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Game nights are the worst.
When Gerard came home for the summer break he thought he would spend the next few months like he always did: hiding in his basement and working on his passion project that would probably never see the light of day. He likes it that way. He has always preferred solitude, even if sometimes it makes him feel like he is going to spend the rest of his life alone, hiding from the world in his parents’ basement.
Mikey, however, had other plans. It seems he had been waiting for Gerard’s return specifically to drag him to every social gathering in Belleville and beyond and he is not going to take no for an answer.
Which leads to his current situation.
Gerard sighs and presses his forehead against the door. He should have known it, really: he has always had the worst kind of luck, so why would it change now? Why would the universe give him a break when it could kick his ass one more time, just for the sake of it?
It started as a game night at Ray’s house, and, since Mikey was involved, it felt like the entire population of New Jersey showed up, to Ray’s displeasure. Okay, in reality it was only eight of them, Ray included, but Ray’s room could barely fit all of them. Ray didn’t say anything, because Ray is not the kind of guy to cause a scene, but he made sure to give Mikey The Look. Not that Gerard really cared. He was more concerned about the fact that someone invited Frank fucking Iero, and, if Gerard had to think of it, it was probably Mikey who did that. All because Gerard once made the mistake of telling him that he may or may not like Frank more that it is appropriate for an acquaintance.
He is never confiding in his brother again.
The evening was going fine, for the most part. Gerard almost wasn’t getting distracted by Frank’s presence (was Frank staring at him all night? Gerard can’t tell), they managed not to kill each other over Ticket to Ride, and Gerard masterfully avoided teaming up with Frank during the game of Codenames, — mostly because he didn’t want to seem stupid, but really, who cares?
Apparently someone does.
Gerard noticed Mikey and Ray whispering about something in the hallway during the smoke break, with Geoff soon joining them, and by the glances the three were throwing in his direction it seemed that they were conspiring something. Frank disappeared somewhere in the first few seconds after the game round was over. Gerard almost had a chance to approach them and tell them to quit it but Ray managed to beat him to it.
“Gee, could you get more soda from the cooler?” he asked with such an innocent look on his face Gerard could sense the ruse coming up.
He still went to get the soda, like the idiot he is. And of course the cooler in question conveniently happened to be in the basement. And of course Frank was already there when Gerard came downstairs, rummaging through the cooler in search of soda. And, because Mikey’s friends are a bunch of assholes, someone locked the basement door the moment Gerard stepped inside.
“This is so fucking stupid,” Gerard complains.
He has spent the past few minutes banging on the door as Frank was cursing everyone and their mothers, with no effect. They're stuck. And while basements are Gerard’s natural habitat he isn't particularly eager to spend the night locked in here with Frank Iero of all people.
“Assholes,” Frank agrees. He has given up on getting out of the basement in the near future and decided to sit on the floor next to the godforsaken cooler. Gerard sits down next to him and rests his head against the wall.
He thinks he can hear loud voices and laughter coming from upstairs. They’re in for a long haul: Gerard has a certain suspicion that the guys have already forgotten about locking them in Ray’s basement, so they’re probably stuck in here until morning. Gerard really hopes neither of them will need to use the bathroom during this time.
“I think we should call someone,” he suggests.
Frank raises his eyebrows. “Like, the cops?”
“Yes,” Gerard deadpans. “Call the cops. We’ve been kidnapped.”
Frank snorts. “Right, because the cops crashing the party will get you so many Ray points.”
“There are Ray points?”
Frank stares at him in disbelief.
“Of course there are! You get them all and he might let you touch his guitar.”
Gerard lets out a short nervous giggle. Not because Frank’s little joke is particularly funny — even though Ray is so protective of his guitar it borders on unhealthy, — but because the realisation has finally hit him. He is stuck in a room with the guy he’s had a crush on for what feels like ages, and, depending on whether or not anyone bothers to remember about two people locked in Ray’s basement, they might spend hours together. This is bad. This is probably the worst situation Gerard has ever ended up in aside from that one time he got in trouble with the football team and spent several hours tied to a goal post in the middle of winter.
At least it’s warm in the basement. Definitely warmer than an average February evening in this part of the country.
“Got anything in mind?” Frank asks.
Gerard takes a look at him. “What do you mean?”
“We're stuck here, right? Might as well find something to do.”
Gerard replies with a nonchalant shrug. He is going to embarrass himself, he just knows that, so it’s better to keep his mouth shut and wait until someone upstairs remembers about his existence.
“Would you rather have one good friend or a bunch of acquaintances?”
Gerard blinks. “What?”
“It’s a game,” Frank grins. “Come on, pick one.”
Gerard isn’t sure he wants to play. It sort of contradicts his plan of staying quiet and waiting until it all blows over. But Frank is expecting an answer, and it feels rude to shut him down like that, so maybe Gerard can entertain his idea of playing a stupid game to pass the time.
