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Hoboken (Push n Pull) - Gerard Way x Reader (Part 4)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Available on AO3

Summary: As Gerard's band gets bigger and the crowds get louder, your world stays small and steady. All access pass to his shows. No labels to your relationship. The push and pull finally starts to snap.

Pairing: AFAB-she/her!Reader | hoboken!gerard - gerard 2007

Warnings: —MDNI— situationship/slow-burn, smoking cigarettes, jealousy, unprotected intercourse, alcohol consumption, fingering, nipple stimulation, choking, oral sex (M receiver,) marking.

Word Count: 16,2k

a/n: life happened and the ao3 curse got me. idk how 16k words happened, but i hope you like it! thank u so much for your patience. we're getting closer! i'd love to hear ALL your thoughts. <3

The quiet came slowly, it gathered over the room as the aftermath of the moment unraveled.

Gerard’s breathing had started to even out, though sleep would definitively not have taken him yet. You could feel it in the way his fingers still moved slightly against your side, absentminded, like he was committing to memorize your skin before it could disappear again.

Words felt unnecessary. Anything too clear might break whatever fragile balance you had managed to build today. At some point, the tension that had been holding both of you upright finally gave in. It was only after you both left the bed, Gerard had slipped off the condom off of him and tossed it into the trashcan you had in the bathroom while you went and cleaned yourself up. The faint hum of the air conditioner filled the bedroom as Gerard returned, already dressed in his briefs, unsure of where to stand, what to do, who he was supposed to be now that it was over.

The air still carried the faint scent of his cologne, sex and sweat mixed with your sheets. Neither of you had said much after.

“It’s too late to leave, you wanna stay?” Your voice came from the bathroom, quieter than intended, softened by tile and echo. You turned off the light and returned to your room in the dark, the brief source of light coming from the streetlights through the window.

“Sure.” He felt his soul returning to his body. “Should I stay here, or…?” His point finger signaling the living room.

“No, please. You must be exhausted. Stay here.” You walked to your closet, searching for your underwear and a big shirt. You put it on before walking to your bed, lying on the left side, which was where you would usually sleep in whenever you had Gerard over. You didn’t bother in looking for another pair of clothes; you knew Gerard liked to be comfortable while he slept.

He did the same thing, moving the sheets around so he could pull it over yourselves, careful not to touch you too directly.

Your eyes traced the ceiling for a while, following the faint shadows cast by the lights from outside. The same ceiling you had stared at alone so many nights, now suddenly unfamiliar with someone else beside you. You were starting to notice small imperfections in the roof, like a small, orange dot on the left corner that now could drive you crazy if you didn’t fix it soon. You let that matter more than it should. You were doing anything to focus on something else besides the man next to you.

What felt like hours passed, maybe it was less. His presence was still as strong as ever, impossible to ignore no matter how still he stayed.

“You’re awake,” you murmured quietly.

“Yeah,” he answered, voice rough, softened by exhaustion. “I fall asleep late on the road. My sleeping schedule is so fucked up.”

“Don’t think. Get some rest.”

Your hand shifted slightly on the mattress until your fingers brushed his. He didn’t hesitate this time, his hand turned, fitting against yours, warm and comfortable.

The conversation from earlier lingered somewhere in the back of your mind. The decision, the agreement and the line you had both crossed and continued to cross anyway.

There was nothing left to say that wouldn’t complicate things further. At some point, his breathing deepened. The small, unconscious weight of him settling more fully against you. His body settled closer, subconsciously seeking you even now. You followed soon after, tension slowly draining away.

-

Morning came too quickly.

A pale light filtered through the window, washing the room in pale colors. The sky hung heavy and gray outside. The air felt cooler now, the warmth of the night replaced by the humidity of the upcoming Jersey rain.

You woke up first.

For a moment, you didn’t move. Gerard was still asleep beside you, turned slightly toward your side of the bed. His hair fell across his face, one arm tucked awkwardly under the pillow, the other one resting where you had been.

You let yourself look. His breathing was still slow, steady. One arm tucked under his head, the other resting where you had been pressed against him hours before.

A pale light slipped through the curtains, cutting across the room and landing somewhere between the bed and the floor. You woke first, though you didn’t move right away.

Careful not to wake him, you slipped out of bed and reached for the first pair of sweatpants you found. The floor was cold under your feet as you made your way to the kitchen, pulling your tangled hair up and away from your face.

Coffee felt like a necessity, needing it to clear your mind.

You sent Lizzie a message on MSN, telling her to let you know when you can return her car today. You didn’t wait for a reply before turning off your computer again.

By the time he appeared in the doorway, he was wearing yesterday’s clothes. You were leaning against the counter, mug in hand, staring at nothing in particular.

