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It had started out just as a small realization. Small and rather innocent one, he knew the kind.
They tended just to cross your mind during some minute of everyday life and he usually only mentally shrugged at them, because you were too busy or too concentrated on other things to give it a second thought.
However, it’s a realization, a thought, and once you had let it pop into your head, you couldn’t really get rid of it unless you really, really, thought about it.
Gerard had always been good at ignoring things that bothered him. He had found ways to cope with things he was not willing to admit to himself. But day after day, his most recent realization had become more and more difficult to avoid, growing and evolving and crossing his mind often. Too often.
Gerard was fat.
Of course, of fucking course, he had always known he wasn’t as skinny as his jeans, not that it had ever really been an issue for him. As long as there was someone who considered him even moderately attractive, it was really not a big deal for him to weight as much as he did. And yeah, healthy lifestyle had never been his type of thing, but he knew he was not dying because of obesity of heart disease or anything, so he just… simply, didn’t care.
Until now, obviously.
It was this one show – one show that kind of broke it down for him. Brought reality to his front door, (or rather, to his tour bus couch).
♦
Warm day. A good one to perform. Actually, a fucking great one. That’s what Gerard had thought and then few minutes later mumbled while drinking the first cup of coffee today, grinning at his band mates’ exhausted faces.
“Whatever” had Mikey responded, not too cheery with his monster of a hangover. It was his third cigarette since he had woken up so far, and he looked like he was inhaling God himself. Gerard knew better than anyone that Mikey would be as good as new in a matter of hours. Nothing was going to ruin the show, he was sure.
They were professionals.
Fucked up and a bit irresponsible, but professionals anyhow. Gerard had made clear that drinking was never going to be in a way of making music. It was a personal thing, not a band thing. If someone was having a problem with it, it was his problem, not the other guys’.
Drinking was normal. But music… music was important. The most important thing.
Yeah, it was a warm day. Gerard felt the feeling build up the more the hours ran in the clocks. He felt confident, waiting for the show.
He felt like it was going to be good tonight.
Couple of minutes before sound check, some dude pulled Gerard aside and told him that he was going to sing on top of this stand-like thing, a bit further up compared to the rest of the band. Gerard liked the idea. Sounded like something he would’ve made up himself. He was not afraid of falling, not even a second. At least he would be safe from Frank’s attempts to kick him in the balls again. Not that he minded putting up with a show with the guitarist too much.
Partly because he was already so drunk and medicated that fully rational thoughts rarely broke their way into his mind, he didn’t worry about the show as nearly as much as he usually did. Good vibes were going on.
Gerard said “Ok, cool” without thinking about it too much.
“You sure you won’t lose your balance?” Frank laughed just when they were about to begin. Gerard gave him the middle finger.
♠
It was all crazy and full of noise and his head was full of rush and heat and screaming – he was feeling alive. He was drunk as usual, but not drunk enough not to sing, and the atmosphere was fucking him over and god, did he feel good…!
Until he stumbled a bit, losing the control of his unsure-ish feet while singing the chorus of Helena, and dropping of the weird stand-like thing, dangerously close to falling off the stage and diving into the crowd headlong, possibly breaking his teeth and traumatizing few fans. While taking a break with the song (and Ray covering up for him while he did so) he managed to keep his balance just barely and get up, knees scraped and aching all over. He was blushing, and feeling kind of stupid, because of course he should’ve seen – the stand which he had chosen to be his place to perform, was too weak to handle a guy as heavy as Gerard.
So, he thought to himself, “Damn, I’m fat.” And finished the show without worrying about the incident, his mind full of more important things.
But no, he was not going to let it go that easy. Or rather, his mind was not going to let it go, until he did something about the unpleasant thought.
He was cleaning his mind from shame with some nice and friendly alcohol and hanging out with some nice and friendly people (who probably wouldn’t been even half as nice and friendly if they didn’t love the advantages that came within Gerard’s company) for the rest of the evening, so nothing had exactly changed. It was nothing out of the ordinary.
And yet, something was a bit different.
The weight on Gerard’s shoulders was bigger. Or then he just had notice the weight of his body. Either way, he felt bad.
