Drunken fucks were nothing new to Frank. He'd had his fair share over the years of touring, with whoever he could find. Crew, groupie, whatever. He didn't particularly like it, which is why he wasn't sober when they took place.
He didn't fuck his bandmates.
Okay, so that's a lie. He lets Gerard fuck him if they're both up for it, and usually so far gone they don't really know what's happening. Frank knows that it would be weird with anyone else, fucking in an alley or one of their bunks, but it's really not with them. They're so connected, bonded in a way no-one else understands, that Gerard could probably tie Frank up and have his way, however twisted, and it still wouldn't be weird. The thought is pretty pleasing to Frank.
The thing that frustrates Frank is that he remembers most nights, and Gerard doesn't. Frank will wake up the next day, aching with the night before almost clear in his mind, and Gerard will complain about his hangover, rolling out of Frank's bunk like it's totally not a big deal, and start drinking again, then repeat.
At first, Frank was fine with it. He didn't mind, really, because a) Gerard was fucking great in bed, even when he was wasted and b) even though Frank didn't really care, he liked that he was comfortable with Gerard and he was familiar.
But a reasonably large part of Frank wanted Gerard to remember. If Gerard cut the drink and stopped the drugs then maybe they could actually be something together rather than just the occasional fuck. Or daily fuck, but whatever.
Frank knows he sounds pathetic even if he won't admit it to himself.
For Frank, everything hits home when Gerard tumbles onto the bus one afternoon and announces that he has a boyfriend. At first, no-one says a thing and the silence is fucking deafening, before Mikey lets out a snort and then Bob and Ray burst into fits of laughter. Gerard stares at them, an almost lost look crossing his face, and then glances to Frank.
And what the fuck is Frank supposed to do, stand up and slap him on the back? Congratulate him?
Frank just shrugs at him.
That seems good enough for Gerard, who sends him a small smile, before disappearing back outside.
After that things get a little out of control. Frank starts drinking and getting high more often, just to take his mind off the fact that he's maybe-but-totally in love with his bandmate. The thought drags him down and he takes another long gulp of the bottle of vodka snuggled between his legs. Hopefully no-one would come down the damp alleyway, he just wants to be alone for a while. Even if everything around him does smell like piss.
Why is he letting himself get like this? He lets the question float around for a while, tugging at his mind, insistent for an answer. He knows, but refuses to give in to his own feelings.
But he had to at some point, right?
He's lifting the bottle to his lips when a voice startles him.
"Mmm, yeah, c'mon," Frank narrows his eyes in the dark, trying to make out the silhouettes at the opening of the alley. They're groping at eachother and Frank wants to gag. Ew.
"Fuck yeah," And then Frank freezes because he knows that voice. "Yeah, yeah- faster, Jesus." It's Gerard's stupid fucking boyfriend.
He gets to his feet unsteadily, sagging against the wall for a moment until the floor stops moving before stumbling towards the pair. He's ready to just walk past them, keep his head down and prepare an apology for Gerard in the morning, just an oops sorry for interrupting you two last night, and shrug it off.
But that's not Gerard. That's definitely not Gerard because it's a woman.
"Shit." Frank stutters out and then immediately regrets it because the couple stop to stare at him and Frank feels like he just got caught watching porn by his mom. He's not sure if they recognise him, as Gerard's best friend or just that shortass guitarist from My Chem, but he's thankful when the woman tells him to fuck off and he's able to scramble away.
He doesn't say anything to Gerard. He doesn't say a word to anyone but Ray, who gives him a long look before agreeing not to tell anyone else - not even Christa. Frank's glad because if he hadn't told someone, even just one person, he probably would've gone insane.
He carries on as normal. He throws himself around on stage, makes jokes and generally fucks about as usual. No-one seems to notice anything different, which he's thankful for.
He still thinks about what he saw though, most of the time in his bunk before he goes to sleep. He remembers the way they were grabbing at each other, and then he pictures Gerard's face and his gut twists and pulls with guilt.
Gerard was his best friend, the man he was in love with, and yet he didn't even have the balls to be honest with him and tell him what was happening. But Frank was so scared, he knew what Gerard had been like before with other relationships, he didn't know how Gerard would react to someone actually cheating on him.
To be honest though, he doesn't really know if what Gerard's involved in actually is as relationship. Not that it was any of his business.
Well, it kind of was, he decides as he thinks about the alleyway again, cringing as his memory recalls the sounds.
He eventually turns over in his bunk, sighing. It'd been a week and he was beginning to get restless at night, constantly fidgeting and trying to get comfortable, but he just couldn't with his thoughts nagging at him.
He really had to tell Gerard.