A/N: I took an unplanned break from this. When I came back to it, I began revising old chapters rather than writing more. I'm still doing that (I'm on chapter six), but I'm going to try to re-start frequent updates.
Frank was still anxious three hours later when the guys were done practicing and watching television. He could lose himself in the music for all of 40 seconds before the stress of the upcoming night would hit him and make it hard for him to even form a chord. Now he was stuck on a couch in front of endless reruns of 90's sitcoms with the remnants of his lunch in his lap, and he was awaiting his impending demise.
He stood to take his plate to the kitchen, and another episode of "Dharma and Greg" ended. There really wasn't anything else on, and pretty soon yet another episode had run its 30 minutes. Each of the episodes blurred together and surreptitiously consumed the precious time separating Frank and the night. It was an alarming rate, really, and Frank was convinced that no other genre of television could suck a person's life away so effectively. Dharma was panicking over having punched some guy who probably deserved it, and Greg was trying to talk some sense into her when Gerard leaned over from the other end of the couch.
"Are you getting weird vibes off of Matt and Ray?" Gerard muttered only loud enough for Frank to hear.
Frank half-whispered back, "You've noticed too?"
"Mikey told them, didn't he? Little bastard."
"Don't be too hard on him. He looks like he's feeling guilty. Besides, did you even ask him to stay quiet?"
"Well, no, but, Christ, it's only been a week. He couldn't keep his mouth shut for seven days?"
"Let him focus his energy on keeping himself alive. A few days ago he brought a heater into the shower with him."
"Oh, God. That is the brother I trusted a secret with. No wonder everyone knows about us." Frank sighed. At least he wouldn't have to suffer Matt and Ray's abrasive curiosity alone.
The current of sitcoms carried them swiftly to dinner. Fortunately, the focus of dinner conversation for Mrs. Way was her own children, and Frank only had to supply brief answers to a couple questions given out of courtesy. She, Gerard, and Mikey did bicker about the latter's education and whether he should be in college, but this time Gerard didn't drag Frank into it. All Frank had to do was keep his eyes on his plate… Then it was time to sleep.
Mrs. Way explained the sleeping arrangements simply. She had reserved rooms for her son's visits. The boys were going to split up, and each of them could sleep in either Mikey's room or Gerard's room. Frank quickly became familiar with the conflict Gerard had known so well lately. The two things he wanted desperately were to be with Gerard and to be away from him. With all the stress here, he needed to cling to the person he knew was on his side, but he also got the feeling that the universe would implode if he chose Gerard's room.
Frank had to act quickly; Ray was already off to Mikey's room. Then Matt chose to follow Gerard. That settled the matter because, honestly, Matt still made him uneasy. He gave off this vibe like people were constantly pissing him off.
Mikey was in his room with Ray, throwing quilts and blankets onto the floor beside the single bed that was pushed against the wall. Frank joined in silently. Mrs. Way dropped off some extra bedding, and when the pile constituted a makeshift mattress, Mikey collapsed onto the real bed. It was painfully quiet as they prepared to sleep. Then, as Frank was stripping down to get more comfortable, Ray caved to his curiosity and spoke.
"What is it like being with a guy?" Ray asked bluntly. Frank's jeans were down by his ankles.
"You really had to ask that as I'm taking my pants off?" Frank grumbled.
"Cut him some slack," interjected Mikey. "He's just sexually frustrated because Jill doesn't notice the puddle of drool he forms every time she walks into a room." Frank raised his eyebrows in surprise. This was new. "You can actually see his hair getting bigger with the buildup of sexual tension." Frank giggled when he noticed that Mikey was right. Ray had an impressive head of wild brown curls, and it was looking larger than usual.
"Hey! She's noticed. She gave me this look the last time I saw her like she totally knew I was after her." Ray wiggled his eyebrows. "I think she was into it."
Mikey's eyes rolled so hard that they may have fallen out of his head. "Sure," he said. "But, back on topic - for Frank's sake and mine - abort your question."
