Fifty-Three

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Let's rewind 20 minutes or so, shall we?

Last we were with Gerard, his mother was being an alcoholic, his father was being dead, and his dearest brother, the love of his life, the apple of his eye, was being a complete and utter butthead.

This was his everyday life, so it usually didn't bother him, but today it was all too much.

He felt restless, angry, and invaded by the random Bert-related memories in his head.

Too much.

He was pacing his room, running his fingers through his hair, feeling his stomach flip a little every time the lightning lit up his walls.

He stopped pacing.

He wanted to find Frank.

He had so much energy he could run a marathon, so that's precisely what he did. He'd never been one for online communication anyway.

He remembered the directions to Frank's, so he left the house with no actual coat, which was a pretty bad move considering it was September, but he didn't really care all that much. If he got sick, he got sick. He didn't have anywhere to be anyway.

Frank was walking outside, which Gerard thought was weird, but even weirder was that the second Frank caught Gerard's eyes, he felt the biggest swoop in his stomach he'd ever experienced. He slowed his running and stood in front of Frank, who stared at him, stunned.

"Hi," said Gerard, his hair dripping water into his eyes.

"Hi," Frank said, still a little bewildered as to why he was there.

"Listen, I don't..." He turned and pushed his hand through his wet hair, trying to figure out what to say. "I don't really know why I... had to do it right now, but..." He let his hand fall back at his side. "I like you. Like, like-like you." He wove his fingers in his hair again. "And I know you probably don't- feel the same but I just- I just had to tell you, and I'm sorry-"

"Gerard..."

"I'm sorry I probably, like, messed this up, and-"

"Gerard."

Gerard stopped talking and looked at Frank, who grabbed him by the neck and pressed his lips to Gerard's, his eyebrows still furrowed from yelling to be heard.

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