Frank had never been any good when it came to apologies: after all, apologetic blowjobs were far more his style, as opposed to sentimental speeches and carefully chosen bouquets of flowers, but still, he found himself trying.

Even if trying had resulted in him getting on his knees anyway, because to hell with it, Frank kind of liked it like that, and this was just a small kind of thing: just something that'd give him the cash to get the kind of alcohol that could possibly give him the balls to actually go through with this.

Frank liked to think he was gutsy, but really, he was a coward as soon as he stepped out the bedroom and his ego began to fade away: he cared an awful lot about his ego, it being his pride and joy, but Gerard was his boyfriend, or at least had been, and somehow Frank had gotten to the stage of character development where that actually began to mean something to him at all.

He knew he shouldn't have freaked out like he had, and he knew that this was all his own fault, but still, he couldn't help but find himself sat with a cigarette on the balcony of another man's apartment as he came to reconsider every decision he'd ever made in his life: regardless if they involved Gerard or not.

Frank didn't even know what had been there with Gerard that just hadn't been with the hundreds of other people Frank had slept with, but the thoughts of self discovery that didn't involve getting his dick out made Frank's head ache like fuck, and he decided that staring out at the skyline and the grey clouds covering the bright oranges of sunset - possibility, chance, hope, and then reality pulling it back into the shades of grey, and really, there had to be at least fifty of them in the sky.

Frank couldn't help but think of himself as the grey, and of Gerard as the bright orange: the one there was hope for - the talented, the artist, the one who could get out of this hellhole of a town, and Frank, the grey, not Gandalf the grey, but as the lowlife not quite boyfriend holding him back.

Frank wondered just what this cigarette had been spiked with to cause him to view everything as fucking metaphor: now he was acting like an English teacher or an overrated teen novel about kids with cancer, or perhaps both, or perhaps neither and Frank was just actually going crazy here.

"You alright there? You want a drink or something- no offense, but you look like you need a drink." This wasn't a regular client of Frank's, but he was soon proving to be an awfully nice guy, and Frank was almost honoured to have sucked his dick, because well... Frank met a lot of assholes around here.

"You're right." Frank let out a sigh, pealing his gaze away from the sunset and sitting back in the chair to the left side of the balcony.

The client that Frank hadn't quite caught the name of passed him a can of beer as he took the chair on the right side of the balcony, and since the balcony itself was no bigger than a couple of metres across, they could quite easily converse from the chairs at either side.

"I never caught your name." Frank added, cracking open the can and taking a swig that Pete Wentz himself would be proud of.

"Brendon." The guy, Brendon, answered him with little hesitation, and making it evident that he was in fact the nicest guy in this whole town by the fact that he was more than happy to converse with a prostitute like they were just a normal person. "I'm assuming Iero isn't your first name."

"Frank." He put the can of beer down at his feet, and took another drag of his cigarette. "Frank Iero. You know, this whole conversation thing isn't something that usually happens with clients."

"What? Do you want me to pay you to talk to me-" 

"God, no- I..." Frank trailed off, exhaling just a little too loudly. "I'm pleasantly surprised, and I'm being to think that you are in fact the nicest person I've ever met."

"And you're the nicest, and only prostitute I've ever met." Brendon tried his best to return the compliment, but ended up with looking a little bit like an idiot as he did so.

"Thought so." Frank bit his lip as he considered actually trying to discuss his problems with the guy, because well, Frank needed some form of evidence that wasn't almost painfully strewn from the sarcasm poisoned lips of Lindsey Ballato. "C-Can I ask you about something- this isn't something I’d usually do, but I need some advice...?"

Brendon paused for a moment. "Sure." He was awkwardly tentative, and Frank was just a little unsure as to whether he was supposed to continue now, but he ended up shrugging it off and continuing regardless.

"I broke up with my boyfriend... well he broke up with me, and it was my fault entirely: I was being an asshole, and we were both kind of overreacting and everything just got blown out of proportion, and well... I want to apologise and I want him back, and I'm not exactly sure I know how to do that without severely fucking up again."

