Please, Try Again - 27

I've rewritten this thing about 50 times -- so I'm posting it before I can rewrite it another 50. Chapter 29 will be the final chapter to this part of the story.

Comments letting me know what you think really would be very appreciated, especially since I rewrote this so many times stressing about it.

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Title: Please, Try Again - Chapter 27
Author: vitalspark
Pairing: Frank/Gerard . Patrick Stump, Pete Wentz, Adam Lazzara, Brendon Urie, William Beckett and Ryan Ross all end up making appearances.
Rating: NC-17 as a whole.
Summary: AU -- "This, was real..." 23 year-old Gerard Way shot to fame after portraying a tortured high school student who turns on his high school in the indie film of the year, immediately generating Oscar Buzz. Thrust suddenly into the spotlight, he's torn between his new hetero 'Hollywood 'It Boy'' status and lifestyle, and the small town homosexual man that he was -- engaged to his 17 year-old lover, Frank Iero.
POV: Third-person.
Authors Note: Gerard is 23, Frank is 17, but this is not a pedophile fic. Their ages are an important note to the story, but it is not all that the story is about.
Dedications: Thank you to everyone who has commented!
Disclaimer: Fake, fake, fake.


All chapters, etcetera, can be found at vitalspark.




William Beckett wasn't happy. And when he wasn't happy, he intended to make life miserable for everyone around him.

"What the fuck is wrong with kicking him out?" he asked Pete, his long legs stretched out in front of him, ready to trip anyone who walked by without looking.

"Because the fans you have now have established him-"

"Didn't you say its better to replace members before the first album comes out of any band?" William threw in, cutting Pete off without a second thought. "Sure fans know he's the guitarist. But the millions of future fans who have yet to hear us don't know about him, and won't give a fuck."

Pete sighed. William was someone who liked to pick and choose what he listened to. And it never failed he would remember the one thing needed in order to win his case.

"Do you have any other reasons for wanting him out?" Pete asked. "Build a stronger case here William; you can't just attack him for knocking up his girl."

"Why the fuck not? It shows where his priorities lie.” William was stretched out in an easy chair, his head resting against the top of the cushion. Sitting up a little, he leaned against the table that stood between his body and Pete’s. "You know very well that when you're in a band, that's what comes first. Every single one of us has given up major portions of our lives to get to where we are and make this shit happen. Now, as we're on the brink of something big, of all our hard work paying off, that little bitch knocks his girl up. His heart isn't in this band. His heart is off being a little bitch to the major bitch."

Pete hated when he couldn't argue with William. Sure, he could try, but in most cases William found some way to bitch logically, eliminating most things Pete could say in return.

So Pete just shrugged helplessly. "You're right," he said. "What do you want me to say about it Bill? I understand how you're feeling about it. But I'm telling you that right now, you just need to chill and let things run their course. Now isn't the time to be replacing a guitarist. Get your shit together, make sure everything is on track, and then make your decision."

* * *

Before he went to Frank, he had to make a stop.

Stepping into the busy mall, he kept his face down and made his way in the direction that he knew the store was in. He had made this trip quite a few times in the past few years with Frank; the path to the front door was practically burned into his memory. Passing the pet store, he looked up briefly to make sure he was rounding the corner and not bumping into it or other holiday shoppers before walking down the next hallway. Three storefronts down, the store was still there, Christmas lights lining the interior of the window with paintings of candy canes and gingerbread men greeting the people that stopped by to take a look through the window

“Gerard!” Lorenzo, the man behind the counter currently helping a customer called out the second he saw him walk in. “It has been so long! You wait there and I will be right with you!”

A smile slid easily over his face, and he gave a small nod and lifted his hand in a partial wave as he watched him return to the waiting customer. Some things never changed. This was one of them, and he was grateful.

