bob's going to kill you,” Ray says.
Mikey shrugs, transferring the dark-furred hamster to the hood of his to keep them from wandering off while he helps Frank round up the rest. It's going to be a pain to get the little guys to hold still long enough to get decent pictures, but Frank's positive it's going to be worth it.
They spend the next couple of hours taking pictures of the hamsters running around on the floor and climbing around on Gerard's furniture. Gerard's still working on the drum kit, intent on getting it as close to he can to Bob's kit as he can.
A few hours in they lose interest in the photo shoot. Mikey sits on the couch texting, the dark-furred hamsters half-asleep in his hoodie. Ray's clearly having the time of his life playing with the big, furry hamster, putting his hands in its way to form obstacles for it to clamber over.
“Hey,” Mikey doesn't look up from his texting. “Gerard showed me the plans for the Hamster Room.”
“Okay,” Frank says. “Are you going to help out?” Frank sincerely doubts Mikey's going to do any such thing with all the work involved.
Gerard's still working on preliminary sketches, and he's been spending time reading up on hamsters and their original habitats for the mural he wants to do. Actual work on the room won't start for a while, and when it does they're going to have to move all the crap he has stored in the spare room, sand down the woodwork, strip the old wallpaper off, and fill in any holes or cracks in the walls. The best part is that's just what they need to do in order to get the room ready to work on.
Mikey makes a face, his nose scrunched up. “No.” He finally sets his Sidekick down to look at Frank. “Are you sure you're going to? It's going to be a lot of work.”
Frank knows. Gerard told him all about it, which was why Frank volunteered to help in the first place. He knows Gerard's looking at the whole thing as some kind of challenge, or maybe a chance to act like a normal home owner or something. Heading down to the home improvement store, picking up supplies at the hardware store, belting on a work apron and putting on work gloves and safety goggles and shit like a normal guy with a normal life.
“Yeah,” Frank says. “I know.”
“I mean,” Mikey shrugs, looking down the hallway Gerard disappeared down. “You've got a lot of stuff going on with Skeleton Crew and Leathermouth - “
“And The Love Cats,” Ray throws out. “Don't forget The Love Cats.”
“And The Love Cats,” Mikey adds, not missing a beat. “Are you sure you're going to have time to help out with the Hamster Room on top of all that? We're on break for a reason.”
Frank knows. He really does, but he can't just sit around doing nothing. None of them can, when it comes down to it. That's why Mikey's talking about his pet clothing line, and why Frank's helping him with it. Frank's spending more time doing the things he normally doesn't have time to do, like Skeleton Crew and Leathermouth, and yes, the fucking cover band.
Which, hey, Toro doesn't get to make fun of when he's tossing around ideas for a cover band of his own.
“I know.” He doesn't get the chance to say anything else, not that he really needs to, because Gerard comes back with the drum kit.
“Sorry it took so long.” Gerard's beaming, pleased with his work, as he tells them about finding reference pictures of Bob's kit to make sure he got it right.
Frank knows it probably means something that he can't look away from Gerard, can't stop himself from smiling back, but he's not going to think too hard about it. He knows it's all tangled up with the reasons he's always been so damn fascinated with Gerard, and why he didn't have to think before offering to help Gerard with the Hamster Room.
When he finally does manage to look away, he catches Mikey staring at him with this little twist to his mouth. It turns into a smirk when Mikey sees Frank looking back at him, and there's this irritating sort of smugness to it as though Mikey knows something Frank doesn't.
====
====
Frank's not going to admit Mikey had a point about Frank's being too busy to help Gerard out with the Hamster Room, even if Mikey was right.
“...so that's what happened,” Frank says, feeding the hamster perched on his knee another sunflower seed.
It's the dark-furred one with the chaotic fur that seems to be more nocturnal than the other hamsters. It definitely doesn't seem to enjoy being awake in the mornings like the others do, wobbling around on unsteady, stubby legs whenever Frank's around that early.
He's too tired to do much more than watch the hamsters rolling around in their exercise balls. Gerard's working in the Hamster Room, trying to get it ready to paint.
The hamster on Frank's knee doesn't seem to be interested in physical activity at the moment, and Frank knows the little guy won't blab whatever he tells it.
Frank pats its head with a finger, smiling when it stands up to grab his finger in its paws. “You're not so bad, you know.”
“You're not too bad yourself.”
Frank blinks at the hamster, and makes a face. “You're an asshole.”
