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Honestly, they should’ve just talked about it. The Thing was something unspoken they did without explaining the reason behind it.
The “thing” being the kissing.
The first time they’d done it was at one of their smaller shows back in 2003, a simple garage band show to break up the chaos of performing at actual venues. It hadn’t been advertised to try and avoid overcrowding, but this meant the people at the house weren’t actual fans of them, they weren’t familiar with them as a whole.
Gerard had his mouth pressed to his mic, singing his heart out into the lyrics like his life depends on it even though it doesn’t, Mikey smiled as he watched his brother, dancing as well as he could while playing the bass. Ray grinned with lips stretched across his face, following along and slamming down complicated chords on the guitar while Frank filled the notes in between.
They aren’t even doing anything exceptionally “strange” or unusual, they’ve been far weirder in the past.
That doesn’t stop one of the party goers from scoffing at them, rolling his eyes and leaning to his friend, as if he were going to whisper, and loudly remarking: “I didn’t know the entertainment would be a bunch of fags on display.”
Gerard stumbled over a line, taken aback by the comment, frowning at the man who was only a few feet in front of him anyway. He could fathom why he’d even say that, but he wasn’t focused on that, he was more focused on that fucking pissed feeling sizzling in his chest. Why the fuck would it matter if they were a “bunch of fags” anyway? It’s not like they were bad at playing or anything, it’s not like it ruined the show. So why the fuck did it matter?
Gerard’s eyes darted to the others to see if they’d heard him too, only half focused on singing now, the words coming out a little less passionate as he looked around. Mikey doesn’t make any exceptionally visible reaction, except for the sudden furrow in his brows, the tiny downturn in his lips. Ray’s smile had dropped the slightest and the pep in his step had dimmed, leading him to just stand and sway instead of dance. Frank looked seconds away from dropping his guitar and kicking the man, that or smashing the dude’s face in with it.
Gerard tried to ignore the comment, brush it off. He’s had worse names thrown at him, been properly insulted a dozen times before. It came with how he dressed and expressed himself, he knew that, it didn’t mean he had to be happy with it.
He was just about past it when the guy mumbled again.
“If I wanted to see a bunch of fairies, I’d go watch Tinkerbell with my kid.” He said, this time to the room and some people snickered at it.
Gerard felt a flame ignite in his blood, anger coursing through his veins and he turned to Frank and beckoned for him to get closer.
Now, Gerard wasn’t entirely sure what his plan was, but Frank seemed to know it because he grinned wickedly and stepped over, fingers still flying across the fret of his guitar, strumming away while Ray began slamming down on his own strings with intent, glaring at the room of people like he was trying to melt them with his gaze. Mikey seemed to be ignoring everyone now, simply focused on the bass while Frank stood at Gerard’s side.
Gerard waited until there was ample enough space between lyrics before reaching over and grabbing Frank by the collar. Frank grinned at this and let Gerard pull him, their lips slamming together right there front and center for all these morons to see.
The guy who’d been commenting now shifted uncomfortably, like they were some disgusting thing he had to witness and Gerard grinned. Sure, he was a bigotted fuck and he deserved to have his face smashed in, but if witnessing two guys fucking kiss made him so uncomfortable, well Gerard felt a little victorious about that.
The kiss wasn’t even anything intense, simple lips smashed against lips, not even moving because Gerard had to pull away and get back to singing and Frank was still focused on playing his guitar.
But the point had been made and some people had apparently been so uncomfortable they completely left the room. Someone wolf whistled at them and Frank laughed at his side as they resumed their act like nothing had happened.
Neither of them talked about it, there wasn’t even anything to talk about in the first place. It was a sort of understood thing that they’d done it to piss that homophobic asshole off. Gerard did shit like that often, existing in a certain way to make people mad, he enjoyed being himself, he enjoyed spitting in the faces of people who hated that.
So they just didn’t talk about it.
But that singular kiss opened a floodgate.
The next time, it came as a surprise to Gerard, but he didn’t mind.
They’re recording their music video for I’m Not Okay, most of the day was spent recording the higher energy clips. They were finally out of the tight uniforms, free to dress in their preferred clothes and crammed into a small room to sing.
Gerard gets very into his music, on stage, when recording the album, when taping the music videos, he gets so entirely into his music that he almost entirely tunes everything else out, focusing only on the meaning he wants to push into the words. He wants for the people listen to hear his emotion, to feel it just by watching him perform and he channels that want into every inch of his singing.
