Chapter Text
Gerard looked at his phone at the end of the day to find a text from his little brother, Mikey. Come to my locker after the bell, it read. Gerard groaned softly. Why did Mikey have to fuck around? Couldn’t he tell that the only thing Gerard wanted to do was go straight home and bask in his own misery in the basement? Apparently not.
After the bell rang and class was finally over, Gerard packed up his things and made his way to Mikey’s locker in the freshman wing. He couldn’t just leave without him; his mom would probably take away his car and then they’d both have to walk. Mikey was standing there, thoroughly engaged in a lively conversation with his best friend Pete. Gerard pretended not to notice when Pete’s hand lingered on Mikey’s shoulder for a second too long.
“What’s up, Mikes?” he asked, indifferent to the fact that he was interrupting their chat.
“Pete and I are staying after school today so I need to you stay here and wait so you can give us a ride home,” Mikey explained quickly, like he knew what Gerard’s reaction would be.
“Mikey,” he groaned and threw his head back. “Fucking why?”
“We have track practice,” Pete supplied.
“Ugh, I forgot you were doing that,” Gerard sighed. “Doesn’t that take a while? Can’t I just go home and pick you up later?”
“No, Gerard,” Mikey said sternly as he pulled his gym bag out of his locker. “The first couple practices are only an hour. It would be stupid to go home and then come back. Besides, fresh air and sun is good for you once in a while.”
“Mikey, honestly…” Gerard started and then trailed off. He knew a losing argument when he heard one.
“Come on, it’s so nice out and it’ll be fun to watch. You can watch all of the totally-out-of-your-league athletic boys,” Pete teased.
Gerard shot him a dark look. “Isn’t track co-ed?”
“Yes,” Mikey answered, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. Gerard watched Pete’s face darken out of the corner of his eye, but when he looked over at him, Pete quickly smiled.
Gerard took his time getting to the track. He doubled back to his locker, where he kept an extra sketch pad and a pack of pencils in case he ever needed them. He figured that gave the kids on the track team enough time to change into their running clothes and go down to the field; he didn’t want to get there before they did and just sit there in the bleachers, waiting for them to arrive. The track was just behind the school. It was actually very nice – just recently paved and partially shaded by trees so that the poor runners did have to die in the sun the entire time. That thought brought a question to the forefront of Gerard’s mind – who would ever choose to run miles and miles a day? More importantly, why would Mikey choose to run miles and miles a day?
When he finally got to the track, he was relieved to find that the team was already there, stretching in the grassy area in the middle. The coach was standing next to a short kid with dark hair who seemed to be leading the stretches – at least, that’s what Gerard assumed. He was too far away to hear their voices, but his assumption was confirmed when the kid blew his whistle and gestured for everyone to stand up straight. Gerard focused on him while he gave instructions to the rest of the kids on the team. When the kid looked back at the coach, Gerard got a pretty decent look at his face. He was gorgeous, and when he smiled Gerard wondered how he had never noticed him before.
The team started running with the kid in the lead. Gerard watched as the more and more people fell behind as the number of laps increased, leaving just a small group of kids in the front. One of them was that dark haired boy, and the other two where Mikey and Pete. Gerard actually gasped out loud in surprise when he realized his brother was actually a good runner. Pete had played soccer all his life, but Mikey had never been an athlete with the exception of when he played baseball when he was seven. Gerard didn’t know how Mikey could possibly be athletic and related to him; maybe the athletic gene had skipped Gerard, along with the lucky, smart, and friendly ones.
When the coach blew the whistle and all the kids gathered in the grassy center again, Gerard realized he had been so focused on watching short leader kid run that he hadn’t even used his emergency sketch pad. He tucked it away in his back pack, more than a little confused at his own actions. He wandered over to the gate in the fence that enclosed the field where he figured he could wait for Mikey and Pete and walk back to the school with them.
Mikey came back first, sweaty and exhausted. “Hey, Gee,” he said, still slightly out of breath.
“You’re fucking awesome Mikey, how the hell are you a good runner?” Gerard asked incredulously.
“I have no idea,” Mikey shrugged. “I only joined track because Alicia did, but it turns out that I don’t even suck.”
Gerard remembered Pete’s expression earlier when Mikey had confirmed that track was co-ed, and it made sense now. Gerard found it amusing that Mikey was so oblivious.
Pete came wandering over a second later, smiling and wiping his face with his already soaked t-shirt. He offered Mikey his water bottle and smiled sweetly at Mikey when he thanked him after taking a sip. Gerard rolled his eyes and started walking towards his car. “I’m going to go to the car while you guys go back to the locker room,” he stated. Mikey and Pete both nodded and assured him that they would only be a minute.
It wasn’t even like Gerard minded any more. Watching them practice had been kind of intriguing – well, watching that boy had been intriguing. His mind had started wandering back to how his legs had looked when he took long strides and the way his skin kind of glistened with sweat in the sun. It should be gross, Gerard thought, but somehow it wasn’t. He thought about it while he pulled out of the school parking lot and Mikey and Pete analyzed the first practice.
