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Frank's P.O.V.
***
"Wait, so you mean to tell me that we've lived in the exact same neighborhood our whole lives and I never noticed you?" I scream incredulously, and Gerard's muffled voice shushes me. It's nearly one in the morning, and I'm spending the first night of our Fall Break in my room. In bed. Reading.
I'm such a rebel.
My heart is beating too quickly for me to properly function. How the fuck could Gerard live down the street from me, and I just not know it? He's not a vampire, so he had to at least have come out a few times. "I don't know, Frank," Gerard whispers through the phone, sighing, "But I'm a little pissed I didn't know, either. I mean, did we go to the same school, too?"
I laugh and shake my head, because I went to an extremely small Catholic school during my grade school years. "Nope. My school had a really tiny population, and I'm sure I would've noticed a hot, sassy emo kid scooting around the halls. Then I would've at least had one friend," I recall sadly, remembering the friendless days I had spent moping around school, dreading the moments in which we had to choose partners, or when any social interaction at all was required.
"Oh, good," Gee replies breathlessly, "Well, now that we know we're in the same neighborhood, we need to get together and meet each others' families. I'm tired of my mother bothering me about you." I giggle foolishly and think about how my mother has been harassing me about Gerard as well. I had told her about him the moment I had stepped through the doors of our small house, followed by a brief summary of my studies, but mostly Gerard.
She knows I'm gay, and she's totally fine with it. "Homophobia is gay, anyways," she had muttered when I had finally come out, followed by, "I mean, I've pretty much known you your whole life, and I've seen some of the shit you write on those story sites. I'm stoked. Let's get some cake and throw a fucking party." And we did have a party, though we were the only people there. And a cake. And balloons, and a made up song about coming out of the closet:
"If you're gay and you know it shout hooray!
(Hooray!)
If you're gay and you know it shout hooray!
(Hooray!)
You're a faggot to the rest, but I think that you're the best!
If you're gay and you know it shout hooray!
(Hooray!)"
All of this is sung to the tune of "If You're Happy and You Know It", by the way, and I think that I'm going to patent it. We did a great job with that musical masterpiece.
But my mother is more excited to meet him than to hear about all of my classes, so I had handed her some of my grades and work, and then gone into a lengthy explanation of everything GEe and I had done together (yes, everything) and we had gotten some coffee as well. It was amazing, and I love my mother a lot.
"My mom is honestly more excited about this than we are. She forced me to tell her everything, from the details of our making-out sessions to the color of your eyelashes," I say humorously, and Gee laughs quietly. "Well, where exactly do you live, then? Wait, no, meet me at that small park over by the gas station. There's only one gas station in this blasted neighborhood, anyways, so your directional sense shouldn't get too confused," he teases, and I scoff, smiling to myself.
We agree on the time and plans, exchanging sincere, loving expressions and smooches. I hang up and return to Winter Soldiers #3, excited about seeing Gee and meeting his family. He always talks about them like they're the best people in the world, and I've talked to Mikey and Donna a few times over the phone, but I'm stoked to meet them in person.
In order to not look like a zombie, I decide to get some sleep. I set aside the comic and slip under my covers, a smile on my face.
I have no life, spending hours in here and doing nothing. But now that something is finally about to happen, I feel quite accomplished.
***
"Frank, come on," my mother whines shrilly, flailing her arms as she decides on the right earrings for me to wear. I step over to her and shove her aside gently, picking up some small black ones. She insists on putting them in for me, and I roll my eyes with a sigh. "Mom, I'm twenty-two. Almost twenty-three. I can do this by myself," I grumble, and she slips in the other earring.
Linda fixes my dark red sweater and licks her hand, rubbing it on the side of my lip. "Mom!" I shriek, and she smothers me with kisses. I scream dramatically and claw out at air, shaking my head and closing my eyes. It ends on the sofa, my mother attacking me with kisses and nose-brushes, and she finally relents. "Now you've gone and messed up your hair!" she scolds playfully, licking her palms and running her hands through my hair.
I grunt as she fixes my lip ring for the sixth time, and then straightens her own sweater and scarf. "There. You look presentable," she whispers, "Oh, I'm so proud of you, Frankie! I get to meet your boyfriend and his family! You better name your kids after me."
We burst into gales of laughter, not stopping until we reach the door. "Okay, okay," Linda breathes, nodding, "Keep it together. We're gonna walk, since it's only a few minutes away..." I moan in protest, but quickly mask it with a fake cough upon receiving a deathly glare from her. "And no funny business. Don't embarrass yourself," she adds, and I gasp sarcastically.
"Me? Embarrassing? Never!" I cry, and she giggles, slipping her hand around my forearm. We walk to the park through the cold air, Halloween approaching at an unbelievably fast rate. Linda snuggles into her scarf and lets out a trembling breath, and I pull her closer for warmth. I'm freezing, she's freezing, and we're just overly-excited. So we're shivering from the cold and from the excitement.
