For the course of the last few days, Frank Iero's apartment had remained entirely devoid of any signs of life whatsoever: clients, Gerard, the bacteria that had long ago taken residence in the corners and never-dusted spots in the apartment, and not even Frank himself.

His clients had been the most concerned, knowing that someone like Frank Iero always answered his phone, especially when he knew that he could make money from it - in Frank's word, everything was about money. But of course, clients were just clients and when they came to find that the services they sought after weren't being provided to them, they simply moved along.

And perhaps that was okay.

Perhaps that even should have been the twenty four year old's intentions, as after all, the man who had pretty much become his boss as of recent: the guy from the parking lot - his title was more important than his name. 

Fucking CEOs.

But then again, that was pretty much Frank's job description: fucking stubborn, self-centred, sociopathic, pathologic liars in denial of their sexuality with just quite a lot of cash to spend and the right connections in order to find themselves placing hundreds of dollar bills into Frank Iero's hands.

But of course, this guy was more than a little attached, having decided that Frank wasn't just a whore, but his whore, which really wasn't something that Frank's job description allowed him to work with.

It was Gerard that was the main issue though, and still even with that knowledge, it was none other than Gerard Way's living room that Frank found himself sat in instead of his own. Well, in afterthought, it wasn't really all that much of a living room: Gerard's flat consisted of a bedroom, a bathroom, and then everything else and with just about one working door for the whole place, and a front door that didn't even seem to be aware of what locking was.

This was a bad idea and Frank was an idiot, but Frank was a guilty idiot and the black eye that the twenty eight year old wore with absolutely no intentions of hiding continuously served as a reminder of such.

Because it was his fault: there was absolutely no way around that, and he would have to make up for it: again, there was no way around that, but Frank was struggling to put his words into practice, and instead of actually doing something that any sane person would do, such as, listening to the guy that had already demonstrated that he could and would ruin Frank's entire life if need be, and just leaving Gerard alone - hell, Gerard would probably even thank him for it.

But, of course, this could never be quite that simple, and it was none other than the fault of the chemicals in Frank's brain that he was sat almost awkwardly upon the artist's sofa, forcing slightly out of date cereal down his throat, and with his job, you would think that Frank Iero would be good at forcing things down his throat, but, it seemed quite the contrary, or really, maybe it was just the fact that he tended to deep throat cocks and not cereal.

"Frank, are you sure you're alright?" Gerard spoke up into the prolonged silence, catching Frank's attention and almost causing the twenty four year old to choke on his cereal. "It's like two days and you still haven't said anything about why you're here, and when you drift off into space: unfocused and lost in your own head, you just look you're scared, you look you're hiding Frank, and I'm scared too."

"Don't be." Frank sighed out, watching as Gerard made his way over to the sofa, sitting beside his newfound flatmate. "I'm fine, Gerard, look I would have told you if I wasn't." Frank placed the half-eaten cereal bowl onto the coffee table having given up on it entirely.

"But you have." Gerard sighed out, leaning into Frank's side, and taking advantage of the fact that the twenty four year old was just too tired to protest. "Not verbally, of course. You'd never make it that easy. But your body language, your gestures, the way you act, Frank, they say a lot, especially when I know you as well as I do."

"Oh dream on, Gerard, you hardly know me at all." Frank laughed it off, moving his body a little to accommodate Gerard more comfortably.

"You haven't asked me to have sex yet. You haven't had sex in the past two days, and you're you: something's up and quite clearly so." Gerard sighed out, his gaze fixated upon the one window in his apartment, the balcony and the stony grey skies beyond: factory fumes and pollution, headaches and lung cancer - that was all you got here, and just maybe, Frank was far too complacent with that.

"Maybe I just don't want to. Have you ever even considered that?" Frank shrugged off Gerard's comment with yet more lies: Gerard was fucking right, of course he was, and of course, he had to be, but no matter just how right he was, he was still nowhere near closer to getting Frank to actually admit a single thing.

