Frank woke up the next morning in a still-as-foul mood, his hand sticky with sweat as it clung to the now empty can of Cool Whip. He stared at it before scowling and setting it down on the ground. He grabbed the television remote and turned the screen off, stifling a yawn. The stretch in his jaw finally alerted him to the fact that his neck was killing him. He cringed at the pain in his spine from contorting himself on the sofa and carefully sat up, eyes still heavy and thick with sleep. He looked up at the clock on the wall beside the front door and scowled. It was only seven in the morning. Way too early to be fully functional or assimilated.

Frank let out a small whimper at the realization, at the sudden coming-around of what had transpired last night. Had they really fought over a damned can of whipped cream? Had he and his boyfriend really hit the dregs at the bottom of the barrel? Frank sighed as he mentally checked 'yes' and 'yes'. He sighed as he stood up slowly, his joints protesting at the stretch, his arms coming up to reach for the ceiling before he bent over and touched his toes. He stifled another yawn, his muscles sighing in relief as he straightened up.

Frank was also now waking up, he was also now trying to fathom whether or not he was still angry with Ryan- angry? Was he angry? Well, angry was a rather harsh word situationally. Frank would have to have said he was confused and annoyed more than angry. Confused as to why it was such a damn big deal for Ryan, annoyed at the way Ryan had acted and had not-so-brashly kicked him out of bed. Sure, Frank chose to sleep on the sofa, but it was only because he knew Ryan would cold-shoulder him and make it all the worse, like a huge crack dividing down the middle of their bed.

Frank carefully and quietly wandered back towards the bedroom, taking the stairs one at a time, noting which places to avoid for the loudest of creaks. The house was in total silence, which meant Ryan was most likely still asleep. Frank peered into the bedroom to see that Ryan was, in fact, comatose within the sheets. He had his back to the door, curls a-matte on his pillow like the dark chestnut roots of a tree. Frank sighed, scowling as he tip-toed into the bedroom and walked over to the bed, leaning over to climb in when he paused.

Frank usually never got hard in the mornings anymore, as though his body just knew after six years that Ryan wasn't the type for a morning session. Hell, Frank almost wept real and actual tears the one morning Ryan woke up, rolled over, and gave him a sloppy handjob. But this morning, Frank was still on the rebound- physically- from last night and it was evident that his body wanted some sort of release. Frank frowned at the back of Ryan's head and realized that maybe Ryan didn't deserve his dick, a laughable thought that Frank tried hard to push down, a smirk fighting its way onto his pierced lips.

Did Frank really want to get himself off in bed beside his unaware and sleeping boyfriend? Did he really want to stoop so low after the 'stunt' he pulled the night before? Frank was still hunched over, one leg lifted, when he looked down under his armpit at the shower behind him, contemplating one hell of a soap up. Was it the fact that it was a shower somehow making it seem less tacky, less wrong? Somehow the adage of some soap and water took away from the fact that Frank was trying to get himself off because he just didn't want to bother Ryan with his pesky problem. Or was Ryan the problem?

Frank pushed that thought aside almost as soon as it fell into his mind because no, he wasn't ready to think of his boyfriend that way. Frank straightened up and turned, undressing from his pajamas, tossing them in the hamper before he padded into their en-suite bathroom. Frank left the lights off, knowing it would lighten up outside soon enough, and he opened the shower door. He closed the bathroom door behind him before opening the faucet, turning the washer until the water was a decently scalding temperature. Frank grabbed a towel from the rail and flung it over the top of the shower before carefully stepping in.

He let out a small sigh, the hot water was like magic on his shoulders, unraveling knots in his flesh that he didn't even know he had. He looked down at his feet, closing his eyes as he carefully stepped back into the water and let it rain down on him. He could feel the heated torrents run down over his face and his front before he turned, facing the wall, drenching himself fully. He raised his head up for a moment before hanging it again, running a hand through his hair. It caught on a few knots, to say the least, and with Frank feeling as fired up as he was, he couldn't deny how the accidental tugs made his stomach flutter.