This was the third take of them shooting the scene in the garage, Gerard’s knee was scraped up from tripping over Frank’s mic stand earlier and he was using the slight sting from it to force even more emotion into his lyrics. He was tired, it was hot, he wasn’t really paying attention to the others around him while singing, focused on just getting this final take over without looking like he wanted it to be over with.
So of course he didn’t even notice Frank had gotten closer to him for his line, that he had a grin on his lips as he siddled up to his side.
Gerard hears Frank’s “Trust me,” barely a second before Frank’s lips are then pressed against his face, a hand gently cradling along the back of his head and pulling him closer. Gerard doesn’t even realise how he all but melts into his hold, letting his head be tipped down so Frank can lean up on his toes to actually reach Gerard’s face. He doesn’t even realise the kiss has happened at all until a few minutes later when they’re rewatching the take to make sure they’re finally free to go.
The man showing them the footage vaguely gestured at the kiss as Gerard raised an eyebrow. “We can edit that out, no worries.” He said and Gerard shook his head.
“No?” He said and shrugged. “Keep it in, it works.”
The man shrugged back at him and dismissed them for their final take on the stairs.
Gerard doesn’t ask why Frank did it later, and Frank doesn’t even really acknowledge that it’s happened, so they don’t talk about it either.
The next time, Gerard had been kind of expecting it, to be honest.
They’re performing I’m Not Okay on the Conan O’Brein show, and once again, Gerard is giving it his all. As always, he’s giving the performance his all, a step down from crawling around the stage, but still a step up from most performers. He’s screaming the lyrics at the audience like he can make them sing with him if he commanded it enough. He stands on the stage with his friends and brother while singing their current most popular song and he’s at a high of emotions.
Gerard gets himself lost into the music, into that feeling you get when you’re having fun with your friends, he smiles when he starts headbanging and Ray and Frank wordlessly mirror him, nodding in unison before Gerard begins to bounce about the stage once more.
He’s screaming hard into the microphone, his voice is definitely going to be gone tomorrow, and he’s kind of expecting Frank to kiss him on the cheek after his line like he did for the music video. Gerard becomes hyper aware of where Frank is, almost anxiously awaiting him to come over, and when Frank screams into his microphone, voice just as rough as Gerard’s, and doesn’t move to plant one on him, Gerard honestly feels a little disappointed, though he couldn’t explain why.
But it doesn’t matter, and it’s no big deal and there’s thirty seconds of the song left.
They finished it up and the crowd began to applaud them, the sound ringing in Gerard’s ears as he quickly placed his microphone down, turning to his friends as Conan walked over to compliment them on their playing.
He thanked them for playing, going to each of them and shaking their hand with a proud steady smile. Gerard smiled back at him, grateful, truly, for this chance to play music, shaking his hand firmly as Frank ran up next to him, hugging Conan instead of shaking his hand. Gerard’s smile grew wider when Conan quickly hugged him back, not even phased by how touchy he was and Gerard turned to the others as Conan gave his commercial break line.
Frank turned to Gerard quickly, hands reaching up fast and holding both sides of his face, pulling him into a quick, happy kiss, their lips brushing against each other’s very briefly.
Gerard blinks and Frank has pulled away, practically skipping off the stage to catch up with Ray, who’s already carrying their guitars off stage as the crowd began to scream at the kiss.
Mikey shoulder checked Gerard to get him moving and he turned, following the others.
As soon as they’re all behind stage, Frank is launching into excitedly rambling about how cool that all just was, seemingly completely ignoring the kiss.
So they don’t talk about that one either.
There’s a few more kisses now and then between that and the next major one Gerard really remembered. Quick kisses along his jaw, on his neck, his cheek. Only ever during shows or right after when they’re still standing on the stage. Gerard never minds, he’s not sure why Frank’s started doing it so much, but he doesn’t mind. In fact he lets himself melt into the feeling every time, clinging onto the phantom feeling of Frank’s lips on him throughout every performance.
Soon there begins to be lingering touches, a hand meticulously placed on his waist, dragging along his back, cradling the back of his head. Gerard lets him, leans into the feeling to let Frank know it’s welcomed. He only ever does it on stage, when they’re recording a video or preforming. Gerard can’t help but be a little disappointed it doesn’t happen behind closed doors.
But they don’t talk about it, so he doesn’t mention it.
The next kiss Gerard really remembered, the first one that would really stick with him for months after it happened, was during another show.
They were once again playing I’m Not Okay, and Gerard is starting to think this might be some sort of secret hack to getting kissed.
