Never Coming Home // Frerard

Chapter 26

"We went to a bar," Mikey explained, his head down as if he was scared of looking at me. "And we got drunk, listened to the band that was playing, which was some whiny punk band, and then he asked if I wanted to go hang out at his place with him. Me being too drunk to put two and two together, I said yes. And then... we hooked up. It was just basically drunken sex, you know how that goes-"

"I don't, actually," I admitted. "I had one drunken affair with a bartender named Bert, and I was too drunk to remember anything, other than the epiphany that sex isn't my thing."

"Really? You never told me that," He laughed a little, his eyes finally meeting mine. "So, anyways, it didn't just feel like a drunken decision, you know? It felt like... Like lost feelings coming back to both of us at the same time."

"Do you love him?" I asked.

Mikey was silent. "I don't know."

"What's keeping you from knowing?"

"Fear. Fear of him, fear of being hurt by him, fear of falling for somebody else, fear of it not working out... fear of losing him again..."

"You'll figure it out," I smiled encouragingly. "And if he hurts you, my fist will go so far up his ass-"

"Gee. Gross."

"Sorry," I laughed.

"What do we tell Mom?" He asked as a new worry took over his mind.

"I'll just say you were spending the night at Ray's and you lost your phone at his house for a little while," I replied, standing up and walking into our mom's room.

"Thanks, Gee," He smiled gratefully.

~

A few days later, I drove Frank to his house from the cemetery on a particularly cold night.

"You wanna come in for some coffee?" Frank asked me as I pulled the car into his driveway.

"Yeah, sure," I smiled. He leaned over the center console and quickly kissed me before climbing out of the car.

I followed him inside, observing all of the familiar catholic symbolism that decorated his living room.

Frank led me into the kitchen and reached up to the cabinet above him, pulling out two blue coffee mugs.

"Where have you been?" Frank's mom asked, startling us both. She stood in the kitchen with her arms crossed.

"I've just been out with Gerard," He answered simply.

"A word, please," She gestured for him to follow her, which he did, flashing an unsure grin before leaving me alone in the kitchen.

I know eavesdropping is horrible and you shouldn't do it, but I couldn't fucking help myself, okay?

"Are you having sex with him?" I heard his mother's hushed, stern voice.

"Am I what?" Frank laughed. I found myself suppressing a giggle, as well.

Sex?

Ew. No thanks.

"Are you having sex with him?" She asked again, her voice strained with frustration.

"No, mom. Why would you even ask that?"

"Well, I can tell you two aren't just friends," She spat.

"Okay, yeah, we're dating, or whatever, but Gee doesn't do sex."

"After all these years," Frank's mom sighed. "All of these years telling you not to be gay, and you go ahead and do it anyways. Why would you choose such a horrific lifestyle?"

"Why don't you just accept me?" His voice grew sad.

"Would you ask me to 'accept' you if you were a serial killer?"

"I'm not a serial killer, I'm pansexual. There's a difference. Don't compare them."

"God, what am I going to tell the women at church?"

"That, I don't know, you're proud of me? Have you ever tried that?"

"Well, how can I be proud of you, Frank? You're gay, or whatever, you have mediocre grades, and you spend all of your time writing mopey music and hanging out with that strange boy."

"You don't even fucking try, though!" Frank raised his voice. "You've always looked for something to bitch about!"

"I'm not bitching about you, Frank! Don't you get it? I'm trying to keep you from going down the wrong path."

"I'm going to hell anyways, Mom. We all go to hell, if it even exists."

"Don't you dare speak like that in my house," She said in a low, boiling tone.

"You know, when you found me in my room, surrounded by blood, dying, and you muttered 'why?' to yourself over and over as you tried to find the cut, did you ever think that maybe it was your shitty parenting skills? Did you ever think that I reached a point that low because you rejected me and bitched about me from the time I was three?"

A sound that I could tell was Frank being slapped by his mom rang through the living room, followed be deafening silence.

"It's either him or me," She growled. "If you stay with him, then good fucking luck finding someone who'll house a pathetic queer like you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey hey heyyyyy don't hate me

Tbh I have more homework than I have friends

~XoChase