(no subject)

[wordslinging]

Title: In Which Gerard Is a Quirky College Professor and Frank Is the Best TA Ever, 2/3
Fandom: Bandom AU, primarily MCR but cameos from others.
Rating: R
Summary: ...It's all there in the title, really, except to tell you that it's the fault of this photoshoot, and that inspiration/enabling was provided by blondiusmaximus
Notes: This turned into the chapter of "I'm trying to get them to have sex, but they won't stop talking". It's long and dialogue-heavy, but there's payoff at the end. Thanks to everyone who left feedback on the first part, as well, since I flaked out and didn't comment back to everyone. >.>


October's drawing to a close, and Frank is still making periodic attempts to get Gerard to come out with him. Well, him and his friends. There's always the 'and some friends' bit, which leaves Gerard unsure as to whether Frank's possibly interested in him or just feels like Gerard needs to be encouraged to have a social life as some kind of public service.

Gerard hasn't had many friends who've tried to get him to go out with them, at least not so determinedly. Mikey's mostly given up on him, especially since he started seeing Alicia--which is fine with Gerard, who's not wild about the idea of being a third wheel on his little brother's dates. His best friend among the rest of the faculty is Ray Toro, who he went to high school with, but Ray teaches music theory at the undergrad level and thus spends most of his time at the other end of campus from Gerard, besides being as much of a hermit outside of work as Gerard himself is.

Frank finally plays the 'I am a kickass TA and you owe me one' card, which Gerard cannot object to, and they end at one of Bob's band's shows together.

Bob's band consists of Bob on drums, Jon Walker who lives next door to Bob and Frank on bass, Vicky who went to high school with Jon on keytar (not keyboard but keytar, which is kind of ridiculous but also kind of awesome), and Vicky's friend Patrick on guitar and vocals. They're good--not quit-your-dayjob-good, but they sound like maybe they could be that good if they all committed enough to the music (which is unlikely to happen, according to Frank, because Bob and Patrick are both trying to earn degrees and Vicky's modeling on the side of her music is starting to shift toward music on the side of her modeling).

It's not throw-yourself-around-the-room-and-stage-dive music, which, while it means that Gerard doesn't get to see Frank in a mosh pit, also means he doesn't have Frank trying to drag him into a mosh pit. For the most part, they're hanging out on the sidelines occasionally talking to people Frank knows. Frank seems to know a lot of people, and so far, at least a third of them have outright asked if he and Gerard are here on a date, and another few have implied it, and Gerard's fairly sure he's blushing by this point. Frank looks a little flushed himself, but that could just be the lighting and the fact that the room's kind of hot. Or it could be embarrassment at having people think he'd date Gerard.

Maybe Gerard ought to go get another drink.

"I'm going to go get another drink," he tells Frank, having to get far too close to make himself heard. "You want anything?"

Frank holds up his current drink, which is still almost half-full. "Thanks, but I'm good."

The bar is crowded, and Gerard nearly has to shout to make himself heard, but it's blessedly free of people implying that he and Frank are a couple.

"Professor Way?"

--Well, fuck. Gerard braces himself, turns, and has to hold back a wince when he sees who it is.

"Ryan. Spencer. How're you both?"

"We're fine," It's Spencer who speaks, because Ryan is just sort of staring at Gerard. "Er. How are you?"

"Fine!" Gerard replies, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. Conversation. He should make conversation with them. About something that's not class-related. He has a vague idea that that's what professors do when they encounter their students in social settings. "This band's pretty good."

Spencer smiles, which is kind of beautiful, not in a problematic way like Frank's smile, but in a way that makes Gerard want to draw him, or maybe just hug him and give him cookies. "Yeah, they are. We come to a lot of their shows."

"I've never seen them before," Gerard says. Okay, this conversation thing isn't so bad. "A friend brought me."

"Yeah?" Ryan looks interested at that, like professors having friends is some kind of novel concept.

And because this is Gerard's life, and the universe apparently wants to remind him that there are reasons he doesn't go out on weekends, Frank picks that moment to materialize out of the crowd at Gerard's shoulder.

"There you are. So, the set's almost finished, and the whole band usually goes somewhere quieter for coffee or something after, if you want to--oh hey, Ryan and Spencer," he finishes, eyes going wide for a moment as he spots the two boys.

"Frank," Ryan says, one corner of his mouth starting to curve up in a smirk. "Hi."

