Frank hated work, and it was mainly because he hated knowing that Gerard would always be there with him, but he couldn't see him, or talk to him, but of course, if Gerard did indeed make himself visible, then Frank would most definitely find himself with an awful distraction and a very awkward situation in his pants.

It was just the contrast that really meant something though, because before all of this mess, Frank had taken pleasure in normality and the nine to five and the nothingness and how his life was very devoid of meaning, because that was what he'd needed.

But now, Frank couldn't hate the idea of that more, because he was deadset and certain in the belief that all he needed was the man beside him; the man he couldn't see right now, but the man that was most definitely there, and as Frank typed away at his computer, he couldn't help but smile to himself, keeping what he only knew as a secret close to his chest.

And, yes, of course, it was inevitable that Frank felt an awful lot like a mad man, and even went as far as to question himself sometimes, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to just get back to 'normal', whatever normal meant anymore, because Frank felt that not only did Gerard need him to feel real, but that the feeling was mutual.

And perhaps for Frank, it was just a little bit more metaphorical, but it remained just as real in his chest, and that was all that mattered, as his heart fluttered in his ribcage, screaming louder than his head could even imagine.

And Frank was even something like trapped away in his own little Gerard filled world at his desk, sleep deprivation making it easy to zone out every few seconds, and fall into a whole new plane of existence, that had nothing to do with the boring office job, and the meaningless words he was typing out onto his keyboard, well, the company's keyboard, in the company's building, because Frank didn't want to be homeless, and that was that.

However, the aforementioned bubble was soon broken, as the door slammed open, and Frank caught sight of a man, about his age, with short, blonde hair, and the kind of body that looked alien in a suit; this was his first kind of office thing, that was for sure, and Frank could read the fact that he was new off his fucking face.

However, he didn't appear as nervous as people tended to be, perhaps more bored, tired of this already, even though he'd barely even made it through the door, which both unnerved and intrigued Frank, and most definitely caught the attention of Gerard too, as the redhead had been leaning against Frank's cubicle and minding his own business, and staring at Frank's ass from time to time, because okay, who could blame him?

In fact, the whole room seemed to be captivated by the new guy, everyone getting to their feet to peer over the cubicles and watch as he finally made his way into the cubicle beside Frank's, which was already something Gerard wasn't particularly pleased about, because Gerard was a jealous bitch at best.

"Hey..." The guy finally addressed the room, gesturing awkwardly as he glanced around at the room, "I'm new... I'm Sam."

And as the room erupted into a chorus of greetings and conversation, Frank took the liberty of sitting the fuck back down again, because okay, new guy, interesting, but something they really had seen a thousand times before, as was everything in this cubicle, in this building, in this life, and in fact, Frank even began to feel a little sorry for Gerard who was just forced into watching time, and in turn, Frank's life tick by.

Frank had gotten over the weirdness factor of it, because it wasn't like the guy didn't seem him naked enough already, and was now more sympathetic than anything, because Frank he really wouldn't want to have been forced into observing every dull action of a guy who you dated ten years ago.

Or maybe that's just what you get for killing yourself, it seemed.

And Frank shook his head at the notion, turning back to his screen, ready to immerse himself back into the lovely and exciting, and of course, fun filled, world of Microsoft Excel - Frank's favourite computer program, of course, after MS Paint, because Frank reckoned he did actually spend all of his lunch break drawing shit, vaguely insulting, 'art' depicting the co-workers that he hadn't gotten on quite so well with.

However, he soon heard the sound of a swivel chair from the cubicle beside his, and eventually, a, "hey."

And Frank considered shooting himself in the face right there and then because this was the new guy, and he was going to be inexperienced, and this was going to be him asking for help, because he hadn't a fucking clue what he was doing, and Frank knew that, but still, he wasn't the least bit prepared for it.

"Yeah?" He let out a sigh, turning to face him, raising his eyebrows a little, as he did so.

"Yeah, uhh... I kind of don't know how to use excel-"

"How did you get this job then?" Frank hit him with it straight, because fuck it, and fuck being nice, and fuck it if he got in trouble for this, because Frank didn't genuinely give a shit anymore, and it really did seem like Gerard was having the time of his life, giggling to himself in the corner, because yes, now he'd decided to make himself visible.

Frank really hoped Gerard hadn't made himself visible to this guy as well, otherwise he reckoned his next question would be, 'are you aware there's a homeless guy with stupid hair sat in the corner of your cubicle?'

To which, Frank's response would of course be, 'yeah, so what, deal with it,' which wouldn't exactly have made the best impression, but neither did blatantly being snappy with him, but, fuck it.

"Well, let's say I'm better at lying than I am using excel." His face turned up into a grin.

"Right." Frank turned his face into a grimace, ready to just get the fuck back on with this, and continue to waste his life away, however, things were never going to be just that easy, were they?

"Hey, how about you teach me how to use excel, and I'll buy you a drink or something-"

And he didn't get that question out, before the filing cabinet in his cubicle miraculously fell over, going straight into his chair, and causing him to fall to the floor.