The show starts, the drums come to life, the bass rang out melodically through the speakers, the mixed guitars begin to swell in the air and Gerard began to sing.
He’s been singing too hard, jumping around too much, and it became evident the moment he opened his mouth, his head starting to swim, his vision beginning to fade out, that feeling of near-passing out clouding over his mind. He needed to sit down for a second, but he didn’t know how without making everyone in the venue worried, so, in typical Gerard Way fashion, he dramatically fell to his knees, shaking while screaming into his microphone, flopping down onto the stage and laughing a little into the mic as the world teetered to the side for a second. He laid on his side, shoulder pressed to the ground, sweaty cheek resting on the cold stage floor. Yeah... Yeah he needed to lie down for a second. He could sing on the ground, it was fine.
His attempt at not worrying his bandmates had clearly failed as Mikey took a few steps backwards so he was closer to his brother, shooting him a worried look and Gerard could see Ray out of the corner of his eyes watching him with concerned eyes as well.
Frank was already across the stage in seconds, knelt down next to him before Gerard could even blink, throwing a leg over him so he was sat on Gerard’s thighs, straddling him and Gerard felt his breath catch in his throat but he mentally shook it off, focusing on the mic in his hand and not the warmth spreading through his body where Frank’s touched his. He let his bandmate sit on him like it was nothing, ignoring the increased screams and cheers for their fans.
Frank looked at him, eyes soft and curious and mouthed are you okay?, concern floating in his eyes and Gerard smiled wider at him, nodding up with a soft “ Yeah,” before shooting him a wink, trying to settle his own nerves as his mind began to calm and that passing out feeling faded away.
Frank, still concerned, let go of his guitar, stopping playing right there in the middle of their show, to reach forward, gentle warm hands resting on Gerard’s soft cheeks, leaning down to press a gentle, soft kiss to his cheek, gentle, comforting and Gerard closed his eyes under the pressure of his lips for a second, his heart skipping a beat and he felt a manic giggle escape his lips as Frank moved away.
The guitarist went back to playing, leaning backwards and moving off of Gerard so they were both laying down, playing off Gerard’s lightheadnesses as part of the show as Gerard forced himself to shake the warm tingle sliding down his spine, mic pulled to his lips as he began to sing.
The rest of the show, Gerard’s legs felt cold, missing the weight and warmth of Frank sitting on him, his cheek tingled like they missed Frank’s lips and he had to keep shaking his head to try and brush the feeling off.
This kiss had been a lot gentler, less preformative to get a reaction out of people and more genuine, an attempt to help soothe Gerard when he’d been seconds from passing out. It felt... real in a sense and Gerard wanted to ask about it, ask why Frank had done that, why it felt different. Why it had been so soft and gentle compared to the other spur of the moment kisses. But Frank didn’t say anything, so Gerard didn’t.
They didn’t talk about it.
The next kiss is when Gerard starts to think maybe they should start talking about it.
For once it doesn’t happen when they’re playing I’m Not Okay, in fact, they’d been able to play the song a few times now without any kisses being exchanged and Gerard tried to pretend like he wasn’t disappointed by this fact.
It’s a bit chilly that night, but the hardcore playing and jumping around had warmed them up a bit. Gerard was in that uncomfortable phase of being sweaty but still shivering a bit from the chill in the air. He wanted to tear his jacket off and set it on fire as it clung to his sticky skin, but it was one of his only sources of warmth for the time being.
So he focused his discomfort into his performance, trying to push past the feeling of wanting to just crawl out of his skin.
They get to Give ‘Em Hell Kid before Gerard genuinely begins to consider tearing his skin off, so much to the point he’s stopped jumping around on stage and he can tell the others have noticed his discomfort because he’s once again getting shot those worried glances.
They needed to stop worrying so much over him, he wasn’t a baby he was a fucking adult, he could handle himself. Ignoring the fact he genuinely wanted to start screaming over how uncomfortable he felt at the moment.
He’s on the last line of the song when Frank paused right next to him, swinging his guitar around and moving towards Gerard with intent and Gerard felt his heart begin to excitedly race in his chest.
Hands grab the side of his face, holding him tightly in place and it was a nice pressure on his head, lips locking with Gerard’s and he didn’t even get to properly finish the line when Frank had cut him off.
Their lips began to move, and this was new , this was different than the last kisses and Gerard felt panic flood his veins for a second and he started walking backwards, but Frank followed after, determined and deepening the kiss and Gerard felt himself kissing just as intensely back. Despite his steps, despite his body feeling as if it were trying to run away, Gerard leaned forward into the kiss, neck craning to meet where his body walked away from. He rested his own hand on Frank’s shoulder, slowly slipping down as they moved backwards together.