For the first time looking at the mirror, he really stopped to think about the way his belly sagged over the waist belt of his jeans a bit, how his thighs were too thick, how his chubby arms revealed the lack of muscle, and how his overall look was just disappointing and weak.
And fat. Most importantly, he looked fat.
Throughout his life, Gerard hadn’t ever really felt good about himself. Some days he felt kind of cute, but it was usually just when he was high and kissed by someone attractive. Not that he let his dislike towards his looks matter. To be real, Gerard got laid, so he was not tremendously ugly. In fact, he might’ve been averagely handsome at his best days… but that was usually just wishful thinking. Gerard didn’t really worry about his looks that much anymore. There was honestly more important things to worry about than that.
Until now.
Just another thing to be constantly anxious about. Gerard was pissed off at himself. Pissed off because of over thinking, and pissed off for treating himself so badly he had gotten into this state. It was sickening. It was gross.
He didn’t want to be gross.
At first, Gerard didn’t knew what to do about it, until he did. He started avoiding meals whenever he could. Liquid was more important anyway at this point, and it was not like they had regular and healthy eating patterns while touring anyway. It was easy to use “I’m busy” or “I’m tired” or “I’m not hungry” as an excuse if he felt like it.
Being the lead singer he had few privileges, and one of them was not explaining himself if he didn’t want to.
Except to Mikey. He always had to explain himself to Mikey. That was just a thing. It had always been like that. Mikey was supposed to know everything about him. It was the way that the things were. Just now, it felt unnatural to open up about these feelings to anyone, not to mention his brother, who, regardless of his general kindness, was not going to understand why the hell Gerard was doing what he was doing.
He was not sure what the hell was he doing, and most importantly, why? But he was sure that he would sort it out somewhere along the way. For now, the only thing to worry about was not to gain any more weight, and possibly lose some, just to feel… better. More alive.
Some things that had started out as little details became obsessions over time. It was the downfall of Gerard, had always been. He took things way too seriously, het got himself in trouble. He didn’t mean to be so fucked up, but yet he always show people he was. The king of the fuck ups. Mr. fuck up.
He had fucked up again.
Just to feel more alive and better turned into numbers. Numbers began to haunt him, live as nightmares behind his eyelids, even when he was awake. He was a wreck, and he was tired.
This sucked.
Gerard wished only that the stand hadn’t lost the duel with gravity and physics few months back, because it had started it all, and Gerard was not happy with the situation.
♦
“Dude, you should slow down with the drinking, you’re gonna get a proper beer gut sooner or later!” the words string out from Mikey’s mouth and were decorated with an amused grin. Gerard knew that his brother didn’t intend his words to be so hurtful, but yet they somehow were.
He didn’t like the feeling of being ashamed. Once again. He was ashamed of himself, of his presence all the time nowadays.
He was fat. Fat people were not supposed to be sure about themselves.
“Fuck off” Gerard threw his can at Mikey, hitting the wall behind him. His aiming had gotten better over the years.
“Just saying, man. Don’t get all whiny.”
“Fuck off” Gerard repeated, not sober enough to defense himself but not drunk enough to properly show how insulted he really was. He felt stupid for being hurt by Mikey’s words. It was childish, he was childish.
He didn’t want a beer gut. The whole idea made him gag. He was disgusting, he was un-appealing, he was not attractive. He was just chubby and ridiculous. He hated being ridiculous, hated feeling like he was not to be taken seriously because of his appearance.
“What kind of a role model are you?” He heard mean, nosy voices saying when he was about to fall asleep, “What kind of a picture you’re promoting? Are you telling everyone that it’s okay to look the way you do? Because it isn’t.”
Those were the thoughts he fell asleep with – if he was able to fall asleep. Mostly he just switched his position in his bunk and listened to the calm breaths and snores from the other sides of the bus, and dreamed to wake up the better person he could’ve been if he was not as devastatingly lazy and incapable.
Gerard Way – the man who was fat. Suddenly the small thing had become so much more meaningful that it had been just weeks earlier. Gerard wanted to change. And he was going to change, god damn it. One skipped meal out of time, he was doing it. Changing. Hopefully for the better. Surely for the skinnier.
