frerard one shots | ✔️

seventy-three ~ sleeping with the enemy part two (never anyone else)

if we pretended laptops existed during ww2 that would be lovely, thanks LOL

"Hey, baby," Gerard called out, "where are you?"

"Kitchen!" Frank called back, voice strained. He untangled his fingers from his hair and greeted Gerard at the doorway of the kitchen with a hug. Gerard felt Frank leaning into him so he accepted Frank's body weight. 

"You alright?" Gerard asked, thumb stroking Frank's cheek. 

Frank was about to answer, but the cooking timer went off and he nearly jumped three feet in the air. Gerard bit his lip as he watched Frank pour out the pasta into the strainer in the sink and rub his eyes a little before putting it back into the pot. When Frank stirred the sauce into the pasta, Gerard took out dishes from the tiny apartment's cupboard and set them beside the pot. 

Frank smiled, and Gerard saw the bags and wrinkles around his eyes beginning to form. Frank looked for a serving spoon, but Gerard caught his hands and brought him into a quick kiss. 

"Baby, you look a little rough, what's going on?" 

Frank bit his lip and took a deep breath, sagging in Gerard's arms. 

"Sit down on the sofa, love, I'll serve us pasta and I'll be right there." 

"No, I have to make it perfect, just like mother," Frank said, and Gerard noticed that he wasn't trying to do his best American accent anymore, his words flowed from his lips thickly, perfect facade falling.  

Gerard kissed Frank's cheek and let him fill the bowls, sprinkle cheese and basil and finally pull out silverware. 

"I don't wanna drink tonight if that's okay," Frank said, avoiding eye contact with Gerard as he got everything ready to bring to the sofa. 

"Baby, are we okay?" Gerard asked, heart dropping as he caught Frank's elbows in his palms. 

Frank looked up immediately, eyes desperate. "Yes, fuck. Yes, we're... Unless we're not?"

"No, we're all good," Gerard reassured him, and Frank's arms wrapped around his torso. Again, Gerard felt as though he was supporting half of Frank's weight, but he didn't mind, he was just aching to know what was going on. "But yeah, I don't mind having a sober night."

"Thanks," Frank said, and they took their bowls to the sofa in Frank's living room. As always, Gerard put his legs over Frank's and leant on the armrest, perpendicular to him. "My agency in Rome, they're going to do their yearly checkup in a couple of months, and I don't know what I'm going to tell them without being killed for lying further down the line."

Gerard bit his lip. "Fuck." 

Frank put his pasta down and put his face in his hands. "Baby, mio amore, I don't know what I am going to do! I can't join their forces again, it would not be right, but I will die if I do the, the, the...  fuck, the word for betrayal, how do you say?"

"Treason," Gerard mumbled. "They'd kill you if you committed treason."

Frank nodded. "I cannot lose you. I know we've only been official for a year and a few months now but I could not lose you."

"I can't lose you either Frank. Please don't go away," Gerard responded, sitting up a little so the two of them could drape their arms around each other. "I can't ask you to commit a crime for me, honey, you know that. But we all know where your true faith is—"

"But don't you see?" Frank cried, and finally, his voice cracked, tears spilling out from behind his eyes. "If I tell them false information, they're gonna kill me for treason, and if I give them true information, I could be singlehandedly responsible for hundreds or thousands of people's deaths. And I can't do that."