It was at the back of his mind: a whisper, constant and with no foreseeable end, but easily ignored with a little effort, Frank just wasn't sure what to make of it, of course. The whisper in question was an echo of Gerard's words to him, and what they meant, and what sense they had behind them, and how Frank could possibly look Max in the eye anymore, but he shut it down, because the first thing he'd heard when he'd gotten in that night was an 'I love you', as the taller man pulled him into a kiss, and muttered something about a surprise, to make it up to him that Frank hadn't given much attention.

The shorter man only cared for the hug and the closeness and the way it made his heart flutter: he focused on that, determined in the fact that Gerard was long, and simply resorted to smiling like an idiot as he focused on drowning out the whispers from the back of his mind that argued otherwise, letting Max lead him out the house and into his car and drive him down through the night: highways he didn't recognise and a destination Frank didn't care for.

His head was in the hum of the vehicle and the way for once Max hadn't put on the radio to fill the silence, because there was none; he was all words, and all happy ones, and Frank wasn't much listening, and could make little sense of what was leaving his boyfriend's mouth, but they were happy kinds of sounds, and Frank reckoned that right then, right there, in the passenger seat, everything might be alright.

Within time, not too long, fifteen minutes perhaps, the two found themselves in a car park in a place that Frank didn't recognise, and he only seemed to come to grips with reality as Max urged him to get out of the car, placing a hand on his shoulder, and asking with sincerity as to whether the boy beside him was alright.

Frank was stumped in regards to his answer, because he was alright, he was so fucking destined to be alright: it was his one goal in life, the one thing that had to be, so Gerard could be wrong and everything could be alright, but Frank was absolutely by no means happy. And happy and alright were indeed similar words, but they most certainly didn't mean the same thing.

"I'm alright." And Frank managed it without a lie, sitting up straight in his seat and meeting his reflection in the front mirror: sleepy eyes and skin too pale, and a smile on Max's face beside him, and he knew right then that he didn't want to be here, to be out, but Max wanted that more than anything, and there was this obligation to keep him happy, to prove a point, to keep everything okay, to prove Gerard wrong, to ensure that nothing of the like would happen again.

"You look a little weirded out, Frank." Max noted, his eyes all sincere and his words stern as he met the younger man's gaze.

"I'm tired." Frank admitted, and it wasn't far off the truth anyway.

"You'll be fine after a couple of drinks, and I think you'll really like this band anyway. My friend Danny got us tickets, you know Danny, with the..." And that was the very point that Frank stopped listening, and nodded instead as the two got out of the car, and he let Max take his hand and lead him inside, to a venue that was immediately too dark and too loud.

The room was perhaps everything Frank despised in that moment, but he put that aside and focused on Max's hand in his and what that meant, and how he was lucky, and how he had this chance to make everything okay, because everything would be okay, and of course, with words that Frank didn't quite hear, in time, Max's hand escaped his, and he found himself pushed against the back wall of the venue, alone, and not entirely full conscious of the world around him: it was nothing physical, it was simply a matter of him being too caught up in his own head, in shutting the 'truth', Gerard's truth, out, and ensuring it'd all be okay, and Frank really couldn't breathe, and he really needed a smoke, and he wasn't at all sure as to how on earth the two were supposed to go together, but he pushed such thoughts aside and made his way for the backdoor and an alleyway illuminated by streetlamps and a half opened door.

Frank cared little for the darkness that surrounded him, of course, and focused on leaning back against the wall and putting a cigarette to his lips as he let the world fade out and away around him, embracing the comfort of nicotine and the reassurance of solitude, because he'd needed to be alone tonight, or even just with Max, just a night in, just a simple thing, and not this, but he felt forced to enjoy this, forced not to appear ungrateful, because he was perhaps scared more of what Gerard would think than what Max would do if he upset him.

Gerard mattered more.

Frank began to ponder the statement, and what the hell it could possibly mean, because Gerard was just a guy, just a friend, and Max was his long term boyfriend, and it had been one mistake, and Gerard just had a way with words and a knack when it came to poisoning Frank's mind with doubt, and it was giving Frank one hell of a headache when it came to forcing himself to shut it out.

Because he needed to shut it out, because this cigarette was all he had before he made it back inside and faced the world and a crowd he couldn't help but loathe - that was of course the logical option, but as Frank soon came to conclude, it most certainly wasn't the only one, as he stubbed his cigarette out and grabbed his cellphone, pressing the call button on Gerard's contact and holding his breath.

-

"You're being all protective, it's weird." Frank let out a sigh, taking his jacket off and letting Gerard take it from him and hang it up on a hook... a hook in Gerard's house.

Because that was exactly where Frank had found himself - Gerard's house, and all it had taken was a phone call, a cigarette outside, and a car picking him up, again, Gerard's car, it was again, weird, but it was apparent that Gerard didn't seem to think so at all.