Frank couldn't make the mistake of letting his guard down again, even not in front of Gerard, who, although Frank daren’t admit it, mattered one awful hell of a lot to him. 

"Frank, you always want to." Gerard exclaimed, laughing a little as he did so, and Frank gave him a little shove in response: light-hearted and meaningless, of course. "You have more sex in a week than I have had, and most likely ever will have in my life time.

"I could change that." Frank mused: thoughts spoken aloud and something Gerard had grown used to over the past few days - it was better than when Frank left his subconscious caged up inside him, slowly tearing away at every last shred of sanity in him.

"You could." Gerard added, smiling, just a little: this wasn't the time, although it could be, but there was just something about sitting here and just talking - there was just something about Frank's presence that Gerard had grown to adore. It was lovesick and fucking stupid, but there was no way around it, and he'd settled with deeming acceptance to be the only logical course of action.

"Not now." Frank sighed out, pulling Gerard closer to him: a subconscious gesture, but not one that his conscious mind made any effort to cover or undo.

"Not now." Gerard agreed, mumbling words into Frank's side - he smelt like cigarettes, and somehow, that was comforting. "You should tell me what's wrong though." The artist added after a moment or two of reflection. 

"Not now." Frank repeated, leaning into Gerard a little, leaving the artist to move so Frank was practically sat on Gerard's lap at this point.

"Why not?" Gerard sighed out, playing with Frank's hair, twirling it around his fingers and leaving Frank to whinge and pretend that he cared so much more than he actually did.

"Just because." Frank left his response vague, and as the artist continued in silence, waiting for an expansion upon his response, Frank let out a sigh and another, "just because."

"Just because what, Frank?" Gerard continued, knowing that he was being more than annoying at this point, but he just couldn't bring himself to care, because Frank was important and what was bothering him was far more important than just how pissed off at him Frank would be for about the next ten minutes.

This time, the twenty four year old only shrugged in response, grabbing the packet of cigarettes from the coffee table: Gerard's, but it didn't really matter anymore, or at least, Frank was going to exploit Gerard's cigarettes until it did matter.

"Come on, tell me." Gerard added, watching as the twenty four year old lit the cigarette between his lips and moved to place the packet back on the table, only for Gerard to stop him. "If you're going to keep stealing my cigarettes, light me one too, at the very least."

Frank chuckled a little at that, and Gerard struggled to tell himself that it wasn't cute, and that Frank Iero wasn't the cutest fucking piece of shit that he'd ever laid his eyes upon: needless to say, he soon found he couldn't manage it, and gave up within seconds. 

"Fine." Frank rolled his eyes, turning a little in Gerard's lap so that he was practically straddling him now, and reaching up to place the cigarette between Gerard's lips, biting his lip as he lit it, blushing as Gerard caught his gaze, and goddamn, Frank needed to stop blushing, especially in front of Gerard Way, but there was just something about the artist that left him utterly fucking helpless.

"Thanks." Gerard grinned, taking a drag of his cigarette, as Frank placed the packet back on the coffee table, finally removing his own cigarette from his lips and letting it hang loosely between his fingers. "I think the fact that I'm letting you smoke my cigarettes out of the kindness of my heart should convince you to just give me the slightest hint as to what's going on, and why you're here, and why you're acting different: all cuddling and domestic shit, not whoring yourself about and calling me an asshole every five minutes."

"It's complicated." Frank shrugged it off, going with the first excuse he could think of and simply hoping for the best, but as he really just should have expected, it didn't go exactly to plan.

"So? I'm complicated, Frank, you're complicated, we're complicated - the whole world is fucking complicated, come on. Look, I just want to know because, believe it or not - I actually care about you, Iero." Gerard shook his head, wondering if he'd ever receive any form of response on Frank's behalf, or whether they were doomed to say on this shitty, dying sofa, smoking themselves to death forever.