Whether or not he needed to provide one, Frank couldn't help but wonder what the answer to Ray's question was. How would he describe 'being with' a guy? Well, more specifically, being with Gerard. He and Gerard hadn't done anything since that one time, so he didn't have much to go on. The word to describe the encounter was, honestly, awkward – with a little touch of awesome. The touch of awesome was important because it was that touch that was driving Frank insane wanting to do it again. The next time, though, he wanted to do it correctly, without the awkwardness.
While Frank was mulling the question over, Ray obediently put his curiosity on hold, but only for a few minutes. He soon blurted out, "So, what is it like then?" Mikey immediately chucked a pillow at him.
"That's my brother you're asking about!" Mikey shouted.
"Calm down, ladies," a voice called from the doorway.
Gerard made his way in with Matt behind him. They sat down with Frank and Ray in the pile of blankets and pillows.
"How's the room, Mikey?" Gerard continued.
"Not bad," Mikey answered, shrugging. "But you have to wonder why Mom has them ready for us. It's like she's counting down the minutes until we have to move back home."
"Cool. My room had an ironing board in the middle of it, so I'm not nearly as convinced that she's ready to have us back with her fulltime... It's a nice house, though. Sucks that she had to wait to get it until she and Dad split."
"Why did she have to wait?" Ray prodded. "Wouldn't she want a house like this when she was still raising a family?"
Gerard grimaced a little. "Our parents were always at odds with each other. How they used their money was a big topic for them, and Dad was always trying to hold onto cash for who-the-hell-knows-why. They didn't want to divorce, though, until Mikey and I were out of the house, so Mom, saint that she is, had to wait until now to do what she wanted."
"They probably should have ended it sooner," Mikey added. "Then at least when I was stuck at home, I could have had some quiet." He turned to Ray. "Gerard doesn't remember this because he was older and could just leave, but the fighting got so bad some days, especially after he had left for college and Mom and Dad were just counting down the days until they could split. Mrs. Torres – the woman next door - used to hear them screaming at each other and come get me. She'd give Mom and Dad this speech about how little old ladies need help with their houses and then ask if she could 'borrow' me."
Ray looked like he regretted prying into the subject. "My home was pretty messed up too," Ray offered as consolation. "My parents were so scared of the neighborhood that I wasn't really allowed outside. I'd sit in my room playing guitar all day, but my mom filled the house with these bright colors everywhere – just yellow and orange and pink. They slowly sucked away my sanity if I stayed home too long."
"I know the pain of a mother's decorating," Mikey empathized. "When I as little, I was terrified of the dark, and my mom had this porcelain doll collection that was really fucking creepy. I tried to get her to lock them up in a cupboard, but she never would… Despite all of that, I still preferred home over high school." The entire room grunted in agreement. "My best high school memory is when I graduated and didn't have to go back." Mikey chuckled and added, "The teachers thought there was something wrong with me because I wouldn't talk to other kids. I was almost playing mind games with them."
Ray snorted laughter. "Of course," he said.
"Hey, I know for a fact your high school days weren't any better. You went to school with Gerard; don't assume he didn't tell me anything about you."
"What?!" Frank exclaimed. "Why has no one mentioned anything about this?"
"We weren't that close," explained Ray. "But there was a loose friendship, mainly because neither of us was popular. Actually, to sum up our high school years: We were birth control." Gerard grinned at the last statement.
"Yeah, Ray and I didn't get to know each other very well until later. I was this weird loner kid who got drunk all the time." Gerard's voice forced levity onto the statement that was clearly unnatural, and Frank stiffened. He was learning a lot of new things about Gerard. Of course when they first met, Gerard had told him that high school had sucked, but Frank figured that was normal. He had idolized Gerard as the older, mysterious friend who had already beaten it all.
"Around other people, I could pass the drinking off as being a wild teen," Gerard continued. "When people don't know you, they're ready to buy the explanation that weigh lightest on their minds. I found solace at the comic book store, but from there I'd go home alone, maybe talk to Mikey, raid the cabinets for booze, sit in my room drinking alone, and then call it a day. It wasn't necessarily my choice, but… I just wasn't very sociable I guess." He shrugged and cast his head down.
All of Frank's senses were alive with the urge to enfold Gerard's body in his and offer him some form of comfort for a past it was too late to change. Frank moved forward, almost fulfilling his desperate compulsion, but then he realized that there were other people in the room. He froze at Gerard's side with his hands in front of his chest and looked to Mikey. They locked eyes for only a moment, but Frank's intention was understood. Mikey gave a slight nod.