"Sucking some guy's dick instead of apologising to your boyfriend was a bad move in the first place." Brendon was going to be blunt here, and well, Frank kind of needed that right now. "But, he's either going to take you back or he's not: there's no point pushing it, or it's just going to fuck up again, so just tell him the truth, apologise and tell him how you feel, and if he accepts, then great, don't fuck up again, and if he doesn't, then, well that's a lesson learned - don't be an asshole."

"But I'm scared... I'm scared of him saying no... I k-kind... k-kind of love him, I guess, I'm not a relationships and love kind of person, but, he's different: I don't know how and I don't know why, but he is."

"You're definitely in love with him." Brendon chuckled a little at that, finishing his beer. "That's me and my ex-boyfriend... still in love with him, I guess, but... it's fine."

"You don't sound very fine." Frank couldn't help but comment, even though he knew this was the kind of thing that he'd most certainly get punched in the face for.

"Turned out he'd been cheating on me for a few months now, and well, that sucks, so... but, fuck, I still love him and it's killing me- I hope you didn't cheat on your boyfriend... I-"

"I didn't." Frank cut Brendon off before he started crying or punched Frank in the face: either was just as likely right now. "It was do with his brother and his brother's coke addiction and then an argument and-"

"Coca Cola?"

"Cocaine."

"Oh..." Brendon let out a sigh. "I'm not used to this: hookers and cocaine... I'm really not- I- I don't even know why I hired you tonight... I just... my dick was lonely and it needed some company, I felt kind of self-conscious even, like my dick I-"

"Your dick is bigger than your forehead, I promise you, there's no need to be self-conscious about it."

"Thanks." Brendon smiled oddly at Frank, and just like that, there was something inside Frank that couldn't help but feel as if he'd be seeing Brendon again.

-

Gerard lay sat upon his apartment floor for far too long after Bert had left.

Nothing had changed, not really, but it had: Gerard felt worlds away from the version of him who was crying over Frank walking out and this was character development in someway, but for better or for worse, he couldn't yet quite figure out.

Gerard had lost his clothes on the bedroom floor, and sat naked with a small bag of pills beside him, and he twitched a little as his eyes met them, because maybe this could all be fixed with a few pills: in Gerard's mind, most things could be fixed with a few pills, but somehow, this felt different, this felt real.

1And maybe that was because Gerard actually cared about Frank and how he felt about the twenty four year old was more than real, to say the least, but still, he'd found himself sat naked upon his apartment floor: clothes strewn across the bedroom: the sheets smelling of another man.

But it wasn't as if Gerard had said no.

Gerard had never said no, Gerard had never objected, Gerard hadn't entirely enjoyed it, but Gerard was far too high to really process anything right now: it didn't quite feel real, and without the physical reminders of it, Gerard reckoned he would have forgotten about it entirely by now, and maybe, just maybe that would have been for the better.

But he knew different: from the lies on his lips waiting to be told, to the smell on the sheets that told the whole story, Gerard knew that there was no possible positive to this situation, and at least he could bask in his guilt and misery until Frank came home, and well, Frank was stubborn as hell, so he might as well just sit here forever.

Gerard quite liked the sound of that, even if it was fucked up, because, hey, Gerard was fucked up, and there was absolutely no way around a truth as blatant as that.

He opened the bag of pills.

It was inevitable, and the waiting game was growing dull.

He placed one on his tongue, swallowing it dry, and expertly so, because Gerard had had some swallowing practice earlier on, and well, his technique was spot on, to say the least.

They tasted weird, and made his head ache a little, and honestly, Gerard hadn't the slightest clue as to their contents, but fuck it, he didn't care, he'd fucked up already and was beyond caring at this point: his head was spinning now, but still, Gerard Way couldn't quite bring himself to care.

Bert wasn't bad, after all.

