Summertime (Frerard)

31: I Think That We All Do

"Frankie..." Gerard murmured into the darkness of his bedroom, the sheets twisting around him as he stumbled over to where I sat on the edge of the mattress acting far too much like a concerned and slightly disappointed parent. If the situation were different then perhaps my demeanour would have been laughable perhaps.

Gerard finally managed to pull free from the sheet restraints and ended up flopping against me, his head falling into my lap and a childish giggle erupted from his lips; he clearly wasn't quite sober enough yet. Perhaps I didn't mind all that much, because as curious as I was, this was still a conversation I was scared of, one I didn't want to put myself at risk by having.

I brushed his hair from his eyes and his hand reached up to grab mine, I of course didn't object and allowed his fingers to tighten around mine.

"Hey..." I whispered out, wondering just how sober this two in the morning, strangely affectionate, Gerard would be. I hadn't high hopes, but that wasn't going to stop me from trying, after all, this was Gerard, and he was full of surprises, but not always in a good way.

"Frankie..." He recited my name once more, almost as if it was the only word that had survived his encounter with alcohol and remained in his vocabulary.

"Gee..." I mimicked his gesture and I found him squeezing tightly onto my hand in return, at least he understood that; I guess he was still pretty fucked up even by now. "Hey, are you okay?" I let the question pass my lips, clueless as to both what answer I'd like to hear and what answer I would actually get.

I felt his figure shrug against me; the gesture was brief and almost half-hearted but I felt it nonetheless, perhaps it was just the close proximity in which we lay. "I don't know." He mumbled against my fingertips, his hot breath tickling as it danced across my palm and my breath hitching a little in my throat as I failed to remind myself not to get nervous around Gerard.

I couldn't help it, Gerard was just that kind of whirlwind, all or nothing kind of person, and even in this fucked up mess, I wouldn't change that, not for anything or anyone.

"What do you mean you don't know?" I wondered aloud, watching as his eyelids flickered closed and generally loosing all hope of having a sensical or even sustainable conversation with him right now, but I guess I could try at the very least.

"I don't know." He mimicked, a grin spreading across his lips moments later, as if he was trying and failing to suppress it at first. He was ridiculous - that I was sure of, and not quite as annoyed at as I felt that I should be.

"Shut up." I groaned, a grin escaping my facade too. I didn't mind, either. Nothing felt that important in comparison to Gerard; he was just everything and I knew thoughts like those were unhealthy and often dangerous, but he was Gerard, and fuck, I just couldn't fucking stop myself.

"Okay." He breathed out and then remained silent for what felt like several minutes, whereas in reality was probably nothing more than a few painfully extended seconds. Time was again something Gerard affected greatly; I wasn't sure as to how the hell he managed it but with the way he made me feel, there was no way in hell that I was complaining.

"Gee..." I whined after a moment, missing his voice in the newfound and almost alien like silence. Even when we weren't talking, we were kissing or he was at least smoking, or something, but now it was nothing - silence and darkness and yet that was okay for now.

"Frankie..." And here we were back to the very start; something I perhaps didn't mind all that much. After all, Gerard's fucking voice could keep me occupied for days.

I let out a sigh, wondering if I was brave enough to continue with the question on my lips that just refused to go away. Brave enough no, stupid enough... perhaps. Then again, the line between stupidity and bravery had always been particularly thin.