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Frank is tired—he’s always tired. It feels like all he ever does is lay in bed. He had school during the week and worked on weekend mornings. But other than that? His hobbies consisted mainly of sleeping and watching television- a combination whose side effects were definitely beginning to manifest.
It was Friday evening and while everyone and their mother was out doing something somewhere, he was spread out underneath his comforter, mindlessly consuming whatever shitty reality show was on t.v this time. He contemplated the notion as he stared blankly at the screen, settling in for a long night of thinking about how shitty he felt. For someone who's got it all together, he really really doesn't.
It's almost funny- he's got a good job, a nice group of friends, and a report card thats nothing to sneeze at. He's got parents who love him (sometimes, at least), a cute dog, a nice house, and plenty of money to live comfortably. And yet, you'd think he'd been in the trenches.
Nothing's truly wrong though, he mused. Feeling like total shit for no reason isn't exactly normal, but he doesn't have the energy to fix it regardless. Plus, he's still functioning when he needs to, so is it really an issue? It wasn't like he was going to off himself or anything.
He yawned, eyes watering as his jaw popped and his head throbbed. He'd been laying on the same side for far too long. He rotated to his other side like a roast on a spit, bed creaking as he settled back in. He buried his face into his pillow with a sigh, trying to ignore how icky he felt. Maybe if he ignored it he wouldn't wake up with a cold. This sucks, he thought. He didn't really do much thinking- when he did, he usually wound up with another band-aid slapped on his upper arm. So, he learned it was best to keep his brain in static mode, consuming every piece of media he could find to keep it that way.
His phone vibrated on his nightstand, and he sighed, letting his face smush into the pillow for a minute before he rotated back over to his other side to grab it. He answered the call without even bothering to check who it was.
"Hel-" he cut himself off, clearing his throat aggressively to clear the rasp in his voice from hours of not using it. "Sorry- hello?" He mumbled.
"Hey Frankie! You're coming tonight, right?" Mikey chirped, his voice jarring through the tinny speakers of Frank's phone.
"I- what's happening tonight?" Frank replied in mild alarm, trying to pull his mind together.
"We were gonna go see that movie with the guys, remember?" Mikey said, a tinge of hurt in his voice.
"Oooh right right..." Frank said, cutting him off in feigned remembrance. In truth, he'd forgotten all about the function, to no one's surprise. "Hey man, I don't think im gonna make it actually-"
"You skipped the last hangout too!" He could practically hear the accusation in Mikey's voice.
"I'm sorry dude, I'm just...really not feeling it. I forgot and I just- I'm not in the mood. Tonight." He admitted.
"You're never in the mood," Mikey complained.
Frank sighed, trying to figure out how to stop Mikey from beginning a lecture. "See you Monday," he said after a beat, hanging up in the middle of Mikey’s next sentence.
He flopped back down onto his pillow, slightly uncomfortable but too tired to really care. He wasn't going to lay there and pretend he didn't have a problem- he most certainly did. He just couldn't really find it in himself to try and fix it. until it got in the way of things, he wasn't about to do anything about it.
His phone vibrated again and he nearly dropped it, forgetting it was in his hand. This time, it was a text from Gerard.
"ill miss u lots 2nite!"
Frank's stomach did a flip as the next message came through.
"need me 2 come over?"
"yes" Frank sent back without hesitation. As soon as he sent the message, he sighed, beginning to think about the mess of his room, the fact that he probably stunk, and the fact that he practically looked like a zombie. Not that any of that really mattered since Gerard was his best friend, but god did Frank wish they were more. Depression and an oncoming cold definitely weren't doing him any favors, either.
Frank was half asleep with his back to his door as the sun set outside. Minutes or hours could have passed, time lost in the void as it often was when Frank was in a funk. Before he could really process what was happening, a body slid into his bed next to him- Gerard. He hadn't even heard him come in. Frank turned into him, almost subconsciously burying his head into Gerard's shoulder. He dimly felt Gerard's arms encircle him, their warmth spreading through his body. He hadn't even realized he was cold under his mountain of blankets.