Frank dropped his hands, the normal cue for the kiss to end but Gerard’s mind wasn’t caught all the way up and he lingered for a moment before his brain processed and he quickly pulled away, noting the music cue and trying to nonchalantly play off the kiss, like it hadn’t affected him as much as it really had. He quickly rushed out the last lines of the song, trying to catch up with the ending as he walked back to the center of the stage, not realising how far he and Frank had walked while they’d been otherwise occupied.
The last notes of the song play out as everyone walked around the stage, casual like nothing had just happened and the audience is screaming and he’s riding the high of the kiss, so he grinned at the audience.
“Boy, he sure is a good kisser!” He shrieked into his mic, laughing a little and he heard Frank laugh from his end of the stage.
Gerard hadn’t even noticed until they ended the show that the tearing his skin off feeling had dissipated. That even though he’d still been uncomfortable, his mind had stuck on the kiss rather than the jacket sticking to his skin.
They should talk about it, because it was more intense than the last ones, because they’d never made out like that before, no matter how brief it’d been, and they should’ve talked about it years ago after the first one but they hadn’t.
They hadn’t talked about it then, and at this point it feels like it’s too late. So still, they don’t talk about it.
After that one, they begin to “act up” (as Mikey called it once) a lot more on stage. Frank pulled Gerard into deep kisses more, let his hands wander over his body as they moved around, pushed Gerard to his knees and grinded against the side of his face, rubbed his face against Gerard’s shoulder like a puppy before kissing him and Gerard let him every time.
Each time, Gerard let his body go limp, let Frank move him around as he pleased like a ragdoll, let Frank grab at him, rub up on him, let his hands trace against his skin and clothes like it was nothing. Let Frank lick his neck, kiss desperately into his mouth, pull him flush against his waist.
It was only ever on stage, though. Frank was pretty touchy off stage, but not that far, never that far.
And it was only ever Frank who initiated it. Gerard was always willingly going along with whatever Frank was doing, but he never started anything.
Neither of them talked about it. They just continued to kiss on stage like it was nothing. It was beginning to get harder and harder to act like it hadn’t ever meant anything. Like the kisses were just that, kisses, and not dances with their tongues moving in a waltz they had made up the moves for.
Gerard tried to pretend like he didn’t think about it at night. Like he wouldn’t lay on tour bus bunks, remembering the feeling of Frank’s lips crashing into his, wouldn't remember the warmth of whatever body part Frank had pressed against him flooding through his body, like Frank wasn’t completely and utterly desirable.
It meant nothing, they meant nothing , because if they had meant something, Frank wouldn’t just do it on stage. He wouldn’t grin at the audience and give them a cheeky wink before pulling Gerard in close. He wouldn’t wait for the applause to end to pull away from the band leader. He’d do it when no one was watching, not a fan in sight.
But he didn’t. And they didn’t talk about it, about what it meant. It just hung up in the air, completely unreachable, hovering right above Gerard’s finger tips in a tantalising way.
It’s fine though, he can cope with it. He can survive with the kissing and the touching and the grinding and whatever Frank offered him. He’d take the moments and commit every feeling of Frank touching him to memory, he’d untangle the memories late at night and let them lie like strings between his finger tips, staring at them with watchful eyes like if he blinks they’ll evaporate.
Everything is fine, or he thinks it is.
It’s not until Mikey brings it up that he realizes maybe it wasn’t.
Gerard is crouched over the tour bus table, sketching away as Mikey slid into the seat next to him, looking down at the paper with ever-bored eyes.
“Nice,” Mikey commented and Gerard smiled a little, continuing to draw with a small nod of acknowledgement. It’s quiet on the bus. Ray is in the bunks passed out while Frank is on a run to get some more groceries, having complained about their limited options for food all morning until Mikey told him to just go get food. It was a nice day out, not too cold, not too warm, quiet but with the soft buzzing sounds of bugs outside. Gerard loved tour days like this.
He and his brother sit in silence for a long moment before Mikey lightly sighed.
“Are you ever going to talk about it?” Mikey asked and it’s random, missing context so Gerard raised a confused eyebrow at him, pushing his hair back. It was in this slightly awkward phase of too long to be comfortably short but too short to be appropriately long. He’d been debating cutting it or continuing to let it grow out for the past week.