Turning around, he took in the store, the displays covered in holiday cheer. Ever since Frank had developed the interest in photography they had been making weekend trips up to the camera shop. Lorenzo was an old high school friend of Aunt Gina’s, and he had always made it a point to give Gerard and Frank the best deal he could on the equipment that Frank needed , even if it meant not making a bit of profit on the deal for himself. Gerard had been appreciative for it in the beginning, there were things he knew Aunt Gina simply couldn’t afford and without Frank’s knowledge he always tried to pay for his photography things by himself so that Frank could have all that he needed. He never told Frank where most of the money had come from, just let him believe that Aunt Gina was the one responsible for footing the bill. Aunt Gina had figured out what was going on, and cornered him one night in the kitchen asking what was going on. Gerard didn’t have an answer for her; he just didn’t want Frank to know.

Leaning in to look at a display closer, he dragged his finger over the top of a camera body. Picking up the display model he looked through the viewfinder, taking a test shot and tilting down the camera so he could see the picture in the review window. He was terrible at photographs, the only artistic talent he had was when it came to drawing, and he hadn’t done that in awhile.

A hand was placed on his shoulder, and he turned his head to see Lorenzo standing next to him. “Gerard, my boy!” the man exclaimed, and the smile returned to Gerard’s face. Setting down the display model, he faced him fully and embraced him in a hug. “It has been too long! How has LA been for you?”

“It’s been good, very good,” Gerard said, nodding along with what he said when the two had parted. Brushing some of his hair out of his face, he smiled. “I cannot complain about things. How are you Lorenzo? And your family, are they well?”

“Oh,” Lorenzo said, the familiar twinkle in his eye as he lifted up his finger to wave it a little. “You know the wife! It was the holidays, lots of presents, lots of family, lots of food!” He nudged Gerard lightly with his elbow, laughing as he spoke. “You will have to come over before you go back to Los Angeles! The wife needs to see how big you’ve gotten.”

Gerard had to laugh at that. Every time Lorenzo saw him, he was convinced that Gerard was getting bigger though Gerard could say for a fact that he hadn’t gotten any taller since he was 17. He might gain a little more pudge between visits with Lorenzo, but taller was one thing that just wasn’t happening.

“I’ll definitely have to. I haven’t seen your wife in ages.” Running a hand through his hair, he looked back at the camera, then to Lorenzo. “So what’s new in the shop? What’s hot right now?”

“Oh!” Lorenzo exclaimed, “There are so many amazing things happening in the digital world right now!” Stepping behind the counter they were at, he adjusted a stack of fliers on the countertop. “You know Frank stopped by a couple of days ago,” he said, winking at Gerard as he spoke, “expressed interest in a certain model that fits the work he’s doing now…”

Gerard pressed his lips together, bowing his head to hide the small smile he tried to suppress but failed at. Looking back up at Lorenzo, the smile grew wider. “Did he now?” he asked, unable to find anything other than amusement in the whole situation. Of course Frank stopped by the shop since he lived in the city now, and of course he had found something that had sparked his interest. He couldn’t think of a time when Frank had been in the shop where he hadn’t found something that he had wanted almost instantly. But this? This was just too perfect of a set-up. “What was it that he wanted?”

Reaching down underneath the counter, Lorenzo pulled out a bag and set it down on the counter. He pulled a box out from the bag, reaching back into the bag to pull out a second one and setting the bag down on the ground. “He told me he was shooting those music bands, I don’t know who they are; you know I can’t listen to your kids’ music these days. But low-light, need to be able to blow up the images. This is a good camera body for him to move to from the one he’s using now,” Lorenzo said, picking up the box with the body and showing him the back with the details.

Handing the box to Gerard, Lorenzo then picked up the box holding the lens. Gerard stopped him before he could explain what the lens did. “I won’t really understand what that lens does even if you explain it,” he admitted. “But for what it is Frank’s doing… it’s good for that?”

“It’s one of the best, given his skill and what he’s hoping to achieve,” Lorenzo said, looking back down at the box and tapping it a few times with his finger. “It’s not the best on the market right now, but it’s quite a step up from what he’s been using. His pictures will be dramatically different.”

