SUPERSTAR

CALIFORNIA HERE WE COME

'Good evening, San Francisco!' Frank said, and walked off the stage.

Taking Back Sunday were the last ones to play, so he and Gerard had the rest of the night for themselves. They hid in an empty room, and made out on the table, since it was the only thing there. 'Fuck, I hate this jumpsuit,' Gerard said, trying to undress the shorter man under him, but getting frustrated with his outfit.

'Here.' Frank got up and quickly took it off, and then got back to it.

They tried to be as quick as possible, afraid they'd get caught, and went out for a cigarette. Soon, Laura Jane Grace, who was also touring with them for the first leg of the tour, came out and asked Frank for one. 'Hey –,' she said. 'Me and some friends are heading out to the bar. I was wondering if you guys wanted to go.' She didn't need to say what kind of bar for them to know. They were in San Francisco after all.

Gerard's face went red, wondering how did she know. He hadn't exactly come out publicly, though there were always rumors. Frank just laughed. 'What – you knew?'

'What? That you're gay or that you and Frankie are fucking?'

That made Frank react too. How did she know? 'Wait –'

'C'mon, guys!' she continued. 'You haven't been subtle. Everyone has seen you running to the restroom together, or how Frank stands by the side of the stage when you're singing, and looks at you with heart eyes.' Frank blushed, hiding his face with his hands. 'It's actually pretty cute.'

Gerard was smiling too.

'Well, shall we?'

It felt good to be able to hold hands now that she – and everybody in the crew, apparently – knew about them.

The bar was rather small, but Laura got them a VIP table where they could see the drag show. Gerard kept his arm around Frank's shoulder the whole time, without even realizing, and Frank loved that.

They didn't dance, but Frank wrapped his arms around Gerard's waist, and leaned his head on his shoulder, hugging him for the longest time. After getting drunk, they fucked in the restroom, which was their thing, apparently.

For that night, it felt like nothing else mattered. They didn't have to be scared of what people thought. No one else there did. They could hold hands and kiss and hug.

'So – you're out?' Gerard asked while they were smoking outside.

'To my family, my ex-wife. Some friends back home. Laura.' He paused to blow out smoke. 'I've always known. But it wasn't anybody's business. And I was married to a woman, so people didn't care. Then I divorced, and when I first went out with a guy, I had to tell them.'

'Did they got mad, or judge you –'

'Some people. Not the ones that mattered though.' He noticed Gerard looked anxious, so he took his hand. 'You don't have to tell anyone if you don't feel like it. I know it's scary. I'm scared too.'

'What if someone saw us?'

'We don't have to give anyone any explanations. We can ignore the topic if it comes out, say that we were hanging out with friends, and it's San Francisco.'

'I had my tongue in your mouth!' Gerard yelled.

'We can say we were drunk, that we were making a political statement.'

'In a gay bar?'

Frank giggled. 'You're right. But we don't have to say anything. I'm sure no one even saw us.' He passed him the cigarette they were sharing. 'And this doesn't have to be anything if you don't want it to be. If that's what you're scared of.' It hurt him a little to say that, but he felt like he had to.

'It's not that – it's just, I don't know if I'm ready. Not for this, but everything. Being in the spotlight again.' Frank got closer to hug him. 'It was a whole different thing to date while being just Gerard, the comic book writer. I know things are going to change now, and I don't know if I'm ready.'

Does that mean he wants to date me, Frank thought.

'We don't have to be anything,' Frank repeated, biting his tongue because he did want them to be something. Before he could say another word, Gerard pushed him to the wall, and kissed the fuck out of him, not caring about people seeing them.

They headed back to the venue, and Gerard dragged him to his bus, where they continued making out in his bunk.

***

They arrived in LA the next morning.

Frank had a million texts from Cara asking where the hell he was, and a few more from
Tucker. I told her you were in Gerard's bus. You owe me.

He didn't reply.

It was strange waking up in a bus that wasn't his. It was all so different, and people gave him looks.

Then Gerard showed up from behind. 'Let's go get some breakfast.'

They found a diner just a couple blocks away from where they were parked, and walked in hand in hand. So I guess we're doing this, Frank thought. They ordered waffles, and while Gerard went to the restroom, Frank texted Cara that he was with Gerard. I'm sorry about last night, he texted. I forgot to tell you, I fell asleep.

They ate in silence, but looking at each other every two minutes.

Then, they headed back to their buses, to get ready to that night's show at the Roxy. 'Hey –' Gerard stopped him. 'We have tomorrow off before we head for Vegas. You wanna stay over at my house?'

'For real?' Gerard nodded. 'Hell, yeah.'

***

After getting yelled at by Cara, and a sold out show at the Roxy, Gerard was waiting for him outside. He had gotten them a cab, and they were off to Gerard's place.

His house was huge, Frank noticed. Covered with plants and books.

Though he didn't see much since the moment they walked in, Gerard had him against the wall and taking off his clothes.

No more restrooms and tables. They could finally fuck in a real bed.

And Gerard's was huge and comfy as fuck.

Frank could finally moan as loud as possible when Gerard came inside him, without fearing getting caught.

Then, Gerard got the weed out, and they smoked and giggled and talked about dumb stuff, made up stories and songs, and Frank had never felt so good in the longest time.

They didn't even remember fucking one last time before falling asleep. But waking up to Gerard's pale naked body next to him was a whole new experience he wanted more of.