He sucked in a breath, his other hand itching as he ran it over his lower stomach, biting on his lip as he gave one more thought into whether or not this was going to be a slightly longer shower. The prospect of an orgasm being so close but so far would have tempted even the strongest of men- and Frank Iero was no Hercules when it came to sexual withdrawal. He felt his lip tremble at the prospect, giving one last glance at the closed bathroom door before he finally reached 'fuck it'.

Frank wrapped a hand around himself, whimpering quietly under his breath as the simple touch seemed to both relieve stress and tighten about sixty knots at once. Frank tightened his grip for a moment, sliding his wet palm up over his length and back down, his hand going back to cup his balls. He gasped softly, leaning back against the shower wall with his head. Frank opened his eyes, sucking in a short breath as his hand found it's way around his dick yet again. But no. Frank shook his head and straightened up, clearing his throat.

Frank frowned, grabbing his loofa and his shower gel from the caddy they had hung. He squirted some of the berry scented wash onto the grey washer and began furiously scrubbing his arms. He ran his sponge loofah over his chest, still scowling. He ran the loofa over his stomach, touching the base of his dick. He felt a spark of electricity in his veins and he looked down at his soapy skin, looking down at his dick still achingly hard. Frank tried again, his fingers stroking his dick slowly, moaning quietly. He felt each millimeter of touch made another notch in his already heated coil burn brighter.

Frank pulled away with a light gasp, whimpering as he looked at the door again with a guilted frown in his brows and a loofa in his hand, the other hand- sordid hand- behind him on the wall. Frank let out a groan, dropping his soaped up sponge, feeling it fall on his foot with a splotch as he wrapped a hand around his dick again, rougher than he had before, stroking quickly, catching himself off guard with a moan.

He looked down, his mouth hanging agape, his eyes glued to what he was currently busy with. He tightened his grip, his other hand raking on the tiles as he panted, his fingertips tingling. He felt the hot water on his skin as he carried on stroking, pumping. Frank let out a grunt, his free hand running over his ass when he froze. Did he really just consider it? Would he really be the one to do that to himself?

Oh yes. Frank mewled at the touch, his soaped up fingers tracing softly over his asshole, whimpering incessantly at the touch, at the slight burn that came with his teasing.

"Oh fuck- shit." Frank groaned to himself, picking up his pace as his skin began to heat up, his cheeks flushed brightly as they always did. Frank arched his back, his knees buckling as a shaky breath made its way from his panting lips, his rapidly rising and falling chest. Frank's eyes had yet to budge, still staring with a perverted fixation as he jerked himself off. He let out a shallow gasp, shuddering as the heat wormed its way into his nervous system.

Frank so badly wanted to make it last, so badly wanted to keep building his climax for as long as possible, draw out just how good he felt but he knew that it wouldn't last. It was just too good, it was just way too much from how his fingers were working, both pumping slick and plundering his asshole.

Frank hardly ever had the pleasure of Ryan in his asshole, either dick or fingers, and Frank had yet to ever experience a mouth on his hole; one of his greatest mysteries. Ryan would never in his wildest dreams think of something as vulgar as eating Frank out and barely let Frank do the same, his reasoning that if Frank did do it, he wouldn't kiss him for a week. Frank was already denied sex more than he cared to admit, the last thing he wanted was to have Ryan take away his plump, cherry lips. Frank would die. He let out a groan at the thought of Ryan's mouth, his knees shaking as he found himself standing up on his toes. A shuddering gasp leaving his chest as he finally remembered to breathe.

His orgasm was coming far too quick, his climax burning like a bright glowering stake in his lower belly. His gaze finally broke from his vulgar act, his eyes squeezed shut at just how good it felt. His head was tilted back as the hot water made him sweat even more than he already was, the steam curling against his tightened skin and in his lungs.

He moved his leg, his knee bent as he pushed a third finger in, crying out quietly at the stinging pain that shot into all the right places, pulling every knot and every coil tighter until finally, fucking finally it all unraveled inside of him. His hips rutted, fucking into his soaped-up palm as the release hit him right in the gut. He gasped out, moaning quietly in heavy, gasping moans as he came in heated, warm spurts that ran down over his knuckles to the water that circles at his feet. He could feel the exquisite electricity sparking through his body, making him tremble and spasm uncontrollably. His other hand thrusting into himself quickly, roughly, desperately.