Gerard drops down next to him, looking tired but happy. He stinks of vinegar and god knows what else he mixed up to get the glue off the walls left behind from the wallpaper. Frank doesn't care because Gerard makes for a comfortable pillow, and he's smelled worse, so.
“What's wrong, Frank?” Gerard asks, still in that high, squeaky voice he used earlier. It doesn't work as well the second time around because the fucker's laughing too hard.
Frank elbows Gerard and shakes his head. “How do you put up with this idiot?” he asks the hamster, like he really thinks it's going to answer.
Gerard just laughs his stupid laugh while Frank pretends to ignore him. The hamster doesn't seem that
impressed with either of them. Which, yeah.
“Hey,” Gerard says when he stops laughing like a lunatic. “Long day?”
“Yeah,” Frank says, because it was. Things are rolling along great with Skeleton Crew and Mikey's new pet-clothing line, and it looks like Leathermouth might get a tour. He should be happy, excited, but he just feels tired. Drained.
Gerard makes a non-committal noise and leans back, reaching out a hand to the hamster.
Frank feels bad that he can't remember what Gerard named them because they look the same to him, tiny balls of fur. Still, he's secretly fond of the one he'd been talking to, now trying to climb up Gerard's arm. He'd like to lie to himself and say it's not because it happens to be Gerard's hamster counterpart, but he's tired even for that.
He watches the hamster give up on its mountain climbing adventure. After a few minutes it gets bored and comes back over to Frank, settling for running around on Frank's leg. He watches it with a smile, laughing when it takes experimental bites in his jeans.
Gerard's smiling, laughing at the stupid hamster when it almost falls off, and really, Frank's too tired for it, but he has another of those moments. The kind that belong in romance novels and movies and the occasional sitcom. It's not the first time he's had one of those around Gerard because it's Gerard.
This time, though, it's different. Maybe he can attribute it to being so damn tired, wrung out from everything he's doing or trying to do, barriers worn down and thinner than they've ever been. Or maybe it's just Gerard being Gerard, and Frank finally noticing, finally letting himself notice, the way Frank sees him.
“Frank? Are you listening?”
Frank blinks, pulled from his thoughts to find Gerard watching him hims with a concerned expression.
“Uh, no?”
Gerard sighs. “Come on, you need to eat something, and then you're going to bed.”
What?
“You look like you're going to fall asleep, Frank. You can stay here tonight.”
Gerard has this weird, lopsided smile, It's fond, and sweet. Kind of goofy, and oh, god, Frank has no idea what to with that right now.
“Come on. Food. Sleep. You'll feel better in the morning.”
Frank's not sure he believes that, but Gerard takes his hand to pull him up, and Frank's always had a hard time not following his lead.
====
====
Frank wakes up feeling more rested than he has in weeks. The house is quiet, the only sounds Frank can make out is the faint faint sound of traffic going by outside. He knows he should get up and see what Gerard and his hamster minions are up to, but he's feeling lazy and content.
He watches shadows on the walls of the room, tracks their passage to the ceiling and listens to traffic passing by until he catches the unmistakable scent of coffee and Gerard bumping around around in the kitchen. Frank listens a little longer, trying to ignore the feeling in the pit of his stomach, and telling himself this is okay, it's like being back on the bus again.
That only works for so long, though, and Frank's rolling out of bed, up on his feet and shuffling around getting dressed. He stumbles into the kitchen looking for coffee and Gerard. He finds the first easily enough, but the second requires a little searching.
He finds Gerard in the Hamster Room. A few of the hamsters are rolling around him like little moons, and Frank is sorry he doesn't have a camera or even just his phone on him at the moment.
“Hey,” he says, leaning against the door frame. “What's going on?”
Gerard grins over his shoulder at him. Like always, Frank's helpless against it, and then he notices the passenger on Gerard's shoulder.
“Frank! Come here and look at this,” Gerard says, scooting over to make room for him. “I'm working on ideas for the mural.”
Gerard's been working on the mural from the beginning, never satisfied with his sketches. He wants to keep it true to the hamsters' original habitat, but he can't quite decide how he wants to do that.
Looking at him, Frank could, and probably should make his excuses and leave while he still can. Before he gets to used to the way he feels at the moment, like it's just them and Gerard's hamsters. The two of them in this quiet space, no outside world. He should leave, he knows this isn't going to end well for him, but he's only human.
“Yeah, okay,” he says. “Why not?”
Part 2