from my head to my middle finger

03 frank is lonely and sad

The following morning – or rather, noon – Gerard woke up with the worst hangover. He hadn't had a drink in a while, and promised himself not to drink again. But for now, he needed coffee. And to pee.

He ran to the bathroom, still half asleep, and then went straight to the kitchen to make himself some coffee.

'Good morning, sleepy head,' Frank greeted from the dining room. Gerard mumbled something not even close, but Frank assumed that's what he tried to say. 'Oh, you have the case of the hangover?' Gerard didn't answer, but wondered why he looked so recovered. 'You need a shower, my man. It'll make you feel human again. Can I ask you something?' There was a pause before he continued. 'Did I do anything embarrassing?'

Gerard avoided looking at him at all costs. The last thing he needed was to remember what he saw last night. 'Uhm – I don't remember?' he said, hoping that'd be enough for him. Frank gave him a look, not sure whether to believe it or not, but didn't press any further.

'Good morning, Gerard,' Bob said walking by him.

'Good morning, babe,' Frank said.

'I'm not talking to you.'

Bob walked out of the apartment, clearly pissed, as Frank just looked confused. Gerard wanted to ask, but he didn't know them enough to get involved. That didn't matter because Frank told him. 'He says he caught me fucking someone. He didn't tell me who though.'

Gerard stood there, eyes opened twice as big. There was a limit on how much he needed to know about his roommates, and this crossed the line. He had already seen too much. 'I – I don't know what to say –'

'I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't be telling you this. I just thought you had seen something.'

'I –'

Frank just got up from his seat and walked to his room, and Gerard went back to his. He took some aspiring and went back to sleep because he had the worst headache ever. He was then woken up by Frank and Bob yelling at each other. Something about not remembering what happened, and that they were just as intoxicated, and how everyone saw Frank sucking some guy's dick. 'What are you talking about?!' Frank yelled.

'Matt told me – he said he doesn't know the name of the guy, but he had a beard. Was that Marc?'

'Fuck no!' There was more yelling, though Gerard had no idea what they were talking about. Then, doors got slammed, and more yelling, and then, complete silence.

Gerard felt like he had to ask Frank if he was okay. Whatever it was that happened, he was probably feeling like shit, and he'd been a good friend to Gerard, so he just felt obliged to make sure he was doing fine. He'd been there before, and it was the worst.

It took him a while to get the courage, and by the time he walked out of the room, he saw Frank crying in the couch – the same one where him and Bob where making out – holding a bottle of Vodka. He was in his boxers, all sweaty, and Gerard was sure he'd taken something else. 'Is everything okay?' he asked, knowing how stupid that sounded.

Frank shook his head, mumbling something, and then took a sip from the bottle. 'He left me.'

'I am so sorry.' Gerard kept his distance. He didn't know exactly what happened, but from what he'd seen, Frank was very handsy, and his moods went all over the place – probably because of the drugs –, and that was exactly what led him to where he was. But he didn't know if he couldn't control himself either. There was something about Frank. 'I'm here if you need me, you know that, right?'

Frank nodded. 'Can you hug me?'

Gerard knew he couldn't tell him no. So, he got closer, and put his arms around him. He tried not to, but it was impossible for his hands not to touch his bare skin. He smelled like puke, and cigarettes, but mostly puke. He wanted to pull away, but Frank was holding him tight, and he heard him sobbing in his shoulder. Fuck. He didn't know what to say. You shouldn't have fuck whoever that was? So he just let him cry. He told him he couldn't remember for the life of him who that was, and maybe it didn't mean anything. But he missed him so much, and his life didn't have a meaning without him, and he wanted to die.

Gerard realized it was worse than he thought, and he was sure he didn't know the whole story. But he didn't like to see him suffer. He took away the vodka, and went to grab one of his own shirts to give to him. 'Here, you're cold.' Frank put it on, while Gerard went to get ice cream from the fridge. 'This will help. And you can yell at me all you want if you need to vent.'

'I really don't feel like yelling.'

'That's okay. I'm still here.'

'You want to watch a movie?' If that was going to help, he'd do it. He sat next to him – keeping a safe distance – while Frank chose a movie. He finally decided on Finding Nemo, but he kept talking throughout the movie, telling Gerard about Bob, and crying. Gerard comforted him, patting him in the back, but Frank cuddled next to him, and fell asleep.

Gerard waited until the movie was over to walk him back to his bed so he could sleep comfortable, and when before Gerard turned around to go to his room, Frank turned around to kissed him in the lips, slipping his tongue in a little. 'Thanks for being a friend.' And he got under the covers.

Fuck.