Frank’s head was pounding. His mouth felt like someone had poured sawdust in it, and his eyes were gritty. He knew the second he opened his eyes that it was a really bad idea, since the room he was in was flooded with light.
...the room he was in. Frank shot up, and immediately groaned when he felt his stomach heaving.
“Sleeping beauty’s awake!” someone chirruped to his left.
He recognized that voice, he knew that voi-
Ray?
“Turn off the fucking sun, Toro,” he growled, settling himself up again and trying to keep the bile down. The light in the room dimmed and he opened his eyes a little bit to see he was on a bed in Ray’s room. “The fuck am I doing here?” he croaked.
Ray grinned at him. “I’d forgotten what a bitch you are when you’re hungover. You could at least thank me for giving your sorry ass a place to sleep, you know.”
Frank flipped him off. “I have a place to sleep. My room. Why didn’t you take me there, Toro?”
“Please. I could barely get you to the car, you dick, I wasn’t gonna go to your place where I had to drag you up the fucking stairs.” Ray scoffed. “Of the three of us, my room was, unfortunately, the only one on the ground floor so it was decided that we’d dump you here.”
Frank scowled at him. “Please stop being so goddamn cheery. Do you have any aspirin?”
“Way ahead of you. It’s to your left.” Frank forced his eyes open entirely and gulped down the two aspirin. Then he looked up to Ray who was practically vibrating with energy and grinning like a loon.
“Seriously, Toro, the fuck’s wrong with you?” Frank rasped, raising an eyebrow. Ray beamed at him.
“I’m just in fucking awe, man. Killing two birds with one stone like that, fucking amazing!” he laughed, “You should have fucking seen Jamia’s face when we found you with your hand down Way’s jeans.” He cackled loudly, “I thought she was gonna burst! And then Way’s face when Bob laid things down for him, oh my god, it was truly a moment to relish!” His face looked blissful.
Frank just stared. Two birds with one stone? Jamia? His fucking hand down-- Oh. Oh shit. Oh shit.
His head shot up and he had to force down bile again. When his vision stopped watering and he was pretty sure he could talk without throwing up, he looked at Ray again.
“Ray, what did Bob say?” he asked urgently, ignoring Ray’s partially concerned and partially confused look. He didn’t fucking care if he acted as though he had lost his mind, he had to know what Bob had said and he had to know right now.
Ray shrugged. “Just the way things are? That we’d always known he was a faggot, that you’d never hang out with him, y’know, for real.” He snorted, “It was pretty hilarious actually, He looked all fucking crushed-- Frank?”
Frank elbowed his way past Ray and into the bathroom and emptied the contents of his stomach in the toilet bowl.
+++
On Monday, Frank cornered Gerard at his locker. Or rather, he tried to.
“Fucking get your hands off me!” Gerard bit out, his voice uneven, yanking his arm out of Frank’s grasp and stalking off, through the door and onto the school courtyard. He walked on, Frank trying to catch up.
“Gerard, I-”
Gerard whirled around before Frank could say something. “No.” he snapped, his eye flashing dangerously. “I don’t want to fucking hear it.” He shook his head and laughed a little, condescendingly, as if mocking himself, “I should have known.”
