Drowning Lessons
MCR✖ s l a s h ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ (Warning: Some Lemons Involved!)
Written By X - my harlequin romance and Hitodeman
TAKE IT EASY
"First with your hands, then with your mouth A downpour of sweat, damp cotton clouds I was a fool, you were my friend We made it happen You took off your clothes, left on the light You stood there so brave, you used to be shy Each feature improved, each movement refined And eyes like a showroom"• • • P L O T
Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge era. Gerard is not only struggling with alcoholism, but he also has a few other nasty habits that worry his bandmates. While Frank only wants him to get better, he's starting to enjoy just how close his friend gets to him when he isn't sober - and is afraid he might not stop himself from taking advantage of the situation. Meanwhile, what they have going on might disrupt the band dynamics, and tour is resuming in less than two weeks. What is there to do?
• • • C H A R A C T E R S
GERARD WAY played by X - my harlequin romance
FRANK IERO played by Hitodeman
F R A N K I E R O -
Mid-July; the air felt heavy all across Jersey, so hot it made the sweat instantly pearl on Frank's bare arms. The man had to peel them off the leather couch every now and then from fear they'd get permanently stuck to the fabric. His mind had been shifting between the urge to light up a smoke and the knowledge that it would only contribute to the heat for the past half hour, pretty much for as long as he had been awake. The single bed in his house was occupied by Gerard, who had showed up the previous night and crashed on it without the need to ask. It was customary at this point, since Frank was the only one in the band who owned a house all to himself. Despite spending every nanosecond in each other's presence on tour, the Way brothers often showed up at Frank's house to spend the night when the band was on break, whether they were looking for quiet or fun.
Frank had been half-asleep in the living room, texting Ray about whatever show airing on Discovery Channel, when Gerard had unexpectedly visited him. They had barely exchanged a few words, but he remembered noting a strong smell of alcohol - less like whiskey, more like detergent - on his breath, confirmed by his slurred speech and hesitant step. His friend left the bedroom a few times that night, always for the bathroom (vomit, rinse mouth, repeat) but Frank's slumber had been too deep for him to hear. It was just as well; Frank was the kind of guy to get overly concerned about his friends, and would have spent the night holding back Gerard's hair and cleaning up his puke. Unavoidable.
"Holyfuck my back hurts," he complained to himself, stretching and almost falling off the couch in the process.
G E R A R D W A Y
The vile taste of post alcohol lingered in Gerard's mouth as he stood from the toilet and reached for the sink faucet. Used to the cycle, Gerard turned the knob and brought the icy cold water to his lips with his hands and swished it in his mouth for what it seemed to be the fifth time this night. The complete flavor wasn't gone but at least any remains had vanished. He wipe the spit surround his mouth with the sleeve of his black jean jacket and stared at himself in the mirror. He was sobering up but he still felt like complete shit as did the reflection looked in the mirror. Gerard sighed disappointedly at his bag eyed self, shaking his head knowingly as he dragged his hand across the mirror to hide away his face. Turning away, Gerard walked out of the bathroom and saw his best friend struggling to sleep on the couch. Damn, it was hot in here but Gerard didn't think to take off his jacket. Instead he walked over the leather lump as called a couch and laid on top of his miniature friend, belly down. "Fwankie... Can you make me a shammich... pleasheee..." Gerard grunted slurring his 'S's.
He made himself heavy to squish Frank underneath him so he would wake up. He was pretty hungry but was too lazy to just walk to the kitchen and get something out of the fridge. Besides, that's what friends are for, right? If Frankie ever got drunk, Gerard would be the there to make him sandwiches. Okay, maybe not really because Gerard would be drunk along with him. But still, Gerard would any favor for Frank if he needed to. He rolled of the couch holding Frank by the waist and dragging him down with him. With a hard thud, Gerard landed on the ground on his back with Frank on top of him. "Haha, Frank, look. Now I'm a shammich…" Gerard laughed spreading his arms out.
F R A N K I E R O Frank wasn't certain just when or how he had drifted back to sleep, but he did know it hadn't been on his living room floor, and even less on top of his best friend. The smell of alcohol, aside from triggering a strong impression of déjà vu, almost made him question if he had been the one drinking and not remembering falling asleep in such an embarrassing situation, with his nose buried in the crook of Gerard's neck.
