Wintertime (Frerard, Sequel to Summertime)

27: He's Your Brother, Not Voldemort

"Don't ever have kids." Pete began as he made his way back into the kitchen, putting Louis down in his high chair; the two year old completely unaware as to what his father had just said about him.

Frank laughed a little, raising his eyebrows slightly, "I doubt I will," he admitted with an awkward kind of shrug.

"Why not?" Pete asked, sitting down at the table and looking across at Frank with perhaps an excess of curiosity.

"I thought you were telling me never to have them, like literally thirty seconds ago." Frank pointed out, a small smile upon his lips.

"Yeah, well, I didn't exactly mean that, did I?" Pete laughed, glancing back at Louis, who had amused himself with counting his own fingers, because of course, you gotta check they're all there, don't you? "I love my kids. And I love Mikey. And I even love how he tells me off for swearing around them. I also love how he still hasn't noticed that I named them after the gayer half of One Direction - please, don't tell him, I think he'd genuinely kill me."

Frank's eyes widened in disbelief, but then again, this was Pete. "Are you kidding me?"

"Well..." Pete trailed off, laughing a little, "we chose Louis together at first, because well Louis is a nice name, and then I'm like another kid, okay, what goes well with Louis, and I mean, it's obviously Harry. But like we're not having anymore kids because I think he'd start to get suspicious if we got a Niall or a Liam, and then it's just tragic that Zayn left and if we had four kids called Louis, Harry, Niall, and Liam, I mean you know I wouldn't be able to restrain myself from ensuring that they believed they had a brother called Zayn who got eaten by a pack of hyenas at a young age-"

"Are you sure you're fit to be a parent?" Frank asked, leaning back in his chair, laughing a little.

"No." Pete exclaimed, shaking his head a little too enthusiastically. "That's why Mikey exists, because I think he kind of knows what he's doing some of the time, and I mean, neither of them have died yet, so we're doing fine."

"It's cute." Frank noted, "really happy for you guys. Kind of jealous, honestly."

"Go on then, find yourself someone," Pete encouraged, "you can do the whole family thing too."

"Nah," Frank shook his head, "it's like leather pants, I think they look great on some people, but for me, fuck no."

"Frank, did you just compare my children to a trashy item of clothing?" Pete's eyes widened in what Frank desperately hoped was mock offense.

"Nope." Frank let out a sigh, glancing at the back door, "is it alright if I go out for a smoke?"

"Didn't know you smoked, you've changed." Pete shook his head in disbelief but nodded in the vague direction of the back door.

"I've changed?" Frank snorted at that, "I'm not the one with kids." He closed the door behind him before he could quite catch Pete's response, and really he wasn't missing out on much.

He sat down on the porch steps, his knees pulled up to his chest, and fixating his gaze upon the horizon as he lit a cigarette, wondering if Gerard might decide to grace him with his presence, or whether he was insist upon fucking off for an undetermined amount of time right now, which was really not something Frank was all that pleased with, because as annoying as Gerard could get, Frank couldn't deny the fact that he did indeed depend upon him to some degree.

"You know? This is fucking... weird."

And of course, Frank nearly had a heart attack as the space beside him filled with Gerard's figure: somewhat transparent and ghost like in appearance, which had Frank confused.