Regret Flows (Frerard)

Frank mumbled as he began to wake up, and rolled over to wrap his tattooed arm around Gerard. His arm fell into the empty depression on Gerard's side of the bed, and immediately sat up scared and confused. He looked around the room for any signs of life, but laid back down when he couldn't hear any movement. The twenty three year old rolled back over to check his phone for any messages from Gerard, but when there were none, he assumed he was just spending time in his studio. 

Frank shivered and pulled the soft black duvet up over his head, blocking out the chilly January air as he thought about the night before. Now that he had processed the emotional speed bump that was his inability to play for Gerard, he was embarrassed he let himself get so worked up over it. He appreciated Gerard's loving and calming nature, especially that he didn't make Frank feel badly for having an episode. In fact, he was the only person to have ever actually helped Frank calm down when he was having a freak out- everyone else just yelled, blamed him or walked out entirely. 

The twenty three year old dragged his feet out of bed and rested them on the floor as he stretched his arms over his head. Realizing the house wasn't as cold as he thought, he stood up, jumped into a pair of loose grey sweatpants, and made his way downstairs shirtless. As he trotted down the flight of stairs, he looked out the towering back window to the bottom of the garden where Gerard's studio sat. "Huh.." he said aloud as he noticed the door was closed and the lights were off. Frank continued down the stairs and grabbed himself a coffee mug, filling it from the ever full pot on the counter. Worry began to set in as he looked around the empty house, and his mind ran wild with intrusive anxiety driven possibilities.

'He's left you.' 'That doesn't make sense, this is his house.' 'He just couldn't stand to be around you, even in his house.' 'He saw you freak out last night.' 'He doesn't want to deal with all that drama.' 'You have too much baggage.' 'He knows you've been thinking about drinking.' 'He knows you've been getting too attached.' 'He wants out.' 'You're not good enough for him.' 'He's famous, he has hundreds of people who love him.' 'Why would he settle for you?'

Frank's hands trembled as he held his mug, gently sloshing the liquid around as he stared off in a dissociative state as he was pummeled by his own anxious thoughts. A low rumble pulled him back into reality as he focused to hear where the sound was coming from. He squinted his eyes at the front door as he heard a muted metallic clank followed by a faint "Ah, fuck." Frank sprinted to the front door and threw it open to see Gerard bent over, picking up his keys on the frosty walkway. Overwhelmed with emotion, he leapt out from the house, barefooted and shirtless, launching himself into the artist's arms. "Hey, honey,"  he chucked lowly, "What are you doing? You're gonna freeze to death."

"I didn't know where you were," Frank mumbled from the elders chest as he walked him back into the house huddled against his warm body.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry, I thought you'd be sleeping, I just popped out to grab some supplies," Gerard tipped Frank's chin up and meshed their lips together softly.

As he clung helplessly to the artist, Frank realized how dependent he had become on the other. He couldn't imagine a life without him or where he didn't know where he was; he needed him. He needed Gerard on a lifelong basis. Forever. 

"Do you want to go out for a coffee?" Frank beamed up at the ebony haired artist whose smile counteracted all previous negative thoughts.

"I would love that," he chuckled, still holding the younger by his waist, "Is this what you're wearing? I mean I like it, but I don't think it's coffee shop attire." Gerard teased as Frank rolled his eyes and headed upstairs. "No, wait! I like seeing your tattoos! It makes us both look cool!" He continued to call as Frank flipped him off from the top of the landing and entered the bedroom. Once inside, he pulled open his wardrobe, and swiped through his hanging shirts, happy to see all the new attire Gerard had spoiled him with. He picked a plain white tee and paired it with a forest green flannel and dark jeans as he heard Gerard continue to shout from downstairs, but couldn't make out what he was saying. He paused momentarily listening carefully to make sure the artist wasn't coming up the stairs, then pulled open the bottom drawer to his wardrobe, and retrieved a loose guitar string from under some other guitar equipment. 

He took the string to the walk in closet, and sat on the floor between pairs of Gerard's hanging suit pants. He reached blindly into the back behind the trousers, searching for some loose tools he remembered seeing a while back. Frank pulled put a pink hammer and rolled his eyes, setting it on the floor next to him, and reached in again. A full toolset later, Frank eventually found a pink pair of wire cutters, which he used to clip the end of the string off, and crimp it back into itself in a neat loop. He smiled at his creation, spinning it in his fingertips as he held it to the light, and tucked it into his breast pocket before sliding the loose effeminate tools back into the dark corner. He jumped to his feet and ran back down the stairs, popping up onto his tiptoes to kiss Gerard's cheek before the two headed back out. 

-

"Lattes are not gay, Gerard," Frank rolled his eyes, raising the mug to his lips with a soft clink from his lip ring. "I just have feeling left in my soul so I can't stomach black coffee."

"Lattes are gay, and my lack of soul has nothing to do with my black coffee- it's just better." Gerard countered, chewing on a stir stick. The couple sat in the same booth where Gerard had first approached Frank some months ago, in the same seats. Frank loved the way Gerard made everything fun and lighthearted; he felt a constant blanket of security wrapped around him, allowing him to relax and be himself. Iero laughed as a waitress approached the table with an annoyed look on her face, roughly setting down two breakfast bagels. 

"Homophobic comments are not tolerated here," she pointed her nose in the air as she frowned down dramatically at Gerard. She crossed her arms aggressively causing her ponytail to sway behind her.

"Listen kid, I'm the biggest fag in this place, so I'll make all the homophobic comments I like, 'kay?" Way sneered back, raising his eyebrows confrontationally and continuing to chew on the stirrer. 

She stared at him in disgust as Frank giggled, "It's true, he owns pink tools," he pointed out before she rolled her eyes and stomped away.

"The color of the tools doesn't impede their ability to be tools- wait why are you digging around in the closet?" Gerard asked as he waved the stirrer around. 

"Why do you keep pink tools in the closet?"

"Tools. I keep tools in the closet because where the fuck else am I going to keep them? I rarely need to hammer or screw anything," Gerard said as he sipped his soulless coffee earning a suggestive wink from the younger. 

Frank took a big bite of his bagel and changed the subject before Gerard remembered why he was defending the color of his tools in the first place. The sun began to peak through the clouds for the first time in a month, shining a strong beam of light onto the tired pavement outside. Birds started to glide by the steamy window, chirping loudly as the cloud cover dissipated above. Frank couldn't help but continue to think about how vulnerable and defenseless he's become around Gerard; accepting he had changed and the reality of his codependency. "Hey, wanna go for a walk with me?" Frank said in a flat tone after they both had finished their food. "The sun is finally coming out, we should get some use out of it."

Gerard smiled happily back at his other half as his hand fidgeted with the contents of his pocket under the table. "I'd love that, do you have anywhere in particular you wanted to go?"

Frank continued to stare out the window at the cars flying past, "How about the cemetery?" he replied expressionless, sipping his latte and furrowing his brow only half present in reality. 

Gerard noticed Frank's sudden shift in emotion, stirring a low wave of anxiety in his chest. "Yeah, okay hon, that sounds lovely," he forced a smile, wishing he could hear what Frank was thinking.