Regret Flows (Frerard)

The Kill

"Yes, I'd like to make some amendments to my father's plan," Gerard said as he leant over the counter. The receptionist's nails clicked loudly on her keyboard as she typed, annoying both of the men. "So, I'd like to continue paying for the room, but instead of unlimited amenities, I'd like to only cover one meal per day."

She looked up at him confused but continued to type. "Okay so, the room, one meal, and.."

"That's it." Gerard replied coldly, "He can figure out the rest." The woman continued typing loudly and had Gerard sign a paper, before they handed back their visitor badges and left. They walked in silence to the De Ville and climbed in. Frank turned to Gerard, who's stone-faced expression was still present even without the company of his partner's father. 

Gerard looked into Frank's wide eyes and sighed, "I'm sorry he turned on you like that, I knew he would- I wish you weren't there to see that. I just can't fucking stand being around him or Mikey, and I jus-"

"I love you." Frank cut him off, taking the elder by surprise. Gerard looked back at the younger in a stunned silence, their eyes locked on one another. "You standing up for me.. You've done it like three times now, and- I just feel safe around you, no matter who else is around, you're there to defend me, and -" Frank stumbled over his words, "I just never felt like this before, and I don't know what else it could be."

Gerard's eyes began to well and a soft smile cracked between his lips. "I love you, too." Frank leant over to Gerard and pressed their lips softly together, gently working their mouths into the other's. When they pulled apart, they kept their foreheads pressed together, and smiled at one another, blissfully blocking out their surroundings. 

After a few minutes of appreciating the new atmosphere they had created, despite the train wreck they had just fled, Gerard's hand felt for the key and the engine thundered to life once again. Gerard slammed his foot on the gas, laughing as the tires squealed and Frank raised two middle fingers out his window towards the tall building, quickly erased by a cloud of smoke trailing behind them. 

Gerard wore an infectious smile the whole way home, which made its way onto Frank's face as well. "Let's go on a trip," Gerard suggested excitedly as they pulled into the driveway. Frank laughed, happy to see his partner's attitude was able to rebound so quickly. "No, seriously! I have some paintings in a show in LA this weekend. I didn't even consider going but, I don't know..I just think it would be fun."

"Gerard, I can't even pay for groceries! What makes you think I can go on a vacation!" Frank laughed as they entered the house.

Gerard tossed his keys on the table by the door and threw his large jacket on a chair before turning to Frank again, "I'll pay for everything, BUT-" Gerard shouted as he saw Frank begin to open his mouth to protest, "You have to go with me to the show as my eye candy. Everyone will be super jealous of me and I'll get lots of attention, it'll be great." Frank scrunched his eyebrows together and crossed his arms in an attempt to look serious but didn't say anything. "What? It's not like you have to request the time off work," Gerard teased with his mouth in an open smile, pulling Frank into a hug, "Whatta ya say?"

"Fine," Frank agreed with his face pressed against the artist's chest, "Because I love you."

"I'm never going to get tired of hearing that."

- 

Later that evening, Gerard spent time in his studio despite how hard it was to pry himself away from Frank. He knew he had to continue to enforce routine in his life, especially with the rollercoaster of events that took place today. He knelt on the ground, stretching canvas over frames as he processed the scene at his father's. Why was it so hard for his father to bite his tongue and not instigate fights when he was around? Acceptance was asking a lot of the man but if he was able to endure the lifetime of abuse fired at him, his father should be able to endure shutting the fuck up for an hour once a month. 

Gerard lit a cigarette between his lips and continued stretching canvases, rolling his eyes when the image of his brother popped into his mind. He thought back to when they were kids, before their father taught Mikey what hatred was. He wished they could go back in time to when they were friends; not a care in the world and no understanding of anything other than what made them happy; action figures, forts, etc. Unfortunately this friendship began to crumble around Gerard turning twelve and completely ceased to exist by fourteen. 

Clouds of smoke shot from between the artists lips as he began to paint, splashing color across the blank canvas. He poured the emptiness and solitude he felt from his hollow chest cavity into the piece in front of him, attempting to amputate the connection between himself and his living family. Hours were lost as the artist thought, smoked, and cried while finalizing the work. As he finished, he took a few steps back to see the piece in its entirety. He saw himself, broken and crumbling, surrounded by darkness, left to bleed out and die.. He saw every slur, attack, strike, bit of neglect his family ever forced upon him, and he smiled. Gerard walked back up to the canvas and grabbed it roughly by the bottom, smudging the still wet paint as he sloppily signed his initials. Then, in one swift motion, he threw the painting behind him, hearing a loud clang as it slammed into the metal garage door, but didn't turn his head to see where it had landed. 

The artist took a deep breath before pulling a fresh cigarette to his lips, and set a new canvas on his easel. He stared at the blank space and smiled as the images of his family vanished and were quickly replaced with opposing emotion. He grabbed a fresh pallet with a new array of colors, and returned to the easel before pausing. "Frank," he said aloud smiling to himself, "I love you." Butterflies fluttered and flooded his previously empty chest with warmth and joy, rushing through his veins and causing him to jitter excitedly. The artist began to work, letting the buzz of happiness guide his course; something he was learning to love.

Inside, Frank appreciated the time he got alone as well. He tidied up around the house and began a load of laundry as he unloaded the events of the day in his own way. Earlier in the week, Gerard had shown him how to connect his phone to the sound system in the house, so he decided to blare Black Flag as he worked. He thought about how horrible Gerard's dad and brother were today and couldn't imagine how damaging they had been when Gerard was younger. Frank had always thought his mother was bad, but at least she never berated him publicly, which he was now incredibly grateful for. He continued to think about the man he loved and, despite how he got to where he was, was thankful to have him in his life. He smiled to himself, mesmerized by Gerard's seemingly endless qualities; reminiscing on his willingness to defend Frank, help him get sober, save him from homelessness, and now take him on a vacation. 

He returned to the guest room for the first time in a couple days, appreciating he had broken the depressive spell he had been locked in. Knowing he was alone, Frank picked up his guitar and slung it over his shoulder, and played along to the song blaring through the house. Frank stood with confidence for the first time, happiness shining through his body as he knew he was in a place where he was safe; where he was loved. He continued to play around, letting himself feel like a kid again, appreciating the lightness of safety and security. 

Eventually, still not wanting for Gerard to hear him play, he set his guitar down and made his way back into the main house. He saw the light was still on in the studio at the bottom of the garden, and smiled knowing Gerard was continuing to keep his routine despite Frank crashing into his life like a train off the tracks. Frank settled onto the couch with the same book he had flipped through while locked in his depressive episode, and yawned feeling his eyelids hang. He turned off the music, hoping it would help him focus, and pulled a heavy blanket over his lap. 

"Huh?" Frank mumbled as he felt two arms slide under his body.

"Shh, Don't worry. We're going to bed," Gerard whispered into the younger's ear as he effortlessly lifted him. 

"But your painting," Frank asked worried Gerard was neglecting his art to take care of him.

Gerard just smiled and carried the boy to bed, gently tucking him into the black sheets and watching him plummet immediately back into sleep. He pulled off his shirt and pants, then crawled into bed behind Frank and draped a paint covered arm over his body. "I love you," Gerard whispered softly as he closed his eyes. 

"I love you, too," Frank breathed almost inaudibly from his deep sleep.