"Hi," Spencer echoes, after a moment of looking stunned. He darts a glance at Ryan, then tugs at his sleeve. "We should, um, go. Nice seeing you two!"

"See you Monday," Frank responds half-heartedly as Spencer and Ryan disappear into the crowd. Gerard just waits until they're out of sight, then facepalms.

"Frank."

"Yeah?"

"Spencer and Ryan think we're dating now, don't they?"

Frank grins sheepishly. "I kind of got that impression, yeah."

"You realize they're going to tell Brendon Urie?" Gerard continues.

"Which means everyone taking the course will have heard it by Wednesday at the latest?" Frank finishes.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry?" Frank offers, even though he looks like he's fighting back laughter.

Gerard laughs, because what else is he going to do?, and looks over at Frank. "So. You were saying something about coffee and less noise?"

Frank brightens. "Sure, if you want. I usually meet Bob and everyone by the stage door."

They end up at a small, atmospherically-dimly-lit place where they commandeer a small circle of sofas and armchairs. The band talks about how the show went, occasionally asking Frank or Gerard for an audience member's perspective, and no one says or implies anything embarrassing. Well, okay, Bob and Jon do exchange a look when Frank and Gerard end up on the same small couch together, but not enough of one to make Gerard move when the couch is comfy and Frank's knee is brushing his thigh.

The conversation gradually shifts from the show to more general things, and eventually Vicky leans forward and smiles at Gerard. "So, are we scaring you off, are are you coming out with us again next week?"

"Next week?" Gerard thinks. Next week is-- "Are you guys doing a Halloween show or something?"

Vicky looks over at Frank, scandalized. "You didn't tell him? Patrick, hit him for me, would you?"

Patrick, who's in the chair closest to Frank and Gerard's sofa, punches Frank's shoulder lightly, then says to Gerard, "Halloween's his birthday."

"Hey, I was gonna tell him!" Frank protests, then looks over at Gerard. "The place we were tonight usually throws a pretty awesome party. And if I convince the bartender it actually is my birthday and I'm not just saying that, I sometimes get a free drink out of it. So, yeah, if you want to come..."

Gerard should really say he can't make it, or something. He should really not, in any way, encourage anyone to think that he and Frank are going out.

And Frank should stop looking at him like that, so that Gerard can think of a good excuse for not being able to make it.

"Maybe," is apparently the closest he can come to a refusal.

Frank does his best to track significant glances and/or whispers and/or note-passing in class Monday. There's pleasantly little of them, and what there is might not have anything to do with last weekend--Gerard's just the sort of professor who gets looks and whispers exchanged about him. The students can see as well as Frank can, after all.

After class, he makes some excuse to Gerard and weaves his way into the mass of exiting students. Spencer's probably his best bet at reasonableness, and for once he's not attached at the hip to Ryan, who is a few feet ahead talking to Brendon, so Frank jogs ahead to tap Spencer on the shoulder.

"Hey, Spence?"

Spencer looks back at him, eyebrows raised. "Yeah?"

"Can I talk to you for a second?" Frank asks, then hastily adds, "Without a big crowd around."

"Sure," Spencer says easily enough, and then calls, "Hey, Ryan, I'll catch up with you guys later."

Frank waits until the hallway they're in is empty, then says, "So, um. If I start telling you about how G--Professor Way and I are just friends, am I just going to be digging myself deeper or what?"

Spencer smirks a little. "I'll take your word for it. Ryan might be a little more skeptical."

"Has he told Brendon about last weekend yet?"

"Not that I--shit." Spencer says, as both of them simultaneously realize the flaw in Frank's 'get Spencer alone' plan.

"I'll try and keep the two of them from spreading any rumors?" Spencer offers, 'try' being the operative word in that sentence.

"If you can, I'd really appreciate it," Frank says earnestly. "And I'll pay you back. Somehow."

"Um." Spencer shifts a little, fiddling with the strap of his messenger bag. "We should probably wait and see if I can actually help you out at all, but if you mean it about paying me back?"

"Yeah?" Frank prompts.

"It'd be cool to meet Jon Walker," Spencer says in a rush. "Or Bob. Or anyone from the band, really. But I play drums, too, a little, and I've always thought it'd be neat to talk to Bob about some stuff."