He dropped back down to his feet, pulling out and letting go with a heavy sigh, the tingle still in his fingers and toes, burning in his thighs as he tensed. He looked down at himself for a moment before he bent down shakily, picking up his loofa. He ran the soaped up sponge over himself carefully, cringing and hissing at the oversensitivity of the loofa over his dick, jumping slightly before he cleaned his hands off and stepped under the water, watching the suds run off.

He cleaned off his sponge, hanging it on the hook before he closed the faucet. He grabbed the towel from atop the shower and ran it over his hair, fluffing it dry before he wrapped the towel around his hips and opened the shower, stepping out into the steaming bathroom. He turned to the mirror and smiled, drawing a smiley face in the mirror for Ryan like he always did before he opened the door.

"Enjoy yourself?"

Frank let out a yelp, jumping in fright as he came out into the bedroom and sat Ryan sitting up in bed clutching his usual chamomile tea in his usual navy blue mug. Frank stood there. His eyes wide as he tried to play it cool, his heart still raging in his chest but now for a different reason.

"I..." Frank ran a hand through his hair as he walked into the bedroom, "I have no idea what you mean."

"Your usual shower is about five-ten minutes..." Ryan took a sip of tea, "You were in there for about a half an hour. I doubt you were existentializing..." Ryan smirked at him and Frank felt himself blush.

"I- I wasn't..."

"Oh, you weren't?" Ryan tilted his head to the side, "You sure about that?"

"Yes." Frank narrowed his eyes as he walked over to the chest of drawers, unwrapping the towel to dry himself off. He set the towel on the end of the bed and opened the drawer, grabbing an old pair of boxers, slipping them on.

"You're lying." Ryan giggled, "You were jerking off."

"What's it to you if I was?" Frank turned and looked at Ryan, hands on his hips. He so badly wanted to ask Ryan why in God's name he was getting more action from his own hand than his boyfriend but no, he decided to hold his tongue despite his best efforts. He scowled at Ryan, who was smirking back at him, his wild curls in a surprisingly attractive mess around his smug face.

"I'm dating a pig."

"And I'm dating an anal-retentive seventy-year-old man." Frank opened the closet and grabbed the first t-shirt he could, pulling it on over his head.

"That's harsh." Ryan frowned and Frank shrugged.

"It's true."

Ryan scoffed, "It isn't."

"Prove me wrong." Frank quipped and Ryan set his cup down and turned to face his scorning lover.

"Get over here and I will." He countered and Frank raised an eyebrow.

"You won't. It's not part of your routine." Frank didn't move, watching Ryan's internal struggle seep into his facial expression.

"Oh... Go hug a landmine." Ryan scowled, folding his arms and Frank tilted his head to the side.

"Now who's harsh, Mr. Ross." Frank stated and Ryan sat up and swung his legs off of the bed, getting up before he walked over to Frank casually, looking down at him. Frank looked up at Ryan, who leaned down, kissing him tenderly, surprisingly tender for the moment. Frank stared at Ryan for a second before he closed his eyes as he kissed back, forgetting for an inkling of his annoyance. He sighed out as Ryan's hands held his hips, pulling him closer, his tongue in Frank's mouth, teasing. Frank let out a groan, the warmth of Ryan's body against his was something Frank had wanted so badly but no, Ryan had denied him that pleasure, and Frank had yet to let it go. He pulled away and Ryan's eyes fluttered open, a small frown of confusion in his perfect brows, "What?"

"You think kissing me is going to make up for last night?" Frank asked and Ryan bit on his lip, his face set in a line.

"I wasn't planning on just kissing you, Frank. I want to make up for it." Ryan smiled, his hands squeezing Frank's hips before he wiggled out of his touch.

"Y'know what?" Frank held his upper arm, "I'm not in the mood for once, dude."

"Really?" Ryan frowned and Frank shrugged, "That's new."