And, of course, a, "fuck you," and a giggle from a certain boyfriend that Frank wanted to kill on a more than casual basis.

-

"He said I pushed him!" Frank exclaimed, throwing his keys down against the kitchen counter with over exerted force.

"Well, that's not my fault - I didn't do anything, well, I didn't say anything, but-"

"Gerard, you fucking-" Frank shook his head in disbelief, pulling his shoes off as he did so, "why the fuck did you do that? Did you seriously think I was going to agree to go have a drink with him? Are you fucking stupid, Gerard, I knew you were there as well, for fuck's sake... I... why, seriously, just why?"

"And so what? I was supposed to just let him hit on you, because that was not going to happen- Frank, you're... my boyfriend, and I have to protect you... look, he's one of those assholes who don't give up once you say no, I could tell that, so I was helping you, everything I do is to help you, I mean that, Frankie, I really do-"

"I don't give a fuck what your intentions were, especially when it's me, not you that has to deal with the consequences- I could get fired, Gerard, we just have to see what kind of mood my boss is in when he calls me back, and I doubt it's going to be good-"

"So what?" Gerard shrugged, brushing his hair behind his ears. "You can get another job-"

"That's fucking harder than you think, Gerard, okay? You've fucked everything up now? The normal, the schedule, the regularity, the safety net, everything- you fucking- you. I hate that - that's always you, you don't do normal and you don't do regular and you drag everyone down with you. And I don't even think you know."

"I'm sorry, Frank, look, I was just trying to- I just wanted to keep him away from you, that's it, you know?" Gerard's voice took a calmer tone as he made his way to the sofa, sitting down and fading away a little as he did so, and no matter how worked up and angry Frank was, he couldn't bare that.

"Okay, look, Gerard, I knew, this isn't what you wanted to happen that's okay... I just... what the fuck do I do if I get fired, Gee?" Frank let out a sigh, leaning into Gerard's side as he did so.

"I'm sorry." Gerard muttered, putting an arm around Frank as he did so. "How do you think I could make it up to you?"

"Do you think you could maybe say that without looking at my dick quite so obviously?" Frank asked, his eyebrows raised a little.

"Well... I could, but I doubt you really want me to, you know..." Gerard's face turned up into a grin, "I really reckon I can guess just what you want, Frankie... you know?"

"And what would that be?" Frank asked, just testing Gerard now, because now wasn't really the best time to have Gerard's mouth around his cock, but the other half of Frank's head was wondering if there ever was a bad time to have Gerard's mouth around his cock.

"Oh, Frankie, I think you could figure that one out for yourself. You're a big boy now, older than me and all." Gerard leaned in, the 'massive slut' button in his head switching on. "I wanna suck your cock, Frankie, don't you want me to?" He reached for Frank's crotch, gasping a little as Frank couldn't help but lean into his touch.

"Fucking hell... I..." Frank leaned back, shaking his head in disbelief, "with all my fucking luck, my boss is going to call me back right when your mouth is wrapped around my cock-"

"And what would you do then?" Gerard's face lit up, getting up off the sofa, eager at Frank's mention of the notion of cocksucking, and kneeling at Frank's feet, his hands on the older man's thighs: all pretty eyes and the world's worst smirk.

"I... I... I'd have to answer it, god, Gerard, you're good at cocksucking, anyone can tell that, but, my job is kind of more important than either of us getting off-"

"Then if you pick up the call, I won't move, I'll pin you down, and keep going, and you've just got to act like a good boy, be all quiet and discreet. You reckon you could do that or am I just too good?"

"Gerard, you're just an asshole." Frank rolled his eyes, shrugging it off like it was the only thing he could think to do, and it kind of was. "I'm not doing that, and I'm not letting you..." Gerard pouted, seeming to be genuinely disheartened by this. "Maybe as a celebration if I don't get fired, but... I don't know... Gerard, seriously, you're all trouble and bad ideas, and I'm just trying not to fuck up my life anymore. I feel like I'm following you around, just picking up the pieces."

"I feel like I'm doing the very same for you..." Frank appeared skeptical, "oh come on, Frank, that guy was bad news, an asshole in every way and you want me to just let him flirt with you? That's ridiculous, that's absolutely fucking ridiculous, like okay, I can be jealous, but that's because I really care about you, but this isn't a matter of jealousy, it's a matter of me looking after you, like-"

"I'm older now, technically, I can look after myself, you know? I don't need you." And they both knew it was anything but true, but the impact was just as brutal nonetheless.

"You fucking do, and you know it." Gerard snapped, getting up, and pushing Frank back into the sofa. "You fucked up, everything went to shit for you without me because you 'couldn't cope', so don't try to fucking lie to me, Frank."

"Oh, like you've never fucking lied to me, because you're so fucking perfect, aren't you, Gerard? Go on, whine about how perfect and troubled you are, because when you were alive that's all you ever fucking did, you know?" Frank raised his voice, growing increasingly impatient and pissed off, but it wasn't as if he could be blamed.

