Frank stood in the kitchen at work that Tuesday, staring at nothing, his eyes completely unfocused, while he waited for his coffee to be ready. Frank had his mug set on the counter, waiting patiently for there to be enough coffee for him to pour out, he was irritated. Generally irritable to be perfectly honest, but he was trying not to let that show. He was at work and he knew not to bring personal-life to work, even if a part of his personal life now tied itself to a certain someone in the office.

"Morning," Frank heard, snapping out of his thoughts to see Derek walking into the kitchen. He smiled, not really in the mood for conversations today, he couldn't let it show either. He went to stand near the coffee machine, hoping and praying to God that Derek wasn't going to attempt to take any coffee before him, "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Frank lied, he knew that it was easier to tell Derek that he was okay rather than going into why he hadn't wanted to get out of bed this morning. Avoiding it and partially going into denial was so much easier. He smiled at Derek, hiding the truth, Frank grabbed the pot, pouring the caffeinated elixir into his coveted 'Indiana Jones' mug.

"Good weekend?" Derek asked, going through the usual Monday morning work place chit chat that he always did, except he was doing it on a Tuesday, having had the day off yesterday. Frank was used to this though. It was like general office banter everywhere.

"Yeah," Frank nodded, sipping on his coffee, thankful for the caffeine he was now putting into his body. And the answer was done; the morning ritual of questioning was complete and everyone could go about their business now.

"I guessed you'd probably had a good weekend after I saw you on Saturday morning," Derek spoke idly, pouring himself a coffee into his plain green mug. Frank looked at him with a frown, trying his best to feign confusion. It had to be a complete coincidence that Derek was mentioning the morning after a night where Frank had had sex with his boss. Derek was just making conversation; he wasn't onto anything at all, "You looked wrecked but way too floaty and happy. Turning up to work in the same clothes I saw you in on Friday."

Frank's cheeks went bright pink. Frank had remained on cloud nine for the majority of Saturday, his sore ass being the reminder of Gerard fucking him. He didn't think that anyone would notice when he turned up in the same black pants, white shirt, and suspenders combo that he wore on Friday. Frank shrugged, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, come on," Derek gave Frank a knowing look, not falling for the bullshit answer he had been given, "It was so obvious, I just didn't want to mention it in front of Gerard or anyone else."

Frank blushed, looking away from Derek, hoping that he really wasn't that easy to read on Saturday morning. Gerard had been completely unreadable, dressed sharply in a suit as usual; he didn't look like he had just rolled out of bed after sex. Frank, however, must have looked questionable if Derek 'Mary Jane' Zanetti had picked up on it.

"So, a good night was had, huh?" Derek winked at him, making Frank look away, trying to hide the blush that gave away his answer. Of course, it had been a good night. The day had started off good, too, but it was just the shit that got sandwiched in between that brought Frank down. Gerard however had been the perfect distraction: the perfect and irresistible sex God that Frank had had between his thighs. His whole view on sex had been completely ripped apart and pieced back together in a whole new way. Frank had never known about the wonders of being a bottom, just how good it felt to actually receive instead of giving. Gerard had shone a whole new light onto Frank that left him speechless and completely taken aback.

"It was alright." Frank shrugged casually, trying not to give away how fucking peachy he was over what had happened.

"So, you and lover-boy rekindled the romance?" Derek suggested, making Frank frown at his words, his head jerking back as he swallowed a harsh sip of coffee.

"What're you talking about?"

"You and... What's his name? Your boyfriend with all the patterns and flowers." Derek answered, making Frank realize that he had completely the wrong end of the stick. At least Derek hadn't somehow worked out what had actually happened over the weekend.

"Ryan?" Frank said his name, the word feeling alien on his tongue after having not talked about him for a month. Derek clearly had no idea that they had broken up. Frank snorted, "You think I was with Ryan?"

"Weren't you?" Derek queried, looking confused, "I know you guys were having trouble in paradise, but I thought you two had patched things up. Hence the whole 'turning up to work looking like you buttered the biscuit."

"What?"

