finally, hurrmm? =D

"Vegan, huh?" Gerard inquires when Mikey mentions my eating choices at the dinner table. I'm glad that I'm getting used to Gerard's presence. I mean, I still... I don't know what it is that I feel for him, but I still do. I'm pretty able to control it now, though, and I can have a decent conversation with the guy.

"Yep, vegan."

Alright, maybe less than decent. But I'm trying!

"That's cool; why, though?"

"I have an animal affinity," I admit. "I can't stand eating or using anything that comes from them. To me, it's like cannibalism or murder."

Gerard looks at me wide-eyed. "I never thought about it that way..."

"Yeah, a lot of people don't- oh! No, no, I don't mean to put you off it or anything. It's just my thing."

Gerard laughs. "It's a little late for that one, I think."

"Do we have a convert?" I ask enthusiastically.

Gerard looks pensive for a moment, and Mikey finally offers some input. "If he hasn't converted me after how many months, I don't think he'll get you to go vegan just like that."

Gerard smirks apoligetically. "Mikey has a point," he says. "Sorry, Frank. I'm gonna have to go on being a cannibalistic murderer."

"By all means," I joke. I see Gerard take a drink of water, and I see an oppertunity. "The pigs aren't gonna care."

The eldest Way brother bursts out in belly laughs at my pun, clasping a hand to his face, undoubtedly to catch water coming from his mouth, and possibly his nose. I giggle along, and Mikey does his thing where he looks incredibly adorable while laughing. He shuts his eyes and scrunches his nose, throwing his head back and chuckling in his cute way. That makes me laugh even more, and Gerard is the first to speak amidst the peals of laughter. "It wasn't even," he takes a breath, "that funny!"

"I know!" Mikey hollers.

"I can't stop," I gasp for air, "laughing!"

"Try! It's your laughing that's making me laugh!" Gerard says to me desperately amidst howls.

"Mikey's making me laugh!"

Mikey, as I see, is desperately trying to stop laughing, but in his effort (covering his face in his hands and silencing his giggles), he looks sort of silly, and more than sort of cute. That calms me down, effectively calming down Gerard, who flashes me a positively heart-melting grin. I stop making sound abruptly, and focus on my plate, skewering a macaroni noodle with my fork. I try and stare at it like it's the most interesting thing on planet earth, because the other , currently, most interesting thing on planet earth is staring at me.

I finish up my dinner around the same time as the other two and Mikey offers to do the dishes. I really don't want to be alone with Gerard, because even now, getting used to him, I'm not sure if I can handle it. Gerard and I simultaneously say, "No, I can do it."

Mikey looks at us strangely, gets up, and collects our plates. "S'my house," he says plainly. "I should clean it up. Plus, you two should get to know one another more."

I can't argue with that perfect setup, and, apparently, neither can Gerard. He and I thank Mikey for dinner and head into the living room, plopping next to one another on the couch. He puts his arm on the back of the sofa, and I inch in slightly closer, looking at his thighs. They seem muscular. What wouldn't I give to be pressed up against them? Even more, to have my own thighs knocking against them as he wriggles underneath me, begging for more? "Twenty-five," Gerard says suddenly, "Aries, freelance artist who hasn't gotten much work lately. I sing, my hair is naturally this color, I'm a dog person. We friends now?"

"Twenty-one,"I reply, catching on and appreciating his wit, "Scorpio, between bands right now. I play guitar, I don't know my natural hair color anymore, and I'm a dog person as well. Yes, we are."

"Good. I think you'd be a great friend, but I have to admit, Frank, you scare the hell outta me."

I'm vaguely insulted. I don't like being classified as 'scary', especially by those I'm trying to get in good with. "W- why?" I ask.

"It's nothing bad, it's just that- ahh, nah. You don't want to hear my ramblings that'll probably just confuse you," Gerard says sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. I wish it were my hand, and that my lips were pressed onto his. This thought almost distracts me from what I'm going to say, but then I recall.

"You've told me enough to make me curious. I'm not gonna stop asking until you say the rest, so you may as well," I entreat.

"It's stupid," Gerard says. "Really."

"Tell me."

"I don't wanna be a homewrecker!"

"Hmm?"

"Shit. Nothing."

"Gerard," I scold. "Just get it out."

"You don't wanna hear it."

"You're wrong."

"Alright! Jesus. You're confident, you're... you're not bad to look at, and you have a really great laugh, and... and... I like you, okay?" he hisses. "And I can't stop it. I've never ever wanted a boyfriend of Mikey's, but I saw you, and..."

"Love at first sight," I state.

"Yeah," Gerard breathes. "How'd you know?"

"I feel the exact same way about you," I admit, slightly hesitantly. As good as it was to hear it, and know I wouldn't be rejected, confessing things in practice is always such a bitch.