"I'm still upset with you." Frank looked up at Ryan, who was genuinely surprised.

"Because I said 'no' to whipped cream making me sticky?"

"You could've just had a shower like you always do." Frank rolled his eyes and walked away, walking out onto the landing.

"What is with you?"

"Yeah. I'm the problem." Frank replied simply with a scoff before descending the stairs, stomping unhappily as he decided to keep his foul mood intact. He walked into the living room and grabbed the blanket from the sofa, folding it up haphazardly before he lay it over the back of the sofa, hearing Ryan coming down behind him.

"Frank..." Ryan began, most likely standing in the doorway as Frank fluffed the pillow with which he had slept. Frank frowned, averting his gaze from the skinny man in the doorway.

"What?"

"Look at me."

"I'm busy." Frank lifted the pillow up, fluffing the corners to inspect them with feigned interest.

"Hey..."

Frank could hear Ryan was closer and he sighed, turning to look at Ryan, pillow still in hand. He sighed in annoyance, "What?"

"Come and have breakfast with me, sweetheart."

"French toast, right?" Frank asked and Ryan frowned.

"I thought you liked my french toast?" Ryan looked confused, a flash of hurt in his eyes.

"Not hungry." Frank shrugged. It was a lie; he was completely starving by now, but he just didn't want to sit in an awkward silence over breakfast with Ryan at the table.

Ryan took the pillow from Frank's hands and set it down, "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" Frank asked and Ryan nodded, "You don't need to be. It's your choice. You didn't say 'yes' so I didn't do it. I'd never force you to do something you clearly didn't want. Clearly. You were clear."

"And, of course, I appreciate that." Ryan replied with earnest, making the latter shrug, "But I know now that it meant something to you and I'm sorry for how we handled it."

"How we..." Frank frowned before he sighed, pushing his annoyance down, not wanting to start up a proper full-blown argument, "Okay. You're sorry."

"I really am, sweetheart." Ryan stated with a nod and Frank bit his lip, nodding, "I don't want aerated cream to come between us."

"Yeah well, it should have before you would have." Frank muttered, folding his arms and Ryan stared at him for a moment before he seemed to blush, a small snort leaving him.

"That's fucking disgusting, Frank."

"Yeah, okay. Apology accepted, dude."

"I'm gonna make some breakfast, you join me if you want to, okay?" Ryan asked out carefully and Frank pushed Ryan out of the living room and into the kitchen, steering him to the fridge, making Ryan giggle, "You should try and work on your interview."

"Hmm?" Frank asked with a frown as he slid into one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

"Your interview, Frank. With Congressman Way, remember?" Ryan asked airily as he opened the fridge to grab the carton of eggs and whatever else he needed.

"Oh yeah.." Frank scratched at what felt like a pimple on his forehead, "When's that again?"

"On Monday." Ryan warned and Frank winced.

"Shit." He ran a hand over the just-growing stubble on his chin, "I completely forgot."

"You should work on some questions." Ryan stated as he put a pan on the stove, switching the plate on before plopping in a dollop of butter.

"I already have a heading." Frank rolled his eyes, "'Twenty Questions with Congressman Way'." Frank joked with a small laugh.

"I like that." Ryan smiled as he cracked an egg into a bowl.

"I was kidding." Frank frowned, looking over at Ryan.

"But it's a good heading. I mean if you ask him twenty questions. And it's catchy in any case." Ryan stated and Frank mulled out over, biting on the inside of his cheek as Ryan cracked in his third egg.

"I suppose. I mean why not, right? I've got nothing else for it."

"A heading is a good start." Ryan began whisking the eggs, turning to face Frank, facing him as he leaned against the counter.

"Yeah, I'll get my laptop." Frank got up before he paused, "Where is it?"

"I put it in the lounge next to the coffee table." Ryan smiled, grabbing the carton of milk, pouring in a small bit before whisking again. Frank walked out, padding into the living room to grab his laptop bag before returning to the kitchen. Ryan looked up, "What kind of french toast do you want?"

"I have options?"