"Ooh, biscuits," Derek muttered under his breath and he set his coffee down, bending to open one of the cabinets, scanning the contents. Frank watched Derek rifled through the wheat-thins and the boxes of bland cereal, quirking an eyebrow as Derek muttered about wanting a snack. He pouted, closing the small door before he stood up and pulled a small silver-foil packet from his pocket. He ripped it open, stuffing an entire Oreo into his mouth with a happy hum. Frank's eyebrows rose in surprise, sipping his coffee when Derek spoke, "You didn't take a trip to Pound Town?"

"What? Where?" Frank frowned as Derek picked up his mug, dipping an Oreo into his coffee.

"Jeez, square." Derek snorted, "I mean 'sex', new kid."

Frank went pink and looked down, "Oh, uh..."

"Well?"

"No, I wasn't with Ryan," Frank said, shaking his head, "We broke up about a month ago."

"Shit, Frank," Derek hissed, chewing through his third cookie in less than two minutes, "I just thought- Fuck, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," Frank waved a hand at him, "It's fine. I'm better off without him anyway."

"So, you met someone else?" Derek raised an eyebrow, and a quirk of a knowing smile, at him. So far from the truth but so spot-on with the fact that Frank had actually got laid, "Please tell me that it wasn't just Krispy Kreme that did some creaming this weekend."

Frank opened his mouth to answer, thinking something up in his head, but whatever he came up with didn't seem believable. Derek would probably see through whatever he told him, thinking that he was hiding something. Plus the person that had walked into the kitchen sent Frank's brain to a halt, slamming on the brakes so hard he was sure he had cerebral whiplash.

"Good morning, gentlemen," Gerard said brightly, looking between Derek and Frank while he grabbed his usual black work mug from the dish-rack, "How are we all doing this morning?"

"Not too bad," Derek answered, drinking more of his coffee while Frank just stood in complete silence, looking into his mug, wishing that he could just dive in and hide from the awkward situation.

"How are you this morning, Frank?" Gerard turned, watching Frank who was trying to hide the pink tinge on his cheeks. Frank swallowed as the memories flooded back, replacing every possible answer he had been trying to think of to say to Derek.

"I'm g-good," He stammered out, trying to hide his face behind his mug while he took a long drink, hoping that Gerard wasn't going to hang around for too long. The air was thick with tension that Frank swore he could easily cut it with a knife. The way Gerard was looking at him, it was enough to make Frank's stomach knot up. His heart hammered in his chest, much like it had done the other night. Not quite the same, but still, Gerard looking at him like that was enough to make Frank want to drop to his knees and give himself to his boss in front of Derek. The two of them now had a secret that no one in the office could know about, even though Frank wished that he could admit to someone that he was rather smitten. Gerard turned to look at Derek, giving Frank a moment to breathe.

"I hope I'm not interrupting something here," Gerard said, sensing himself that the air was a little different in the kitchen, "I only came in to get some coffee."

"Don't worry," Derek reassured him with a smile, "I'd just been asking Frank what he got up to over the weekend."

"Really?" Gerard conversed while pouring himself some coffee, his voice a perfectly feigned innocence of which Frank was envious. Gerard stirred sweetener into his coffee, "How was your weekend, boy?"

Frank wanted the ground to swallow him up then. If it wasn't bad enough that Derek was trying to stick his nose in, Gerard was now coming across like he knew nothing about what had happened between them. He was doing it on purpose like he was trying to get a reaction from Frank. Or maybe testing him to see if he let slip.

"Pretty sure someone got lucky over the weekend," Derek added in a sing-song, making Frank cough into his mug. Gerard turned, putting one foot over the other, leaning against the kitchen counter, getting in on the conversation. This clearly wasn't the kind of conversation to even have in front of someone's boss, let alone a boss with which Frank had swapped fluids. Frank really felt like he was internally flailing, not knowing how to answer or what to add in.

"I never said that I did." Frank panicked, trying to cover himself even though Gerard was looking at him knowingly.

"Did you?" Derek asked, scratching at one of his eyes, stretching his jaw before he took a sip of coffee. Frank knew that he was as high as a kite, like he usually was in the mornings and again after lunch. He had no idea how Derek could work when he was drugged up to that extent. It did explain why he was also constantly snacking, too. Derek always had some sort of trail-mix or chip in hand.