"Uh-huh," Frank says, smirking a bit. "And it'd be cool to meet Jon because...? You don't play bass, too, do you?"

"I should really go catch up with Ryan and Brendon," Spencer says, a little too quickly. "See you later, Frank."

"What was that all about?" Gerard asks when Frank meets up with him back in his office.

"Damage control," Frank tells him, solemnly. "Also, I think Spencer has a crush on my neighbor."

"Jon?" Gerard asks absently, sifting through papers. "He's good-looking."

...Right, then. Frank is doing everything in his power to set Jon and Spencer up as soon as possible.

"So I don't want to do anything inappropriate from a workplace ethics standpoint, and I also don't want to fuck up the friendship, but it's like all the perfectly sensible reasons why I shouldn't be falling for him are just making it worse," Gerard finishes. "You ever been in a situation like that?"

"...Dude," Ray Toro says. "We need to catch up more often. Was this going on the last time we talked?"

Gerard takes an anxious drag on his cigarette. "Yes, but I was still hoping it would go away if I refused to verbally acknowledge it."

"So much for that, apparently." Ray sips his drink (herbal tea--he tries to keep his caffeine intake at 'sensible levels', which Gerard thinks is just weird and wrong), and then shrugs. "Sounds like a tough situation to be in. What about Frank? Any signs he does or doesn't feel the same way?"

Gerard runs a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up even more than usual. "I don't even know anymore. Sometimes I'm convinced it's just friendship for him, and then I think maybe he's interested, and then I think that him seeming that way is just wishful thinking, and anyway even if he is interested, he's still my TA."

"He doesn't have to be," Ray points out placidly. "Maybe you come clean with him, he's interested, he asks to be reassigned and then you ask him out."

"Or I come clean with him, he's not interested, and he asks to be reassigned so he can get away from the creepy old man who's perving on him," Gerard counters.

"'Creepy old man'?" Ray echoes. "Last I checked, we're the same age, and I am not an old man. How young is this kid?"

"...Twenty-five," Gerard admits.

"You're sweating a five-year age difference with a guy who's well over eighteen?" Ray asks.

"I'm sweating a five-year age difference with my TA, whose amazing TA-fu I am no longer sure I could function without, yes." Gerard crushes out his cigarette, and resists the urge to light another one immediately.

Ray shrugs again, spreading his hands. "I don't know what to tell you, then, man. Wish I could help."

"You can, actually," Gerard says. "That's the other thing I wanted to talk to you about, that I had to explain the...thing, first."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm going to a Halloween party that's also his birthday party Friday," Gerard explains. "And his friends are going to be there, so I thought maybe if I bring some friends, it can just be a group thing and I don't spend the evening wondering if we're on some weird kind of pseudo-date. I'm going to see if Mikey wants to come, too."

"Mikey know about Frank?" Ray asks.

Gerard shrugs. "He knows that there's a guy I like but it's complicated. Haven't told him the whole story yet. So, you want to come?"

Ray considers for a moment, then nods. "Sure, I'm in. I'd kind of like to meet this guy now."

"--And this is really something I should have asked before tonight, but--"

"What, you?" Frank interrupts, grinning against the phone wedged between his shoulder and his chin. "Not thinking of something until the last minute?"

"Shut up. So...costume? Yes? No?"

"Costumes are optional, and I don't usually bother with one," Frank tells him. "Just...I don't know, wear black and orange or something."

"I have black," Gerard says, and Frank can dimly hear the hangers in his closet clicking against each other. "No orange, though, I don't think--oh, but hey, I could do something with makeup, probably. Is this the sort of Halloween party where showing up in eyeliner would get me punched in the face?"

Frank tries to picture Gerard in eyeliner, manages, but has trouble picturing him out of the suit and tie (even though he's seen him dress down a few times by now) and has to hold back a laughing fit. "Nah, it's a pretty guys-in-eyeliner-friendly place. Do I want to ask why you know how to apply eyeliner?"

"...Can I get away with just 'art school'?" Gerard asks.

"Fork over the details or leave them to my sordid imagination, Way," Frank replies ominously.

"Okay, fine, I dressed in drag once or twice."

Frank makes a strangled noise, because it's going to take him a minute to figure out if the mental image of Gerard in drag is the most hilarious thing ever, or the sexiest, or both. "...Why?"

"To see if I could get away with it," Gerard informs him cheerfully. "Even learned how to walk in heels, which by the way is hard--Frank?"