♦
“Do you ever just wanna sleep more than you mind will let you?” His words turned into a soft purr as he leaned against his short friend’s arm and made him laugh with his meaningless, drunk midnight philosophy.
“Sure” Frank reached over for the bottle next to Gerard and somewhat accidentally touched his leg as he did so, taking a big gulp and rolling his eyes, “What’s up, Gerard?”
“Nothing much” the words came out a sigh, “Not really.”
“Talk about it, fucker.” Frank muttered, smacking Gerard’s hand. “No, you’ve had enough of this” Frank threw away the bottle and it crashed against the asphalt that was still wet from the rain earlier the same day.
“Hey! S… That’s s was my bottle, you…”
“Yeah?”
“You… you…” Gerard was slow, he didn’t come up with anything good. He had never been creative with insults. And as confirmed, motherfucker was a multipurpose and useful word in English language.
“I feel bad, Frankie” he suddenly sobbed, no, wept, staring at the distance. His eyes were glassy. The night air smelled like city and sweat and sunburns.
Gerard felt trapped in his own skin.
“What do you feel bad about?” Frank lighted up a cigarette and offered one for Gerard too. Gerard had never turned down a good smoke and he was not starting that today.
“Myself.” Gerard admitted weakly, inhaling the smoke and hating the way the word dropped from his mouth like a fucking curse word. Like an insult.
“Why would you?” Frank gave him a weird glance, rubbing his knees through his ripped jeans, clearly getting chilly. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Gerard was worried about Frank getting a cold because of Gerard. Frank had had a terrible one just couple of months ago and it was not easy for the rest of the band either. Frank was not easy to deal with when he was sick. Suddenly he turned into a six-year-old who needed to make approximately fifteen calls to his mom every day. It could turn out to be annoying as fuck, especially when he had the habit of complaining about his physical issues a lot.
On the other hand, Gerard was not exactly in the position of shaming anyone for complaining about stuff.
“I’m gross.” Gerard said loudly, like he wanted the whole world to hear that he didn’t have misassumptions about himself. He wanted to be honest. He didn’t want people to think that he was as arrogant as he seemed to be.
He was fat, and there was no way of escaping that.
“Like hell you are.” Frank frowned at Gerard and rolled his eyes in disbelief, “one of the prettiest dudes I’ve ever laid my eyes on, to be honest.”
“You don’t really mean it” Gerard didn’t look Frank in the eye, running his long fingers through his hair and choosing the next words carefully: “I’m sick of people being nice to me out of pity.”
“No one pities you.” Frank sounded almost terrified, “how could you say that, Gee? People admire you. They wanna be like you.”
“Why would anyone wanna be like me?” Gerard uttered a hoarse laugh and ignored the way Frank put his hand on Gerard’s thigh, obviously suggesting something Gerard didn’t want to process. Frank’s hand felt heavy, steady and warm. Gerard was just simply amazed that someone wanted to touch him.
“You’re kidding, right?” Frank smiled at Gerard like he didn’t really believe what his friend had just said, “Why wouldn’t anyone be like you? You’re… I don’t know man, you’re incredible. You’re talented. You’re gifted.”
Gerard shook his head, wanting to put his hands on his ears more than he had wanted anything else in days: “Bullshit.”
“No it isn’t, Gee.”
And on that note, Frank’s dry mouth pressed against Gerard’s, bringing the scent of cigarette and metal, the coldness of his lip piercing and his breathing steady and calm. It was more of a flash than a kiss, just a small moment on the outside of their bus this one night, talking about crap that didn’t seem important.
“Okay” Gerard said when Frank leaned away, looking a bit pleased with himself and smirking like an asshole, “what was that supposed to be?”
“It was supposed to be a kiss, you dumbfuck.” Frank took another casual breath from his cigarette and let the smoke out of his nostrils. He looked hot, as he always did. Gerard was not quite sure about this situation.
“Yeah, but what for?”
“For you, and for not being gross.”
Gerard was convinced about being fat. Gerard didn’t feel any better. Gerard was actually even more fucked up now- Gerard needed another shot of whiskey.
♦
“I ain’t wearing this shirt.” Came from Gerard’s side of the bus, words filled with strong incredulity like he was suspecting that someone was fucking with him “It makes me look like… like a fucking whale!”