"How was life for you in hospital, Frankie? Coping fine without me then, weren't you? Didn't need me at all, did you? Or what? Because that has to be the truth, because you'd never lie to me at all, as you said, would you?" Gerard shook his head, sitting beside Frank, but refusing to meet his gaze. "You know what? We've known each other more than ten years, but more often that not I feel like I don't know you at all, like you're a stranger or something?"

"Because what? You didn't expect me to change at all between the ages of eighteen and twenty eight?" Frank scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You needed me: that was what it was. You changed, you adapted because I wasn't there for you then, and I want you back now, because we're good... we're good again, and I just wish you'd listen to me, you know? I know you best, I care so much, you can trust me the most."

"I did listen to you..." Frank trailed off, biting his lip a little.

"What?"

"When you told me I didn't need the pills."

-

And Frank wasn't sure if it was pitch black or he'd simply neglected to open his eyes, because for some odd reason, it didn't feel like he was 'seeing' anything at all.

He moved, getting up and finding the ground below his feet, not wet, but cold, and damp, oddly moist, perhaps. Whatever the sensation was, it was bizarre.

And again, Frank tried to open his eyes, now even reaching his hands to his eyelids, and attempting to prise them open himself, but still, nothing.

Darkness, emptiness.

Nothing.

And Frank wasn't quite sure what to do, or where he was and what on earth he was doing here, and in fact, it was taken down to survival instincts as he began to run: one foot after the other, stumbling but somehow keeping upright and not colliding with anything or anyone.

Frank wondered if he was moving at all.

He began to reach out in front of him: his arms out, feeling for anything in his range, just something, fucking whatever, Frank could reach out and touch a spider for all he cared, he just wanted to know that was there was something more to this world than his bare feet and damp soil.

He wasn't quite sure as to why he hadn't resorted to speaking yet, in fact he wasn't even sure if he could, and he wasn't even sure if that mattered, he just knew that he needed to get something out, he needed to exist, he needed this all to be real, because it didn't feel like it at all, and as Frank's lips parted, the possibility of this being a dream finally seemed to smack him square in the face.

But he called out regardless.

"Hello? Anyone there?"

And as he waited in silence and nothingness, the possibility seemed to make all the more sense, and despite the lack of a response, Frank even seemed to smile into the darkness, content or something.

Then, before he knew quite what was happening: cold, fuck, so fucking cold, his skin tingling a little as what seemed to be snow collided with his arms, and without even thinking, Frank went to open his eyes, and perhaps even having a heart attack at what he found.

Jersey.

His hometown.

His road.

His house.

And it was snowing.

Frank had been eight; he knew that instantly. He could never forget the day it had snowed like this, and he almost found himself drowning the cold outside.

However, he was pretty certain that he was still twenty eight, and he stood a hell of a lot taller than an eight year old, not that Frank had really done much growing in his life, but, he was certain of it as he finally grew the courage to approach his house: leaving behind footprints that imprinted the snow for just a moment before fading away into nothingness.

It was peculiar, as was this all.

And as he approached his home, he noticed a boy: perhaps about twelve, slender and awkwardly tall, with dark hair and dark clothing making his way up the path.

Frank didn't recognise him at all, but as he turned to call out to the boy, his words made enough sound to cause the boy to turn, but he seemed to notice nothing, leaving Frank to wonder if his words had faded away as quickly as his footprints had.

It was then that he began to just watch the boy; he placed a letter through Frank's letterbox, his finger reaching up to the doorbell, but his whole body seeming to shake a little as he did so, he cursed aloud to himself, turning away, his boots imprinting the snow as he left the unexplained letter and the house behind him, before turning down the road, and seeming to fade away into the cold itself.

And Frank had stood there, frozen, unable to let it go, and indeed wondering if the boy had even been real at all.

And of course the obvious option was to open that letter, but he found himself rooted to the spot as his father's yelling became audible, and with squeezing his eyes shut, and focusing extra hard, the world around him seemed to disappear, his heart pounding in his chest and his breathing growing shallow and shaky, as he found his eyes forced open once again, this time filled not with black but an all too familiar shade of red.

A sigh, as he pulled away, "you had a dream again, didn't you?" Gerard shook his head, rolling over to his side of the bed, leaving Frank disorientated and extremely confused.

"Yeah... I... what's I...-"

"Your boss called back whilst you were asleep; he said he'd let you have your job back if you apologised to the dude... I said that was okay... I even told him thank you." Gerard grinned, seemingly excessively proud of himself for the aforementioned act of 'kindness'.

And as happy as Frank was supposed to be, he found himself unable to focus on anything besides the dream, still vivid in his mind.

-

hey pals!!! vote and comment on this chapter pls support me i am melting it's too hot i dont like this. i love you all as well and @WEATHER WHY I DON'T WANT TO MELT !!!