"This is to do with why you got beat up and why someone tried to like poison me." Frank began, watching as Gerard nodded, perhaps just a little too eagerly for him to continue. "Basically, this fucking psycho guy that thinks he owns me really doesn't like the fact that we kissed last week when we went to see Mikey, but he's like my highest paying client and he knows, he fucking knows that basically he controls whether I'm homeless or not, and he wants to keep me all to himself, and it's just fucked up, Gerard, because I am scared, I'm so fucking scared. I shouldn't be here: he'll hurt you too if he finds me here, but fuck, I'm scared, and I need you, fuck, Gerard, I'm such a fucking coward but-"

Gerard cut him off right there with a kiss to his lips: short, chaste, and kind of smoky - cigarette smoke that is, and not like smoking hot, or well, barbeque smoke or... chimney smoke, or something.

"Can't you fucking do something about this? Like, I don't know, call the police on him?" Gerard asked, eyes widening in concern for the twenty four year old, and really, this was never supposed to happen: Gerard was never supposed to care, and more importantly, Frank was never supposed to care in return.

"Yeah, because the police are really going to like the fact that I'm a prostitute, aren't they?" Frank rolled his eyes, moving so he was spread out across the sofa again, with only his head in Gerard's lap.

"That's fucked up." Gerard shook his head, brushing Frank's hair from his face as the twenty four year old only shrugged in response.

"That's life."

"Still." Gerard sighed, throwing his gaze up against the ceiling, and biting down his lip in his best efforts as to not admit that now he was more than just a little bit scared too. "Do you think he'll just give up, after a while, I mean?"

"Could do." Frank shrugged: eyes wide and his gaze almost vacant. "But who knows? I don't want to risk it, I'll just stay on the down low for a few weeks, I guess, and just hope for the best."

"And are you assuming that those few weeks are ones that you're going to spend in my apartment?" Gerard asked, eyebrows rising as Frank's cheeks fell victim to the world's most embarrassing blush.

"I-I-I..."

"It's fine." Gerard sighed out, meeting Frank's gaze. "I like having you here. I like you, Frank."

"Still, I feel bad, now. I mean, I'm not even paying rent or anything - I'm just abusing your hospitality. I'm not making this at all worthwhile on your part, and I feel like I should, I want to."

"Well, then, I'm pretty sure someone like you knows how to make something worthwhile, huh?" Gerard's face broke way to a smirk: one that the younger shared.

"Oh, yeah, I really do."

-

And that was exactly how Gerard Way and Frank Iero had ended up in the artist's bedroom.

Of course, just what they were doing in there was an entirely different matter altogether, but one of a rather obvious nature: loud, passionate, and just a little violent - they were playing Cards Against Humanity.

Of course, don't be ridiculous.

And Gerard was especially disgruntled to discover that Frank was abnormally good at Cards Against Humanity, but then again, it was Frank Iero - he had a natural and unquestioned talent when it came to anything even vaguely involving a bedroom of some kind.

He also seemed to be really good at nearly dying, but it seemed that quite a lot of people were these day - weird, huh?

"You're good at everything and cute as hell - I hate you, Frank Iero, I really do." Gerard sighed out, after just having lost for like the third time, and having given up pretty much entirely by this point.

"You don't sound all convincing, just saying." Frank added, looking up at the artist as he packed the cards, which Gerard just so casually had in his closet, away. "But, I can assure you that there are a multitude of things which I am absolutely terrible at."

"Such as?" Gerard asked: eyebrows raised - utterly unconvinced.

"Not falling for you." And it was cheesy as fuck, and Gerard maybe would have slapped Frank across the face for it, if it didn't instantly melt his insides, rendering him nothing but a bundle of happiness, and god, that was weird: happiness wasn't something he was entirely accustomed to, especially the kind of happiness that went deep, and actually had physical repercussions, not just the smile on your face at a birthday party.

"You're also terrible at nothing being a fucking pathetic motherfucker by the looks of it, then." Gerard added with raised eyebrows, but the world's biggest grin on his lips, because there was no way he could deny the fact that Frank Iero made him feel special, made him feel happy, made him feel okay.