“Talk about what?” Gerard asked, turning back to his page, frowning a bit at how stiff the drawing was coming out and furiously erasing part of the pose and moving to fix it. Mikey shrugged next to him.
“Frank?” Mikey said.
“What about him?” Gerard asked, still clueless to what Mikey was getting at and Mikey slouched in his seat.
“The kisses.” Mikey stated blatantly. “Are you ever gonna talk about it?”
“What’s there to talk about?” Gerard asked simply and Mikey pinched the bridge of his nose.
“You’re kidding, right?” He asked, a little dumbfounded and Gerard finally fully turned to look at him, shaking his head a little curiously. “Gee, you’re not dumb, you know what I’m talking about.”
“Me and Frank kiss, sure,” Gerard shrugged. “What’s there to talk about? It’s just for,” He waved a hand around vaguely. “The fans and stuff.”
“I don’t buy that shit, so stop trying to sell me it.” Mikey scoffed. “I know you, I know it’s more than just performative for you.”
Gerard hated how easily his brother saw through him at times, and tried to play it off, rolling his shoulders back and going back to his drawing. He’d lost all motivation for it the moment the conversation had started though, and he was more pretending to draw at this point.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Gerard stated plainly and Mikey rolled his eyes.
“ Yes , I do.” Mikey said. “You get too in your head about these things, you know. Just talk to him.”
“Talk about what?” Gerard asked, sighing. “ Hey, you know how we kiss all the time, what if we kissed more? No, I can’t just say that.”
“Why not?” Mikey asked. “It’s Frank , the guy has adored you since before even joining the band.”
“And that’s the point.” Gerard said. “It’s not like he’d feel the same way, he just... adores me or whatever.”
“And how is it that you feel?” Mikey asked. Gerard is silent for a long moment, shifting his jaw from side to side a little, sighing heavily.
“I’m not too sure,” Gerard said and Mikey scoffed. “I’m not! Look, I’ve got a ton of shit fucked up with me, I don’t want to drag someone into that. It’s been hard for me to properly acknowledge how I feel about a lot of things without relying on other stuff to help me feel.”
Mikey’s expression gets sympathetic then and he softened a little.
“Well think about it,” Mikey said. “ Actually think about it. Not just after he kisses you next, or worse, but think about it now. Think about whatever the hell you’d like to end up being with him. And then talk to him about it.”
Mikey gets up then, walking away to do god knows what and leaving Gerard sitting there at the table with his thoughts.
He doesn't end up talking to Frank about it, not yet, at least.
He’s genuinely not 100% sure how he feels about Frank, and he doesn’t want to fuck it all up by trying to talk about feelings he may or may not have.
Gerard thought about it, thought about it hard . Thought about a future entailing Frank outside of the band scene, thought about what the kisses meant to him, how good his touches and lips felt, and still, he came up just slightly unsure. Slightly, but still unsure, and it was enough to keep him doubting and away from saying anything.
He needed some major deciding factor, something to help him truly see if what he felt was something real, tangible, or if it was just something created by how much they kept kissing.
So, he decided on something.
For the first time since that kiss in that random garage back in 2003, he’d kiss Frank first.
Gerard didn’t get a good chance for a while. He was too busy trying to find a perfect moment for it. Meanwhile, Frank kept touching him during their shows, acting like everything was fine and normal and not like Gerard had feelings swirling in his chest just waiting to break out.
It wasn’t until another tour, Projekt Revolution, that Gerard realised there wouldn’t be a “good chance” to kiss Frank, and that he just needed to do it . Frank never timed out their performance, never waited for the ideal moment to do whatever the hell he wanted, he just did , so Gerard decided he would too.
Except, the moment Gerard decided that, he became unsure of himself. Because what if he kissed Frank and didn't find an answer, or what if he kissed Frank and found the wrong answer. Both thoughts were nerve-wracking and Gerard could only focus on the what ifs for a majority of the show.
They’re performing their hearts out as always, but Gerard feels anxiety creeping along his bones the entire show, and so he’s more emotional than normal. Using anger and hurt to cover up the anxiety sunken deep in his skin.
There’s eyes watching him everywhere, his band mates are having the time of their lives playing their instrument. Despite the worry, Gerard feels on top of the world.
People like his music, they like his songs, they like the meaning and concept behind it all and want more . There’s fans sitting here looking up at him with something sharp and creative glimmering in their eyes, he can almost see the art and music being scribbled out onto pages in front of him. He did that, he inspired these people, he’s inspired so many and it has him feeling a bit like he’s flying.