“Okay,” Gerard said, giving the box with the camera body back to him. “I’ll take both.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his wallet as Lorenzo put the boxes back in the bag, taking them from the counter they were at back to the register.

Following him, Gerard set his credit card down on the table as he watched him ring up both items. The total was enough to make his stomach churn. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he took a deep breath and handed the card to Lorenzo. This was definitely going to set him back a little in the financial department. Opening his eyes back up, he watched the card being swiped, and took the offered pen to sign his name on the receipt.

“Write down the information,” he said suddenly, finishing his signature and giving the paper and pen back to Lorenzo. “Next time Frank comes in here and wants something, just charge it to the card. I’ve got to go back to LA in a couple of days and won’t be able to be here physically with the card.”

Smiling at him, Lorenzo set the receipt and pen down next to the register and slid the bag with the camera to Gerard. “My son,” he said, reaching over and placing a hand on his arm. “He is very lucky to have you.”

* * *

“Can we just hire you as our cook?” Frank asked, his voice muffled around the mashed potatoes and broccoli that he had stuffed into his cheeks.

Patrick stared at him, not amused in the slightest.

“How is it,” he said, resting his wrist on the dinner table and looking at Franks plate, then back at his face, “that you manage to take something like mashed potatoes and stuff your mouth so fucking full you can’t even talk properly?”

Carissa, Pete, and William looked between the two, eager to see exactly where the discussion was going to lead.

Frank just stared at Patrick, not giving a vocal response. After a few seconds, his lips slid into a slow grin, stretching his mouth as wide as he could. Opening his mouth, he let the chewed up food become exposed, before his tongue started pushing at it, chunks of food falling back onto his plate.

The entire table groaned. Pete set down his fork and covered his eyes with his hand, William ended up in a cheer, reaching over to high five Frank.

Carissa pushed herself away from the table. “Anybody want a beer?” she asked.

“Ugh fuck, I think I do after seeing that,” Patrick said, getting up and following her into the kitchen.

Frank, meanwhile, had dissolved into laughter.

Eventually, everyone that had been at the table had calmed down enough to sit back down and finish the meal with at least a little bit of decency. Aside from Frank opening his mouth the few times he noticed Patrick watching him just to mess with him.

“So hey,” Frank said suddenly, turning his face to look at William and Pete. Swallowing what was in his mouth, he rested his fork on the table. “Are you really going to kick Jake out of the band?”

“Yes,” William said immediately, but Pete cut him off before he could say anything more.

“We don’t know at this point,” he said, giving William a look. “They’ve got a tour in the works, and it’s not that easy to just up and say, hey, the guitarist is out of the band, you know? It’s going to take someone new awhile to learn the parts and learn them well, it’s not something you want to just jump into lightly, if it can be avoided, you want to find a fix.”

William rolled his eyes, looking over at Pete. “He sure jumped into her whore hole quickly so, fuck him. I’m telling you, once Ryan gets back from Vegas we’re looking for another guitarist.”

“William,” Pete said, shaking his head slowly. “Remember what I said. Don’t fuck it up before things really happen for you.”

“Oh, things will happen for me,” William said, “without Jake being there to be witness to it all.”

Frank winced a little, looking back down at his plate and spearing a piece of broccoli. “Well, I know not to bring that up at the dinner table again, that’s for sure.”

* * *

Some time after dinner, with Patrick in the kitchen and Carissa in the living room talking to Pete, William found himself grabbing a couple of beers and heading out onto the balcony where Frank was sitting.

“There some chick across the street that walks around naked in her apartment or something?” he asked upon stepping outside, shutting the patio door behind him and handing Frank a beer.

Looking up at his friend, Frank’s eyes fell on the beer, hesitating for a few seconds before finally reaching up and taking it. He looked back out at the building across from them as he popped the top. “You wish,” he said. “There’s Edna, this old lady who seriously has five cats. I don’t know if Edna is her real name, but she looks like an Edna. I make up names and stories for all the people that leave their curtains open.”