Gerard looks at me for a minute or so, barely blinking. I'm swimming in his eyes, trying to read what he may be thinking. I'm sure he's thinking of doing something with this newfound information. After all, who wouldn't? When I learned about Mikey's mutual feelings for me, I'll bet I had the exact same look in my eyes. The slightly hungry, slightly awed expression. He licks his lips in a fidgety sort of way, and stands up. "Come see my room," he says.

"I've already-"

"Just do it."

I hoist myself off the couch and follow Gerard to his room, which is the spare room of Mikey's house. I've used it a few times by myself, when Mikey and I got into arguments in the middle of the night a couple times, and he and I have used it lots together. But now it looks strangely different. Gerard's clothes litter the floor and he has bottles of God-knows-what on the dresser. It's very Gerard, I reason. I really do like that futon, too. I'll bet it smells like him now...

"It's cool," I appraise casually.

"Show me you love me."

"Eh?" I ask, and cock my head to the side. Did I hear him right? Even if I had, what do I do? Show him I love him. How?!

"Fuck sakes," he murmurs at my lack of response, stepping forward and forcefully kissing me, taking hold of one side of my face and the back of my head. I stupidly go limp for a moment before I process the moment. I place a hand gingerly on his neck, and one on his chest. I purse my lips and respond to Gerard's hungry kisses, with my own enthusiastic ones. I can still hear Mikey doing dishes and moving about the kitchen.

"God," Gerard groans, getting some air, "you're great."

"Am I?" I mutter dreamily.

"Yeah," he purrs, pressing his lips to mine once again. I can feel the thrumming of his heart through his chest, and I'm glad mine isn't the only one pounding that fast. And then, I back up. My moral compass has to develop itself at this particular moment, doesn't it? I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and prepare to deny myself and Gerard of what we want.

"Mikey," I state.

"Fuck him," Gerard says, obviously anxious to get back to it.

"I do. That's the thing."

Gerard steps back, and begins to chew on his bottom lip. "Yeah," he says, a little dejected and a little cold, "I suppose you're right."

I offer him an apologetic smile, and I can tell he tries to reciprocate, but it's not much. In a way it amplifies my guilt, making it multifaceted. Sure, I feel like shit over Mikey, being so blissfully ignorant and in love with me, but now I feel like shit over Gerard. God knows I want him, and it's rather clear he wants me, too. This is the dictionary definition of 'torn'.

I slip sadly out of Gerard's room and into the kitchen where Mikey is. My stomach wrings itself out when he smiles at me. My knees are week and I feel a blush coming on. "Hey," he chirps. "I'm so stoked you and Gerard are getting along like you are. I was afraid you two would kinda clash."

"Nope, nope. No clashing," I say hurriedly. Except, I tell myself, our mouths. "But, eh, listen. I should go. I got work in the morning."

Mikey laughs knowingly. "It can't McWait until tomorrow?"

I roll my eyes and go closer to him. "McFuck you," I quip, kissing him gently.

He pulls back. "McFuck me, eh? If you did, I'd be lovin' it," he remarks, smirking at his own wit.

I kiss the smirk off him. He glides his tongue swiftly on my bottom lip, and I open my mouth wider, inviting it in. He obliges and slides his wandering tongue over mine, drawing it upwards and they mesh together in romantic fury. He runs a hand down to my ass, squeezing it, and that's a sign I have to back away. "Seriously," I say, a bit breathless, "I gotta go."

"You're no fun."

"You love me," I remind him.

"You love me, too," he replies.

I slide my shoes on and step out into the muggy night. I'm dying for a cigarette, so I hightail it home, where there's the comfort of my own space, my stuff, and my Marlboros. I take one out, light it and inhale a rather large drag. I feel calmer, and I flop down on my couch, in front of my television to flip through the channels. Such is my Wednesday night routine.

I peel off my shirt and toss it against the wall, because the ventilation in my building... well... there isn't any. It's pretty shitty, and things get sweaty pretty fast.

I begin to doze as the blue light from my T.V. Stings my eyes after a few hours, until there is a loud rapping on my door, and I nearly piss myself. "Fuck!" I hiss to myself. "Hold up!" I holler, jumping off the couch and jogging to the door. I fling it open, thinking it may be Mikey or something. It's certainly not who I expect. I'm nearly as awestruck as the first time I saw him, standing in the doorway, wearing sunglasses.

"Hey, Frank," Gerard says quietly, looking at his shoes. "Mind if I come in?"

"N-not at all," I stammer. "What time's it?"

"Like, ten, ten-thirty. What's up?" he asks, sauntering past me, taking in my shitty abode.

"Uh, not much, dude. You?"

"Came to visit," he states. "You seemed in a rush to leave."

"Well, you can't blame me, can you?"

Gerard laughs a bit, through his nose. "Not at all. I guess I came on kinda strong, huh?"