Gerard danced around the stage, singing and singing and singing and he didn't even notice he walked over to Frank until the shorter man looked up at him curiously. He played it off by smiling and turning away, taking a few steps back until his mind caught up with everything.
There’s a break in his song right now.
He looked over at Frank, who was smiling, immersed in their music and playing away, fingers flying and slamming down on strings. His hair was long, sticking a little to his forehead from the sweat that had accumulated, his eyes were bright and wide, excited as he performed. He looked breathtaking and it made something stutter in Gerard’s chest.
Gerard stood on stage, in his all black attire, sweat stuck to his own forehead, the moon beaming over the audience, Frank’s blood dried to his cheek from where he’d wiped it on him earlier. He’s walking aimlessly across the stage, shooting glances to their fans who are cheering, and there’s a break in the music right now.
In that quick second, he made up his mind, pivoting on his heel and turning to Frank with intent. Frank’s eyes were heavy as he looked at him, something deep weighing in them as he watched Gerard close in.
The singer reached forward quickly, a hand pushing a long strand of hair back before resting on Frank’s neck, pulling him forward, their lips connecting quickly, passionately and Frank completely gave up on playing guitar he’d been so immersed in. They were in the middle of a show and Frank ignored all of it just so he could let his hands move quickly around Gerard’s waist, to desperately pull him close as Gerard moved their heads together, tilting as his hand ran down his head. His hands gripped at him, tight and desperate, clinging onto him like Gerard might vanish if he let go.
Gerard wanted to completely melt into the feeling, wanted to have Frank’s hand tugging at his waist for years, wanted to melt completely into his skin as his heart hammered heavily in his chest, but he’d timed the kiss just too late and he had to push Frank away to get back to singing. He shook his head, quick, trying to brush off the feeling of the other’s lips as he backed up.
Frank watched him walk away with wide eyes, fingers fumbling to go back to play the guitar as Gerard quickly turned away to try and clear his mind, to get back to singing and not sound as much of a mess as he felt.
It was different, being the one to initiate the kiss. It had felt more real because he’d meant it to, it’d felt solid and tangible and not something they never spoke about and it seized in his chest. It thudded and banged, desperate to break free and Gerard calmed himself as he lost himself into the lyrics.
They still had a bit of the show left and Gerard felt himself getting a little antsy as the end neared close. Gerard had almost expected Frank to cling to him the rest of the show after the kiss, press his face into his shoulder, grab at his waist, but he played like normal. Walked around the stage, jumped around, head banging to their music, like nothing had happened, and it made something almost painful twisted in Gerard’s chest.
Frank was behaving as usual while Gerard felt his entire world flip upside down. That kiss had felt real , felt warm and made something heavy like want settle nicely in his chest. He’d made up his mind, he wanted Frank, to be with him, to kiss him off stage, to do all that sappy couple shit with.
Gerard focused on the last few songs, announcing the next bands and trying to get the audience to cheer, to scream, to applaud, to drown out the ringing in his ears.
They finish the show and they get off stage, Ray immediately running off to buy a cup of coffee while their drummer and Mikey’s stand-in made their way back to the tour bus. It left Gerard and Frank backstage, helping get their equipment properly packed, feeling the high still from being on stage.
Nerves lit Gerard’s skin on fire and it felt like he was being burned alive every time Frank’s fingers brushed against when he passed him Ray’s guitar.
Gerard looked down at Frank’s hand, which wasn’t bleeding anymore but was covered in the stuff, his own guitar almost soaked in it. It had been such a small cut but gotten everywhere, and Gerard is hyper aware of the blood still stuck on his cheek.
“I need to sleep for a week,” Frank grumbled with a grin, shaking his head as he shut his own guitar case.
“Yeah,” Gerard said, the words sort of getting stuck in his throat and he nodded at Frank’s hand. “Should get that taken care of.”
Frank looked down at the cut on his hand and shrugged. “Nah, it stopped bleeding, should be good by now.” He said simply, buckling shut his guitar case before turning to Gerard with a smile. Frank brought a hand up and gestured at the smeared blood on the other's cheek. “Should probably wipe that off, though.”
Gerard swallowed thickly. He didn’t want to wipe it off, his sweat glistening on his face, mixed with Frank’s smeared blood, his lips still tingling from the kiss.
They need to talk about it.
“I’m okay,” Gerard said, his words getting lost into the air before him and maybe he shouldn’t have said that out loud cause it was really weird, but Frank just smiled cheekily at him, not the slightest bit phased.