“Gerard Whale.” Mikey struggled to straighten his hair, fixing his glasses and looking averagely pissed off at life and his bitchy old brother.
“Shut the fuck up, Mikey.” Gerard gently advised.
“What’s wrong with the shirt?” Ray asked from his bunk, paging through some instrument catalog and ignoring the pre-show panic everyone else was feeling.
“I already told you.”
“It’s the same shirt you wore yesterday, Gerard.”
“Yeah, and it looks bad. I don’t wanna put it on.”
“Gerard” Mikey hissed from behind his teeth, closing his eyes which was not the most safe thing considering that he was holding a burning hot metal very close to his forehead, “…this is not the time to be a diva.”
“I’m not a diva, I’m just – “
“Look, Gerard, take my spare shirt if it really bothers you so much.” Ray sighed, trying to avoid the fight that had been clearly building up.
“Thanks, Ray.”
“Don’t mention it, Gee.”
Frank had listened to this conversation quietly from the bus “living room” and tried his hardest not to say something too sentimental that’d make everyone uncomfortable. Instead, he just tried not to fuck up his make up and bit his tongue.
Sure, Gerard had always been… like that. Gerard. He had always been chubby, in an adorable way, like a dog. He had always been pretty too. Frank hadn’t left details bother, when it came to Gerard’s outlook. He couldn’t picture Gerard in any other way than this. He just wanted to wrap his hands around how soft Gerard was. He was huggable. He was cuddly. That tummy just needed to be cuddled with and tickled.
Gerard just needed so much more love than he got. Especially from himself.
Frank didn’t know what the fuck was going on with their relationship anyway, but all he really wanted to do is to sleep as a happy little spoon of this bigger, black-haired, a bit meaty band member spoon he got so much unquestioned affection for, that it was ridiculous.
Frank didn’t want Gerard to change a bit.
♦
“You guys fucking or something?” Mikey asked tonelessly and Gerard almost choked on his pancake. Frank had just passed the diner table the brothers were eating at.
“No!” Gerard coughed loudly and felt his chubby cheeks get all flustered with his body’s usual reaction to awkward things; making them even more awkward.
“Just asking” Mikey impaled his pancake viciously with a fork and glanced at his brother, suspecting. Gerard could feel his X-ray look from behind his sunglasses.
“Don’t ask shit like that, Mikey.”
“Don’t get all weird, it had to be pointed out at some point.” Mikey rolled his eyes, making Gerard feel like a drama queen as he always did. There were days when Gerard really wanted to shove a cactus up his little brother’s ass for being the annoying nuisance he was.
“Sure.” Gerard dropped his cutlery and crossed his arms, leaning back in the uncomfortable diner chair. He was hangover and he had a massive bruise in his shoulder, his hair needed to be washed, and he was craving for an actual bed to sleep in.
In other words, he really wasn’t in the mood for shit like this.
“What you guys talking about?” Frank joined them, pushing Gerard a bit, forcing him to make some space.
“Nothing” Mikey said with a poker face and Gerard echoed: “Yeah, nothing.”
“So you’re talking about me” Frank laughed, looking at Gerard’s uneaten food. “Dude, can I have those?”
“No you can’t” Mikey answered for Gerard before he got to open his mouth, “Jesus, Frank, Gerard needs to eat.”
Frank put his hands up as a sign of innocence and shrugged apologetically.
“I don’t wanna eat.” The words escaped Gerard’s mouth before he really had the time to reconsider – he felt whiney, but there was no fixing what he had let out at this point. Now he just had to play it cool. He was feeling nauseous today, a bit out of space.
“What’s with that, though?” Frank asked almost irritatingly cheerily, not being able to sit still, but wiggling his short legs under the table. He looked even younger than he really was. For some reason Gerard wanted to punch him.
“Nothing’s with that” Gerard growled and rubbed his head, “I’m just not hungry.” He wouldn’t have believed himself, and at this point, he didn’t really think he could fool Mikey anymore. Mikey always got it, sooner or later. Gerard sort of hated him for it.
Gerard was right. Mikey’s ridiculously photogenic eyebrows disappeared somewhere under his hair and he tilted his head at Gerard, making his mouth into this thin, disapproving line.