“Mornin’,” he said, voice rough with sleep. You hated how much you loved that sound.

“Good morning.”

A small pause settled between you, not quite awkward, not exactly comfortable, either.

“There’s coffee,” you added, nodding toward the counter.

“Thanks.”

He moved around the kitchen like he had been there before, knowing which door of the cupboard had the mug he was looking for, even though he hadn’t been there. Grabbing the mug he always used, with a batman design, he poured himself some coffee and added three teaspoons of sugar.

“Did you sleep?” you asked.

You both stayed standing at first, leaning against opposite sides of the counter, the space between you not quite as charged as the night before, but not empty either. He didn't answer, his mind probably still clouded by the sleep, so you asked again.

“How’d you sleep?” you asked, taking a last bite of your toast.

“Good, better than I have in a while.” he said after a second. “Hotel beds suck most of the time.”

It wasn’t the whole truth. He slept well also because he had an amazing orgasm, which had not happened ever since the last time he had sex with you. Seeing someone else was completely out of the question, and every time he had tried to touch himself, in the brief moments of peace and solitude he found during the tour schedule, his mind always drifted back to you. His sadness and the void you left in his life were bigger than the lust and the desire. Gerard was sure that he would feel even worse afterwards. He decided to just go celibate, drifting that energy into his work instead of his body desires.

Breakfast was simple. Toast, eggs, some jam and whatever else you had in the fridge, eaten standing or leaning against the counter. The conversation stayed light, circling around nothing in particular. Music, the tour, a random story about something that had gone wrong at a show, anecdotes about your friends and your moving story, harmless topics, anything but what you actually wanted to talk about.

“Do you want to see the rest of the apartment?” you asked, gesturing loosely toward the hallway. “I never actually gave you the full tour.”

He huffed a quiet laugh.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

You walked him through it slowly. The small details you had put together over the past weeks. The shelves you had struggled to install, the gifts you got, the living room that still felt slightly unfinished but lived-in, how much free space you got now in your bedroom. He noticed little details that you didn't have before, like the new lamp, which was a gift from one of your friends

Stopping in front of your bookshelf, he glanced at the comics stacked among your books, then at the framed drawing he had given you.

“You kept it,” he said quietly, pointing at it.

“Of course I did.” There was no hesitation in your voice.

Something shifted in his expression, subtle but there. Neither of you pushed it further.

“And what about the comics? Did you read them?”

“I did, this one was my favorite,” You pulled one out of the shelf, showing him the cover. “I hated the ending, though.”

“Yeah, me too. But that’s the charm of the story. Sometimes you don’t get the ending that you want.”

Funny. He always said the right thing.

The call for the taxi felt inevitable, but it had to happen. So you stood by the window while he spoke on the phone, asking you for your exact address and giving directions, his voice calm.

“They’ll get there in ten.”

Ten minutes.

It sounded longer than it felt.

You leaned back against the wall, arms crossed loosely, watching the street below. Cars passed, people walked by, life moving forward like nothing had changed. Behind you, he shifted slightly, he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right way to start.

Your phone rang before either of you could try.

You glanced at the screen.

Frank.

You answered almost immediately.

“Hey.”

“Hey!” His voice came through loud, full of energy. “Quick question. You busy tonight?”

You frowned slightly. “It depends. Why?”

“Small thing at my place. Nothing crazy, just people, food and drinks. You know… Birthday people stuff,” he said, with a sarcastic tone. “You have to come.”

You leaned back slightly against the wall, glancing at Gerard for a fraction of a second before looking away.

“What time?”

“Eight sharp. You can bring friends. Lizzie, your dog, whoever. I don’t care. Just come. Got lots of things to talk about.”

You exhaled softly.

“I don’t even have pets, Frankie. But, sure. I’ll be there.”

“Good. That’s all I needed,” he said. “See you later.”

The call ended.

Silence filled the room again, heavier this time.

“You’re going?” Gerard asked, tone casual, but not quite.

“Yeah,” you said. “I cannot not go.”

He nodded once, like he expected that.

Another silence settled between you, more fragile this time.

The sound of a car pulling up outside broke it. You both looked toward the window at the same time.

“That’s me,” he said.

Liars.

It wasn’t even five minutes.

Everything suddenly felt too short. The night, the morning, the space in between.

He grabbed his jacket from the chair, slipping it on slowly, like he was giving himself time he didn’t actually have. You walked out of your apartment and got in the elevator.

“Should I bring something tonight?”

“Just a gift or something, if you want. He will provide everything, don’t worry.”

The gray doors opened and you walked him to the door downstairs, keys in your hand.

“Thanks… for letting me stay,” he said, fidgeting with the sleeve of his jacket.