Frank threw his arms around Gerard's shoulders and pulled him fiercely into his chest. Gerard's head flicked upward in surprise, but he relaxed himself into the hug. If Frank held the man in his arms together with enough force, he felt that maybe the boy sitting alone with the empty bottles had a chance of feeling it. What a waste of loneliness on a person who was so worthy of love. Ray shifted a bit on his pillow; however, neither he nor Matt said anything.
"So, Matt," Mikey said, "I believe it's your turn to share a tale of miserable childhoods."
"I think I'll pass," Matt replied. "High school is awful and all, but if we hear another pity story, even the damn furniture in this room with be on antidepressants."
"Tell me about it," Frank concurred. All the energy was drained from his voice, and his chin was resting on the head of the person into whom he had poured it all. "God forbid we get to prom experiences. My date ended up sleeping with my friend."
"Aaaaaand I'm looking for a shrink who will administer drugs to chairs," Mikey joked.
The following laughter ended the discussion, and everyone fell asleep. Everyone but Frank. Maybe it was the fact that the blankets made a terrible cushion between him and the floor, but he couldn't keep his eyes closed. Entirely restless, he cautiously crept out of the bedroom and toward the living area. He peered at the items on a small table by the couch. The eternal glow of New Jersey light pollution seeping between the blinds allowed him to examine them more closely. Then he heard a noise in the kitchen.
Frank jumped back and knocked a framed photo over in the process. As he scrambled to pick it up, Mrs. Way stuck her head into the living room.
"Frank," her muted voice called across the room, "do you need something?"
"Uh, um, no," Frank answered, moving closer to address her. "I just can't sleep."
"Neither can I. I'm a hopeless insomniac. I was hoping to talk to you, actually, before you left. Come into the kitchen."
Upon entering the lit room, Frank watched Mrs. Way walk over to the sink.
"I get most of my cleaning done at night," she explained.
Frank noticed a pile of half-washed dishes. "May I help?" he asked.
"No, that's fine; I'm almost done. Have a seat. Would you like something to drink?" Frank shook his head 'no', but she nonetheless brought him a glass of water once he sat down at the table.
"Are you and Gerard doing alright? He's told me a lot about you," Mrs. Way inquired. It was a strange way to phrase that question; at least Frank thought so. He chose his words carefully.
"Both Gerard and I are doing well."
"And as a couple? Or are you not calling it that yet?" Frank choked on his water. Mrs. Way came over to him half laughing and asked whether he was okay.
"You know about all of that?" wheezed Frank.
"Well, I don't need to know about all of it, but he told me yesterday before the rest of you got here that he wasn't straight and that you two were involved." She smiled. "It wasn't a surprise. I've known Gerard wasn't straight since he was in grade school. A mother can tell. And when he started calling me, telling me about the old friend he had found with the amazing guitar playing and the bright, enthusiastic eyes, I knew what was happening."
Frank stared at her in utter shock for a while longer before commenting, "You've taken it really well."
"It seems like you're having more trouble with this conversation than I am."
"I just don't expect this kind of, uh, casual acceptance from parents. I'm terrified of mine coming into town. Gah, I only have a few more days."
"What makes you sure you can't open up to them?"
"With my parents, I need to be the person they want me to be. I'm in their peripheral vision until I become anything they don't approve of, and then I'm front and center… Then they find a way to take the things I've chosen for myself."
"You've thought about this a lot." She let out a long breath. "You seem like a very nice boy. Both my sons like you, and Gerard cares about you so much. What he doesn't say I can hear in his voice every time he brings you up. I can't promise you anything with your parents, and I'm sorry you have to deal with that. But if you take care of my son, you will always have a place here."
Both Frank and Mrs. Way smiled. It was a warm exchange, and Frank returned to bed feeling that warmth throughout his body. Working his way through the hallway, he stopped and glanced into Gerard's room at the sleeping figure with black hair strewn across his face. He looked calm. It must be nice to have no more secrets. When Frank finally slept, his dreams were nowhere near peaceful.