“Eat, dumbass.” The younger brother commanded, not a spark of hesitation in his voice. He already sort of knew what was going on. As long as he had gotten the hint, he was able to read it all over Gerard’s pathetic face. Fuck this.
“Okay, okay, fine!” Gerard grabbed the plate and took a bite, forcing it down his throat. Of course he was hungry, of course it felt pretty good to eat again. Of course it created an illusion that he was feeling better. Well, he did, until the next time he looked into the mirror and practically saw how the pancakes had transformed into that disgusting bulge under his shirt, making every piece of clothing not fitting and unflattering. There was no such a thing as something that looked good on body like Gerard’s.
Gerard was fat. It felt like a ridiculous problem, to be honest. He was ashamed for it. There were people with actual issues in their lives, and here Gerard was, crying over few extra pounds and feeling like a failure.
“You gotta take care of yourself.” Mikey noted and got up, rubbing his neck and yawning. He had eaten all of his pancakes. Jealously, Gerard wondered where the hell all the food Mikey consumed went. It didn’t seem very fair.
“Sure.” Gerard replied, mouth full of pancakes. He hoped he didn’t sound as sarcastic as he thought he did.
“Feeling better?” Frank put his hand on Gerard’s shoulder and gave him the most adorable huge smile that was impossible to describe or capture without witnessing it in nature.
“Kinda.” Gerard swallowed heavily and looked Frank in the eyes, opening his mouth to ask something but closing it, deciding it was better off not to make everything complicated. Instead, he just smiled back at Frank, even though it might’ve been a little fake. It was still a smile.
“Good.” Frank ran his fingers hair through Gerard’s hair thoughtfully almost like he didn’t mean to do it in the first place. Gerard had learned not to question whatever the hell this was a while ago. He just went with it.
“Thanks.” Gerard mumbled, resting his head against Frank’s chest for a minute, just breathing. It felt good to be close to someone like this. There were days when he was really lonely on the road. There were days when he felt like hating what he loved the most. Those days fucked him up.
“For what?” Frank patted Gerard’s head and Gerard could almost hear him smirk like a prick.
“For caring, I guess…”Gerard sighed and chose not to explain himself any further. Frank didn’t need to fully know. He just needed to be there.
“Don’t thank.” Frank shrugged, sweeping away the kudos like it was a not a big deal, and Gerard pulled away from their not-quite-hug hesitantly. He didn’t want the guys to talk, even though they probably already did. Relationships were too intimate to discuss with the band sometimes. He didn’t want to think about it. Mikey had left them and joined Ray, having a cigarette outside. It was a bit cold today, a hint of fall in the air.
“Thanks anyway.”
“Hey, listen” Frank looked over his shoulder and a hint of climbed up his face, “I sort of have this crazy idea that I want to kiss you right now, right here, and uhm…” He turned back at Gerard and got scared by the look on the older man’s face.
“Frankie, I –“ Gerard didn’t know even what he wanted to say. It was different now. They were both sober, it was morning, they were… Whatever they were. Gerard didn’t know. Gerard was very, very, very confused.
“Sorry” Frank mumbled under his breath, “Sorry, I fucked up.” He got up and left Gerard sitting there, just few words left unsaid, such like “No you didn’t.”
♦
“I didn’t know you were into guys” Ray, the little ray of sunshine, made a small mark on his notes and leaned back in his bunk. He heard Frank above him, turning restlessly in his bed and sounding like he was going to lose it any second now. Ray was used of dealing with Frank when he was being like this. All you needed to do was be patient.
“Me neither.” Frank growled. “Shit, I fucking wish I wasn’t.”
“I can see why.” Ray agreed calmly, giving Frank the time to gather his thoughts.
“I’m afraid that I’ll mess up the band.” Frank whined sounding suffocated, most likely face pressed against his pillow, “I don’t wanna mess up the band. The band is everything, Ray.”
“One crush won’t mess up the band, Frankie.” Ray tried to sound consoling. And to be honest, Ray was sure Frank was overreacting a bit. They had all seen the guys on the stage. The attraction was definitely not one-sided. Ray didn’t believe in perfect couples, but if he would’ve, this would be one. Not that he especially cared about the whole thing.