“Really?” William asked, sitting in a chair next to him and staring out at the building. “Any hot chicks I can go over and hit on?”

Laughing, Frank nodded. He pointed at a window on the fourth floor that was dark, curtains drawn. “There’s this blonde girl there, she usually has the curtains open when she’s home. She’s really pretty. No boyfriend anymore, they broke up and I watched the whole thing. He was a jerk, I’m glad she got rid of him.”

“Nice, I might have you point her out to me again when it’s been awhile and I need some,” William said. Drinking some of his beer, he set the can down when he was done and looked over at Frank. “So, this is what you do out here all the time? Spy on people?”

“No,” Frank said, a blush coming to his cheeks. Lifting the can, he took a few sips of beer. “Well, I don’t know. I guess so. I just started coming out here to think and relax and well, I ended up doing that because there’s only so much thinking you can do before you start to wonder if you’re going crazy.”

“You got that right,” William said, picking his beer back up and keeping it in his hand, resting it on his thigh. Both boys remained silent for a few moments, before William spoke again. “You know, when I broke up with my girlfriend, it was shitty for a couple of months. I was fucking obsessed with her, it was disgusting.”

Turning his head at William’s words, Franks eyes fell on his profile. “What happened?” he asked, a curious tone to his voice.

“Well,” William said, lifting up his hands and motioning to the city. “I moved out here. I was so fucking miserable at home, couldn’t think of anything so I decided to just start fresh and move out here. I left the band I was with, moved out here and met up with Pete and Ryan. Best decision of my life, you know? It took a lot of balls, nobody ever knows if you’re going to “make it” in this city. But sometimes it’s the strangest choices that you make that bring the best things in to your life.” Looking over at Frank, he arched an eyebrow. “Or, back in to your life.”

Franks eyes meeting Williams when William had turned his face to look at him, he let out a quiet exhale. “Talking about Gerard?” he asked, turning once more to press his back against the seat, staring back out at the apartment building in front of them. “I don’t think he’s coming back anymore. Or—”

“So fucking what?” William interrupted, a shrug leaving his shoulders. “Don’t take what I said literally. Think about it; let it roll over in your mind. Look at it this way kid, you’ve got all of us here ready to help you out in any thing it is that you want to do. Who gets that sort of opportunity? You’re Jersey trash,” he held up his hand quickly before Frank could vocally object to his New Jersey remark, “and now you’re living in this clean, New York apartment which trust me, the clean thing is rare, able to do anything you want in the world.”

Picking up his beer, William held it up in front of him and stared at Frank until he got the hint to pick up his own and mimic William’s actions. “So, Franklin Iero,” William said, turning his face to the side a little and keeping his eyes on Frank. “Tell me the craziest thing you dream of doing?”

Keeping quiet for a few moments, Frank bit the inside of his cheek as he poured over the various dreams he had had since he was young. Finally, one of the more absurd ones popped into his head. Turning red, he thought about objecting to get out of saying it, but one look at William’s face made it clear that he wasn’t moving until Frank answered.

“On stage,” Frank started, his voice soft at first, growing a bit louder and more confident as he shared one of his eight-year-old fantasies. “Playing a Guns N Roses song, being the center of attention, just… ripping ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ or another one of their songs to shreds… in a good way though. In a way that, just going fucking crazy, playing your heart out… jumping on all the amps, running around the stage, tripping and falling, and playing on my back, sliding across the floor as I play the song, and the fans that just go absolutely wild. Like one of those legendary performances that you hear about from that era, the kind of stuff you don’t see anymore.”

The entire time Frank had been talking William didn’t say a word. His whole goal had been for Frank to admit something that he had dreamed about. Get him to use his imagination a little, realize he could do anything he wanted now. He didn’t expect Frank to turn around and say he had dreamt of being a hair metal Slash-type music legend, but to each their own when it came to dreams.