"Even if I did, I wouldn't just admit it at work." Frank wondered why Gerard wasn't saving him from this embarrassment. Did he enjoy watching Frank squirm over Derek's need-to-know? Gerard had nothing to worry about because Frank knew to keep his mouth shut. Frank glanced at Gerard, hoping that he would throw him a limb, but he never did. Frank saw the slight nod Gerard gave him from behind his mug. Clearly he had said the right thing. If only Gerard would step in to help, stop him from having to cope with Derek all by himself.

"Fine, whatever," Derek responded flatly, realizing that Frank wasn't going to dish the dirt, and as he left, he added, "I was only making conversation with you. You don't have to get all high-and-mighty over it."

Frank immediately breathed a sigh of relief when Derek was out of earshot, setting his mug of coffee down on the counter. He leaned back, running his hands through his hair while Gerard kept an eye on him. He looked up at the tall man who was lounging casually beside him, "Thanks for saving me."

"Oh, I was implicitly sure that you didn't need any saving," Gerard told him, smoothing a hand down the black jacket he was wearing, picking off a piece of lint before flicking it away, "You held your own very well with Derek."

"Would have been nice for you to step in and save me from that," Frank muttered, drinking more of his coffee, breaking eye contact from Gerard, "Y'know, clearly you could see I was uncomfortable."

"I'm pretty sure you can hold your own, even in the most uncomfortable of situations," Gerard said cryptically. The way he spoke making Frank's stomach plummet. The feeling he had gotten so used to, only more intense now after they had been together. Frank swallowed when Gerard stepped closer to him in the kitchen, mouth going dry because Gerard looked beyond gorgeous today and Frank was having a hard time holding it together in his head. Remembering how Gerard had implied that there would be 'another time'. How Frank wanted it, wanted Gerard, even when he looked serious. That was a look that made Frank's toes curl in his work shoes, losing complete control over any decent thought in his head.

"I, uh," Frank started, frowning to himself. He wanted to bring up what had happened between them in the most discreet of ways. He hoped that what Gerard had done to him wasn't just a 'pity fuck' because he had been sad and couldn't stop crying. He had no idea why he was hoping that his boss was going to want something more with him when he knew that 'workplace' relationships didn't exactly pan out, but this was different. Or at least it felt different to him. He drained his mug as though it were a shot of tequila, hoping for a smidgen of Dutch courage before he spoke, "I actually wanted to talk to you about the, uh, the other night."

"What about it?" Gerard asked, his tone so inclined and inflected with nonchalance as though he had no clue to the subject of Frank's statement.

"Well..." Frank started, feeling anxious but at the same time, he knew that he shouldn't have been nervous. Yes, there was the possibility that what happened between them was nothing more than a 'pity fuck', but Frank swore that there was more to it. He wanted there to be more to it because he really fucking liked the guy. They connected in some way even without sex. Gerard got Frank's weird humor and they often shared conversations that had Fran in stitches after work, they definitely had chemistry between them and now Frank knew they were physically compatible.

"Well?"

"I wanna talk about what happened on Friday because, well, I don't know about you...but stuff like that doesn't tend to just happen to me," He carried on, keeping an eye on the kitchen doorway just in case anyone came in, "And it happened- We happened and I just- I wanna know what it means. Wouldn't you want to know if it happened to you?"

"What I really want to know right now," Gerard spoke once Frank had finished, "Is why you're still here."

Frank blinked dumbly, shocked about how Gerard had pretty much ignored what he had said. Gerard had glazed over the small moment in the kitchen where Frank had dared to open up his heart just a fraction. Frank opened his mouth to say something, try and bring Gerard back on track, but it all kind of died inside of him. His confidence waned, and the fact that Gerard just brushed it away so easily, it knocked him back a bit, wondering if he had just picked the wrong time to bring it up.

"I-I don't understand," Frank whispered, looking at Gerard, puzzled. He was here because he had to be here; that was how 'work' worked. Gerard looked at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. Frank swallowed, "I'm here to work, sir?"

Gerard rolled his eyes, shaking his head, "Have you forgotten what was happening today?"

Of course, Frank hadn't forgotten what was happening today. That was the whole reason why Frank was down in the dumps with a constant rain cloud over his head. Today was the day of Jamia's funeral. It was one of the reasons why Frank had dressed in his black suit, paying respects from afar because, for one thing, he knew he wasn't strong enough to even consider going to the funeral, and also, he was pretty sure that he wasn't welcome. Having not been one of Jamia's parent's favorites, he hadn't received an invite to the service. He had only heard about it through social media; he knew where it was happening and what time it was happening. God knows why Frank had even mentioned it to Gerard in the first place when he found out on Saturday but, in a concoction of emotions and word vomit, he told him. Now here he was, reminding Frank of the fact.