“That’s it, Ray” Frank kicked the bus wall and Ray could hear he was almost actually in tears, “I don’t think that this is any crush.”
“Just give it time. He’s probably just as upset as you are.”
“Oh god…”Frank cried out and let his body relax, turn into a dead weight that pulled him towards the center of the earth, “…I’m such a teenager, aren’t I?”
“A little.”
“But Ray, he’s just so…” Frank didn’t even mean to say it, but he had to, “He’s so adorable, you don’t understand. I want to hug him and never let go. I want to kiss his cute little nose, Ray. I want to use his tummy as a pillow, he looks so soft, like he’s made out of marshmallow!”
“Too cheesy, man” Ray disapproved the sudden confession and sighed in his mind at his dumb band members. Sometimes he felt like he was the only proper adult around here. Ray was like a babysitter who didn’t get paid.
“Sorry” Frank apologized, not really sorry, falling asleep hugging his pillow in a matter of minutes, dreaming of some things he had promised himself not to dream about.
♦
Mikey was inconveniently sharp-eyed. Mikey had troublesome assumptions about Frank’s and his big brother’s, what he called, “Full-homo-bromance.” Mikey was not helping the situation.
To be honest, Gerard didn’t want to think about anything, because every time he did, something became a problem. Something became difficult. Gerard hated the way he could make everything an issue if he wanted to. His mind was masochistic. His brains needed to chill out.
“I look so chubby again.” He didn’t mean to complain in the first place, but somehow it just happened. Complaining was his second nature.
“Shut up.” Frank laughed off the thing like it was nothing, “You look great.”
“You can be chubby and great the same time, though” Mikey pointed out analytically, putting just enough weight on his words to make Gerard realize what he was trying to do.
“Oh fuck this.” Gerard pushed his hair angrily from his face and gave himself a disapproving look at the mirror, “I look like hell.”
“That’s punk rock.” Ray yelled from the other side of the bus, just for the sake of being a smart ass and feeling like he was part of the conversation.
“Do you mind?” Gerard glared at Frank and his brother frustrated, “…Close your eyes, dipshits, I wanna change my shirt!”
“Dude.” Mikey rolled his eyes, “Like we haven’t both seen you shirtless more than a million times.”
Frank didn’t want to close his eyes either, (for completely other reasons then Mikey though) so he nodded at the younger Way’s words, grinning a bit. He didn’t even care if he looked like an asshole. He probably was. An asshole, who really wanted Gerard go shirtless right fucking now.
“Close your fucking eyes.” Gerard threatened and after a few seconds of hesitation and making sure his friends had obeyed him, he took off his shirt and toss it off, looking for huge sweater he always wore when he wanted to feel smaller. It hadn’t been working lately. He always felt like he took terribly lot of space.
Gerard turned around to get the sweater, and was informed by the fact that neither of his band mates had closed their eyes.
“Motherfuckers.” He quickly grabbed the sweater and hid his upper body behind it, weirdly self-conscious about his appearance like he was fifteen all over again. This moment brought way too many locker room memories to him he didn’t want to think about.
“Nice.” Came Frank’s voice as a truthful appreciation. He had no problem resting his eyes on Gerard’s sides and cute little stomach. Maybe it was just the fact that Gerard wasn’t feeling too good about himself at the moment, because Frank just needed to show some love to every bit of Gerard. He wanted to tell the guy how gorgeous he really was.
Frank honestly wouldn’t have Gerard any other way. But if that were to happen, Frank was cool with that too. As long as it was Gerard.
And on that note, Frank realized he was fucked. Meaning that, obviously, he was kind of fucking in love.
Fuck.
“Get a room.” Mikey covered his eyes with his palm, “I’m cool with you two and all, as long as it doesn’t happen right in front of my face.”
“Nothing is happening!” Gerard yelled, almost panicking already “I’m just changing my shirt and Frank’s being a creep!”
“What I do best.” Frank agreed.
“Jesus, I hate you both” Gerard was seriously upset, “There’s a reason why I didn’t wanna… Shit. I know I’ve kind of… Let myself go, I…” The more he talked, the more he hoped he had shut up. The story of his life, actually. Everything he said seemed so unimportant.