Setting his beer down on the table, William reached out and pressed the palms of his hands against Frank’s cheeks. Leaning in, he pressed a friendly kiss to Frank’s lips.

“Frank,” he said once he had pulled back, staring at the boy and meeting his eyes with a soft, genuine look. “The best part about you, is that you’re no longer lost in his shadow. You’ve got promise kid, you. Frank. Make it happen.”

* * *

After he had gotten the camera, it took him at least an hour and a half of walking down the block in front of the apartment before he got the nerve to even stand on the doorstep. Then came the staring at the button for the buzzer on the wall that, when pressed, alerted those in the apartment that he was standing outside, asking to be let in the front door. This was going to take just a bit longer then expected.

Taking another deep breath, he closed his eyes and tried to bring his nerves down. It was hopeless, he was going to be nervous regardless when it came to talking to Frank, but if he didn’t even let himself walk in the front door, then nothing was going to happen.

Someone walking out of the apartment startled him out of his thoughts, and he stepped back off of the steps to give them room to properly leave. Watching them walk right past him and down the block, he sighed and looked back at the door that was slowly closing. He had about ten seconds left if he wanted to catch the door before it closed, letting himself in to walk to Pete’s apartment on his own.

He let it close.

This was pathetic. He had never been afraid to talk to Frank now, but knowing that he’d have to explain himself, why he did the things he did while hoping that Frank would give him another chance was scary. He had brought it on himself though, and he had nobody else to blame.

Before he could give it a second thought, he stepped back up to the door and quickly pressed the button.

It took a few moments before someone responded to him. The clear female voice slid through the box to his ears. “Who is it?”

Swallowing thickly, Gerard’s hand tightened around the handles of the bag. “It’s Gerard.”

* * *

Carissa definitely hadn’t expected to hear Gerard’s voice come from the other end of the speaker.

Not answering him right away, she just stared at the speaker. Pete, who had been in the living room next to her, came up to stand next to her when he noticed her hesitation.

“It’s okay,” he said, “trust me.” Reaching over, he pressed his finger to the button of the speaker. “Come up bro.”

When the speaker was back off, Carissa turned to look at Pete. “You knew he was coming?”

“No,” Pete said truthfully. “At least not right this second.” He looked over his shoulder to see where Frank was, and when he spotted him on the balcony he turned back to look at her. “We met up the other day, had a talk. He had figured out that Frank was here, wanted to come and talk to him.”

“So you just told him to stop by?” Carissa asked as a frown set over her features. “After all that he did? He’s just going to hurt Frank again.”

“Gerard’s made some stupid mistakes,” Pete said, rubbing his jaw and looking back out at the balcony door at Frank. “But never underestimate just how much he loves Frank. You wouldn’t understand because you didn’t grow up with them, so just trust me when I say if Frank gives him a second chance, Gerard won’t be messing up again.”

Carissa had opened her mouth to reply, but Gerard’s knock interrupted her.

“You better be sure about that,” she said quietly, stepping back so that Pete could reach forward and open the door.

Gerard stood there, an unsure look on his face as he took in the pair standing there watching him. “Hey…” he said slowly, pressing his free palm against his thigh.

“Hey man,” Pete said, “come on in.” He moved back from the door, giving Gerard room to walk through and into the apartment.

He did after a bit of hesitation, taking in the apartment covered in all of the holiday decorations. Gaudy garland hung around the entertainment system with a few holiday candles and snow globes on top. Mistletoe hung from the ceiling under the loft in various spots, lights entwined with the railing that lined the open wall of Pete’s room.

And in the corner stood the Christmas tree, completely decorated in strands of rainbow lights.

The kind Frank had pleaded with Aunt Gina year after year for and had never gotten them.

“He finally got his lights,” Gerard said suddenly, fixated on the glowing lights.