"Oh man, it's not - " he started, but soon realized he had nothing to justify or apologize for. "Did you say something about a sandwich?" He pushed Gerard's hair off his reddened sleep-deprived eyes, not yet considering a more comfortable and less awkward position. "You're still drunk, aren't you? You're not even hung over, you're...still out." He patted the man's cheek rather disapprovingly. He wasn't exactly mad at Gerard (how could he ever be?) but seeing him sober was becoming a rare occurrence these days, reserved to special occasions and family dinners. While Frank wasn't exactly moderate with alcohol either, he was a party drinker. Gerard drank when something was wrong, like a compulsive nervous habit - and that was what worried Frank. Maybe it was good for the mind, but it was still terrible for the liver.
G E R A R D W A Y
The touch of Frank's hands brush the hair out of Gerard's eyes, making the still drunken singer scrunch his nose up. Squinting one of his eyes so the other could have a clearer vision on his friend, Gerard licked his lip. "So! And yeah, I said that wanted you to make me a sammich." Gerard yawned, stretching out under Frankie. He liked the weight that pressured him onto the floor. Made him feel like he was more connected to the world. Frank was just like a giant Teddy bear that you can win at carnivals for knocking down bottles with a baseball. He was so cute sometimes. Gerard did a bunny twitch with his nose and brought in his stretched out arms, wrapping them around Frank's tiny waist. He squeezed him tight, arching his back and landing them both on their sides. "But Frankie, you're so cute... Like sweaty doll. Meow~ I don't ever want to let you go." Gerard cooed, holding Frank's head against his chest and petting his hair roughly. He moved his legs up the floor and pinned Frank's thighs between his. Frank was cuddly. "Night night, puppy…" Gerard whispered, drifting back to sleep.
F R A N K I E R O
"Gee, no," Frank grunted, and sighed. "Don't do this to me..." He tried to slide out of Gerard's grip, but without much success. Not that he tried that hard - his friend was kind of warm, and it wasn't the uncomfortable kind of heat he had been trying to fight all night. Their legs awkwardly tangled, it felt more like a contagious fever than a seasonal temperature raise. He tugged on the waistband of his boxers (that were falling dangerously low) and sighed again against Gerard's chest, giving in and loosely wrapping an arm around him. "I can't believe you just called me a doll and a puppy. That's like, hello unmanly."
He wasn't sure his friend was conscious enough to hear him, and even less listen, but he figured it couldn't hurt. "You shouldn't drink so much. It's going to screw you up someday." He ran his fingers through the man's hair, very protectively. "I can get you water, or coffee, or whatever. Aspirin, too. And that sandwich you wanted. You need to sober up. You know Mikey is probably going to come looking for you in the morning, and I'm pretty sure you don't want him to see you like this." Under his breath, he added, "I don't like seeing you like this either."
G E R A R D W A Y
Gerard was pretty much done for. He just wanted to stay lying on the floor wrapped around his best friend and go to sleep. But Frank insisted other wise. The man ran his fingers through Gerard's messed up, possible greasy, hair and spoke softly to him. Gerard kept his eyes closed but bought his finger over Frankie's lips. "Sh sh sh sh shhhhh... It's Gee's shleepy time…" Gerard hushed Frank up with his cold finger tip. It was humidly hot in the room but Gerard's finger tips and nose seem to stay frozen. He smiled manically, buried his face into Frankie's hair. "And who said we have to be manly all the time? Besides, from this angle, you look like a puppy. Like if you were me and I was you, I'm pretty sure you would say the same thing." The drunken man breathed in his friend's aroma and laid still with his breathe still held in. Slowly exhaling, Gerard loosened his hold on Frank and smack him his butt. "Now go make me that sammich, boy." Gerard released in a failed ranchero accent. He sat up, leaning against the couch and ruffled out his hair, petting it down so it covered his eyes. He didn't want Frank to him like this.
F R A N K I E R O
Gerard did have a point - and it wasn't like he was manly all the time, far from it. And his friend did look kind of like a puppy, a little beagle with droopy eyes even, with the way he nuzzled Frank's head. The term "puppy love" of course came to mind as they were practically curled up against each other, and it wasn't exactly inaccurate (minus the whole romantic implications, because that's a friends thing, not a thing thing); there was some sort of tenderness in the man's drunken gestures that Frank didn't recognize, but definitely didn't dislike. It was just nice, the same way a warm bed was nice, or a cup of hot chocolate was nice.
Apparently Frank wasn't allowed to think about it for too long, because Gerard promptly smacked his ass and released him. He sat up halfheartedly. "Sammich," he repeated, mimicking Gerard's accent, and a smile drew itself on his lips. "Alright. I'll be right back. And you better not fall asleep, or I swear I'm going to scream so loud you'll need new eardrums. You've been warned." Empty threat, but he knew from experience that drunk people weren't exactly rational.
