Friday I'm In Love

△ 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞 △

They hadn't moved in hours, tucked into mounds of black blankets as the main titles in yellow scrolling text moved up the screen. After making two particularly strong cups of coffee, hoarding sofas like dragons, and retreating into their caves both men seeped into silence. The night slipped by, through their fingers like sand. The real trouble kicked the door down in the form of two six o'clock alarms screaming out the lyrics to Common People. Gerard, identified by the moving mountain of Batman blankets, screeched before tripping and landing in a groaning mass on the floorboards. 

Mikey, unlike his brother, unwound himself from his cocoon and reached over to the coffee table. He squinted at the screen, the colors and words blurring into one bright white mass. Fuck, eyeglasses. He moved onto his knees, wading through the blankets as if they were quicksand. His knee down and heard a distinct snap, plastic snapped, under the bone. 

"Fuck." Mikey hissed, screwing up his eyes.

"Was-"

"Yes, that... was my fucking glasses." 

The doorbell shrieked, interrupting the conversation like a subtle knee to the groin. The blurry haze across the room Mikey had affectionately dubbed 'Gerard' silenced the alarms and got to his feet. 

"Mikey?" Ray called inside with a sharp knock on the door. 

Gerard met his gaze, a sly smirk moving across his face as he got to his feet. He moved across the room as Mikey stumbled, trying to get his glasses out from underneath him and find the duck tape. Gerard stood in front of the door, running a hand through his three-day greasy hair, and opening the door with a smile. 

Ray smiled back before frowning at Gerard and peering behind him. "Gerard! Hi, is Mikey here?" he asked, a slight blush across his cheeks as the name passed his lips. "I... was hoping to see him before I went to work."

Gerard raised an eyebrow before glancing behind him to the bumbling buffoon that was his younger brother. "It's", he glanced at his watch. " six in the morning and you're getting into drag? That's dedication. Mikey's... having a crisis at the moment - the idiot stood on his glasses. How long do you have?"

"Yeah, I'm helping out a friend with her web series. Doesn't he have a spare pair?"

"That was the spare pair." Mikey screeched. 

"Which means we're going to need to get a new pair, how much time do you have before work?" Gerard smiled as he leaned against the door frame. 

The process of trying to get a blind bat through the obstacle course of a city was far more exhausting than the two had previously anticipated. Ray was more than willing to help, sneaking small glances and sharing brief smiles between himself and Mikey. Gerard rolled his eyes and pressed forward. All three were idiots, stumbling down the sidewalk like hungover frat boys slithering their way back to their campus house, not that they were entirely to blame. 

"Okay... nope I can't go any further with you two!" Gerard declared, a block away from the opticians. "Between the gooey eyes and soft smiles, I will throw up on someone!" 

"Gerard!" Mikey shrieked, elbowing him sharply in the ribs. "Shut up! shut up!"

"Ray, make sure he gets home alive and eats something." he grinned, untangling himself from his brother and his friend. "Toodaloo!" Gerard added with a friendly wave before bolting down the streets.

Gerard arrived on Frank's doorstep with an overwhelming cloud of dread hanging over him and his stomach churning like a violent sea. The door itself represented a far greater fear than a few flights of stairs and a black welcome mat with cartoon skulls, this was Frank's life. This was Frank's new life that Gerard wasn't a part of anymore. Where did he fit into the complicated jigsaw that was Frank's life? Did he even deserve a place near his ex-best friend?

He felt shame, more than anything else at that moment. Shame that he had been so selfish that he had to ask Mikey where Frank lived. Gerard shoved it aside as he reached over and rapped the door, before pulling away as if it had burned him.

The door swung open a few seconds later and his eyes fell on Frank's boyfriend. Gerard shouldn't have been surprised, or as crushed as he was when their eyes met. He hadn't planned to see Pete - not that he'd thought as much as he'd run - his blood ran cold at the sight. Pete wasn't like him; he was tattooed, selfless, and kind with a warm smile. He was lean but, unlike Gerard, had muscle instead of stretch marks. Pete held his head high. Even dressed in blue scrubs and tennis shoes Pete still shone far brighter than Gerard ever could.

"Gerard, hey, Frank didn't say you were coming over." Pete smiled falsely, glancing into the apartment to reaffirm his suspicions.

Gerard nodded in response as he fought to keep his eyes on Pete and not wandering to find Frank. He shoved his palms into his back pockets and gave Pete a weak smile in return. "Is Frank there? I just need a minute" he said. "It won't take long, I promise."

Pete frowned in response and opened the door wider, moving aside to let him in. Gerard shuffled inside, his heart racing outside of his chest. He felt guilty standing in their house, surrounded by beautiful furniture and walls of guitars. The house was beautiful, well put together, and charming in a way he could only describe as Frank. Band posters plastered the walls in pristine picture frames and plectrums scattered across the cabinets like confetti. 

Frank appeared in the doorway of what Gerard assumed was his bedroom with his hair all fluffy and on end in gray sweatpants and a fading Misfits shirt. He rubbed his eyes, squinted, and tilted his head to the side. 

"Gerard?"

"...Hi."

"What" he yawned,"are you doing here?" 

Gerard cleared his throat, flushing a soft magenta, and licked his lips. "Do you have a minute? I need to talk to you."