"Well I mean you can have plain. Or I can maybe put a bit of cinnamon in it or something, some vanilla or honey..." Ryan trailed off and Frank pursed his lips.

"Cinnamon sounds good, dude." He nodded as he pulled his laptop out of his bag and put it on the table and opened it, switching it on.

"And by the way, don't just Google some random question to ask him. Actually put some effort into it, Frank."

Frank opened his mouth to answer when he suddenly jumped, hearing his phone ringing somewhere in the house. He got up, walking out, frowning as he strained his ears, listening. He walked into the living room, hearing it slightly louder. He walked to the sofa and dug around, pulling the device out from the cushions, noting it was a number he didn't know.

"Hello?" He answered.

"Is this Frank Iero?" A voice asked and Frank frowned, walking back into the kitchen.

"Yeah, this is him."

"This is Brendon Urie, Congressman Way's assistant." Brendon introduced himself cheerily as Frank slid back into his chair, watching Ryan dip a slice of bread into the egg mix before laying it in the pan with a light sizzle.

"Oh, hi."

"I know it's early, I hope I didn't wake you." Brendon laughed lightly and Frank smiled, the sound was contagious.

"Nah, I'm awake, I'm actually working on the interview as we speak," Frank replied as he opened up a new document and typed out the heading of his article with one hand.

"Oh, well that's good. Did Ryan inform you of your interview being this up-and-coming Monday?"

"Oh, yeah he did." Frank nodded.

"Is nine o'clock alright with you? The rest of his day is pretty chock-a-block considering he's busy with his campaign."

"Uh..." Frank frowned, "Yeah, nine should be good. I have nothing else on."

"Oh good." Brendon muttered, "Good. Do you have anywhere specific you'd like to meet?"

"Oh jeez... Uh..." Frank frowned, scratching again at the pimple on his chin, elbow on the table, "No, not really."

"How many do you want?" Ryan whispered to Frank as he flipped the slice over and turned to look at the latter.

Frank put his hand over the receiver, "Four slices please." He muttered and Ryan nodded before Frank continued for his phone call, "Sorry, what was that?"

"Can you meet Mr. Way at The Brunch Spot?"

"That restaurant in North Main?" Frank asked.

"That's the one."

"Yeah sure." Frank frowned, "Why not at his office?"

"Well, to be honest, now that Gerard is running again, he and his campaign manager feel as though it would be good publicity to see him interacting with the people, creating a rapport especially if it's going to be an interview for a paper. It'll be good for votes."

"Well uh..." Frank frowned, finding it rather odd that Brendon would admit something like that so openly, but he decided not to question it and rather just go with it, "That makes sense."

"So, you'll be there at nine on Monday," Brendon asked again and Frank nodded to himself.

"Wouldn't miss it." He bit his lip nervously, "And tell Mister Way that I say thanks for this."

"No problem." Brendon replied happily, "Enjoy the rest of your day."

"Yeah, you too." Frank looked at Ryan as Brendon hung up.

"Where you meeting him?" Ryan asked as he flipped a piece of toast over.

"The Brunch Spot." Frank sighed.

"Oh?" Ryan seemed as surprised as Frank was, "I thought it would be at his office, honestly."

"Yeah, me too. But it's publicity apparently." Frank shrugged as he looked at the blank document in front of him, sudden butterflies in his stomach, "Maybe I should do some research on this guy first."

"It wouldn't hurt," Ryan replied and Frank opened his browser, typing in Gerard's name and oh- Frank swallowed, as quite a few articles popped up on the congressman in question, most of them good' boasting about what a good job he's done for his district and the upkeep and mostly-puff-pieces that Frank was too lazy to read.

Ryan asked as he lay another slice in the pan, "So?"

"Gerard Arthur Way." Frank read as he opened a simple Wikipedia page on the politician, "Whoa- He's older than I thought."

"How old is he?"

"Says he's thirty-six." Frank snorted. "Jeez."

"I expected him to be older, actually." Ryan stated as he wandered off, putting the pan in the sink before reappearing.

"You have to be at least thirty to run for senate." Frank stated matter of factly.