"Not really." He shrugged it off, reinforcing the apparent as he took his own jacket off, and messed with his hair in the mirror before turning back to face Frank. "You didn't want to be there, you wanted to talk to me, and you're not there anymore and you're talking to me: I'm just trying to help."

"Gerard, come on, just... you know what I told you: you know it was a mistake, you know it's not going to happen again, come on, he even took me out to make it up to me." Frank exclaimed, however Gerard didn't seem to hear a word of it, simply making his way into the kitchen, and leaving Frank both awkward and confused as he followed him.

"And you hated it." Gerard continued, minutes later, drumming his fingertips on the kitchen countertop as Frank watched from across the room: feeling alien in Gerard's house, not that the older man wasn't making every effort to be welcoming, of course. "You hated it, and you wanted to leave. Why didn't you just tell him that? Why is that it's easier to tell me that than him?"

"Well, I just feel like an asshole doing it, that's all," Frank stepped forward, meeting Gerard's gaze, "he put all this effort into this apology, into making me feel better, and then I tell him that I don't like it and I want to go home... that makes me out to be the asshole."

"Nothing can make you out to be the asshole, Frank, you're not the one who hit him." Gerard was insistent, and Frank wondered if he'd ever just let it go, of course, knowing how stubborn Gerard was, and would always be, it was seriously unlikely. "Anyway, how is calling me and getting me to pick you up any different?"

"I didn't ask you to pick me up." Frank made it explicitly clear, narrowing his eyes, and over-emphasising his words, "I just... yeah... okay... maybe I just... this is better... but anyway, he's probably not even going to notice I'm gone if I just say I left early or whatever, make some bullshit up, he'll believe it, hopefully."

"You shouldn't have to lie to him, Frank." Gerard let out a sigh, wondering if he'd ever get his point across. "You shouldn't have to put up with him at all, and you really don't have to, you know? You can just-"

"Gerard, I value your opinion, well I try to, but please shut the fuck up: it's not your relationship, and I reckon I want to think about something in the world that isn't Max for even just ten minutes." Frank groaned, making his way over to Gerard, "I know you're just trying to look out for me, you're just being a good friend, and you know what? Thank you for letting me go over to yours. You have a really nice house, by the way."

"Thanks." Gerard laughed a little, "what do you even want to do? I'm not exactly a master of entertainment, and well, you deserve only the best, of course."

Frank blushed, shaking his head frantically, "stop it," he paused, thinking for a moment, "I'm easily pleased, I guess, I mean, I like you anyway, so I reckon just shitty TV, and shittier conversation- I hope you can make a decent coffee, though."

"Of course I can, what the hell kind of asshole do you take me for?" Gerard exclaimed, seeming to be genuinely offended, as he reached up towards the cupboard and grabbed two mugs and switched the kettle on, before turning to Frank with that stupid lopsided smile on his face. "What kind of shitty TV do you want to watch?"

"I really couldn't care less, I have the attention span of like five minutes, I'll probably be making stupid remarks through whatever it is, and just generally being annoying..." He let out a sigh, "I'm good at that: being annoying."

"Nah." Gerard shook his head, "you're not annoying." He smiled, glancing over at Frank momentarily, before returning to the very serious matter that was making coffee. "I don't even know what I'd want to watch, maybe just a chat is better, you can make stupid remarks about me if you want."

"Why would I want to do that?" Frank let out a sigh, stepping closer to Gerard, "I actually like you, you know? I think that's pretty weird, because I did not get the best first impression of you, I can tell you that."

"What impression was that, exactly?" He asked, pouring hot water into the mugs and stirring with an intense vigour.

"Just from kids, they brought you up, something about you being a stubborn prick, and some comment about you acting like you have a paintbrush lodged up your ass at all times." And Gerard genuinely laughed at that one, which caught Frank just a little by surprise.

"What?" Gerard exclaimed, handing Frank his coffee. "Careful, it's hot-"

"No fucking shit." Frank rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

"I didn't have to make you coffee, be nice." Gerard smirked a little, grabbing his own mug, and gesturing to Frank, "come on," he added, before leading Frank into the living room, fumbling with the light switch, and successfully spilling a little his coffee as he did so, "fuck." Frank laughed at him, of course. "Asshole."

"Yeah, that's you." Frank smiled, putting the mug down on the coffee table and making some sort of dive for the sofa, and the fucking blanket, because Frank was in fact twelve.

Gerard just shook his head in disbelief, sitting down beside him, and sipping at his coffee a little, before placing the mug down on the coffee table beside Frank's. "What do you want to talk about then?" He began, turning to face Frank, who had pretty much completely wrapped himself up in the blanket, burrito style, of course, "fucking share the blanket, it's cold, and this is my house."

"Go put a jumper on." Frank grinned, but after a moment, threw the other end of the blanket somewhat vaguely in Gerard's direction. "There you go, happy now, are we?"