He got up and headed for the kitchen, where he hoped he could find anything suitable for a sandwich. The was a bacon-flavored tofu patty somewhere in his fridge but he wasn't certain of the expiration date, so he dropped the idea. Thankfully Mikey had brought cold turkey the last time he had showed up (because, quote, Frank has "nothing edible that doesn't taste or smell like rubber"), and that was good enough. He toasted the bread, spread the Dijon mustard, cut the slices of tomato... It made him feel like he was packing a kid's lunch before school, and the thought made him laugh quietly to himself.
"There you go," Frank announced, making his way back to the living room with the sandwich and a plastic cup filled with cold water. Gerard might need lots of it.
G E R A R D W A Y
As he let all his weight press him against the leather couch, Frank sat up as well and untangled their legs. The man made fun of Gerard speech before leaving off to the kitchen, threatening to yell at the drunken man if he fell asleep. Gee didn't like yelling much in this stage, especially if the yelling came from Frankie, it made him feel like he did something wrong. And the matter of the fact was, Gerard was doing something wrong.
Gerard rubbed his mouth and wiped his nose with his uncomfortably sticky hand. The heat was make him sweat profusely and the booze wasn't help it anymore. It help at the moment though. Alcohol was become his best friend. And no worries to Frank because it also seemed to bring them closer together as well.
After forcibly keeping his eyes from shutting closed, Gerard stretched himself out on the floor again and began to roll himself back and forth. If he didn't get to sleep, Gerard would need to do something else because his hyper activeness would kick in and staying in one single place, with nothing to do was like hell to Gerard. Rolling on the ground, Gerard found the hat he was wearing before he came into Frank's house. He couldn't remember why it was on the floor though. Wasn't he wearing it just five seconds ago? Wait, no because Frank just ran his fingers through Gerard's hair. The disappearance of his hat was really working him but after two minutes of hard thinking, his head started to hurt. So Gerard just grabbed the hat and pulled it over his face as he kept rolling.
He stopped mid-roll on his side when he heard Frank's voice saying he had the sandwich. "Yush! Meh sammich!" Gerard exclaimed through his teeth, his lips curled up. Gerard sat up and took the plate and cup out of Frankie's hands. He placed the food on the ground and picked up the turkey smelling sandwich to his mouth. With a bite, Gerard flashed a goofy grin and began to hum while he was chewing. "Sammich, sammich, sandmmmmmmich.…" Gerard liked to say 'Sammich' instead of 'Sandwich'. Who needed double 'u's anyways? Ha, Gerard did. Or else he would be 'Gerard Ay'. "Haha, Ay! Ay, ay, ay.…" Gerard laughed out in different accents while he was eating. With a gulp of his water, the messy man looked up at Frank and smiled, wiping away any water remain around his mouth with his sleeve. He patted the empty space next him and motioned Frank to sit with him. "Come, Fwankie... Don't leave me lonely." He baby talked out with his mouth in a puppy dog pout.
F R A N K I E R O Frank sighed and complied, sitting next to Gerard, who shifted closer to his friend as he ate. He had to admit he was mildly amused by the man's baby talk and pouty faces because, well, it was kind of cute. But even though it did make him smile, he couldn't help being taken over by some sort of weird irrational melancholy, like the Gerard by his side is there yet very, very far away. He silently wondered if it was possible for alcohol to chemically alter someone's brain and get them stuck in a permanent drunken state, but he knew he was only making it up because it scared him. Gerard...Gerard had a way of scaring him.
Absentmindedly, he lifted Gerard's hat, very slightly, just so he could have a better look at his face. He went to touch the man's flushed cheek, but quickly remembered that thing about never petting a Gerard when he was eating - unless that was only valid for real puppies? Either way he didn't risk it, and only studied him with fondness in his gaze and a smile on the corner of his lips. "I think," he said, puffing his chest proudly, "you appreciate my cooking skills. Maybe when we get too old to be in a band, I'll open a snack bar somewhere and make sandwiches." He was rambling a bit, but he only wanted an excuse to make conversation.
After a moment, he forced himself to ask a real question. "Why are you always drunk?" His tone wasn't accusatory. If anything, it was sad. "It's getting out of hand lately. We...well, me and the guys, we've talked about it. Maybe you should consider talking to someone, you know? No pressure, but...yeah. We're worried." He put a hand on Gerard's thigh. "I'm worried. There's counseling for that kind of, uhm, problem. And maybe you could benefit from that." His shoulders stiffened; he was genuinely afraid he might have angered his friend, despite him looking so naive and peaceful.
