The Man I Know I'm Not [Frerard] (Sequel To Tell Me I'm A Bad Man)

Twelve - Is It Still Me That Makes You Sweat?

I was in the kitchen, using up the last of the coffee, when I heard the front door open. I knew that drinking the remaining coffee we had would piss Gerard off - not because it was the last of the coffee, but because I wouldn't tell him - but somehow that was the least of my worries. Though it would be pretty hard to tell him, seeing as he hadn't said a word to me for three fucking days.

As I lifted the mug towards my lips, my back to the kitchen door, I felt arms slip around my waist from behind. I involuntarily tensed, even though I wanted nothing more than to sink into my boyfriend's warmth.

"Is that an empty coffee jar I see, sugar?" Murmured Gerard, home from a day at work teaching artsy kids artsy shit.

"Yes, that's an empty coffee jar you see, Gerard." I said curtly, taking a sip. "Problem?"

He nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck, letting out a small noise of protest. "Frankie..."

"Yes?"

He huffed. "I missed you."

I set the mug on the counter with a sigh. "You haven't spoken to me for three days, I don't think an 'I missed you' and an attempt at a messy handjob in the shower later on is gonna make up for it, do you?"

He spun me around and pushed me against the counter, his hands either side of me. "No, I don't, which is why I was gonna suggest that I take you out for dinner tonight."

I rose an eyebrow. "Dinner." He nodded. "Right, and where?"

"Your choice." He placed his hands on my hips and I took hold of his tie, twisting it around my hand and pulling him closer. "There's that new restaurant just opened outside of town, the one on the hill, remember?"

"Uh-huh. We can go there."

"Ew, guys, I make food in here." Bert's voice floated into the room, and I glanced over Gerard's shoulder to see him walk in.

"Won't wanna use the table, then." I replied, and he froze, in the middle of opening the fridge. I laughed, but he stayed right where he was. "I'm kidding. For now." I added, smirking as he gagged.

Gerard went to kiss me, but I turned my head so he got my cheek. When he pouted, I gave him a deadpan look. "I'm pissed at you, remember?"

He rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna go shower. Be ready by six, okay?"

I waved a dismissive hand and he walked off, leaving me to pick up my coffee and pray that it wasn't lukewarm. It was still marginally hot, but as I sipped at it, I could feel Bert's eyes on me.

"What?" I said, as he eyed me with an almost pitying expression.

"You'd let him get away with murder, wouldn't you?" He said softly, the same pity in his voice that was on his face. What the heck was he pitying me for?

"Of course I wouldn't."

"Yes you would." He was silent for a few seconds, his hand on the door of the refrigerator. "He could kill your entire family and have no remorse, but within ten minutes you'll be making out like he's not about to go to jail."

I slowly lowered my mug. "I think killing my family is a slightly bigger deal than ignoring me for three days."

He paused, considering, and then nodded. "Okay, yeah. But he could break every promise he's made, lie to you again and again, and completely break your heart somehow, but you'd still let him back with open arms."