"Not really." He let out a sigh, leaning back against the sofa, and acknowledging the awkward gap between him and Frank as they sat under the blanket together. "You've totally got more blanket than me." He continued, his words overemphasised, and a smile practically glued to his lips.

"Well, come on, budge up then, asshole." Frank gestured to the space between them, and Gerard had about four heart attacks, before thinking 'fuck it', and just closing the gap between them. "Happy now?"

"I guess." Gerard let out a sigh, finding it just a little hard to breathe with Frank pressed up against him, and Jesus Christ, it was like he was fourteen or something, well, it wasn't like his lovelife had been all that exciting as of late, but whatever, he was still exceedingly pathetic.

And then when Gerard was content with dying right then and there, Frank just had to throw everything to shit and lean his head into Gerard's chest, muttering a, "you're still fucking warmer than me, you asshole," as he did so.

Gerard let out a giggle, trying his best to appear as if he wasn't finding it as hard to breathe as he was in reality, "well, that's because I'm hot, obviously." Gerard grinned, and Frank considered slapping him right then and there, but he didn't want his blanket and sort of vague 'platonic' cuddling privileges revoked.

"Tell me about yourself, Gerard." Frank said after a moment of silence, "you know so much about my fucking personal life, and I just know that you have a brother, and that you like cock - that's hardly anything worthwhile."

"Are you saying that cock isn't worthwhile, Frank I don't know what the fuck your middle name is Iero, what the hell is wrong with you?" Gerard looked at the younger man with severe concern, because such a thing was indeed concerning.

"Anthony." He let out a sigh, "my middle name is Anthony. And shut up because that's not what I meant. What's your middle name?"

"Arthur. Fucking Arthur...." Gerard groaned, rolling his eyes, "such a fucking shit name, I'm just glad it's only my middle name, you know?"

"So what would you have been called, you know if you could pick?" Frank asked, seeming to be genuinely interested in everything Gerard had to say, which was certainly new, because Gerard Way's social life really wasn't something to marvel at, at all.

"I don't know, probably something dumb and nerdy, from Star Wars or something, because yeah, I'm so cool."

"I think you're cool." Frank added, smiling up at him like he was a fifth grader.

"Really?" Gerard exclaimed, contorting his expression into one of disbelief.

"No, just kidding, you're a fucking nerd." Frank laughed his fucking head off, of course, moving away from Gerard to reach his coffee off the table, "but seriously, you're really important, maybe not cool, but thank you for existing, because your house is warm, and not some shitty club, and I fucking... I don't think he's even noticed I'm not there anymore."

"What the fuck is he doing then?" Gerard began, his tone somewhat cautionary, "I know you said you didn't want to talk about it, but-"

"It's okay, I fucking brought it up, didn't I?" Frank letting out a sigh, once again leaning into Gerard's side, just as platonically as before, of course. "I don't know, I wasn't really paying much attention, I just, I don't know, he was there, we were in a club, it was crowded, and at one point he stopped holding my hand, and I just... I went outside for a smoke after that, to clear my head... and I ended up calling you, I guess. I don't know why I did, honestly."

"Because I'm just that amazing, obviously, duh..." Gerard grinned at him, "but I'm sorry to say, if he fucking takes you out for like a date and then just randomly ditches you, Frank, you know I really don't like the guy, I just... how did this relationship even begin? What was ever good about it?"

"We met fucking years ago, it's very long term, I just rely on him a lot, I have no fucking clue what I'm doing like ninety percent of the time, and I feel like I need him to keep me together, and he's not bad looking at all. We met through mutual friends, and well, we went on dates, and dated, and it just... it's just Frank and Max... no one questions it, no one ever has - it's just a given thing, I can't imagine not being with him, and I don't quite know what to make of that."

"This is me questioning it." Gerard began, turning to face Frank, "I quite honestly think you need to too, because okay maybe you loved him before, when he wasn't an asshole, but do you still love him now? Is this the kind of relationship you want to be in, because you're not happy, you weren't happy with him tonight, and I bet that wasn't just one time, was it?"

"I love him though." And Frank meant it, even in the most ridiculous and unbelievable of circumstances, he did, and he would, "this is just his bad side, everyone has a bad side, bad days, perhaps lots of bad days... and it's not like I'm the perfect boyfriend either so... Gerard, can you just... can you just leave it? I'm sorry."

"It's fine." Gerard let out a sigh, forcing a smile, "shall we watch some shitty TV instead?"

"Sure." Frank let out a sigh, leaning back against the sofa and closing his eyes: doing everything to avoid the painfully obvious, and painfully truthful realisation that what Frank had wanted from Max: a night in, conversation, smiles, the sofa, coffee, TV, nonsense, but someone to make him smile, someone he cared about, someone who cared about him - he'd gotten all that from Gerard.

-

Hey pals how are you??? i hope u enjoyed this chapter & if u did votes and comments would be v cool much thanks!!! bye !!! bye !!! bye !!! :)