Frank flops back on the couch, laughing hysterically, until Gerard says, "Oh, shut up. See if I tell you any more art school stories."

The club is even louder and more dimly lit than the first time Gerard was here, and he probably should have cut himself off two beers ago. But it's the one night a year that's basically earmarked for going crazy on, and he's in the middle of a big, friendly group that's actually three or four smaller groups mashed together and gelling pretty nicely, and if he's going to stop drinking then the many friendly people he's surrounded by are going to need to stop handing him drinks, damn it.

Another thing that would help Gerard stop drinking is if Frank stopped being so completely, unfairly beautiful. He's embracing the spirit of going crazy tonight better than any of them, even though Gerard's pretty sure he's had less to drink than some of the people they're with. This is apparently just what Frank is like when he ditches the composed, professional, academic thing and loses his inhibitions and oh, God, he's going to kill Gerard through sheer hotness.

Frank's in a black t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, and there are more tattoos on his upper arms, and Gerard would be a little lightheaded from that alone, probably. But Frank's been dancing, and his skin is glistening with sweat, and he keeps...touching people. In the last hour, Gerard's watched him dance with Vicky, drape himself over Patrick's back to say something in his ear, and just sort of climb Bob like a tree, perching on his roommate's shoulders for as long as Bob would put up with it.

He's barely touched Gerard all night, aside from maybe a hand on his shoulder now and then or brushing against them when the crowd was too thick for them to avoid it. Gerard's not sure if he should be relieved, or if Frank's not touching him while he touches just about everyone else is just driving him even crazier. He also doesn't know what it means that Frank seems to be avoiding touching him, and doesn't want to think about it too hard.

And, in conclusion, Gerard is drinking more than he should. He's also retreated to a booth in the back (where he is not brooding or hiding, thank you very much, just getting off his feet for a while), which is where Frank finds him.

"Hey!" he says by way of greeting, throwing himself into the booth. On the same side as Gerard. "I was wondering where you'd got to."

Gerard swallows, and tries to shift so that Frank's hip isn't pressing against his without it being obvious that that's what he's doing. "Just felt like sitting down for a while."

"Yeah?" Frank looks at him, his expression hard to read. "I asked Ray if he'd seen you--Ray's awesome, by the way, thanks for bringing him--and he said you were hiding. You're not, right?"

...Well, see if Gerard pours his heart out to Ray again. "Hiding? No. Why would I be hiding?"

"Exactly." Frank grins, but it's quick and small and seems almost nervous, though maybe that's just Gerard projecting. "I mean. You're enjoying yourself, aren't you?"

He's leaning in a little, but his expression is guileless, and Gerard can't tell if he's doing it on purpose or not.

"Yeah," Gerard hastens to assure him. "Yeah, I am. Thanks for inviting me." Great, that makes it sound like they're kids or something. Or at a tea party

Frank gives a real grin at the reassurance, the bright, unreservedly happy one that makes Gerard's breath catch, and Gerard's not sure he can take that smile right now. He lets his gaze drop down and to the side, but that's actually worse, because it lands on the tattoo that circles Frank's bicep, letters in thick, old-fashioned script that he's just a bit too drunk to read clearly.

Apparently, he's also too drunk to keep from reaching out to touch it. His hand wraps around Frank's upper arm, thumb tracing the lines of ink, and Frank goes still, wide eyes locking onto Gerard's.

...Gerard sort of feels like he ought to say something at this point. Something that is not 'you're kind of the most beautiful human being I've ever seen, did you know that?'.

"I like your tattoos," he finally manages, which is utterly and completely lame, but in the next moment Frank's mouth lands on his and Gerard forgets how to talk at all, so saying he likes Frank's tattoos is going to have to do.

Frank is kissing him, Gerard realizes after a moment of pure, blank shock. Frank is kissing him, and one of Frank's hands is landing on his shoulder to slide around and cup the back of his neck and the other is settling on Gerard's waist, burning hot through the fabric of his shirt, and Frank's tongue is teasing his mouth open, and it's kind of funny that Gerard thought he was going to die from just watching Frank tonight.

It's Frank who finally backs off, and it's Gerard who yanks him back, because any second now Frank is going to come to his senses and it's going to be over, Gerard is going to lose him so he doesn't have anything to lose anymore, and he's going to savor every bit of Frank he can before that happens.

