frerard one shots | ✔️

part fifty-two ~ talk to me

"Hey, babe," Frank said gently as he walked into Gerard's study. He'd just come home from work and set down his things on the sofa in the living room.

"Hey, Frankie," Gerard said tensely. Frank felt his insides squeezing apprehensively so he strode over to where his husband was sitting at his table. 

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I'm just stressed is all," he sighed and turned around in his chair to face Frank. 

"You wanna talk about it?"

"No, that's okay," he mumbled. "Could you boil the water for me? I'll be out in a second and make us some coffee."

"Yeah," Frank hesitated and laid a gentle hand on Gerard's shoulder, rubbing his thumb over the fabric of his shirt. "I..."

Gerard laid his head on Frank's arm affectionately. "What?"

"Don't worry about it, I'll tell you later," he said, smiling tiredly and kissing the top of Gerard's head. "I'll go boil water."

Gerard kissed Frank's hand before it slid off of his shoulder. Frank shuffled out of the room and closed the door behind him, his mood dampened. Gerard never talked to him. He'd always brush off the 'are you okay's and the 'what's wrong's, and it was starting to upset Frank. Gerard was depressed, they both knew it, and Frank was too, but Gerard was in deeper since he was recovering from his alcohol and drugs phase and Frank really just wanted to know what was going on in his husband's head. 

Wallowing in his thoughts, Frank filled up the kettle and put it on the plastic circle, pushing down the lever on the side and leaning on the counter opposite, crossing his arms and biting his lip. In a few moments, he heard Gerard's door opening and he sighed, releasing his lip from the grasp of his front teeth. 

"Hey," Gerard said stiffly and reached up into the cupboard, pulling out coffee grinds and the french press. He set the items down and looked hesitantly at Frank. "What were you gonna say to me earlier?"

"I... um," Frank paused momentarily. He didn't want to talk about it. He wanted to lighten the mood, maybe take Gerard out for dinner or something to get them both to feel better, but he'd be the world's biggest hypocrite if he didn't confide in his husband. "It's just... you... well, you never talk to me anymore."

"What?"

"About things," he paused again, biting his lip sorrowfully. "Like mental health, how you're doing... things like that."

"Yeah, because usually talking about things makes me feel worse about them."

Frank bit his lip harder, processing this. "Alright... but sometimes you have to feel worse in order to feel better. Plus, I wanna know what's going on up there," he tapped the side of his own head. "So I can help you get better and feel better. I wanna be in the loop, Gee."

Gerard rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Frankie, I'm fine. I go to my therapist once a week and I talk to her, okay?"

Frank's eyes started to sting and he felt a jolt in his heart. His arms tightened across his chest as he looked at Gerard. "Yeah," he responded, clearing his throat. "But you've also got to tell me at least a little bit about what's going on so I can help you through this too. I've got my problems and you've got yours and I feel like I'm the only one ever talking about anything."

Gerard didn't respond; he just looked away. 

"I'm fucking worried about you, Gerard. We're supposed to take care of each other, that's how being married works, but I can't take care of you if you don't tell me what's wrong."