“Frank told me I’m a good runner,” Pete told Mikey, his voice pinched with excitement. “I can’t believe we kept up with him, Mikey, he’s like a legend! Did you know he ran a four minute mile last year? He’s first in the state!”
Mikey snorted. “No one runs a four minute mile. If he can run a four minute mile, he wasn’t trying his best today because we were doing five. But I did hear he was a really great runner and that he was one of the best in Jersey.”
“Okay, well, it was more like 4:15,” Pete amended, “but that’s still incredible. Imagine if he lets us train with him? Then we can tell people we’re best friends with him and they’ll ask for our autographs.”
Mikey rolled his eyes. “So now you want to be a competitive runner? I thought you wanted to be in a band.”
“I can do both,” Pete said, receiving another one of Mikey’s eye rolls.
“Are you coming over?” Gerard asked, looking at Pete in the rearview mirror.
“Nah,” Pete said. “My mom’s making steak. Thanks, though.”
Gerard nodded and turned towards Pete’s house. After he dropped him off, Mikey climbed into the front seat. “Who was that kid you and Pete were running with?” he asked after a moment of silence.
“That’s Frank, the one Pete was talking about,” Mikey told him.
"Oh. He’s first in the state and you kept up with him?”
“Yeah, but he wasn’t running as hard as he could today. He says it’s the cigarettes and that the first practice always sucks. He’s team captain even though he’s only a sophomore,” Mikey explained.
Gerard nodded. That was only a year younger than him. “Impressive.”
“Totally,” Mikey agreed. Neither of them talked the rest of the way home.
After a while, Gerard found himself really looking forward to watching Mikey’s track practice. It was stupid of him to do so, but he couldn’t really help himself. He liked to watch Frank run. His eyes were trained on Frank as he showed the team how to stretch properly and then talk to them briefly using expressive hand motions. He held up a water bottle, probably telling them about the importance of hydration. The day really was hot, even though it was only April. The sun was beating down aggressively, making any area that wasn’t shaded sweltering. Gerard wondered if it was a new record for New Jersey – almost 90 degrees in mid-April.
Gerard had noticed over the past week or two that Frank really was a talented runner. Most of the time Mikey and Pete could keep up for a little while, but Frank usually ended up finishing about a minute before them. He always finished first and he always emerged sweaty and hot. Gerard wondered when he would actually have the guts to talk to Frank, or at least see him up close, instead of (creepily) watching him from afar.
As always, Gerard’s eyes followed Frank around the track, so he noticed when he started slowing down. He was down to a very light jog when he rounded the curve. By the time he was a few feet away from the bleachers, he was staggering. Suddenly, he veered off the track and collapsed onto the grass right in front of where Gerard was sitting. Gerard looked around with wide eyes, but no one else seemed to be in their proximity. He couldn’t just leave Frank lying there on the grass, so he stood up quickly and hoped down from the bleachers. He crouched down to where Frank was and shook him lightly.
“Frank? Are you okay?” He was breathing; that was reassuring.
He moaned softly and rolled over slowly. “What happened?” he mumbled, barely opening his mouth.
“I think you passed out,” Gerard told him. “Were you too hot?”
Frank’s eyes were fluttering again, so Gerard coaxed him up and led him over to the shade under a big birch tree. “I think I’m dehydrated,” Frank said finally.
Gerard jogged over to his back pack and searched for a water bottle. He pulled one out, thanking his lucky stars or guardian angel or whatever made him decide to buy a Coke at lunch today instead of drinking the water he had packed. He ran back over to Frank and pressed the bottle into his hands. Frank gulped it down thirstily until Gerard warned, “Don’t drink it too fast or you’ll throw up.”
“Thanks,” Frank said after a minute. “Do I know you?”
“No, I mean, I don’t know, like, maybe?” Gerard stumbled over his words and answered Frank’s question with a question of his own. “I’m, uh, Gerard. Way.”
“Mikeyway’s brother?”
Gerard nodded.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Frank smiled. Gerard noticed that Frank has his lip pierced and his stomach did a weird flip. “Mikey totally adores you, you know that? He’s a super rad kid and a great runner, too.”
Gerard smiled back. “Yeah, Mikey is pretty awesome.”
“Why don’t you do track? We’d probably be unbeatable if we had Mikeyway and his brother,” Frank said. Gerard tried to focus on what he was saying, but it was really hard when his eyes were that bright and his hair was that sweaty.
“I, uh, I’m not very athletic,” Gerard stammered. God, he was such a fucking moron.
“That’s too bad,” Frank said, still sort-of smiling. He stood up and brushed his shorts off. “I should probably get back. Thanks for the water though, I really appreciate it. See you around, Gerard.”
Gerard nodded and returned Frank’s smile. He watched as he turned and ran back toward the track, his heart beating too fast and his cheeks far too red, even though it was nearly 90 degrees.