I just saw Gerard yesterday morning, and since then, we've talked on the phone for maybe six hours, not to mention the many texts we've sent to each other. About what? Well, we talk about a lot of things. From the jerks in our college and the very noisy female student to the right of our dorm (whom we believe partakes in many one-night stands), we talk about all sorts of shit. I've told him all about my songs, including the one at the coming out party, and he's told me about how he enjoys singing and being extremely theatrical while doing it.
In fact, back at the dorms, he showed me many of these shows... Well, more like I walked in on him while he was showering, though I did so on purpose. It's amazing how wide his eyes can get and how high he can jump; in fact, I'm surprised that he hasn't hurt himself in the shower yet.
The large spread of dead, browning grass that the neighborhood calls a "park" is a few hundred feet away, and my mother and I quickly approach it. With any luck, we'll either go to the small book store located next to a Dunkin' Donuts or to Gerard's home. There are several trees planted around the park, though they've all been stripped of their leaves and they're dying, and beneath a few sit little wooden benches. I can make out three figures sitting on one of these benches, and that mess of black hair is unmistakable.
"Gee!" I squeal, letting go of my mother and sprinting as though I'm running a marathon and I can see the finish line. One of the figures turns and jumps to their feet, running in my direction at a speed that Gerard can somehow manage. He's not very athletic, but at the pace he's running, one would assume that he frequently goes to track meets and competes. "Frankie!" he screams back, and we meet with a painful collision and a warm embrace. Linda catches up to me and clasps her hands together, and Donna and Mikey stand up from the benches and walk over to the gleeful scene, smiling and waving.
Gerard and I break apart, but stay extremely close. There's no such thing as personal space with him. "Gerard, Linda, mom, Gerard," I say cheerfully, offering Gee up to my mother with a small push. He smiles nervously and sticks out a hand, but my mother smacks his hand away and hugs him. "Oh, you look just like Frank said!" she cries, and Gerard reddens slightly, "You two are the cutest! And is this your family?"
Gee nods and Linda pulls back, shaking Donna's hand and hugging Mikey. "And aren't you adorable," she teases Mikey, pushing his glasses up to his eyes. They're at the very edge of his nose, just like Gerard said they always were. Mikey returns the glasses to their original position and smiles painfully. "I'm not adorable," he replies irritably, and Donna shakes her head. "It's just a phase," she explains with a grimace, and Mikey glares at her.
Donna approaches me and pulls me in for a hug, smelling of cookies and other foods that make my mouth water. She must be a pretty great cook. "Oh, Gerard was right," she says, pulling away and pulling my sleeve back, examining a few of my tattoos, "You are gorgeous, a piece of art."
Now it's my turn to blush, and I back up into Gerard and Mikey, and our moms hit it off right away. At least they both have emo children, so that's a start. "She hasn't been this happy since that guy was killed off in her favorite soap opera," Mikey mutters under his breath, and Gee nods. "True. That was a very unfortunate moment for our ears. She gets very into her television programs," he explains further, and I laugh.
"Oh really? I love that brand of coffee! Have you tried some caramel in it?" Donna cries, placing a hand on Linda's shoulder.
"No! Is it good?"
"Oh, God, you have to try it. No, actually, let's go to my house and I'll make you some."
"Really? I don't want to be a bother."
"Funny. No, seriously, come on, boys, to the Way house!"
Donna shouts the last part out to us, and we follow the animated pair towards Gerard's house. "I'm so glad they're friends," Gee says graciously, slipping his hand into mine. Mikey smiles and nods, but it's obvious that he's feeling quite awkward as the third wheel. "Umm, Ma?" Mikey asks as we approach a corner.
"What, Mikes?" Donna asks sweetly, and Mikey bites his lip. "Could I meet some of my friends at the guitar store?" he asks, but even I can tell that he's making up some parts of that question. Donna laughs and exchanges glances with Gerard, who's biting back his laughter. "Mikey, you don't have any friends," she replies sadly, and Mikey frowns at the street.
Harsh.
"Well, on that depressing note, I'm gonna go hang out with myself at the guitar store then. Love you too," Mikey speaks softly, and then walks in the opposite direction. I feel kind of sad for him, but continue walking with the group. Mikey leaving is probably better than him staying; he seems incredibly distant, anyways, but it should only take a few days to get him to crack. I can do that to people, I find.
Especially Gerard.
***
Gerard's P.O.V.
***
Frank leaps onto my bed, the small thing creaking slightly. I flick on the light that I barely ever use, but Frank shakes his head. "No, keep it off. You like it like that," he says quietly, so I shrug and turn it back off. My room is littered with comics and boxes and art supplies and dirty clothes and even some prescription bottles.