G E R A R D W A Y
Gerard simpered like a child with sandwich stuffed in his cheeks as he friend had accepted his request to sit by him. He felt Frank's vibe growing closer to him as he ate but looked pass it. Right now was lunch time. Well, maybe it's early breakfast. Or late dinner? Who knew what time it was now, Gerard just knew he was hungry and he was grateful his friend had made him something to munch on. Still chewing, Gerard muffled out, "Thank you…" , nuzzling Frank's shoulder, which seemed to be inches closer than what is was seventeen seconds ago. He lifted his head and straightened it up again, taking another bite as Frank pulled up his hat away from covering his face. Gerard felt Frankie's second guessing hand brush itself against his cheek but quickly retreat to its former position.
Slightly casting an odd glance at the man that stare at him with kind eyes, Gerard continue on and sipped from the cup the same man had given him. Frank began to talk about opening a sandwich shop when they were too old to play in a band. That wasn't for years but he guessed it was nice to plan ahead. Frank wasn't the best cook ever but his food was decent, or at least his sandwich were. Gerard swallowed a mouthful and just as he was about to comment on idea, Frank asked that question Gerard hope would still wonder in his friend's head and stay there. He didn't sound mad or anything, but just a tad disappointed. What friend wouldn't be?
Gerard stared aimlessly at the floor beyond his hands that held his sandwich and bit the inner side of his lower lip. He didn't want to answer. Of all things Gerard would tell Frank, his best friend, why but his body wouldn't utter a word about it. "I drink to forget the reason why I drink. And so far it's working out because I can't remember a damn thing." Gerard answered in monotone, not really caring if his words made any sense. That was all he could bring himself to say. He didn't make any eye contact with Frank nor did he change his vacant visage as he spoke. He just didn't want to talk about it.
After a couple of moments, Gerard felt the need to change the subject in order to by pass the sufficiently awkward conversation that both wish wasn't an item to talk about. Taking the last bite of his Frank-made sandwich, Gerard sucked on the tip of his fingers to get the crumbs off and exhaled heavily. "You know that snack bar thing, isn't such a bad idea. We can have local bands play gigs there and we can help them spread the music out to other people." Gerard suggested, hoping it would get Frankie's mind off of his drink. At least let him know it was subject Gee wasn't comfortable talking about as of the moment.
F R A N K I E R O Frank felt Gerard's breath ghost against his neck. He couldn't pinpoint exactly how it had happened, but he was starting the feel like the usual (and perhaps necessary) barrier between him and his best friend had gradually dissolved as they spoke. It was strange, how Frank was extremely aware of his presence, while the other man's sense were numbed down. Ironic, even. "Better than a lobotomy to forget," he joked, the words getting caught in his throat. He patted the couch behind him for his pack of cigarettes, but gave up since they weren't in reach.
"It's always about the music with you," Frank then commented with a grin. It was comforting to see that, even with more alcohol than blood in his veins, he was still his old self. "That's what I always liked. You're, like. You're beyond passionate. Your faith in the band is what keeps us guys together." He noticed Gerard still had mustard on the back of his hand. Without thinking much of it, he wiped it off with his thumb, and linked their fingers. He squeezed slightly as some form of reassurance, letting him know they didn't have to talk but that he'd always be there to provide comfort regardless.
G E R A R D W A Y
Gerard half chuckled at Frank's joke as he looked back on his friend with goofish smile. Frank said something about his commitment to the band that made Gerard chuckle softly and shake his head knowingly. "Of course, what is music if you don't believe and have faith in what you produce? Shit. Yeah that's right, shit." He said starting to feel a tad bit normal. Frank always seemed to know how to help. His words were rarely in anger and he knew how to take care of Gerard when he was completely out.
Gerard followed his friend's hand as it interlocked with his. The touch was soft and reassuring, bit like home. But this wasn't even his home. This was frank. And Frank was looking pretty cute at this angle. With a coy smirk, Gerard leaned in close to Frank's face and planted a noisy peak on Frankie's cheek. "Thank you Frankie... For being so awesome." Gerard said in a yawning voice. He was really tired and the snack Frankie had given him was making him really drowsy.
"I think it's time that I go back my nappage. Wants to be nice and fresh for tomorrow's morning hangover." Gerard laughed in a sleepy tone as he sat up and then stretched out on the floor. He positioned Frank's legs so he could sleep on his lap and took off his hat. He rested his head on Frank's thigh and snuggled his self nicely. "Night night puppy."
F R A N K I R E O
"Hey, no problem. I like being awesome," Frank whispered back, and mentally slapped himself for not coming up with a better reply. He couldn't explain why the warmth of Gerard's lips lingered on his cheek. "Night night Gee," he murmured, mimicking his friend. As the man dozed off, he pressed his fingers against the nape of his neck, gently rubbing the skin.