"Kinda!" I enthuse, laughing in relief that he felt the same. "But..." I hesitate a moment, "but it wasn't bad, or anything."

He smirks at me, and it's indecipherable. I'm not sure if he means to thank me or to kiss me again, although I find out very quickly. He steps towards me and rakes some of my hair behind my right ear with his hand and leaves it there, locking me where I stand. He looks into my eyes, and I look into his, and it's way too intimate for two gus who aren't together. I can see Mikey and I having a moment like this, but it feels strangely alright with Gerard. I take this as a bad yet intriguing sign. "Hey, handsome," Gerard murmurs before resting his lips on mine, without pressure or stress.

I respond, pursing my lips slightly, and he applies more force. I, in turn, kiss back a little more intensely and it escalates until he's gripping my head as opposed to resting his hand on it, and pushing me closer. I lift my leg up like in some fucked up, sexual tango, and Gerard puts his other hand under it, hoisting it up to around his waist, and rubbing it up and down methodically. I adore having the backs of my thighs paid attention to, so I groan unthinkingly. Gerard laughs a little, and guides me over to my couch. I wonder why he has such a good handle on my place's layout, but that train of thought is stopped when he lays me down and gets on top. He leans down and kisses me, picking up where we left off, but this time he gently, so gently I'm only barely aware he's doing it, grinds his hips down against mine and moves them up and down and around, but all very subtly. I whisper an, "Oh," and raise my own hips up to crash a little more intensely with his. Gerard pushes my lower half down with his, and makes his movements a little rougher. I grab the hem of his shirt in my two fists and yank it up over his head, then toss it to the other side of the room. I want to feel him on me, feel his skin on mine, so I try and take off my own t-shirt, but it's trapped underneath Gerard, so I can't pull it free. He sees what I'm doing, and assists me in my emancipation. I put my hands to his back and hold him close to me, as he keeps gyrating his hips and kissing me with what feels like a lot of emotion.

I'm dismayed, however, when he stops abruptly. I look at him and raise an eyebrow in my confusion. His only reply is putting his hands to my crotch and working the fly of my shorts. It takes him a little bit longer than I would have liked, but he eventually gets them off, and he slides out of his jeans in a more timely fashion. I think on the fact that there is only two thin layers of fabric seperating all of him from all of me. I instantly despise whoever invented boxers.

As if reading my mind, Gerard got a grip on the waistband of my underwear and I buck my hips up to try and speed him along, but he says, "No, no, no. You gotta beg."

And I'm confused again. I'm supposed to beg this motherfucker to take my boxers off? Christ. "Beg?" I ask.

"Beg," he purrs, pulling the elastic up and snapping it on my hip. That's about all I can take.

"Please, please, please, please, please, please take them off!" I whine, mentally willing him to just do it already.

"More like it," Gerard mumbles to himself in what seems like content as he slowly, slowly, almost too slowly, pulls down my blue plaid underwear. I realize with relish that there is only one layer of clothing left between us. I put my hands to his boxers and I smirk at him.

"You don't need to beg," I practically growl, and yank down that one, despised barricade.

Gerard looks down at me nervously and I ask why. "You..." he says quietly, "you're clean, right?"

"Clean of?"

"You know..."

"OH!" I exclaim in realization. "Yes, I am."

"Good," Gerard says as he gets off me and extends a hand. I take the hand and he takes my spot on the couch and looks up at me. "D'you mind being on top?"

I blink at the sheer stupidity of the question. "Not at all. But we're not gonna use any..."

Gerard shakes his head. "Don't like the way it feels. You'll think of something if it's too much a tight fit."

The way he says it, with that subtle wink before he turns his head back around, and the smooth tone of his voice banishes all my nerves. I sort of kneel between his legs and put a hand on each side of him to let him know I'm ready, but also to stabilize myself. I start trying to force my way into him, but it's hurting me as well as him. And then I remember his instruction to think of something... Hmm. I bite the insides of my cheeks and try to come up with an idea. But as the saliva rushes to my mouth while I bite, I get a notion. I've seen it done before, so it must work... I spit down on my all-too-eager cock and then it's far easier to slide into Gerard. He feels... different than his brother. I hate to say it, but he feels better. And I don't think he minds the way I feel, either, because in not a very long time at all he tenses up in almost the same instant I start to whimper. I don't recall the last time I came that intensely, that fast. It certainly did not happen with Mikey.

I roll off of him and collapse onto the floor, my entire body aching for a smoke. I basically crawl towards my pack and hold it out to Gerard to see if he wants one. He accepts and I light his cigarette for him before I light my own. It's simply courtesy.

It's funny how I can think of courtesy, when I've done the most disrespectful thing I could ever do to Mikey. My lack of remorse is also funny, but not so much an ironic funny as an incredibly sad one.