When they finally make it to the brothel - after lingering in the shower because apparently Gerard just couldn't get enough - Frank can only stare because, holy shit, from outside it looks like a fucking manor house. It's huge.
"Wait till you see the inside," Gerard mutters, grinning when Frank rolls his eyes.
They travel to the main room in silence, Frank following in Way's shadow slightly. He was the owned, after all. The dim hall from the tall front doors leads up into a large room, ceiling towering above them as beams crawled across to keep it from crashing down on them. Long windows, currently shadowed by drapes, stretch across the wall next to the door they enter from, metal frames spiraling around the corners covered with bacteria, but it merely blends in, decorating it even.
Frank's mouth hangs open slightly. "Holy shit," Gerard laughs beside him, before they're left in almost silence. If Frank listens hard enough, he can hear the muffled sounds of movement and voices. He frowns for a moment, before he realises - sooner than he'd care to admit - that it's the sound of sex.
Frank glances around, biting his lip. It's not that he hasn't heard the sounds before - if anything, they were far too familiar - he just thought that they wouldn't follow him here. He supposes it was too much to ask for.
Moving quickly through the main room, Gerard's voice echoes into the corners. "You get used to it all, after a little while. I mean, I know you've probably heard it all anyway," He spares Frank an apologetic glance over his shoulder as they pass through a doorway to his office. "But it's not exactly pleasing to hear, I really do understand that,"
Frank shrugs. "I'd rather just settle with having to hear it then see it, I was getting a little bored with seeing dicks pretty much all day," He doesn't look at Gerard as he says it, but he hears the quiet, but surprised sounds he makes. Gerard clears his throat before laughing, shaking his head as he grins at Frank. Frank lets a small smile pass back.
Gerard's office is an average size, not too big - not too small. His desk is towards the far wall, littered with papers and empty mugs and a laptop stationed upon the dark, wooden surface. Against the opposite wall stands a filing cabinet which has a coffee machine stood ontop, which explains all the coffee-stained mugs.
Frank stands in the doorway awkwardly, unsure what to do as Gerard shuffles a few papers on his desk as he skim-reads them. He glances down at his clothes, frowning at the scuffed shoes, the sole had slowly been ripping itself off for the past couple months. His jeans were ruined, the knees split open and they practically hung off his hips from the weight he'd steadily lost over the years. His shirt hem was loose and the threads had been picked out while ago.
Basically, he looked like shit.
He unconciously wraps his arms around himself, shrinking back slightly. Fuck, he hates this - he hates feeling so ugly.
When Frank is introduced to Gerard's main employees, they greet him with warm smiles and soft words and Frank has never been so grateful. He stiffens whenever they pat him on the back, or hug him too tightly, but it's the best welcome he's ever recieved. Gerard even stays at his side as they pass onto each person, his voice gentle as he introduces them.
They're at the end of the line of people when a door across the room opens and a face he never thought he'd see again appears.
"Jamia?" Frank breathes, unable to believe she was really here.
"Oh my God," She chokes, running across the room to almost tackle him in a hug. They cling to each other, and Frank melts into her. "Frankie, oh God, Frankie, baby," She's clutching at his shoulders, squeezing his cheeks and smiling as the tears slip over her own cheeks. The sniffles of other women can be heard around them, most of them being friends of Jamia.
"Ja-Jamia," Frank stutters, burying his head into her shoulder and letting the water run wild from his eyes. "I thought- I thought you were-"
"I know, I know, honey, shh,"
Gerard stands completely clueless. He has no idea how Jamia and Frank knew each other, or why they were so crazy about seeing each other. When he realises that the churning inside him is jealously, he clamps down on it right away.
"She's like his mom," Mikey murmurs, standing beside him. "They grew up together, she always took care of him. Their parents were so close, they chose to sell their kids together."
"Fuck," And Mikey hums his agreement.
Jamia takes Frank out to the smoking platform in the garden. Frank's eyes are too blurred with tears to take in the view, not that he cares at this current moment. They sit close together on the brick wall, it's low enough that even Frank's feet touch the floor. Frank huddles closer, and Jamia wraps her arm around his shoulders and tugs gently so he's pressed right against her side. Frank breathes in her smell, she hasn't changed at all, and it feels like a weight has been lifted from him.
"I missed you, Frankie," Jamia sighs, a soft smile on her lips. Frank curls closer and Jamia kisses his forehead.
"I thought you were gone," Frank whispers, sniffing.
"I know, honey." Jamia pauses for a moment, making a quiet thinking noise. "You gotta do something for me, Frankie,"
"What?" Jamia sits up, turning towards Frank and cupping his cheeks.
"Trust Gerard,"
Frank makes a pained expression. "You know I-"
"I know, baby, but you just got to, okay? You won't find any other masters like him, Frankie, he's not going to hurt you. I swear, Frank, you know I wouldn't even tell you this if I didn't mean it."
"Jamia," Frank says, frowning and biting his lip. "You know it's not that easy,"
"I get that, but I just... I just want you to realise that it's okay, you're not gonna be hurt anymore." Jamia leans her forehead on Frank's, sighing and Frank can feel her breath on his chin. She pecks his lips lightly, just a small gesture of affection that Frank's missed so much.
Frank smiles. "Love you, Jam," He murmurs and Jamia grins, pulling him close for a tight hug.