Frank doesn't come to his senses. He doesn't pull away. What he does is crowd them further into the booth, practically crawling into Gerard's lap, the hand at Gerard's waist slipping under the hem of his shirt to skate across bare skin. Gerard jumps at that, and makes a noise that's almost a whimper, and Frank grins into the kiss that Gerard still can't quite believe is happening.

They finally come up for air, and Gerard runs shaky hands through Frank's hair as Frank dips his head to nuzzle Gerard's neck.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," he murmurs against Gerard's skin, and Gerard shivers.

"So have I," he admits helplessly.

Frank shifts against him, makes Gerard gasp, kisses his way up Gerard's jawline and nips at his earlobe before whispering, "Come home with me?"

"Frank..." Gerard tries to put some distance between them, cups Frank's face in his hands and holds him at arm's length. "I don't think--"

Frank shakes his head as well as he can in Gerard's grip, interrupting. "Don't."

"What?"

"Don't start talking about how we shouldn't," Frank says, soft and urgent, trying to press close again. "I just-- it's my birthday, and you look really hot in eyeliner, I've been wanting to tell you that, and if you tell me we shouldn't do anything after kissing me like that I think I might, like, explode."

"You kissed me first," Gerard protests weakly.

"You kissed me back," Frank insists, stubbornness creeping into his tone. "And felt me up, by the way."

"...I touched your arm! Which I only did because you were invading my personal space after spending all night being some kind of human sex machine." That last part is probably a contradiction, but whatever.

"Eyeliner," Frank reminds him.

"Invitation here tonight in the first place?" Gerard counters. "Hell, invitations out in general, and inviting yourself to my place that time, and tie-fixing that involved more infringement of personal space, and--"

"--Okay, this is getting ridiculous," Frank declares, and dives in to kiss him again, despite Gerard's weak flailing and even weaker noises of protest.

He doesn't pull back until Gerard's been pretty well kissed into submission, and even then he stays close enough for their mouths to brush when he starts fucking whispering again.

"Please. Just...for one night, can we forget about the rules? For one night, can we just be us, and not what we have to be Monday to Friday?"

Gerard can't stop himself from touching Frank, cupping his chin in one hand and sliding his thumb across Frank's lower lip, making it Frank's turn to whimper. "But...take that away, and what are we?"

Frank pulls back enough to look him squarely in the face, both hands on Gerard's shoulders now. "Two guys who apparently both want each other really, really badly, and are fucking tired of pretending they don't."

At some point in the future, Gerard will wonder whether or not he can blame what ensues on the alcohol, and eventually decide that it doesn't matter--drunk or sober, he would have been a goner the moment Frank kissed him.

Gerard's had too much to drink, so he's cutting out early, and Frank is going along to make sure he gets home okay. At least, that's what they tell the others, and it's technically true. It just leaves out what Frank plans to do with Gerard before he makes sure he gets home okay.

Bob smirks at Frank unapologetically, but doesn't say anything beyond "Okay," and "See you later." Frank kind of wants to kick him in the ankle for the smirking, but he also knows that Bob will stay out a little later than he normally would tonight, along with not broadcasting news of the hookup to anyone else. Bob's cool like that.

Gerard lets his brother and Ray know, meanwhile. They're getting along well enough with Frank's friends that Frank doesn't feel bad about stealing Gerard. And apparently Bob isn't the only one who can tell what's going on, because Frank gets a distinctly appraising look from Mikey as Gerard heads back toward him.

Frank reaches for Gerard's hand as they leave together, just in case he tries to bolt or something, but Gerard tangles their fingers together and squeezes just a bit, flashing a nervous smile.

Gerard doesn't have a roommate, but Frank's apartment is a much shorter walk, and he wants to get there as soon as possible. Gerard just lets himself be led, looking dazed--and drunk--enough that Frank almost has second thoughts about this. But when they finally reach the apartment, Gerard turns to face Frank as soon as the door closes, running his hands up into Frank's hair and pulling him close. Frank settles his hands on Gerard's hips, stretching up just a little to kiss him.

Some other time, he's going to spend an hour just kissing Gerard, because after months of fantasizing, the reality is better than he ever imagined. But right now, Frank has a long list of other things he wants to compare fantasy and reality on, and he doesn't want to waste any more time.