"Sleepy?" Gerard mumbled against the top of his head.
He nodded imperceptibly, his head feeling heavy.
Gerard sighed.
"I know...you're always sleepy, baby, " he mumbled, planting a light kiss against the top of Frank's head, running his fingers through his hair.
Frank cringed internally; he knew his hair was probably greasy. Despite that, Gerard kept his fingers in it, lightly scratching down Frank's scalp. It was nice, just being held like that, especially by the guy he had a massive crush on. He was pretty certain Gerard felt the same, but he sure as hell wasn't going to bring it up.
Despite the peacefulness of the moment, guilt began to close in on him, the guilt he always carried for some unknown reason. The guilt of making Gerard drop everything and come to his house, the guilt of not being able to get out of bed, the guilt of doing absolutely nothing— guilt, guilt, guilt. He knew deep down it wasn't his fault, but that didn't stop him from feeling like it was.
His face and eyes began to burn, and he aggressively bit down on the inside of the bottom lip to stop its trembling. Of course, Gerard noticed and resumed his soothing motions in Frank's hair, his other hand gently rubbing his back.
"Something I said?" Gerard joked softly, trying to lighten the mood. Frank shook his head again, curling deeper into Gerard. Gerard responded, squeezing him tighter and keeping his head tucked against his shoulder. After a second, Gerard frowned, disentangling his hand from Frank's hair to place it against his forehead.
"You feel warm, baby" Gerard murmured in mild concern. His hand slid down to cup Frank's cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear that had dripped down his face. Gerard just stared into Frank's wet eyes for a moment, his face nothing but fondness and concern. "You feel like absolute crap, don't you, love?"
Frank just nodded again. He was too high strung to process the endearment terms- because yes he felt warm and yes he felt like crap and it was about time someone noticed. And maybe he was just feverish and extra emotional, but all he really wanted was to just dissolve into a puddle in Gerard's arms- which he pretty much did. He didn't mean to do it, but he spent the next hour and a half violently sobbing into Gerard's shoulder.
He was dimly aware of how soaked Gerard's t-shirt was getting, but once he started crying, he couldn't stop. It was definitely humbling—sobbing uncontrollably like that. Everything he wanted to say poured out of his eyes, and each time he was close to calm, he opened his mouth to speak and broke down again.
Gerard was patient. He didn't let go, keeping one hand firmly on Frank's back, the other hand full of tissues from the box perched precariously on Frank's nightstand. He murmured small reassurances against the top of Frank's head, allowing him to cry it all out. Frank didn't even know what he was crying about; it'd been a while since he last felt anything but neutral. But maybe that was something to cry about in and of itself.
Finally, Frank managed to calm down enough to speak, forcing out an "I'm...sorry" through gasping breaths.
Gerard pulled back, mildly offended. "What?" He said, almost in disbelief. "Don't ever apologize, got it?"
Frank felt a mild sense of bewilderment. Obviously he knew it wasn't his fault and that he had nothing to feel sorry or guilty for, but that didn't mean he wasn't. It was like Gerard had read his mind. His expression immediately softened, looking down at Frank with a face full of true understanding. He shifted Frank in his arms, propping him up a little better against his chest, handing him the tissues he was holding and resting his chin atop Frank's head.
Frank took the tissues wordlessly but gratefully, immediately wiping all the tears and snot off his face. 'Gross,' he thought dimly, tossing the now sodden tissues into the overflowing trash can next to his bed.
"Better?" Gerard asked softly.
"Yeah," Frank mumbled in response, letting himself relax in Gerard's arms. He was definitely feeling rather vulnerable after his out-of-the-blue cathartic outburst, but in all honesty he was feeling a bit better.
"Need anything else?" His tone combined with the warmth of his arms and how tired Frank already felt meant he was definitely losing the battle he was silently waging against sleep. Despite the rest he certainly needed, he shook his head with a sniff. He'd almost forgotten about his oncoming cold, and evidently so did Gerard.