But Frank doesn't care.
"What do you want to do?" I ask hopefully, eyeing the small television that sits on the dresser a few feet in front of my bed. Frank follows my quick gaze and gestures to the T.V., and so I turn it on and join him on my bed. We cuddle up just like we did every night at the dorms, with me leaning into his chest and him stroking my hair with his arm around me.
This is always so perfect.
On the television, some random show is playing, but I recognize it as Cake Boss. In New Jersey, he's a big deal; I haven't personally visited Carlo's Bakery, but I love the show. I find myself getting lost in the intricate lace designs that he's able to pipe onto the cakes, amazed by how detailed some of the goodies are that the bakery makes. "What show is this?" Frank asks softly, kissing my greasy mess of hair. I haven't washed it for a few days, but that doesn't ever stop Frank from playing with it or kissing it. In fact, one reason it's been getting so greasy so quickly lately is because he's always touching it.
"You've never seen Cake Boss?" I exclaim unbelievingly, and he shakes his head. I explain to him the most basic background, which he retains none of, and asks me a lot of questions during the remainder of the episode. "He's Butter's cousin? They don't even look anything alike!" Frank cries as the television boasts Frankie's name and his smiling face.
I giggle and shake my head. "His name is Buddy, and I dunno. They're Italian, the whole lot. I'm Italian, too, and I'm surprised by who I'm related to at times," I reply, and Frank's eyebrows rise. "You're Italian? Me too!" he says excitedly.
We exchange cheerful smiles, which slowly fade away as we get lost in each others' eyes. This sounds so cliché and immature, but I love his eyes. So much. I stare at them even when they're not already focused on mine, and we look into each others' eyes so often that I completely forget who I am at times.
"You really are the most beautiful person I've ever seen," Frank whispers, planting a gentle kiss on my lips. I close my eyes and shift so that my neck isn't bent at the most awkward, painful position. He wraps his short arms around my neck and laces my hair around his fingers. We lean into the kiss, eventually laying down on the bed, with Frank crushing me.
Well, as much as a man of five feet and a few inches can crush someone.
"Aw, look at you two," a voice cries eagerly, and a shutter of a camera can be heard. I blink and look towards the source of the noise, and Frank pulls away and smiles at our mothers standing at the base of the steps. "Hey guys," I say sheepishly, but I could care less if they walked in.
On this, at least.
"We just wanted to know what kind of pizza you guys wanted," Donna says, placing her hands on her hips, trying to appear stern even though she's attempting to hide a smile.
Frank and I giggle and he sits on my stomach, and he says, "I can't really eat pizza. Lactose intolerant," he explains, and Donna frowns. "What a shame! How about some breadsticks and a salad?" she offers, and Frank nods. "That'd be great, thanks," he replies, and I smirk.
"I already know what you want," Donna croaks at me, cutting me off before I can even say anything. I close my mouth and smile, and the women head back upstairs giggling and discussing the scene. They're too funny. Real comedians. "I'm up for more if you are," Frank teases, laying back down on my stomach.
Let the kissing commence.
***
"So, Frank, what classes are you taking?" Donna asks Frank, handing him his salad and a whole box of breadsticks. He smiles excitedly and glances back up at her. "Thank you," he says graciously, "I'm taking a few composition classes. I'm a musician." Donna gasps and looks around for Mikey, but he's not here. "Oh," she says, a bit disappointed that she can't show off her son's musical abilities, "Well, Mikes plays the bass. And he's really good. You're always welcome to come over and play some music with him! Or make out with Gee, whichever you fancy."
Frank and I share a stupid giggle, and we head back downstairs to enjoy our dinner. Linda calls after Frank, "Hey! I love you!" We continue walking, but Frank smooches loudly in reply. We descend to my room and resume watching Cake Boss, and they're doing some cake for the city of Hoboken. "God, that looks heavenly," Frank says through a mouthful of breadstick, and I glance sideways at him.
"No it doesn't, because your face isn't on it."
"Well your dick isn't on it, so I guess we're both wrong," Frank replies without hesitation. I smirk and take a bite of chicken ranch pizza. "Are you trying to suggest we do something?" I ask back, and he grins, shrugging. "Maybe I am, you sexy animal," Frank chimes, setting down the food and putting on his best sexy face.
He's such a fucking weirdo, but that's why I love him. "Let's do that something, then," I say smugly, and Frank gasps. "Yay! A game of Magic it is!" he cries, leaping off of the bed reaching into his pocket, pulling out two random decks of Magic cards. How I didn't notice that he even had those, I'm not sure, but I just roll with it.
What a sexy nerd I'm stuck with, but in all honesty, I have nothing wrong with this geekiness.
"You're on."