"No way I could forget," Frank sighed, washing his mug, "I know what's happening today."

"So, are you going?" Gerard queried, checking the time on his watch, "You need to leave now if you want to get to the service on time."

"Yeah," Frank trailed off, drying his hands, "I think it's probably better if I just pay my respects from a distance, sir."

"Frank, you have to go," Gerard responded, his voice abhorred, "Don't you think it would be rude to not go? Not pay your respects to your dear friend?"

"Trust me, if I was wanted at the funeral, and I was strong enough to go through with it, I would go," Frank reassured Gerard, turning to face his boss, "But, I'm not wanted there and I know very fucking well that I wouldn't cope with it. Unless you want me coming back an emotional wreck, having been told to leave the moment I'm spotted by her witch of a mother."

"Then you go and stand at the back. Pay your respects to your friend," Gerard told him, finishing his coffee in one mouthful, "I will go with you if you want."

"What?" Frank stuttered out, his eyes wide. He must have misheard.

"I will go with you to the funeral. I will be there for you if it gets too much, okay?" Gerard clarified quickly, "You cannot miss this because I, for one, know that you will regret it later on."

"You sure about that?"

"Just get your coat and meet me at my car," Gerard instructed firmly, "We don't want to be late now, do we?"

"No, sir," Frank answered, already feeling his emotions starting to build up inside of him. Getting through today without going to the funeral was going to be hard enough for Frank, but now he was going. He had no idea how he was going to cope, even if he did have Gerard by his side to help him through it.

~

All the while Frank sat next to Gerard in his car, he kept telling himself in his head that he was going to be strong enough to do this, especially seeing as he wasn't doing this alone. The little voice that kept telling him that he wasn't going to be able to do it. This was going to be the biggest mistake he had made.

"Are you okay?" Gerard asked, snapping Frank out of his daze, pulling himself from staring aimlessly out of his window, watching all the scenery go past as they drove through Englewood toward the Trinity Lutheran Church where the service was being held.

"I'm good." Frank lied, not wanting to open up; that was a dangerous thing to do when the barrier that was holding his emotions back was already paper-thin. Weakening more and more the closer they got to the church. His eyes were already prickling with tears, threatening to spill over.

"Why do I find that hard to believe?" Gerard commented, looking at Frank from over the sunglasses he had put on, eyeing him when he turned.

"Because we're on our way to a funeral," Frank said pointedly, "I really don't think I can do this."

"I know you can. You're stronger than you give yourself credit," Gerard spoke confidently, giving Frank a soft and knowing smile. He didn't return it, finding it hard to believe that he was what Gerard claimed, He looked out of the window as they went passed a Country Club, his eyes glancing to the left when Gerard spoke again in earnest, "Plus, I am here for you, boy."

"You didn't have to come."

"And if I didn't come then you wouldn't have altogether," Gerard responded, "You would have stayed in the office, missing out on saying goodbye to your friend."

Frank ignored what Gerard said when he saw that they were coming up to the church, the Tween Tot nursery was on Frank's left and he let out a whimper, remembering that it was one of the options that he had helped Jamia research on for her baby when she had to go back to work. His heart sunk in his chest because there was a part of him that hoped that the car journey wouldn't end. Gerard's driver pulled the car into the lot at the side of the church, parking in an available space in the corner. Frank really wasn't feeling okay just turning up to a funeral when he wasn't even invited, with his boss who had nothing to do with Jamia. He was so sure that they were going to stick out like sore thumbs at the back of the church. Part of him wanted to stop Gerard when he unclipped his seatbelt, tell him not to get out of the car, but it was too late. Frank didn't act and Gerard had already climbed out, shutting his door before walking round to Frank's side, opening and holding it open for him.

"Good job you didn't wear one of your brighter suits today," Frank commented as he reluctantly got out, watching Gerard shut the door behind him while he pushed his hands into his pants pockets, trying to stop himself from fiddling in an attempt to calm his nerves and emotions.