"Bedroom?" Gerard mutters, a little indistinctly because he's doing he's best not to stop kissing Frank as he talks.

"Bedroom," Frank agrees emphatically. He has a lot of faith in Bob's willingness to give them some time, but if there were ever a time when he does not want to be surprised by Bob's ninja stealth, this is it.

He breaks off the kiss long enough to look over his shoulder and steer them back towards the bedroom, both of them stumbling slightly as they kick their shoes off along the way. He and Bob cleaned the whole apartment this week, thankfully, so the floor is blessedly clutter-free, and Frank backs straight up to the bed, pulling Gerard down on top of him when the mattress hits his legs. Gerard flails a little more at that and almost knees him in the crotch, and there's a yelp and some shifting around and for a moment things are more awkward than sexy, and then Frank laughs and Gerard mutters "shut up" and kisses him again.

Frank loses track of time a little after that, loses any ability to focus on anything beside Gerard's mouth and Gerard's hands and the noises Gerard makes when Frank bites his lip and slides a hand under his shirt.

"There should be less clothes," Frank says as Gerard scatters kisses down the side of his neck. "At some point. Maybe now?"

"Mm." Gerard sits up and leans back to make the clothes-removing part easier, and there's pressure and friction and Frank almost gets sidetracked, but then he's tugging at Gerard's shirt even more determinedly because okay, getting them both naked as quickly as possible, now. He's got Gerard's shirt off and is making a good start on his jeans when Gerard gets more insistent about reciprocating, pushing Frank's arms above his head so he can get Frank's shirt out of the way. It's clumsy, and Frank has to struggle for a moment to get his head free, and by the time he can see again Gerard's gone still, staring down at him.

"...What?" Frank pants after a moment, and Gerard's hands settle over the tattoos on his stomach and hips, skin-on-skin contact making Frank gasp.

"Just how many of these do you have?" Gerard asks in a slightly strangled tone, and the moment right before they first kissed clicks with this one in Frank's mind, and he makes a mental note to go shirtless around Gerard as often as he can get away with it from now on.

"One way to find out," he says in response, and squirms impatiently. "Which if I remember right was sort of the idea here?"

"Wait--" Gerard says, and "Can I--", and then he gives up on words and just dives forward to press his mouth to one of the bird tattoos, tracing the paths of the ink with his tongue.

"Fuck--" Frank arches under him, one hand fisting in Gerard's hair. "Fuck, okay, pants going off now," he says, and then tries not to elbow Gerard in the nose as he grapples with his own zipper.

Gerard moves back and off, and Frank struggles out of his jeans faster than he ever has in his life, probably, and it goes great up until the point where his ankle gets snared in the denim and he just starts kicking and cursing mindlessly because his clothing is conspiring against him tonight. Gerard, having shimmied out of his at a more reasonable pace, grabs Frank's leg and pulls his ankle free. He's laughing, but that's all right, because it means he's caught unaware when Frank flips him over on the bed and settles between his legs, bare skin on bare skin and oh god, clothes totally suck and this is so much better.

"What do you want?" he purrs in Gerard's ear, moving restlessly against him. Frank knows what he wants, which is everything, in every possible combination, backwards and forwards and possibly upside down, but seeing as he's succeeded in getting Gerard into bed with him, he's prepared to be content with whatever pace Gerard sets and not push his luck.

Gerard makes an undignified noise that's somehow both sexy and adorable at being asked that, and bucks up against Frank, hooking one leg around the back of Frank's thigh.

"Like this," he whispers back as they move together, finding a rhythm. "Just--oh god Frankie--"

Frank braces his hands on either side of Gerard's head, pushing up to look at him the same moment he pushes down with his hips, watching as Gerard comes undone, shaking and gasping.

Afterward, when Frank has finally peeled himself away from Gerard to disappear into the bathroom and come back with damp hand towels, when he's curled himself against Gerard's side and pulled a blanket over them as Gerard slides a hand into his hair, already half-asleep, Frank smiles against Gerard's neck and stretches up to whisper one more thing in his ear.

"Hey, just so you know? Best birthday present ever."

"Oh, so I can keep the pony I was gonna give you?" Gerard mumbles back drowsily. "Cool."

"...There's a joke in there about riding that I'm not gonna make." Frank points out. "Aren't you proud of me?"

Gerard tugs his hair lightly, once. "Mmhm. Very. Go to sleep."