Pete looked over at Carissa, giving her a knowing look. She rolled her eyes. “Fine, you were right,” she said quietly, a beam quickly coming over Pete’s face.

Gerard looked at the balcony door to see what Frank was doing, and his breath immediately caught in his throat when he saw Frank standing right behind the glass door, staring at him, and white as a ghost.

Taking a deep breath once he finally regained the ability to, he started walking towards the balcony door.

* * *

William taking the empty beer cans, he had left a couple out for Frank as he head headed inside, making a few remarks on if they left Pete and Carissa together for too long, Pete was sure to try and jump in her pant. Laughing, Frank had waved him away and continued to watch the city as he enjoyed one of the beers, Williams’s words bouncing around in his head. When he had finally decided to head on in, he had taken a deep breath, composed himself from his thoughts, and stood.

Of all things he expected to see when he had turned around, given who was currently staying at the apartment and the ridiculous things they were capable of, seeing Gerard standing inside was the absolute last thing he had expected.

All he could do was stand there frozen, his breathing shallow, his mouth dry.

And when Gerard turned to look at him and started walking over, he could have passed out right then.

Instead, the closer he got, the more Frank found himself backing up, to the point where he was out of in front of the door and backed into a dark corner of the balcony, hidden from view from inside of the apartment.

He didn’t know if he was trying to hide, or if he was trying to find some way off the balcony that wouldn’t result in him falling a few stories down to the sidewalk.

All he knew was when the door slowly slid open that he could feel the iron rod of the railing press hard into his back, his hands holding tightly onto it.

“Hi,” he finally was able to say weakly, his voice more of a squeak then anything else.

Gerard stood in the middle of the balcony after he had closed the door behind him, staring at Frank pressed against the railing. Frank looked near terrified to be in the vicinity of him, and that was enough to make him feel like complete shit for even attempting to come over and talk to him.

Sighing, he set down the bag next to the chair behind him, and faced Frank once more. “Are you really that scared of me?” he asked softly, stuffing his hands in his pockets and staring at him. “Fuck, did I hurt you that badly?”

“No… I just… I don’t know,” Frank finally mumbled, slowly relaxing from his tense position against the railing. “You’re just the last person I expected to see right now.”

“Oh,” Gerard said, “yeah, I guess I can see that.”

Frank was blunt. “What are you doing here?”

“I uh,” Gerard started, fidgeting with his shirt, “I came to see you. I wanted to talk to you about LA, about why you left.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. That’s what you want, that sort of life. I don’t fit in that life, I got it loud and clear, so I left.” He, Frank, was having a hard time even looking at Gerard now, choosing everything between the building across the street and the floor to look at instead of Gerard.

And Gerard, well he couldn’t even recognize the boy that stood in front of him. He had noticed the hairstyle right off the bat, the way his bangs and hair from the mohawk covered half his face, the newly shorn sides. Eyeliner outlined the very bottom of his eyes, a little shaky in some parts, but it was clear that the technique had been practiced.

As much as his look had changed since the last time he had seen him, standing in front of him was still very much the boy he had been in love with. That he still was in love with.

“You think that’s the life I want?” he asked, turning his head a little to try and meet Franks eyes, but Frank refused to look at him. Taking a few steps forward, he stopped right in front of him, reaching out and cupping Franks jaw in his hand.

He could feel Frank’s startled jump, his eyes instantly snapping up to look directly into Gerard’s. Now that he was closer he could see the lines of eyeliner were a little shakier then he had originally thought, there was a smudge or two in the corner of one eye from a fingertip, too much eyeliner lead, any reason really.

“Do you honestly think that that’s the life I wanted?” he asked again, his voice lower this time, refusing to break his eyes away from Frank’s. “Everything that happened out there is the absolute last thing that I ever wanted to happen between us, especially the outcome of it all.”