It probably shouldn’t have felt so humiliating. It was only his brother and his… whatever-the-hell-friend, not a group of judging strangers or anything. But still it hurt to be seen that way. Gross. Avoidable.
Fat.
Gerard pulled on his sweater, hands shaking and hiding his face from the rest of the two. God damn it, he should’ve been more cautious. He should’ve taken care of things better. He definitely shouldn’t have let anyone see him like he was right now.
“I don’t know man, I think you’re good looking” Frank confessed, winking, and Mikey was trying to find a way to make a smooth exit. He was cool and all, but not that cool to be around when his big brother got hit on by some punk midget.
“I’m just gonna pretend that I didn’t hear that.” Gerard turned his back at Frank and fought the urge to attack his friend, who was clearly just fucking with him right now. Gerard hated being laughed at like this. He didn’t want to be a joke.
Not a joke for anyone.
♦
Gerard had let it all show again. Again. He was not good at keeping secrets anymore, and it scared him a fucking lot. He should’ve been able to hide this.
What if everyone got to know? The fans? The fucking media? Gerard didn’t want to be some headline rumor. A joke. He felt weird inside his own skin, like it would’ve been itchy. Maybe there were too many pills inside his system. Everything was kind of messy. Messy and chaotic. He needed to breathe.
Frank had followed him outside the studio, offering him a chocolate bar as soon as Gerard had stopped running and let his steps become slow and heavy. He was scuffing down the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, and Frank did his best to keep up his speed.
Man, that dude got some short legs.
“You okay?” Frankie offered the chocolate as a gesture of peace, and Gerard’s face melted into a small, grateful smile.
He took the chocolate, unwrapped it and bit a piece, sighing and shaking his head as a response. He was hopeful that Frank wouldn’t have any extra questions.
“You shouldn’t have freaked out like that.” Frank pointed out and played with his lip piercing using his tongue, a thing, that almost always made Gerard feel like his knees were going to fail him.
Sure, Frank was right. Gerard shouldn’t have freaked out like that. Just because Mikey was skeptical about the fact that Gerard had been sober yesterday as he had promised, Gerard shouldn’t have yelled at his brother like that. Mikey was just trying to keep them all sane, as usual. Recording the new album was stressful as hell for every single one of them, that was for sure. It was all just so emotionally draining.
Gerard just needed to take his aggression on someone. Mikey just happened to be there. Poor Mikey who always stood these kind of things. Poor Mikey who cared about Gerard more than he cared about himself.
Gerard was guilty already.
“I’m sorry” Gerard mumbled, feeling Frank’s hand in his own all of a sudden, deciding, as always, not to question it. It felt nice to hold someone’s hand for a change. It had been a while since anyone had even touched him.
“You’re just tired, we get it.” Frank put his head down and Gerard could feel how he was smiling, adorably, and Gerard nod, calmed down and feeling clearer now.
It would work out. Again. And again.
“You’ve had so much patience with me.” Gerard laughed and squeezed Frank’s hand like it was the most natural thing to do, “Dude… I… it’s unbelievable.”
“I got nothing else but patience.” Frank rolled his eyes, poking Gerard’s arm and asking him to lean down. Gerard did. They kissed on a shitty sidewalk in the middle of recording their third record –not planned, not considered, just happened. Neither one of them regretted it.
“You’re so weird.” Gerard mouthed against skin somewhere around Frank’s ear and jawline. His warm breath felt funny, flashback of tour nights couple of years ago – being wasted, being best friends.
“You’re weirder.”
♦
“Please don’t tell me that you still worry about it.” Frank said, completely tired with the whole subject. Gerard knew. Gerard knew that Frank would never want to discuss about this again, he had too many times already. Gerard knew that he was being childish and irritating and obnoxious. But it was all going bad again.
Gerard couldn’t help it.
The guy who he had to face from every reflecting mirror around was his enemy. And he felt threatened by the humiliating pour of his mind, words dripping down his brains like hailstorm. Fat. A Joke. A Loser. A Quitter. An idiot. A prank to fool everyone.
He had been there too many times before. It was not a pleasant place to be. And just because he had once let it become a problem. Let it take over his routines, even when he tried to fight it off.
