from my head to my middle finger

01 they meet

Gerard unfolded the piece of paper with the address one last time to make sure he was in the right building.

Mikey told him his friend should be home by now, and it was the apartment on the third floor. 'Just look for Frank, and tell him I sent you,' he had said. He was one of his friends from back when he was an intern. 'He's a nice dude.'

Gerard had just got a job as a cartoonist for DC, so he needed a place to stay in NYC. He didn't have the money to rent an apartment, so his brother sent him to one of his friends. Gerard had his reservations, though. He wasn't the most social person, and he wasn't sure if they'd get along. But he didn't have another choice.

So he ate his pride and went up the stairs, taking a deep breath before knocking on the door.

He heard noises inside, followed by a voice, but couldn't understand what he was saying. A moment later, a short guy with a black mop of hair covering half his face and no shirt opened the door. 'Hey – I'm Mikey's brother,' Gerard started, his voice shaky. 'I'm here about the room.'

'Oh, yeah, he called me,' the guy replied, looking half asleep. 'Come in.' Gerard followed him inside. The apartment in itself looked ordinary, though kind of big for New York City. He wondered how much money this guy made. Mikey only mentioned he was still in the music business. 'He mentioned you got a job in the city, huh?'

'Yeah, yeah,' Gerard managed to mumble.

'I'm Frank, by the way.'

'Gerard.'

They shook hands, and he showed him around. Or rather pointed at the different parts of the apartment. 'Kitchen slash dining room, living room, bathroom, my room, and your room, if you decide to take it.'

'How much would it be? I don't have a lot at the moment, but hopefully soon –'

'Nah,' Frank interrupted. 'You're okay. I don't really need help with the rent. But you can stock the fridge with anything you like. For you obviously. I'm barely home, and when I am, I order takeout. Also, there's a little detail, I don't know if Mikey mentioned it – whenever I'm home, I like to throw parties once in a while. They're not the wildest, but they can go on until four or five in the morning. So if that's okay with you –'

He usually went to bed really late, so it didn't bother him. 'Yeah. That's fine.'

'Well, rad! Then you can move in anytime.' He handed him a key, and showed him the room. It was small, with a full bed that took most of the space, but at least it had a closet already. He didn't need much.

He moved in two days later, and found Frank sleeping in the couch. 'I'm sorry,' he said. 'Last night was one of those parties I told you about.' He was shirtless again, making Gerard wondered if that was going to be a thing. He tried not to stare at his chest tattoos, and walked into his room.

All his belongings barely filled two bags, so he just hanged his clothes, and put away his art supplies, before going out to buy food and toiletries. When he returned, Frank's speakers were blasting very loud music, he didn't even notice when Gerard came in. At least, he was wearing clothes, he thought. 'I'm sorry – I forget I don't live alone anymore,' Frank said. It was the first time he saw him without his hair covering his face. He was attractive, he noticed. Not that it mattered.

'It's fine. But what about the neighbors? Don't they complain?'

'Nobody lives downstairs. Mrs. Ness in the first floor is already going deaf.'

Gerard nodded, and put all his food inside the fridge, while Frank finished cleaning the mess from the party. 'Oh, by the way – Bob is coming over later, and he's bringing lunch. I told him to bring some extra for you.'

Gerard supposed it was one of his friends, so he just nodded pretending he knew who he was talking about. 'Thanks.' He locked himself in his room, and started working on his portfolio. He was supposed to have a meeting in a couple days, and they needed to see his ideas.

And when Gerard put his mind to it, he could spend an entire day drawing and sketching, forgetting to even eat and go to the bathroom. So he didn't hear the first time Frank called him. Or the second. Not only he was banging on his door did he remember he told him he'd have lunch with him and his friend. 'I'm coming.' It was the least he could do for all his hospitality, and not having to pay for rent.

He put away his stuff, and walk out his room.

What he didn't expect was Frank sitting in a guy's lap, his arm around his shoulder, eating his entire face. Gerard didn't want to seem disrespectful, or he was shocked, so he didn't say anything, and walked straight to the kitchen. 'Oh – Gerard!' Frank said when he noticed him. 'This is Bob. He kinda lives here, too. Bob, this is Gerard, he lives in the guest room.'

Bob just nodded at Gerard, and then turned back to Frank. 'You have another guy living here?'

'He's Mikey's brother. Remember Mikey?' Bob nodded. 'He got a job here, and Mikey asked me if he could stay here for a while.'

'I promise I'll be quiet, and you won't even notice me here,' Gerard said, which was true. He liked to keep to himself.

'I'm just joking,' Bob told him, and kept kissing Frank.

Gerard served himself a portion of noodles and tofu teriyaki, and didn't know whether to go to his room, or sit with them, but Frank stopped him. 'Come sit with us,' he said, and got up from Bob's lap to sit on a chair next to him. 'Sorry if we made you uncomfortable.'

'It's fine,' Gerard said. He just wasn't used to – that. People being so open about it.

'It's just that he just came back from tour and we hadn't seen each other in a while, so –'

'So you're a musician?' Gerard asked Bob.

'I'm a sound engineer for touring bands,' he told him. 'But I'm also a working drummer.'

'That's how we met,' Frank interrupted. Gerard didn't ask what he did, he just continued talking. 'I was playing with this band at the time, and he worked for our team, and then we ran into each other months later when he played drums for an album, and you know –'

'So you're in a band?'

'Was. Now I just get paid to play guitar in other people's albums, or go on tour when they need one.' So that's how he made money for a nice apartment.

'And what do you do?' Bob asked out of nowhere.

'I got a job in DC Comics. As concept artist.'

'What?! That's a big fucking deal!'

'Are you serious?!' Frank screamed, and Gerard nodded. 'Why didn't you tell me?'

'Because – I don't know. I don't like to brag.' They talked for another hour or two before Gerard excused himself to go back to work. He only went out of his room to grab an apple, and use the bathroom once.

He was still sketching late at night when he heard Frank's moans and calling Bob's name, followed by weird noises that could only mean one thing. He wondered if that was how it was going to be.