Funerals are weird. I hate attending them, 'cause you have to dress up and mourn this person you'll never see breathing again. I had to go to one for my uncle some years back, and it was unpleasant. I had to sit by my mom, and she cried for her brother more than I cried for Des. My uncle had been embalmed, and it was open-casket. I was just this wee little thing, so I didn't quite get the concept. I just went up with my mom and dad and brother and stared at what used to be my uncle. There were prayers and tears and speeches, but I was more interested in the reception. The food was pretty good. My brother and I got tossed around from strange, tall person to strange, tall person telling us how much we'd grown and how cute we were and all that. But this... this is a different thing entirely. I know for a fact that Des would have hated to be here, had he been alive. I think, as he lay in his urn, just a pile of ashes now, how he hated fire. I remember all the times I used to scare him with my lighter, just putting it near his arm so he could feel its heat. I laugh to myself at the memories, and I get a gentle shove from Frank. We're sitting together in our black suits at the very front with Des's parents. I want to tell Frank why I'm giggling like a moron, but I'd be interrupting the priest. Yet another thing wrong with this blasted funeral. Des was baptized, yes, but he's never had any faith in Catholicism. He was a hedonist, not to mention gay. So all this bullshit coming from the bible does not apply to him.

My eyes blur when I hear them play Desolation Row by Bob Dylan overtop the eulogy. It was Des's favorite song, but fuck, couldn't they have gotten something else right? I don't need to hear this. We'd done so many things to this song. We'd shared headphones while in the mall, listening to this song on repeat. We'd danced to it in his room. He'd learned it on guitar, and I know every word, even though my vocals are nowhere near Dylan's. We used to jam to it. We even wrote more verses, and Des added in this wicked solo. We'd analyzed and debated the meaning of every part, but in the end we'd agree to disagree. And, more predominantly, we had used it to cover up the squeals and moans when we'd do it with people home. I flush a little at the memory and I put a hand to my face. That's one thing I'm gonna miss. Des always used to make me blush.

Finally, finally, finally the main bit is over and we all file into the reception hall of the church. I don't know how many people are here, though. Lots. Mostly his aunts and uncles and cousins and distant relatives who were in it for the free food. Okay, that's a little bit mean. But they didn't seem to care like I did in there. They didn't show emotion. But every so often, I'd feel eyes on me and look over to see Des's immediate family giving me sympathetic smiles.

Frank, my brother, Mikey and I all band together in one corner and talk to eachother. We don't have much business here, except to wait for our parents to pick us up. "Dude," Mikey says solemnly, and Frank and I both nod our heads.

"Yeah. This is way heavy," I add.

"Definitely. I don't know what to do with myself these days," Frank says sadly. "I can't hang out with anyone, 'cause Des was the only person I'd chill with."

"I can say the same. You know... you and I could like, hang out or whatever," I suggest nervously. I don't know why, though. Perhaps it's because up until now, we haven't talked since we left Des's house three nights ago. And I also know why that was.

When we were about to leave around midnight; Frank and I were standing on the doorstep, about to go our separate ways. I felt really strange, leaving Des's house discontented. I felt numb, and strangely invincible, like you do when you witness death. I tried to keep my reaction level, or normal, but I couldn't. I expected myself to cry more, or show emotion, but I didn't. I shivered at the cold as we accompanied eachother down the sidewalk. Frank noticed, and said, "You want a ride?"

"I don't wanna impose," I replied, shrugging. I really was capable of walking. It was cold, but it wasn't like a hypothermia type of cold.

"There's no imposition at all," Frank said with a smile. "I'd hate to see you freeze to death tonight. That'd just be the worst day ever, huh?"

I laughed. "Definitely."

So, he drove me home, and all the while he looked really troubled. More so than he had before. I noted the pinched look to his face, and how he kept looking at me from the corner of his eye, like I was gonna vanish, or something. His slight grimace distorted his face, and I didn't like that. Handsome people should be handsome all the time, if they can help it. So, I asked him about it. "Hey, you alright?"

"Yeah, I just feel kinda weird."

"You and me both."

"No... I mean... I mean I feel strange being here beside you. That is, you kind of kissed me, right? And ever since then, I can't stop thinking about it, like... like, I want you to do it again. It's stupid, and juvenile, and messed up for me, 'cause I don't like guys, but you... you're somethin' else," Frank rambled, stringing his words together in a way that made me barely able to understand him.

"Eh?" I asked, dumbfounded. I couldn't fathom being with someone other than Des. But it looked like that may be my only option. I thought it through logically. I would have to be romantic with someone else. It wasn't as if my boyfriend having killed himself made me asexual. He told me to make someone else as happy as I'd made him...