Gerard is amazed he’s able to laugh and smile and exist like normal right now. Gerard’s entire world had been flipped upside down and he was barely holding onto the ground, gravity trying to fling him off into the sun.
He swallowed, thickly as Frank put away Ray’s guitar and set them on their travel case to be carted off for travel. Gerard stood still the entire time, his hands bunched into fists at his side, eyes steady and watching Frank’s every movement, careful, like if he blinked Frank might disappear.
His throat is thick, heavy, his heart is racing a mile a minute, his palms are sweaty and not just from the heat of the venue and the exertion of the show. He can’t speak, his lips won’t move, so he stood, silent and watching Frank move around swiftly and carefully, taking care of the instruments because their stagehand was busy handling technical difficulties from earlier.
It’s not until Frank picked up a broken pick from the floor that he realised Gerard hadn’t moved an inch and raised an eyebrow at him, frowning a little, concern swimming in his eyes.
“Gee?” He asked, voice gentle. “You okay?”
No. He definitely wasn’t, not even in the slightest sphere of okay. He had just come to terms with the fact he might full well be in love with his best friend and he doesn’t know what to do. He can’t say or do anything because it might ruin everything and Gerard can’t accept that.
Gerard found himself wishing, not for the first time, that Mikey wasn’t off fucking honeymooning or whatever it was he said he was doing. Gerard needed his brother here to help walk him through his own emotions, help him sort everything in his brain out.
But Mikey isn’t here, and Mikey is probably sleeping in bed after a long day of being romantic or some other shit. So Gerard is stuck standing awkwardly in front of Frank, wanting to kiss him, wanting to spend the rest of their lives together, and he can’t get his words to work.
He hasn’t said anything in response for a long while, and it caused Frank to come over, closer.
“Hey, do you need to sit?” Frank asked, reaching a hand up, gentle, comforting, on Gerard’s bicep, hand firm, a nice pressure through the jacket Gerard was still wearing. God, fuck this fucking jacket, Gerard wanted to feel Frank’s hands on his skin. “What’s going on?”
Wasn’t that a loaded question? Why couldn’t Frank just ask if his entire world had been shattered, that was an easy yes response for him. What’s going on required words and Gerard didn’t trust those right now. Not without confessing all the secrets that lay in his chest.
Gerard swallowed again, slow, heavy, and Frank watched the movement with a little furrow in his brows and he gently squeezed Gerard’s bicep.
“Okay, let’s sit you down for a second.” Frank said, using his gentle hold on him to lead him over to a seat nearby, gently pushing him to sit down and Gerard let him manipulate his body to his will as always. Frank seemed a little surprised by how easily Gerard moved under his touch, crouching before him. “Is everything okay?”
Gerard bit the inside of his cheek, slowly inhaling and leaning forward, burying his face in his hands.
“I need a moment,” He said, the words forming careful in his mouth and he heard Frank nod.
“Do you need me to go? Or get someone?” He asked and Gerard shook his head.
“Please stay,” He mumbled, the words sounding pathetic but Frank didn’t say anything in response, only shifted to sit cross legged on the ground in front of him.
They’re both silent for a very long moment, Gerard trying to gather himself, the words, the courage, to say anything about what just happened, but even after about fifteen minutes of steady breathing, he can’t find them.
He only looked up when Frank moved forward, resting a gentle hand on his knee and the touch sent electric sparks down Gerard’s body. God, how’d he never notice his feelings before, Gerard feels like climbing walls right now.
“You all good?” Frank asked as Gerard sat up, rolling his shoulders back. Frank’s thumb gently caressed the inside of Gerard’s knee and he wanted to melt into the feeling forever.
“Yeah,” Gerard said and Frank smiled.
“Good!” He said, and he doesn’t ask. Doesn’t ask what went wrong, smiles at Gerard like he trusts that if he wanted to, Gerard would tell him without hesitation. Fuck. “I’m still pretty wired from the show, do you want to watch a movie when we get back to the trailer? I’ll even let you pick one of your weird little movies.”
Fuck, Gerard loves him so much.
He’s moving before he even realised, hand stretching out and digging into Frank’s hair, fingertips resting on Frank’s scalp and Gerard marvelled at how instantly Frank melted back into his head, eyes dilating the slightest, leaning into the sensation.
Gerard’s eyes widened a little, jaw clenching as he pulled Frank a little closer and Frank let him. Let him pull him forward, grab him by his hair, move him without any reason. Gerard felt something in his stomach flip at how much Frank trusted Gerard and his head got a little foggy.