Frank felt a sudden loss of warmth from the top of his head and made a pathetic little noise of complaint as Gerard disentangled himself and got out of bed. He responded with a huff of amusement.
"Geez, I’m not going far," He replied with an affectionate ruffle of Frank's hair. "I'll be right back, I promise. I want to take your temperature."
"But I'm fine," Frank complained, sitting up a little straighter. He wasn't sure why he suddenly felt so defensive, so resistant to Gerard's help. Well, he did. He didn't deserve it, that's why. He just couldn't really put that feeling into words.
"No, you're not," Gerard sighed, "and I wish you'd stop saying you were. I can see it, Frankie. I'm not blind. We've all noticed something's up with you, especially me. I know you feel sick right now, and I know that all of...all of this recently is because you aren't just physically sick. And I know that sounds harsh, but you have to let us- let me- help you," He said, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. "It kills me to see you like this, y'know? You- you're my best friend and I- I can't- I mean... god FORBID you do something- something stupid and I'm not- I won't be able to-"
Frank stared up at him with wide eyes, mouth hanging open as Gerard struggled for words.
"What's that supposed to mean," Frank asked tentatively. He was still defensive- it wasn't like he was some kind of liability. Gerard finally lost it.
"IT MEANS," Gerard shouted, hands flying up to grip his hair, "THAT I WAKE UP EVERY MORNING AND SEND YOU A TEXT AND WORRY ABOUT WHETHER YOUR LACK OF RESPONSE IS JUST BECAUSE YOUR PHONE'S DEAD OR BECAUSE YOU'RE DEAD!!"
The silence after was deafening.
The boys stared at each other for the longest minute of Frank's life and then- weight and warmth, so much warmth spread though his body, through his mouth. Gerard was kissing him, tangled in his sheets, his limbs, his mouth. Frank let out an unholy noise of surprise and pleasure, wrapping his arms around Gerard and upping the intensity of whatever was happening. It was sloppy and rushed but real and full of everything each of them were trying to convey.
Gerard pulled away after a beat, the sudden difference in air temperature striking. He breathed heavily as he buried his flushed face into Frank's shoulder.
"I'm sorry I yelled. I shouldn't have done that," He said quietly, muffled by Frank's shirt.
"S'okay. I deserved it,"he replied.
Gerard's head popped back up in mild alarm. "No, you didn't. You needed a wake up call but- Jesus, not like that."
The silence stretched on, less heavy than before. Frank was feeling contemplative, eventually asking a question he wasn't sure he wanted the answer to.
"Is- are you really scared that I'd- that I'd do that? I mean is this...thing… that bad?" He asked softly.
Gerard took his time with his response. "I mean...not… necessarily? I think a part of me is afraid, but the part of me that understands you knows you wouldn't."
Frank nodded. "I wouldn't,” he said definitively, "But- I'm sorry.” He added, the guilt beginning to creep up on him again.
"You shouldn't have to be sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel worse."
Frank shook his head. "We're going to keep apologizing forever, just stop."
Gerard poked his side. "I'm sorry."
Frank couldn't help himself, he flinched away from the touch with a small huff of laughter. "Hey!"
Gerard kept going, grabbing on to Frank and playfully shaking him around, saying "I'm sorry!" over and over again while Frank giggled uncontrollably. When Gerard finally dropped Frank's shoulders back onto the bed, Frank looked up at him breathless, flushed, and truly smiling.
Gerard looked down at him fondly. "I love you," he murmured, "I love you. We'll get through this."
"We?" Frank whispered, voice shaking slightly.
"Yeah we," Gerard said, rolling his eyes. "Unless I totally misread all the hints you've been dropping."
Frank quickly shook his head. "No, no nonono. You're right."
Gerard smiled. "I know."
Frank returned the smile, pulling Gerard back down to him. "Score," he mumbled into Gerard's shirt.
"Idiot," Gerard replied softly.
It didn't take long for both of them to fall asleep and, for the first time in who knows how long, Frank was looking forward to waking up in the morning.