Playground [Frerard AU]

FIFTEEN

Relief flooded Mr. Way's face when he flung his front door open. "Frank," he smiled, "I'm glad you're here. Did June send you over?"

"Who's J- oh, right, grandma," I said, making Mr. Way smile again. God, what bliss he displayed at seeing me. I was almost briefly convinced I was Brad Pitt, but I was too transfixed on the thought of Gerard in the basement to think too hard about the delight I inspired or Mr. Way's seventies-sitcom grin. "Is he in his room?"

"Gerard? Yeah, just go down. Do you want something to drink, son? I was just about to brew myself a coffee."

I smiled at him, slightly forced, "coffee would be awesome. Thank you, sir."

Mr. Way told me to call him Donald and gestured for me to sit at the breakfast bar. I perched myself gingerly on one of the stools, remembering when I cracked my skull falling off of one when I was four, and how I had apparently laughed the whole time I was being treated because I was so hopped up on painkillers. Good times.

The Ways' coffee maker was old and quite the sire of awkward silences, both of us listening to the water slowly boiling and trying not to make eye contact. Finally my eyes landed on an uncomfortable Sears' family portrait. Gerard was who I saw first. He looked around fifteen or sixteen, awkward with his short hair spiked straight up, and next to his brother. The two were sitting in front of their standing parents and Mikey looked almost the same age as Gerard had mentioned he was now; I supposed he was one of those timeless people who never age until they hit their late thirties, at which point they wake up fifty seven and balding. Tough break. Their mother whom I'd never met had the biggest smile, rival only to her husband's, and had her hand resting lovingly on Gerard's shoulder. The whole thing was whimsical.

"Cool portrait, sir," I said, cracking a cocky grin and surprising myself a little.

He cracked one right back and shook his head at the photo. "Cheeky. We used to get 'em done every year right before Christmas. My wife loved it," he frowned and took milk out of the fridge. "I suppose Gerard's told you about them?" I assumed he meant the mother and brother I hadn't met yet, nodding and taking the coffee from him.

Gerard's bedroom door was open a crack but I still knocked cautiously.

"Hey, Frank," he called, almost singing it. I was surprised to see his smile upon seeing me. Shit, why was this family so happy to see me today? I momentarily suspected that they were going to tie me up and harvest my organs for the black market. Not that that wouldn't be kind of a cool way to go, as long as it didn't hurt that much. Imagine some random fucker buying your lungs online to make his own Frankenstein's monster without the hassle of grave-robbing. Neat-o. I made a mental note to add "BE ON THE BLACK MARKET" to my bucket list when I got home.

"Gerard, I, uh, wanted to just, uh..." I didn't know how to continue. What did I want? To be dismembered and haggled for, apparently, but that was more of a long-term goal. Right now as I looked at Gerard lying on his stomach with a copy of The Shining open in front of him, I kind of wanted to just lie next to him and not say anything for a few hours.

"Frank?" He cocked an eyebrow. Was he drunk? "Dude, are you stoned?" He smirked. An almost-jinx: Spooky. I snapped back into the conversation and tried to keep my mind from his smirk. Stupid cocky bastard.

"No, I just, um, didn't know what to say," I paused before just blurting it out. "We kissed and it was weird, and I'm kind of freaking out."

Gerard giggled. The arrow on the meter at the back of my head slid from 'sober' to 'drunk' and pinged. Somewhere in my subconscious, the live studio audience of this bizarre game show applauded. "Yeah, man, we did. So, are you enamoured with my luscious Jersey charm?" He made a kissing face at me and I sipped at my coffee to buy me time to answer. It was pointless, because he kept going. "Have you been switched to boys? Are we fellow friends of Dorothy now or am I being left to murder the Witch of the West by myself?"

Finally, something I had a damn answer to! "I'm bi, man, you didn't change nothing about me," I joined him in his grin and then on his bed when he tugged at my arm; my coffee splashed on my jeans with the velocity of it but neither of us paid any particular attention to it. He peered up at me from where he was still lying on his front.

"That's ego-crushing but still cool," he informed me eventually. "It's nice that you didn't say that you don't like labels. That annoys me so much. Like, fuck! You're bi! Just shut up and say it. Ain't a bad thing, you special, pretentious fuck. Labels are what, like, let you know shit. Like, if a, like, carton of milk didn't have a label on it, lactose-intolerant people wouldn't like, not die."

"Milk cartons don't have labels on them, man, the whole thing's one big label," I said pedantically.

"Woah," he whispered, "I'm kinda drunk. Can I kiss you again, Frank?"

I almost physically jumped. "I don't know, Gerard," I answered timidly.

"Okay," he pushed himself up stretched his back like a cat on his hands and knees. "Stay over, though, won't you? Mikey and I had a fight earlier 'cause I accidentally scratched one of his Buffy DVDs. I told him he could watch the episode online but he has this thing about watching things on DVDs, I dunno. Anyway, he went to one of his friend's for the night. I have spare pyjamas, by the way."

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HEY LOL

like frank, i also cracked my head open when i was four after falling off a wobbly stool and am bisexual as FUCK

bt dubbs sorry for not uploading for like. a year. im a piece of shit ! i also hav mock exams starting in a few days, wish me luck lmao