Frank couldn’t keep up the locked gaze anymore, and his face fell forward until it faced the ground. He took long breaths as he stood there, Gerard’s hand still pressed to his face, trying to calm himself down from passing out. He had had countless dreams since leaving LA that Gerard would come racing after him, and now here he was, standing in front of him. And all that Frank wanted to do was throw up.

And somewhere amid the nausea and the overwhelming urge to run away, William’s words came back to him. ‘The best part about you, is that you’re no longer lost his shadow. You’ve got promise kid, you.’

He wanted to shove Gerard’s hands away. Perhaps throw a good punch to his jaw, push him back until he was a couple of feet away from his frame and not too close for comfort. He wanted to yell at him, scream at him every bit of hurt and frustration he had gone through the past few weeks. Show him the emotional scars he had developed from him, try his best to guilt trip him as best as he could so Gerard could feel hopefully even a sliver of what it was that he had gone through. He wanted to get any revenge that he could, he wanted to spit out every angry, hurtful thing he could think of to say. He wanted Gerard to cry, to physically show him that he hurt just as badly as Frank had.

And as his eyes grew darker with anger through his initial thoughts, to softening at the latter and William’s words repeating in his head, the thoughts calmed down, and Frank’s body relaxed against Gerard’s hands.

Lifting up his hands, he pressed them against the back of Gerard’s hands on his cheeks, his fingers curling around his familiar hands, gently bringing them down from his face.

Now it was Gerard’s time to hold the fear in his eyes. Frank’s hands held confidence.

“I’m losing you, aren’t I?” Gerard asked suddenly, his voice faint against the busy city traffic.

Frank tried to speak, but he had to look away and take a moment to take a deep breath, close his eyes and count to ten. His face instinctively turned towards the ground, and as he started to speak once more he stopped himself. Opening his eyes, he lifted his face and met Gerard’s eyes once more.

“I don’t want to be in your shadow anymore,” he said quietly, though his voice held a low undertone of confidence that he was hovering on the line of believing, and trying to fake until he believed it. “I want to find the life that I want. I’ve… I’ve got promise, you know.” By the end of the sentence his confidence had been slipping, and he was trying to speak as strongly to try and save as much face as he could.

Gerard didn’t know how to react to what Frank was saying. A month ago, he would have retaliated with remarks claiming Frank wasn’t in his shadow, that he had the life that he wanted; that he didn’t understand what Gerard was going through. And look where that had gotten them. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Gerard let out a slow exhale, breathing back in the cold New York weather. This wasn’t the conversation he had been expecting, it wasn’t the conversation that he wanted.

But quite frankly, and he could now admit this, it wasn’t about Gerard.

It was about Frank. It was about the seventeen year old boy standing in front of him. The boy with the fresh mohawk, the smudgy eyeliner, the changing emotions that flickered through his eyes, betraying the feelings that flowed through his body. The boy that was standing in front of him, trying to convince Gerard that he really had promise.

Watching Frank’s face, Gerard took a deep breath of his own. He knew there was no way that he could ask Frank to come back to him. Not after this. As much as he wanted Frank with him every day, to know that the boy was officially his one and only, he had to let him go. Asking him to stay would only be unfair to Frank. This life, the one he was building in New York, it was exactly what he needed right then. And that was hard for Gerard to admit, but he knew that he had to.

He could feel his breathing catch in his throat, and he had to struggle with more deep breaths in order to keep himself steady.

Now Gerard was the one getting emotional, and he was supposed to be the strong one.

“You’re right,” Gerard said slowly, “you’ve got a lot of promise Frank.”

Looking up at him when he spoke, Frank had to look away immediately as hot tears sprung to the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill down his cheeks. Gerard was all he had ever known, and at the end of it all, his approval and acceptance meant more to Frank than anything. Giving a soft sniffle, he lifted his arm and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. He was trying to convince Gerard that he was okay on his own, and he felt like he was failing miserably.