Because he did.

And god, it was fucking weird, fucking wrong, fucking messed up, but dear god, he'd never change it for the world.

"Yeah, I am." Frank finally added, just smiling at Gerard: smiling like he meant it, really, and that was a first. "But you are too, come on, face it."

"Yeah." Gerard leaned into the twenty four year old's side: the two now laid back on Gerard's bed - eyes moving in fast succession between the questionable, yet impressive paint stains on Gerard's ceiling, and one another. "I am, but it's okay. You make it okay, you make me feel okay."

"I don't think anyone's ever said that to me before." Frank admitted, grabbing Gerard's hand, like it was normal and like they were normal, and like he didn't have to worry about anything at all - not even reality itself. "There's probably good reason for that, but whatever, it made me smile, it made me feel okay too."

"You're perfect, you know that, don't you, Frank?" Gerard finally sighed out into the silence that Frank's confession brought: an okay kind of silence, everything was just that - okay, and complacent. The world had seemed to slow down and reality had seemed to fade away for a while just for the two of them, and maybe that was what falling in love felt like: well, it was either that or the pills Frank had downed by the dozen - he couldn't quite figure it out yet.

"Don't fucking lie to me, Gerard Way." Frank laughed that one off, rolling his eyes, and letting his gaze drift over to the cabinet in the corner of the room and the way that the door didn't even close properly, and how Gerard deserved so much more than this shitty ass apartment in this shitty ass neighbourhood in this shitty ass city and this shitty ass not quite boyfriend.

Gerard Way deserved the world, and Frank knew that one day he'd be able to get it.

But the question was in whether he'd leave Frank Iero behind for it, because maybe, just maybe, in the end it'd be down to the person that meant the world or the world itself.

"I'm not lying." Gerard's reaction was delayed but it no way less truthful, in fact more so, perhaps, as he'd spend the silence buried six feet deep in his own thoughts. "I wouldn't lie to you - I can promise you that."

"And what do promises really mean?" Frank asked - eyes anywhere but Gerard; it wasn't conflict, not really, just disruption and questioning - unpleasant, yet necessary, and downright unavoidable.

"Whatever you want them to." Gerard added, his words scattered lampposts on a street of empty sighs. "I promise you that I mean every word I ever say to you, Frank, and it's just up to you as to what you make of that."

"Your pretentious artist assholes vibes are rubbing off on me, huh?" Frank let out a giggle, and just like that, a trance seemed to be broken, and everything resided in what was really between the two of them: less about the content of the words and more about what they really meant.

Less about what they actually said, and more about what they didn't.

"Not the only thing that's rubbing off on me really, is it?" Gerard smirked, receiving a gentle shove from the twenty four year old for that comment.

"Yeah, seems like my fucked up sense of humour is too." Frank rolled his eyes, turning away from the artist in mock disapproval, but with Gerard's arms around his waist, he was soon brought back: Gerard Way was Frank Iero's weakness, whatever.

"I wasn't making jokes, Iero." Gerard clarified, smirking a little as he heard the little gasp Frank barely managed to keep down his throat. "Do you want to fuck me again?"

"Do you really need to ask? Is that really a question? Look at me, you fucking asshole, and look at you, and look at us, and just appreciate how good it feels to fuck that pretty little butt of yours."

It soon became apparent, of course, that the pretentious artist asshole vibes were by no means permanent, and maybe, just maybe, that didn't matter at all.

Gerard loved Frank for who he was and not what he said, not really: pretentious asshole, or wanting to put his dick in Gerard's asshole.

"Okay." Gerard exhaled loudly - too loudly almost, but who was to be the judge of that, really. "Fuck me, Iero. Make it good."

"I always do."

"I know."

-

hey guys:) this chapter features the biggest cockblock ever i know but i couldn't stop myself i stg i can't be trusted to take myself seriously okay:') maybe the next chapter will make up for it;) votes and comments would be lovely as well:))) Love you all<3