"I'm sorry," Frank admitted bashfully. "I should've never-"

I interrupted his words with my kiss. He was looking at me, so all I had to do was move an inch or so. I didn't go rough or anything like that, I just did it really softly. And it felt weird. Right but wrong but nice but strange, all at the same time. I pulled away, feeling like I cheated on Des, but like I was supposed to at the same time. It was nice, but I was uncomfortable, so I bolted.

And here we are. "Um," Frank says, visibly surprised. "Yeah! That sounds great! I'd love to chill with you more."

"Cool!" I enthuse.

"I feel kind of like an outcast in this," Mikey points out.

"Sorry, Mikey. I'm sure you remember how cool he was to you, though. Like he got you that Anthrax shirt for your birthday and he'd always let you stick around us."

Mikey nods. "Yeah. Shit, that sucks."

"Absolutely," Frank concurs.

I look on as Frank and Mikey carry a conversation. I stare at Frank, mainly. He certainly isn't as dear to me as Des was, and still is, but there's a tiny notion of something. I feel this particle, crammed into my despair, stirring slowly. It's like comparing a drop of water to a whole sea, though, this mild attraction I feel for Frank as opposed to the undying love for Des. It's something. It's better than being alone, for sure. Lately, I've been in need of some interaction. I know that I have to escape Des, but he also said not to forget him... it's all very confusing, but I'm in need of some consoling.

"I think," I say loudly, getting Frank to look directly at me, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom."

Frank raises an eyebrow at me and smirks with mischief. I nod my head the slightest bit and head for the restrooms. I have no intention of using this bathroom in the way it's undoubtedly intended for. I'm waiting for Frank to come in. I hope he got my quasi-signal, because I got his loud and clear. I fix my hair and loosen my tie in the mirror. I don't hear the door yet, and it's not until I take off my jacket and roll up the sleeves of my white button-up that Frank comes in.

Not a single word is spoken. Frank steps in front of me and I caress his face gently before I kiss him. I feel his hand creep lightly around my waist and he exhales through his nose, making a contented sigh sound. I find this time appropriate to use my tongue. I slide it out of my mouth and across his bottom lip, making his fingers involuntarily squeeze me tighter. "Oh," he whispers, breaking our kiss, but my teeth are keeping his bottom lip in my mouth, "God."

I growl quietly in agreement and begin untucking Frank's shirt from his dress pants. I slip my hands under his shirt and get a hold of his skin. It's quite soft, and I'm liking it. I rub methodically back and forth around his hips as we tongue. It's funny, I haven't kissed anyone but Des for so long, I forgot what it could feel like with other people. Like how everyone has their own style. Des used to be shy and demure at first, then turn into a bat out of hell. Frank started as a bat out of hell, and he still is. I'm not used to aggression right off the bat, but I discover it turns me on pretty fast.

I want this to escalate, so I move my hands downwards and to the front of Frank's pants. I work his belt until it's undone, and I use the two parts of it hanging away from him to pull him closer to me. I then slide it from his belt loops and throw it to the floor. I unzip his fly and undo the two buttons of his pants in order to get to my prize. I slip my hand down, into his boxers - also soft, like his skin - and take hold of a not-so-very-soft part of Frank. He gasps in both pleasure and shock, and we both open our eyes and look at the other. I pull my lips from his very slowly, and say, "Can I?"

Frank doesn't answer, but rather undoes my belt and pants at light fucking speed, making me gasp much like he did. I haven't felt this anticipatory fluttering in my stomach for a while. The one that occurs when you know something fantastic and hot is going to happen. Despite being relieved that I feel it, it also annoys me, like it annoys anyone who experiences it. Dipping his own hands into my boxers, he asks, "Can I?"

I respond by pumping my hands up and down once. Ere repeating my action, he begins kissing me once more, but with the aggro fury of an escaped lion. At this rate, I won't need his help, but I'm grateful for it anyways. I groan into his mouth and he into mine when our hands find a synchronized rhythm, picking up speed with the intensity of our moans and kisses. I finish before him, rather intensely because of the newness of all this. I bury my head in his shoulder and grit my teeth as I let out one last moan, muffled by his shirt. I keep building Frank up until he hits his peak a minute or so later, just as - if not more - intensely as me.

I realize in dismay, after I wash my hands, that I have made a bit of a mess in my boxers. I harrumph at the fact that I have to throw these out. Frank notices my noise and asks me what's up.

"I kind of wrecked these," I admit shyly, pulling the waistband of my boxers.

"I feel you," Frank says, looking down.

I start stripping out of my pants and those boxers, and Frank coughs nervously. "Relax," I say, "I'm just throwing these out."

I bury my underwear in the paper towels and such, and put my pants back on. This material doesn't feel nice without anything between myself and it, but I grin and bear it. After all, it was by my own devices that they're in the garbage. Frank does the same and says, "I never knew you could do that."

