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It was Ray’s idea.
Of course it was Ray’s idea: the guy may look like the most normal and balanced person in the world but Frank knows for a fact that this is nothing more than a mask, and under it hides the person that could give Gerard a run for his money when it comes to weird stuff. And, well, here’s the thing: Frank doesn’t mind hanging out with his bandmates on Christmas. In fact, he’s been looking forward to it over the past few weeks, and despite Ray’s latest proposal of throwing an ugly sweater party he still wanted to come. And then other things came up. He spent the entire first half December driving around New Jersey and beyond to visit all his relatives, including those whom he last saw when he was a baby, and after that he had to make sure he had presents for everyone, so the party at Ray’s place was fairly low on his list of priorities. In fact, Frank completely forgot he had to buy (or, in his case, make because no way in hell he is going to support the industry that uses child labour to get some quick profit during the Christmas season) a sweater for it right until Gerard called him on the morning of the big day.
“Did you get it?” Gerard asks, and it takes Frank too long to figure out that, one: Gerard means a sweater for Ray’s party, and two: Frank didn’t, in fact, buy said sweater.
“I forgot,” he mutters under his breath.
He doesn’t want to give Gerard any hints at his current state, which is progressively getting close to panic.
“Do you need help?” Gerard asks cheerfully. “I have a few hours.”
“No,” Frank grumbles. “I’ll figure something out.”
Gerard seems to understand what Frank really meant almost immediately.
“Okay, I’m coming over,” he says and ends the call before Frank has a chance to protest.
He probably should have expected that. Frank’s first thought is that he should slip out of the house before Gerard comes and then pretend he suddenly remembered he had to buy groceries, or find some other equally implausible excuse, but then Gerard is going to spend the entire evening making sure everyone knows how Frank betrayed him, and this is the last thing Frank wants. So he braces himself for whatever Gerard has in store for him and waits.
And waits.
Gerard shows up at his front door almost three hours later, when Frank has almost given up on seeing him anytime soon. The first thing Frank notices the moment he opens the door is a large bag Gerard is carrying, and he has to restrain himself from asking what’s in it. He has certain suspicions already and he doesn’t want to seem even remotely intrigued. He is not giving Gerard the satisfaction.
“So,” Gerard starts the moment he catches his breath and takes off his coat. “I thought about buying something for you…”
“Please tell me you didn’t actually spend money on this shit,” Frank groans.
Gerard gives him a stern look. “Let me finish.” He slams the bag against the couch. Perfectly clean couch. Frank hopes the bag never touched the ground during all the time Gerard carried it. “I couldn’t find anything good enough at the store, so I borrowed some old stuff from my Mom.”
Frank would like to take it back: he’d rather Gerard spent his hard-earned money on the worst sweater in existence than make him wear something his mother bought. It’s not that Frank has anything against Gerard’s mother, but she has a very unorthodox taste when it comes to clothes and personal style, so whatever Gerard has in store for him, it can’t be good.
Gerard demonstrates him the first sweater, and Frank could swear this is the ugliest thing he has ever seen in his entire life. First of all, it's green. Not the very specific Christmas shade of green, though it might have been, a very long time ago, — it looks like someone decided to be original and used the colour of pea soup. Or puke. Frank is torn between those two options. Second, it’s decorated with white and red Christmas balls, and the overall design looks like a poor imitation of a Christmas tree. And to make things worse, the neck and sleeves of the sweater are decorated with tinsel. As in, actual tinsel, PVC film and all.
“What do you think?”
“Please, just kill me,” Frank grumbles.
Gerard grins. “I’ve got some even better stuff.”
Frank groans.
Together, they go through another half a dozen sweaters, and by the end Frank is willing to do anything if it means this torture will stop. Gerard seems to have picked the worst sweaters in his mother’s closet, and now Frank has to choose between the Tinsel Sweater, the one with a reindeer looking like a sad dog with horns, several sweaters with mistletoe and sugar cane ornaments (those aren't exactly bad, but they're clearly old, and not in a way that could be rebranded as vintage), and the worst of them all: the Edgy Christmas Tree sweater. This one was probably Gerard’s once, during his teenage years, otherwise Frank can't justify the existence of this thing.
“Well?” Gerard looks at him expectantly. “Which one?”
“Are you sure you don't have anything else?”
Gerard shrugs. “Mom has more, but I thought these would look the best on you.”
Frank rubs his cheek.
“Do you really hate me that much?”
“Hey, I tried!” Gerard pouts. “It's the best I could find.”
Frank rolls his eyes.
“Fine,” he grumbles. “I’ll take this one.”
He points at the Edgy Christmas Tree sweater. It’s still atrocious, but at least Frank could try to make it look on brand for himself.
Gerard smiles. “I knew it.”
“Yeah, right,” Frank scoffs. “Of course you did.”
“It's not my fault you're so predictable.”
Frank can't even be annoyed: he is that predictable only because he has a reputation to uphold, and this particular sweater is the only one that at least fits his image. Not that Gerard needs to know.
He looks at all the other sweaters lying on the floor. Gerard is in no hurry to put them back in the bag, and suddenly Frank has a sinking feeling in his stomach.
“Don't tell me you're gonna bring all this shit to the party.”
“We could play dress up,” Gerard replies.
“No. Absolutely not. Never.”
Gerard responds with an innocent smile, and Frank realises that he has already made up his mind.
This is going to be a long evening.