"I'll have you know that a lot of funerals don't have to follow such somber rules," Gerard spoke, buttoning up his jacket before following Frank towards the quaint face-brick church that also shared its premises with the Montessori House School. Gerard adjusted his glasses, his auburn hair shining in the morning sun and fluttering with the chilly breeze, "If it is requested then people can wear bright colors, treating the funeral as more of a celebration of life than a loss."

"Swear to God, you have an answer for everything," Frank muttered under his breath, shaking his head. They got up to the white doors of the church and Frank stood there because they were then minutes late. Standing out in the cold seemed like a much better idea than walking in to have however many mourners all turning around to see who had turned up late. Gerard was already opening the door, waving a hand for Frank to go in but he froze on the concrete steps, his knees shaking when he heard the people inside singing a mournful hymn. He stared at his shoes, "I don't know if I can do this, sir..."

"Of course, you can," Gerard reassured him, resting a hand on his shoulder, "I'm here for you, too. Come on, before you miss more of her service."

The two of them entered the church quietly, taking note of how they had walked in while everyone was standing and singing Amazing Grace. All of a sudden, Frank felt like he was completely out of his depth. Every fiber in his body was telling him to turn on his feet and walk out, but Gerard was behind him, edging him closer to the back pew. One hand on Frank's arm, holding him while they finally slid into the seats. Frank immediately sat down, not feeling strong enough to remain standing while everyone else sang. His chest felt tight, restricting him in the most painful way possible, he kept his head down in case anyone looked around and saw him. Gerard sat down on his right, handing him a memorial card that he couldn't even bring himself to inspect. His eyes were stinging so much, Frank screwed them shut, trying to breathe while he bowed his head down.

When Frank felt like he was strong enough, having taken a moment to compose himself, he looked up. He had no idea who had actually been invited to the funeral. Not many people were there, a small handful closer to the front. Thankfully, no one had spotted them. Gerard seemed more incognito than Frank, given that he hadn't taken his sunglasses off since they had entered the church. He watched over the small service, having set the memorial card down next to him on the pew. He took to fiddling with his hands, trying to keep himself calm while the hymn eventually came to an end and everyone sat back down.

Frank really did hope that no one would turn around and see him now that they weren't focussing on singing. He gazed over the backs of heads in front of him, seeing if he could see anyone that he recognized. Of course, he spotted Jamia's mother and father right at the front beside her younger brother Evan. The whole family sat close together on the front pew, other family members all behind them. Close family friends. Friends of Jamia's.

He hated how the whole family seemed to be against him when he had never done anything wrong. He had never upset their daughter in any way and if anything, he had probably been there for her more times than her own relatives. He had been cast aside, left out, and looked down upon because he had been this 'punk brat' the moment that he met Jamia and became friends with her. They had never liked him much because of the way he appeared. Their daughter becoming friends with a guy whose jeans needed serious repairs done on the knees, tattoos, and piercings to add insult to injury. They honestly had judged his book by its cover and never bothered to find out that the reason Jamia had become such good friends with him. Jamia had told them time and time again that he was a sweetheart underneath all the tattoos and piercings and his 'shitty garbage' punk appearance.

Frank was done looking over who had turned up to pay their respects to Jamia, having only spotted a few relatives and friends of Jamia's that he knew, he felt okay with hiding at the back until the service was over. It was probably going to be a good idea if the two of them ducked out before the service ended and everyone poured out for the burial. Frank already knew that there was no way, in the name of absolute fuck, that he was going to be strong enough to watch his best friend being buried. The idea alone made his heart ache and his chest grow tighter. He had even avoided looking towards the coffin at the front with the sheaf of lilies sitting atop it. Bringing himself to look at the coffin was too much; proof that she was actually gone. A life taken too soon; she had just given birth to her beautiful daughter. It wasn't right and Frank couldn't get over how unfairly she had been taken away. That tore him up from the inside out, making him inhale shakily, trying so hard to hold it together while Jamia's mother stood to say a few words, barely holding it together.

Frank screwed his eyes shut, trying to block out what was being said because, as much as he was here to pay his respects and say his goodbye in his own quiet way at the back of the church, hearing someone talk about how Jamia was loved so much, it ricocheted through him. He had loved her so much. She was his best friend who had got him through so much. She had always been there for him as he had for her. This was so unfair and Frank couldn't even stop himself when he thought back to one of the last times she had been there for him.