"Really? I didn't know that." Ryan smiled as he reached up into one of the cabinets and pulled out two plates, setting them down at the table with the french toast in the middle.

"Thirty-five to be president and twenty-five to be a representative." Frank carried on as he read up a little bit on the congressman.

"That's pretty cool." Ryan commented as he sprinkled some icing sugar on top of the slices, "Want some strawberries?"

"Do we still have any honey?" Frank asked as he continued scrolling, "Gerard was married as well."

"Oh?" Ryan replied with a raised eyebrow as he opened the pantry and stuck his head in.

"Yeah, dunno if they're still married or not but he married his high school sweetheart." Frank smiled.

"That's sweet." Ryan reappeared with the bear-shaped bottle, "Bit like us." Ryan added as he set it down and Frank bit his lip, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

"Uh-huh..." He muttered simply, scratching behind his ear as he frowned, concentrating on the screen instead of Ryan, the thought of marriage making him squirm. Frank had nothing against commitment, no. He had committed faithfully to Ryan for six years but the idea of marriage had him uncomfortable for one reason. But did he want to admit to himself that he was confused whether it was the thought of marriage itself or the thought of marrying Ryan that made him feel so iffy? Frank didn't know, and he didn't want to think about it before he was meant to enjoy a nice breakfast with the boy in question.

He pushed the thought of it all from his head with a small shake and tried to refocus on the website ahead of him as Ryan pottered around, grabbing cutlery for them from the draw along with a napkin or two.

"I wonder what he looks like," Frank muttered as he went to click on images.

"Breakfast is ready." Ryan put his hand on the back of Frank's laptop and gave it a small push, closing it a bit, making Frank jump as the page was about to load.

"Right." Frank smiled, rubbing his hands together, setting his laptop aside as Ryan sat in the chair across from him. Frank grabbed one of the slices from the plate with a smile, stealing the bottle of honey, drizzling a healthy helping on the slice as Ryan did the same with the blueberry sauce his mom had made for them.

Frank began eating when Ryan piped up, "So, did you think of any questions?"

Frank looked up, mouth full of light and fluffy french toast, wrists resting on the table edge, knife and fork in hand, "Oh uh, no. I drew a blank, dude."

"Want some help?" Ryan offered, "I mean I know jack squat about politics but I could give it a go." Ryan shrugged, cutting off a triangle of toast, popping it in his mouth.

"Sure." Frank smiled as he did the same, chewing slowly.

"Why don't you..." Ryan swallowed, pursing his lips in thought, 'Why don't you ask him about... Well, does your article have a specific theme? Like- is there a general criterion and leitmotif for it?"

"I was thinking of something relevant at least. See what his views on it are."

"Well, what about health care?" Ryan asked and Frank froze, looking up from his plate in surprise.

"That's actually not a bad idea, babe."

Ryan smiled proudly, looking slightly smug as he bit his lip and cut into his toast, "Yeah?"

"I could ask him, like," Frank bit into another chunk of toast, the honey making a sweet squelch against his teeth, "Like how the government has spent sixty years 'reforming' health care for employer-based medical aid."

"Really?" Ryan raised an eyebrow, "I didn't know that."

"Yeah," Frank swallowed, "The government has been 'reforming' health-care for sixty years-tax breaks for employer-provided health insurance, Medicare, Medicaid, encouraging HMOs and managed care, and government health-insurance at the state level in Massachusetts, Maine, Oregon. Government health-care has expanded until it is now more than 50% of all health-care spending. Yet after sixty years of government 'reform', the problems with health-care are just getting worse."

"Wow." Ryan muttered, "What would you ask him about that?"

"Well," Frank grabbed his second slice and the honey bottle, "I'd asked him why we should believe that even more government is the solution? I mean, is it really, y'know?"

"I really wouldn't know but write that down before you forget." Ryan nodded at the laptop and Frank nodded, licking his fingers before he closed the Gerard tab and opened his document back up, typing out the first question quickly.

"There. Nineteen to go." Frank smiled.

"You've got this." Ryan smiled encouragingly as he took his own second slice.

"God, I hope so, dude."