He hated to come back home to an empty apartment, asking to stay over at someone's place or crashing at his parent's basement just to not feel alone.

That's one of the bad things about touring. Crowds, thousands of people screaming your name and begging for some of your attention. And then, a couple hours later, when the noise faded and the lights turned off, he was left alone. The contrast was hard enough to navigate with an empty mind, even worse when it was full of someone.

“Anytime. You know you can always count on me.”

He lingered for half a second longer, like there was something else he could say.

“I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yeah,” you said. “You will.”

He smiled, touching your shoulder and leaving a soft kiss on your hairline before walking away. You kept looking through the glass of the closed door, still feeling the warmth of his lips in your skin.

When you got inside of your place, you immediately called Lizzie, and she replied almost instantly.

“Lizz, are you free right now?”

“I'm doing some stuff at home, why?”

“Can I come over?”

“Sure thing, I'll wait for you.”

So you took a shower, did your laundry and got ready to leave.

Driving to your friend's apartment, you stopped at the gas station to return her car with a full tank of gas and two coffees for you. You drove more cautiously than usual, afraid of ruining her car and your friendship.

When you got there, she was waiting for you at the entrance of the garage of the building in her pajamas. You parked her car and got out with the coffees, giving her back the keys.

“You deserve the biggest cloud in heaven.” You spoke, hugging her with one arm and the other one holding the coffee cups.

“I know I do.” She pushed you to the stairs. “I baked some cookies but I think I messed up the recipe. You gotta tell me all about the odor boy.”

She put a pop CD on the record player, and you sat down on her kitchen table.

You told her what had happened, the story had already started rearranging itself in your head during the short drive to her place, and you could see the disappointment growing in her face as you spoke.

“Are you serious? You're not messing with me, right?”

“I'm not.” The warmth from the coffee seeped through the mug, and you felt it in your hands. “But let's look at it from a more positive side, at least we kinda spoke, right?”

She didn't say anything else. You needed it to sound like progress.

“You cannot tell me that I am lying. We technically did.”

She sighed, and you saw the older sister hidden inside of her getting ready to come out. You braced yourself for what was coming.

“You got him in your bed and woke up next to him. But no, Miss and Mister “I'm-Too-Afraid-Of-Commitment” still walked away with nothing.” Lizzie brushed her hair out of her face with force, the frustration growing with each passing second. “I'd catch a bullet for you, but in moments like these I don't think it is worth dying for a dumb girl like you.”

You gasped.

“Lizz, that's really rude of you.”

“You were supposed to leave things clear, actually get closure on the situation. You guys are just leaving the door open.” She swallowed down the rest of her coffee, biting hard on a chocolate chip cookie that was way too solid to be digestible. “You know what? Let's talk about something else. I'm getting angry again, we can come back to it later.”

“Do you wanna go out today?” Lizzie looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Where?”

“I have been invited to a birthday party.” You spoke, purposefully avoiding the name of the person who threw the party. “James will be there.”

“Count me in, then.”

“Great! I will ask Brendon to come, too.”

She grabbed your hand, earnest, clicking her tongue before speaking.

“Careful there. He doesn't deserve a broken heart, and you know it.”

You started typing in your phone, the sound of the buttons clicking against your thumbs as you spoke.

“I know, Lizz. That's the last thing that I want.”

-

Lizzie brought her stuff to get ready at your place, Brendon agreed on meeting you there so you could go all together in Lizzie's car.

You stopped at a Target, buying a last minute present for the birthday person.

“Whose birthday is it?”

“Frank Iero’s.” You replied absentmindedly, grabbing a birthday card and a blue envelope. Your gift for him was coupons for meals at a new vegan restaurant in town.

Brendon could never stop being surprised with you. He definitely won the lotto getting that job, finding new friends, nice coworkers and getting to hang out with cool people all the time.

Meanwhile, Lizzie wanted to rip your hair out of your head one by one.

“Is he going to be there?” Her crossed arms made her car keys clank against the keychains, the sound echoing on the empty aisle.

“Of course, it's his best friend.”

-

Frank’s house was right in the middle of New Jersey and New York, nice and comfortable. It had actually surprised you to see, way bigger than what you had expected it to be. It was in a beautiful neighborhood, and even had its own backyard. He lived with his girlfriend, so they needed to have more space. You couldn't stop yourself from thinking how expensive rent must be.

Maybe it was the number of people, or maybe it was the way everyone seemed to exist in overlapping circles that kept brushing against each other without ever fully colliding, but the atmosphere was nice.

Frank had kept it simple. Radio music, some of his family members present serving snacks, no big crowds spilling into the hallway, garlands decorating the place and a handful of people he actually liked. It was the kind of night that made it impossible to hide behind noise.