Gerard was fat. And if there was a day he was going to accept that as a positive thing, this was not the day.
“Why is it your problem if I am?” Gerard snapped back at his whatever-let’s-pretend-we’re-still-not-a-couple.
“Why is it… You’re unbelievable. How many times do I have to…?” Frank put his hands on his face, like he was trying to rub off the words Gerard had spit on it.
It was windy outside, real windy. People in television war warning them about storms. Gerard had no idea why he had let Frank in in the first place. Maybe he had something to say about the record, maybe Gerard was just very lonely today. Today and every other day.
“It’s not your problem if I don’t like myself.” Gerard summed it up, hoping for Frank to leave and to stay at the same time.
“It’s my problem, because I want you to.” Frank responded – yes, making sense on some level, but annoying the shit out of Gerard nonetheless.
“Well, too bad, ‘cause I ain’t gonna learn to like it. It is just… gross.” Gerard was way too angry to make his sentences sensible anymore.
“Fuck” Frank didn’t take long to open the door and storm out like he had finally had enough, “I’m not dating someone who hates someone I love. And that’d be yourself.”
“We weren’t dating!”
“Well, fuck you too!”
Was there any other option for Gerard than to call Mikey now? Regardless of the situation, he really hoped that Frank got home safe. It was just another night of self-pity and binging for Gerard today, nothing new.
He had already forgotten where this all had first started.
♦
Just another realization. Gerard breathed in the scent of someone else’s bed sheets and a pair of tattooed hands rested on his sides, assuring and calm.
“Look at you” Frank was sleepy and drowsy, his voice was soft and he had barely gotten out of his jeans. He rested his forehead against the taller man’s shoulder blade and felt safe where he was. Warm.
“Frank?”
“Yeah?”
“You really like me, don’t you?” Gerard blushed at the thought. He couldn’t believe he had said it out loud. The risk of getting laughed at was too real. But Frank would never laugh at him.
“Always have” Frank mumbled halfway asleep, barely staying in conscious, “even though you’re an asshole.”
“I like you too.”
It was humble, but good enough for now. Frank kept his hands tightly wrapped around Gerard’s tummy, tangling their feet together and murmuring “good night, motherfucker” under his breathe against Gerard’s neck.
Frank wouldn’t have stick around this long to pretend. And that, if something, made Gerard very happy with himself. He had been feeling like he was always in the way like an unhandy piece of furniture for years, but now he felt like he was where he was supposed to be.
He had a place in his own skin.
♦
“It’s finally fucking done!” Mikey had bought the pizzas as he had promised, and they were all feeling fucking festive today. The album was done, it was recorded, it was done – months and months of getting on each other’s nerves and making every single detail count was over.
Gerard felt empty, but in a good way. He took the slice he was offered, smiling at the guy by the door and silently thanking himself for suggesting to celebrate the record with family and friends first.
It felt like the thing to do. It was a personal album on some level too, for all of them.
A thing that was nearly that had been fought over for so many times now that Gerard thought that he could never fight about anything with anyone. It felt cool to be finished with something like that, something that was so meaningful.
“It’s finally fucking done.” Frank’s hand was resting on Gerard’s knee, his tattooed fingers feeling like a wanted and needed anchor.
Gerard was safe. Castaway had ended. For a moment. He had survived – they had survived. Another album was done. And to be honest, it was a fucking incredible album.
It had started out just as a small realization. Small and rather innocent one, he knew the kind.
They tended just to cross your mind during some minute of everyday life and he usually only mentally shrugged at them, because you were too busy or too concentrated on other things to give it a second thought.
However, it’s a realization, a thought, and once you had let it pop into your head, you couldn’t really get rid of it unless you really, really, thought about it.
Gerard was fat.
And Gerard was fucking cool with it.
“What you thinking?” Frank stole a piece of Gerard’s pizza slice with his teeth, grinning at him like a puppy who craved attention.
“I’m thinking about how good I look today.” Gerard replied casually and fixed his expensive-ass tie he had gotten from his mom.
Frank nodded as an agreement, grinning, and left a little kiss on his dumbass whatever-we’ll-just-date’s cheek.
“Nice.”