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Frank was sitting at the table in the front lounge, with a book in hand and a blanket shrugged over his shoulders. He was the kind of early riser that saw this side of seven only when his body ached and his brain wouldn’t turn off. Ray was usually the only other guy he knew that could get up this early, and he rose at 8:00 am on the hour like clockwork unless he was hungover.
Frank grimaced a little at the snoring coming from the bunks, Bob was having a nice dream apparently. See, the really very exciting thing about upgrading to a tour bus (a whole bus!) was that there was supposed to be more space. But like it always goes, if you acquire more space: you will fill it up. Which is why the back lounge was a recording studio, and the coffee corner was for any serious computer business and also the recycling, and why Bob’s favorite hoodie was always slung over the passenger seat at the front, at the end of any night. Frank wasn’t exactly the tidiest guy himself, a lot of the time he misplaced his book or his sunglasses or his phone like anyone would, it was just that, well, the clutter and the smell and this headache. And, actually, now that he thought about it, he might've just been flu-pmsing.
A body shuffled from the bunks and shook him out of his thought adventure, and there was Mikey where Ray should have been, leaning against the jamb of the privacy divider between the kitchenette and the bunks.
“Oh, hey.” Mikey said, quietly.
“Morning?” Frank waved.
“Bedtime soon,” Mikey shook his head, the hint of a smile there.
“Man, me too.” Frank said, wishing it were true. He wasn’t great at napping after a sleepless night without just crashing for the whole day.
Mikey laughed a little under his breath, and shuffled to the fridge, he pulled out a can of something Frank couldn’t see and waved a little “Night”, on his way back to the dark side of the bus.
“Yeah, I’d fucking kill for a rolaid right now,” another voice trailed from the bunks which could only be Gerard’s.
Frank frowned, his head snapping in that direction trying to figure out what he just heard, and why everyone seemed to be awake this morning.
Gerard entered the kitchenette, stumbling into the jamb and the counter a little in the dim light towards the coffee maker. Frank huffed a laugh, the clanging and thumping so inconsiderate of the time. Gerard whipped around, the silhouette of something in his periphery catching his attention and startling him visibly, an open mouth wide eyed stare with a hand on his chest like a housewife afraid of a rat in a fifties film. He met Frank’s eye, the relief falling on him with the easing of his posture. Frank’s hand covered his face, like man, that really just happened.
“Hi,” Gerard said a little breathlessly.
“What are you doing?” Frank asked.
“You know,” Gerard’s hand gestured limply towards the cabinet, “Coffee.”
“No, I mean, you should be asleep. Everyone’s awake this morning.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m kind of… couldn’t if I tried.”
Frank nodded, he got it, mostly.
A gas station comes along more rarely than anyone would prefer. There’s something impressive about the physical training of a touring band’s bladder. Except for when there’s empty bottles lying around in the nonfunctional shower with dubious liquids sloshing around. Frank stepped off the bus and stretched like he’s never stretched before. Bob barrelled behind him, landing a fast pat into his back, forcing him forward and off kilter.
“Fucker,” Frank doesn’t quite yell.
He fished for his lighter in his many pockets, passing the smoke from behind his ear between his lips and inhaling. Sometimes, lately, nothing is exactly satisfying the way it used to be. A break should scratch an itch, but when you’re just sitting around for hours and hours some days it’s like, well okay, nothing really feels that good because you’re just a zombie.
There was Gerard and Mikey coming out from the store, standing in one of the parking spaces and talking about something, or something. Mikey had his hand covering his eyes from the glare of the sun, Gerard’s sunglasses providing immunity. Frank watched them walk all the way back over, dropped his butt and stepped it out.
“I’ll take that,” Gerard said, hand outstretched for the lighter no doubt.
Mikey walked past them both back into the bus, his bag of shit crinkling against his leg up the stairs.
Frank reached his hand out too, expecting a fair exchange.
Gerard sighed, and shook his head, digging into his cargo shorts for his pack, and taking out two. “If you’re not careful you might become an addict.”
“Really impactful coming from you,” Frank said, a smirk at the end of his words.
“Ouch, man” Gerard feigned hurt, his skin was thicker these days. It had to be when it seemed like the only thing anyone did for fun was the very thing he wasn’t allowed to do.
They stood there, shoulder to shoulder, leaning against the bus like they always did. Clouds of smoke billowing around them like a privacy screen that wasn’t very good at its job. Gerard stretched his arms up, the cigarette dangling precariously from his mouth, a yawn there, and stretched. And oh so slowly, his arm came around Frank’s shoulder, a middle school movie date flashed somewhere in Frank’s mind.
“Smooth,” Frank said, a giggle on his breath.
“I thought so,” Gerard said, and exhaled.
***
It wasn’t a long time before they kept stealing themselves away around buildings, and quiet corners, and rafters. Frank felt lightheaded with a stupid boyish flutter in his heart everytime Gerard decided to focus his attention on him. Like, the guy really had his pick of whoever was interested in his schemes, or his sense of humor, maybe cos they thought he was pretty or they thought they could get something. But each still moment, he chose Frank.
That was sappy, maybe. Kind of teeth rotting and not in a nice way.
At a Truck stop somewhere in Oklahoma, they went to the single stall bathroom together because… why? Frank didn’t remember what Gerard had said. And then they were there, Gerard lifting his shirt up slowly, kind of shy like he’s always been.
“See?” He said, pointing to the liver shaped birthmark right above his hip.
Frank stared and stared, “Yeah, huh. I always thought you’d be just like, plain.” and he frowned at himself, shaking his head a second like what the fuck was he saying actually.
“I do see the sun, sometimes, you know?” Gerard laughed, he always understood.
They stalked back from the bathroom, lighting the way with secretive laughs and whispered jokes. Frank brought his hand up, tentatively, and stuck it in Gerard’s ass pocket which made the guy jump about a foot ahead. Frank laughed, the lighter he stole in hand, and slapped his knee like it was really a barrel full. Gerard whipped around, his eyebrows knitting themselves into his hairline, eyes wild, “YOU,” he said loudly, pointing.
“Me?” Frank asked, aiming for innocence but laughing anyway.
“I expect revenge is in order,” Gerard says, a smirk on his face, crossing his arms to lean into his hip as they stand apart like a real face off was about to ensue.
Frank didn’t think anything of it, brought a couple of smokes out from the soft pack in his hoodie pocket and offered one over. Gerard took it, they lit up together, standing just a bit closer. When Frank brought the butt down from his lips, ready to exhale, Gerard kissed him, and, whether by accident or not, took in the smoke from his mouth. They broke apart, coughing a little, only kind of embarrassing and Frank wasn’t expecting himself to smile, but he drew back in, grabbed Gerard by the hoodie strings to bring them back together. And that was that.