Frank said nothing, his eyes fluttered closed for a moment, head leaning back into Gerard’s fingers where they’re softly scratching against his scalp, almost curious. He said nothing and just sat there, half stood to get up, half still crouched before Gerard, a hand still rested on his knee but instead of gently resting there it’s not tightly gripping him.
“I’m gonna kiss you.” Gerard said, hesitant, words spoken slowly and he loosened his grip just a little in case he needed to bail. In case Frank called him some sort of name and pulled away in disgust. But he didn’t, instead Frank had made a small, desperate sound in the back of his throat and how was Gerard supposed to turn away now.
Gerard pulled Frank forward, their lips crashing against each other like they had on stage, but unlike before, Gerard didn’t need to start singing. They had all the time in the world for both of them to sink into the kiss.
Frank’s hand that wasn’t gripping Gerard’s knee moved to rest on his jaw, gripping and holding his face in place like Gerard would move away. Gerard’s hand not in Frank’s hair quickly rested on his hips, pulling him close, spreading his own legs so Frank could rest in between them easily, still half crouched, half standing.
It had to be uncomfortable, his back had to be strained leaning like this, but if Frank was in pain, he didn’t show it. Only gripped tightly onto Gerard, lips moving desperately, passionately against Gerard’s, hungry like he’d never get to taste his lips again.
It’s that that gets Gerard to realise.
Oh. They could’ve been doing this the entire time.
They didn’t have to keep waiting until they were on stage, didn’t have to wait until the guise of pretending to do this. To smash their lips together and pull at each other, as if they were trying to get under the other’s skin.
They could’ve had this all off stage as well. Long and deep kisses post show, quick cheeky good luck show kisses, languid and sleepy morning kisses. Gerard internally chides himself for not figuring it out earlier, but none of it matters right now because he has Frank Iero, crouched in between his legs, clinging onto him as he kisses him like he needs it.
Their lips move against each other, fast, familiar despite never having kissed like this before. Frank makes small, whiny little sounds in the back of his throat, his tongue desperately trying to lick into Gerard’s mouth. Gerard slowly let him in, face pressed hard into Frank’s, their teeth gently knocking against each other as Frank all but shoved his tongue down Gerard’s throat. Gerard’s nose was shoved against Frank’s cheek, Frank’s tongue licked inside Gerard’s mouth like he was trying to make a map of it, commit the feeling to memory and Gerard sighed deeply into the kiss.
He never wanted to part, didn’t want to let go of Frank, his grip in the guitarist’ hair tightening, gently pulling at his hair and Frank almost goes entirely limp in his hold, falling into Gerard’s chest and almost knocking him off the chair as a needy, desperate whine rushed itself out of his throat. Gerard swallowed down the sound before gently pulling against and Frank’s hands fumbled around him for a moment before settling on just surrounding him at the waist, pulling him into a sort of awkward hug, just clutching desperately at him.
Gerard isn’t quite sure how long they sit there, lips locked against each other’s, hands gripping tightly at the other. But eventually they do split apart, lips bruised and jaws aching and they only pull away when Gerard’s jaw made a loud clicking sound.
Frank looked at him, wide eyed with concern despite being blissed out from the kiss as Gerard gently rubbed at the side of his jaw.
“You okay?” Frank asked and Gerard’s stomach burns with want at how out of breath his sounds, his voice slightly gravely and he wanted to kiss him again, but the slight pain in his jaw shouts at him instead.
“Yeah,” Gerard said, and he’s surprised his sounded just as fucked as Frank. “It does this sometimes.”
Frank laughed softly, huffing with a careful smile, reaching forward to grab Gerard’s other hand, interlacing their fingers and squeezing gently. Gerard smiled back at him, softly, squeezing his hand back for a moment.
“Should probably stop for now, then.” Frank said and a slight cloud of worry passed over his expression, like maybe this was a one time thing and Gerard nodded slowly.
“There’s always next time,” Gerard said and that seemed to quell any of Frank’s worries, but he only smiled even brighter at him in response.
“Yeah, next time.” Frank said, and leaned down, pressing a kiss to their joint hands.
There’s no what are we conversation, because somehow they both just understand. They’re them , they’re together, in every sense of the word. They don’t just kiss for the stage, they kiss each other simply because they want to. There’s no one else for either of them, only gentle hands on skin whenever the other wanted.
So, somehow, even though they still don’t talk about it, it worked out.