"I don't think it's illegal. Better than cum stains on your pants, wouldn't you say?"

Frank laughs and pulls up his pants. "Yeah, that's true."

"So, um," I begin a little awkwardly. "How was it for you?"

Frank exhales, as if confused about what to say. "I've never... done that before... so there's no basis for comparison... but that was... it was... wow," he states carefully.

"Glad to wow you."

"It's not just that, it's like... we're in the bathroom of a church doing that together. Like, it turned me on beyond belief."

"You and me both, Frank."

"Call me Frankie."

"Call me Gee."

"Okay, Gee. Should we go back to Mikey? I'm sure he's pretty lonely."

"Good call, Frankie."

We walk very close by eachother back to the corner where Mikey is standing awkwardly against the wall, suspecting nothing, I hope. Although he's a bright kid, so I think he at least has an inkling of what happens around him. He raises an eyebrow at Frank and I and asks, "What took you two so long?"

"I had a little breakdown in the bathroom," Frank answers quickly. "Gerard made sure I was all good."

I nod in agreement, surprised at Frank's quick wit. I put my arm around his shoulders and give it a small squeeze. "He was bawling like a baby. But he's okay now. Right, Frank?"

"Better than okay," Frank purrs, although I think I'm the only one who construes it that way.

"Oh..." Mikey says, a little uncomfortably. "That's good, then."

We all talk some more and then my mom calls me. I know, it's a little inappropriate to have your cell phone during a funeral, but I don't think Des would have minded. "Hello?" I answer.

"Hi, Gerard. Do you want me to come get you and Mikey?"

"Uh, sure," I say, but I tell my mom to hang on because Frank taps me on the shoulder. "Yeah?" I ask him.

"Did you want me to give you and Mikey a lift?"

"Really?"

"Sure."

I talk to my mom again. "Actually, Frank offered us a ride. That cool?"

"Oh, that's fine. I'll see you when you get here."

"Yup. Bye, mom."

I hang up the phone and grin thankfully at Frank. I really have no desire to be away from him right now, and I don't give a crap about what Mikey wants right now. He goes where I go.

"Shall we head out?" Frank asks, gesturing to the door.

I walk out the door beside Mikey, and he doesn't say much. Probably because he doesn't care much who gives him a ride home. I think back on a few minutes prior, and while I feel satisfied and something different and weird for Frank, I also feel disgusted with myself. Des wouldn't have done that at my funeral, especially if I had said not to forget him. How could I? That was absolutely senseless... and it's so fucked up, 'cause I still love Des. It hurts that I do, because I can never tell him that or tell him that ever again. But at the same time, there's this spark I have in the pit of my stomach for Frank, and I can't very well ignore it. But that makes me feel selfish and an ungrateful boyfriend to Des, like I was just in it for nothing. And now I'm moving in on his best friend, who I don't quite know about. There is actually no level of certainty in my actions towards Frank. He seems to let me do things with him and he seems to want me to, but there has been no mention of sexuality. I don't know anymore. I want to remain faithful to Des since it feels like he's still the love of my life, but how am I to do that?

Frank unlocks the car doors and I crawl in the back. I don't need to be next to him. There's a lump in my throat and I don't like it there. I try and swallow it, but I can't. It feels like it's getting bigger and bigger and choking me more with every second. I attempt to clear my throat, not just swallow this shitty feeling, but the throat-clear gives way to a heaving sob. Frank and Mikey look back at me, but I smile tightly to let them know I'm fine. I try and rein it in, and I do, albeit uncomfortably. Tears roll silently down my face for Des, for my stupidity, and for everything.

We pull up to my house and Mikey thanks Frank before he goes inside. I can't move right now, nor do I want to. I don't want to go to my room and bawl alone. I need someone right now.

"Gerard?" Frank addresses me uncomfortably. "We're here."

I want to say, "Oh, so we are. Thank you, Frank, for the ride." But what I actually say, is "Oh, so- oh, God!" and I begin to cry violently. "I can't fucking believe it!"

I hear the car door slam, another open, and I feel Frank hugging me tightly. I'm quite literally brimming over with emotion. Mainly loss and confusion, but there's also some lust, some comfort and a little bit of nostalgia. I can't stop crying, nor can I form a coherent sentence. My pants are quite damp in on the thighs from my tears hitting them. My throat is killing me, as are my eyes. I know I look shitty, and I know I'm all red, and I know that if Des saw me right now he'd be kissing my forehead, telling me it was all gonna be alright. Frank's doing a fine job of comforting me, though. He's hugging me and rubbing my back, which always helps me when I'm upset.

I finally stop bawling after what seemed like a really long time, but was probably only five minutes. I laugh a little nervously and say, "Wow. Sorry about that one."

"No worries," Frank says quietly. "You helped me with that breakdown in the bathroom."