Stepping forward, Frank reached out tentatively. He slid his arms around Gerard’s waist, the familiar contact springing his memory of the way it had been when Gerard had always held him whenever he was upset, and the last few steps to Gerard were in a near rush as Frank literally threw himself at Gerard, pressing his face against his chest as the tears flooded his eyes, soaking through Gerard’s shirt to his skin.

Frank could stand there and claim he had promise all evening, and Gerard could agree and convince himself that what he needed to do was let him go. But Frank knew what the truth was.

“You know I’d always come back to you,” he mumbled softly against Gerard’s chest. Just loud enough for Gerard to hear, just loud enough for Gerard to know he hadn’t lost him forever.

Gerard’s arms had wrapped around Frank’s shoulders by this time, and when Frank’s words rose to his ears his arms tightened around him, his face tilting down to press against his mohawk as he took a deep, shaky breath. There was nothing that he could say to that, and he wouldn’t even try.

When Frank finally pulled away from Gerard, he sniffled one final time and kept his eyes adverted from him, lifting up a hand to wipe the eyeliner that had run down to pool just underneath his eyes. There was just nothing left to say. Anything more would be running around in the same circles they had been running around in for months. Accusing each other of he-said, he-said wouldn’t get them anywhere, and after everything that had happened and where they were pointed now, it just wasn’t feasible to welcome Gerard in with completely open arms, ready to pick back up where they were. Things had changed, but Frank didn’t see his world looking so glum anymore.

“I should go,” Gerard said softly, looking at Frank for a moment before down at his pants, wiping away an invisible loose thread.

Looking over at him, Frank gave a small nod. He really didn’t know when he was going to see Gerard again, and that thought alone brought along mixed emotions. “Okay,” he said, wiping underneath his eyelid and bringing his hand down to wipe it on his pants.

Reaching down to the ground where he had placed the camera bag, Gerard picked it up, turning back to hand it to Frank. “Merry Christmas,” he said, watching Frank’s hands as he reached out to take the bag after a moment of hesitation.

Frank’s face stayed down towards the bag in his hands as Gerard turned to walk towards the patio door. He had watched Gerard walk away before; he didn’t want to see him walk away again. Not opening the bag yet, just staring blankly at his fingers that were wrapped around the handles, Frank looked up when he heard Gerard call his name.

Gerard had stopped, his hand on the handle of the door, his back at first to Frank before turning to look over his shoulder at him. Pressing his lips together for a brief second, when he parted them his voice was softer. “I love you too.”

And with that being said, he turned back around, opened the door, and walked back in to the apartment heading for the front door.

Left on the balcony, Frank stood there in silence and a bit of shock as he watched Gerard say a few things to Pete before completely leaving the apartment. It took a moment for him to close his partially dropped jaw, and another to leave the spot he had froze in, moving slowly to sit back down in his chair. Setting the camera bag on the floor momentarily, he stared at the railing as he tried to roll over what Gerard had said in his mind.

Gerard had remembered. And he had finally said it back.

Looking down at the bag that rested between his feet on the ground, he reached down and opened the bag up a little more so he could see what lay inside. As his eyes ran over the title of the item on the box he cursed loudly, sitting back against the chair and looking around the city for a few moments as he tried to grasp everything that had just happened in the past five minutes in his head.

Frank wasn’t stupid. He had known the entire time that Gerard was the one paying for his camera equipment, and that it wasn’t Aunt Gina. And now to see the exact camera he had just been looking at, in a bag, purchased by Gerard clearly on the way to the apartment, well it showed that Gerard had actually genuinely thought about coming here to talk to him. He was attempting to do as Frank had asked, showing him instead of just telling him.

Slowly, a small smile started to stretch across his face. It quickly turned a bit bashful, before fading a bit as Frank got shy.

Looking up at the pitch black sky, Frank shook his head and gave a soft sigh as he stared at what he only hoped was some higher up, God perhaps, having a field day. “Are you enjoying this?” he asked. “Because, you know, I am not your fucking soap opera character!”