Friday I'm In Love

△ 𝐅𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 △

They sat in silence, fingers intertwined across the table as they picked apart their meals. The bags under their eyes weighed them down like anchors, sinking further into the abyss of the ocean. This was their rekindling after weeks of faint brushes and fleeting kisses. It wasn't working. Neither man spoke, too afraid to lose the few precious moments they had. The candle was flickering, the match no longer burned with an angry passion, as two adults grew apart like a crack in a canyon. 

"I spoke to Gerard a few weeks ago." Frank began as his eyes flickered up to Pete. His stomach churned uncomfortably as Frank squirmed in his seat, the image of Gerard's face burning behind his eyes. Gerard's words echoed between his ears - a siren call if he ever heard one - sending shivers down his spine.

Pete smiled and sat his cutlery down."Oh? How is he?"

Frank swallowed thickly as he dropped his eyes to his plate and cleared his throat. "Well. . . you know- I mean"

"Frank, we've never lied before. I don't want us to start. Whatever it is, no matter what, I promise I won't be mad." he said, "Did something happen with Gerard?"

"He said something and. . . and it won't leave my mind" Frank whispered, tugging his hand away from Pete's to thread both through his hair. He set his elbows down on the table, his hands sinking into his hair in despair. "he just came back into my life and bulldozed some walls. I can't help it. God, I feel like such a fucking idiot." he croaked as Pete got out of his chair and moved Frank's plate to jump up onto the table. "It's just-"

"Gerard, it's always been." Pete finished for him as Frank took his hands out of his hair and looked up wide-eyed. "You think I didn't know you still loved him? I know those puppy eyes too well for that." he laughed without a hint of malice or anger to him, like a gentle summer's breeze. Pete reached over and brushed the array strands of hair out of Frank's bleary eyes before setting his hand on top of Frank's. "So, what are you going to do about it?"

Frank took a breath to speak, rendered speechless, but shook his head. "You are. . . far too chill about this." 

"That's because I love you, silly, I only want you to be happy. There's much worse a man could have done to someone like me, I'm just happy to have shared my life with you for nine years." he smiled, Pete's voice quivering through the last sentence. Pete reached up and brushed a tear away with a sniff as he pressed his lips together and swung his legs gently. 

"You're really okay with this?" Frank asked as he took Pete's hand in his and turned the palm face-up, pressing a kiss to the inside, his eyes on Pete's. "I don't want you to be upset because of me-"

"Please - I'm your boyfriend, not your jailer. If you love him go get him, don't wait around for someone else to come along."

"Pete,"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

△△△

Frank wandered into his usual bar, his palms shoved into his pockets, with his head hung low. He hopped onto the barstool at the end of the bar with a grumble about height differences and folded his arms. The burly bear in black leather beside him raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing else as he drained his beer and wandered off. Frank sighed and ran a hand through his hair as the bartender wandered over with a smile. 

He shook his head in disappointment, leaning across with a raised eyebrow as he cleaned a glass. He was annoyingly beautiful, although not his type, with bright blond hair and warm whiskey eyes. Today he was only in a short-sleeved black button down with a bright pattern of neon lines over a gray Joy Division shirt. He was only ever in on Fridays and Wednesdays, he worked on rotation at the bar Frank worked at during the rest of the week. 

"Frankie, darling, what's the matter?" Patrick pouted with a slight tilt of his head. 

Frank waved him off. "It's nothing."

"Your friend... Gerard? He was in earlier, wandered off with some jackass in a Iron Maiden shirt, pierced as fuck with red eye contacts-"

"Gerard was in here?" he asked, squinting at the pride flag behind the bar. "Was he high off his tits?"

"Didn't seem like it. A pretty blond guy in a black dress and a leather jacket was with him too if that helps? The pretty blond asked after Ruby Dracula left." Patrick shrugged nonchalantly as he turned around and took out a bottle of beer, setting it down in front of Frank. "Why do I feel like you're only here to milk me for information?" he frowned, folding his arms on the bar. "How are things with your loverboy?"

Frank winced and shook his head. "I kinda told him I still love this guy that I was friends with when I was sixteen-"

"Frank Iero!" Patrick gasped in horror as his hands flew up to cover his mouth. "You. Did. Not!"

"Yeah..."

"Shit. Have you told the guy?"

"No! I was still... with Pete. I don't know, Patrick, there's too much on the line. What if it goes wrong?"

"But, what if it goes right?"