Neither as a person or in bed.

His morals and intentions were just slightly askew, and that was forgivable, wasn't it? AT least Gerard thought so, and maybe he was an idiot for it, but the pills had made everything far too numb for him to even fathom giving one single fuck.

He kind of liked this numbness anyway: it was peaceful, calming, and it was something he could count and rely on.

But as the front door slammed open: unlocked, and pathetically so - Gerard was vulnerable, and well goddamn naked, and he knew it, but still he remained still and frozen as the front door was slammed shut and footsteps echoed throughout the flat as they made their way to the bedroom door, and then with a creak and a twist of the handle, light from the window in the next room streamed into the dimly lit bedroom, as the intruder made their way inside.

Gerard jumped a little as the dimmer switch on the light was turned up to full, and his gaze fell upon the face of the man before him: it wasn't someone he recognised.

And now was entirely too late to get shy about being naked.

"You're not Frank." The voice was slightly nasally and rather snappy: impatient, and not exactly happy to find this naked, drugged up emo on the apartment floor. "Where's Frank?"

"I-I-... I don't know- w-who are you?" Gerard stuttered out, grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around himself as the man rolled his eyes.

"It's none of your business, and I could ask you very much the same question." The man countered, pausing a moment before repeating his first question. "Where's Frank?"

"I told you." Gerard stood up, stumbling a little as he did so, but with the blanket still wrapped around him. "I don't know."

"Okay then." The man was unconvinced, but gestured for Gerard to step forward. "Come into the main room."

"Why are you in my apartment?" Gerard asked: his voice meek and quivering in places, and well, that made the man stop in his tracks.

"This is your apartment?" He asked, his eyebrows rising a little.

"Yeah... I wasn't that... obvious...?" Gerard stuttered out, his cheeks flushing a horrible shade of red.

"Well, you did look an awful lot like some trashy whore like that on the floor. You're a pretty trashy whore, though, which is a shame because I don't like you anymore." The man grabbed Gerard by the wrist and pulled him out into the main room of the apartment.

"Why not?" Gerard asked, his heart thudding in his chest as the man pushed Gerard into a chair.

"Because this is your apartment: Frank was staying here, and don't you dare lie... you were hiding him from me, weren't you?" And with that, the man reached to his coat pocket, and all too casually, pulled out a pistol. He didn't aim it at Gerard, but turned the safety off and held it in his hand - just to let Gerard know that it was there.

"I- I-I..." And then it clicked: this was who Frank was hiding from, and he'd finally found him, just when Frank happened to be out, and Gerard wasn't at all sure as to whether that was for better or for worse.

"Come on, don't be a naughty boy now, and tell daddy the truth." Gerard's cheeks blushed a very prominent shade of red at a sentence that much rather belonged in porn as opposed to well, whatever the fuck this was. "Oh we both know that you're a dirty little whore, sat naked on the bedroom floor - it fucking smelled of sex. Such a shame that little Frank had to run off after fucking you, now wasn't it?"

"He didn't- I- he's been gone a while-" Gerard choked out, his cheeks still a horrible shade of red.

"Oh, so you are a naughty little boy... getting fucked by other men? Honestly... you should be punished for that... such a shame I'm interested in Frankie, and not you, isn't it? But I guess I could make an exception- tell me your name, how about that?"

"I..I..." Gerard wanted to run, but the gun was still very visible in the man's hand. "I don't- please don't."

"It's just a name." The man shrugged it off, switching the safety back on his gun. "Just a name. It's clear what's happened here: Frank's left you like he's left me, and you're confused, and so was I. Has he told you the full story?"

Gerard shook his head hesitantly, but he shook his head nonetheless. 

"Thought so." The man took a seat on the chair beside Gerard. "Tell me your name and I tell you everything, because you deserve to know: you care about him, and you deserve to know the truth and what he's really like."

"I'm G-Gerard." And Gerard knew he'd regret this like he knew this guy was an asshole, but still, the words seemed to tumble from his lips with little regard for the consequences that would follow.