“One good friend,” he replies. “I think. I mean, better to have one person you can really talk to than a bunch of people you barely know, right?”
Frank hums. “Yeah, makes sense. Your turn.”
Gerard takes a few moments to think. Games like this can end horribly, he knows that from personal experience, and the last thing Gerard wants is to mess up and make Frank believe he’s an asshole.
“Okay,” he breathes out. “Would you rather have a steady but boring job, like, one of those soul-sucking bullshit office jobs, or something that’s cool and exciting but doesn’t pay that well?”
He doesn’t ask because he has been worried about his own future and the possibility of ending up as one of a billion other office workers spending all day doing nothing. Of course not.
“The cool one,” Frank replies. It doesn’t take him even a second to think. “Obviously. You?”
“It’s your turn.”
Frank rolls his eyes. “Come on, man, the whole point is to get to know each other better.”
Gerard can’t argue with that reasoning.
“I’m not sure,” he confesses. “I mean, I don't want a bullshit office job, of course, but I guess I’ll have to get one anyway?”
Frank frowns. “I thought you were studying Art. Did Mikey make it all up?”
“Mikey told you about me?”
“Dude, he won't shut up about you!”
Which is concerning. If Mikey was telling Frank all sorts of things, who knows what he could have let slip.
“I mean, seriously,” Frank continues. “It's like he wanted us to—” He stops, realisation slowly dawning on him. “Motherfucker.”
“He wanted us to what?”
“Son of a bitch, he set us up!”
Gerard can barely suppress a laugh. “You only just figured it out?”
“He’s not my brother, excuse me for not knowing what he's up to!”
“I didn't know what he was doing either,” Gerard admits. “It's too much like…”
“Like those dumb romance movies, right?”
Gerard nods.
For a few moments neither of them speaks. Gerard stares at his hands, suddenly too aware of Frank being so close to him. Their knees almost touch, and if Gerard had a little bit more courage he probably would have dared press his shoulder against Frank’s just to see the reaction, see if he even has a chance in the first place.
“You know,” Frank says. “I don't really mind this.”
“Really?”
“Mhm,” Frank nods. “I kinda… this is gonna sound stupid.”
Just say it, Gerard wants to shout. He is about to allow himself to hope, and this is going to be a mistake, coming to this party in the first place was a mistake, he should have stayed at home.
“I kinda hoped something like that would happen,” Frank finally says, and Gerard’s heart skips a beat. “Not, like, exactly like this, but I hoped I could get a chance to talk to you without that fucking betting pool.”
“Of course they have a betting pool,” Gerard mutters under his breath. He isn’t even disappointed at this point.
Frank either doesn’t hear him or chooses to ignore Gerard’s remark. Not that it changes much, because his next words make Gerard instantly forget about the betting pool.
“I like you,” Frank pointedly doesn’t look him in the eyes. “I think you’re sweet, and I’ve been meaning to ask you out but I couldn’t find the right words, and then you moved to New York and I thought that I don’t have a chance now, but then Mikey told me you were single, but I still don’t know how to fucking say it, and—”
Gerard kisses him. Frank lets out a tiny surprised noise and for a second Gerard thinks he made a mistake, but then, after what feels like an eternity, Frank returns the kiss, and if Gerard wasn’t already sitting on the floor he would have probably lost his balance from the sheer intensity of it.
The sound of footsteps coming from the outside makes them break the kiss. Gerard recognises Ray and Mikey’s voices, and the euphoria of kissing Frank motherfucking Iero immediately disperses.
“Should we tell them?” he whispers.
Frank responds with a mischievous grin. “Nope. I don’t wanna give them the satisfaction.”
Gerard nods and moves closer to the door, doing his best to calm himself down. Frank pulls out his phone, and Gerard does the same seconds before the door opens. Gerard pretends to look up from his phone screen and stares at Ray. Behind his back he notices Mikey, clearly disappointed to find Frank and Gerard on their phones instead of doing whatever it is Mikey must have imagined them doing.
“Guys?” Ray asks. “Are you alright in here?”
“No thanks to you,” Frank bites back.
“Sorry,” Ray mumbles. “It was his idea,” he nods at Mikey.
“Thanks, man,” Mikey crosses his arms. “Really fuckin’ appreciate it.”
“Come on, it’s the truth!”
“Doesn’t mean you gotta rat me out like that!”
“Can we please just go back upstairs?” Frank chimes in. “I’m fucking sick of this place.”
Ray is only happy to oblige. The entire idea of setting people up seems to make him uncomfortable, if him whispering something to Mikey as they’re walking upstairs is anything to go by. Gerard can barely suppress a satisfied grin as he watches his brother wallow in misery and disappointment. He is going to tell Mikey everything, of course. Just not right now. He deserves to be left in the dark for a few hours after what he has done.
Frank’s hand touches Gerard’s wrist. They exchange knowing looks, and Frank winks at Gerard before rushing upstairs, and Gerard has no other choice but to follow him.
This is the best game night ever.