"Pretty name for a pretty boy." The man's face contorted into something that almost resembled a smile.

"A-and who are you?" Gerard stumbled out, just wanting an answer, just wanting a name, just wanting one thing that made the slightest bit of sense whatsoever, because right now, he was nothing but clueless.

"That doesn't matter, sweetheart, now come on. I met Frank a long time ago now... he was my little whore for a bit, and then maybe it was something more for a while, but he kept whoring himself up for other people... I didn't like that... who would, but I was angry, as I should have been, and well he started denying that all, he started liking being other people's whore more than he liked being mine, and well, I looked after him, I let him live with me, I gave him money to support himself... and there was kind of something there... and then there was you, I guess. And it's not your fault, it's not mine, it's his, and I know you want to defend him: he's good with sucking up to people, and well sucking dick - you shouldn't blame yourself."

"I wasn't angry that he slept with other people while we were dating, because well, that's his job, he's a prostitute, despite how little he wants to admit it... that's who he is, and I'm an artist, who thought he was cute and he was my neighbour and he was always too loud and it was just chance that we met, and then things happened and we fucked, and... he's good in bed - everyone knows that, but... I don't know what's happening now, because I think there's this other guy called Pete, and I wouldn't be wrong to suspect that Frank's with him now."

"Wentz?" The man raised his eyebrows, clearly having not expected Pete Wentz's name to come up in this conversation. Gerard nodded in response, eyes widening a little as he did so. "Wentz's nothing: he's a 'gang leader' but he's the guy in charge of a bunch of drunken pussies that beat up people sometimes. He has his vices, though, and Frank's one of them."

"I met him and he was drunk the whole time, and he kept flirting with Frank really obviously, and- fuck what am I saying?" Gerard didn't know just when he'd began to agree with the man who his boyfriend was running from- ex-boyfriend. When Frank had become his ex-boyfriend: that was when.

"I could take Wentz out effortlessly, but I don't think Frank's worth it, not anymore. I mean, I have you... pretty little you - what else could I want?" The man finally pocketed his gun.

"Y-You have m-me?" Gerard stuttered out, not exactly expecting that, but he didn't quite know how to decline, or even if he wanted to for that matter.

"What do you think about that, sugar? You're pretty, and you're all alone, and we've both been fucked over by Iero: we have a lot in common." Gerard was unconvinced, but the man made it clear that he was more than just a little persistent. "I don't mean to hurt you, I came on strong, I came on like a prick, I came on like him, but I thought you were still his boyfriend, still on his side, and that he hadn't done the same to you that he'd done to me. Believe me when I tell you this, Gerard, that we're alike, you and I."

"I'm sat naked in my apartment and some strange man is asking me-"

"Look, you're in a mess right here: you can get dressed, have a shower, whatever, and I'll take you back to mine, get you away from where he can find you, where he can fuck with your head again. I'll keep you safe, not like he pretends to: I care, you know I do - I would have shot you by now, wouldn't I, if I didn't?"

And Gerard had to admit to himself that he had a point.

"But I don't even know your name..." Gerard finally piped up, his eyes glassy and widened a little: considering it far more than he'd care to admit, because there was just something about this guy that there'd never been with Frank - he couldn't quite place it, but there was a certain sincerity behind his words, than even despite the circumstance, and Gerard’s feelings, left the artist inclined to believe that he was right about the boy he'd loved for the past few months.

"It matters now, I guess." The man stood up, reaching out for Gerard to grab his hand, as he ushered the twenty eight year old back towards his bedroom so he could get dressed again, because well, it would look an awful lot like some sort of human trafficking if he dragged Gerard out of here whilst he was naked.

"The name's Toro. Ray Toro."

-

laughs laughs laughs laughs. but seriously there's some plot finally be thankful of that at the very least. votes and comments would be cool:)))) i love you all lots and stuff<3