You arrived with Lizzie and Brendon a little after nine. The door had barely opened before Frank pulled you into a hug, already a little flushed from whatever he had been drinking or smoking.

“You made it,” he said, smiling into your hair. “That’s all I wanted. You have no idea what happened, but she has to tell you.”

Lizzie handed him a poorly wrapped gift that looked like it had been done in the car (which was) and Brendon followed with a more careful one in a bag, earning an approving nod. You gave him yours, which he opened at the moment, and he almost jumped with joy. Frank hugged both of your friends as if they were life-long friends.

“Come in, come in. There’s drinks in the kitchen and Ray is actually devouring the snacks, so you guys better hurry up.”

The place smelled like vanilla. Someone had opened a window to let the cold air in, and the curtains moved slightly with the breeze. It felt warm but not suffocating. His place screamed “Frank” in every single detail.

You walked in, greeting some familiar faces, mutual friends and people who were used to seeing you around. You didn’t see him at first, which almost made it worse.

For a few minutes, it was easy to pretend this was just another night. Lizzie immediately pulled the three of you into a conversation with James near the couch, laughing too loudly at something that wasn’t even that funny, always showing him her better side of her face and smiling a little too much. Brendon stayed close, greeting people with polite smiles and easy small talk. He was happy to be there, hanging out with the friends of a rock star at his birthday party.

Then, as you were going to walk into the kitchen to grab a drink, you felt it. His presence just made you more aware of everything that surrounded you.

Your eyes lifted without meaning to.

Gerard stood on the other side of the room, half-leaning against the counter, a red plastic cup in his hand. His hair was slightly damp at the ends, like he had rushed to get ready, and his sleeves were pushed up just enough to show his wrists.

Something in your chest tightened. He gave you a small smile, and you returned it.

That was it.

Whatever you had agreed on the last time you saw each other settled silently between you. No scenes. A carefully maintained distance.

Lizzie appeared at your side a second later, bumping her shoulder into yours.

“You good?” she murmured, following your line of sight.

“Yeah, you want a drink?” you said, a little too quickly, already reaching for cups for your friends as you walked into the kitchen.

“Mm, sure” she hummed, unconvinced, but let it go.

Across the room, Frank was retelling a story to a group of people, gesturing wildly with his hands. At some point, Gerard drifted toward them, slipping into the conversation easily, laughing at the right moments.

Brendon joined you near the kitchen counter, handing you a shot of a transparent liquid.

“Here,” he said. “You looked like you needed one.”

You let out a small breath that almost turned into a laugh.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Only if you’re paying attention,” he replied lightly.

Your fingers brushed for a second as you took the small glass. He gave you a knowing look, and you knew exactly what to do. You have had enough nights out to develop some inside jokes of your own.

Your right arm looped around Brendon’s right arm, close enough to smell his cologne, taking the shot with him at the same time. The liquid burned down your throat as you both pulled away, laughing about it. It wasn’t the cheap stuff you were used to drink lately. Frank went all out with the drinks, buying the good stuff, bottles and bottles he kept hoarding in his bags during tour whenever he found great discounts.

His gaze had been moving lazily through the room when it paused, just for a second longer than necessary. Gerard was staring at the both of you. No one else in the room was looking at him long enough to notice.

He felt nauseous. What a stupid thing to do. Didn't the bride and the groom do that as their wedding toast? Intertwine arms to drink champagne?

What a great way to ruin a special action between lovers for a silly occasion like this. He thought you were better than this. He shook his head before looking away, bringing the red cup to his lips. Why did it feel like betrayal?

How dumb, genuinely.

Frank clapped his hands suddenly, cutting through the low hum of conversation.

“Okay, listen here,” he said, grinning. “I want a proper drink with everyone before the night gets away from me. Come here.”

People gathered loosely around the small table, glasses and bottles in hand.

You ended up a few steps away from Gerard, far away enough to look at him in the circle without much effort. Not far enough to ignore him, though.

Frank raised his drink.

“A toast to getting older,” he said dramatically. “And fucking surviving it.”

Laughter followed, glasses clinking together.

“For real, though,” he added, softer now. “Thanks for being here. The band, our crew, my friends, family and of course my soulmate.”

You lifted your drink with the rest, letting the moment settle before silence took over the room, everyone taking a sip of whatever they had in their cups at that moment.

When the small toast dissolved back into scattered conversations, the room shifted again. People broke off into smaller groups, movement filling the space. Mikey walked up to your group, greeting you with a warm hug.

Brendon excused himself to go to the bathroom, disappearing into the hallway while you stood there with Mikey, chatting about life and getting his new phone numbers saved in your contacts. Apparently, the last one leaked and he had to change it.

Did Mikey go to speak to you on purpose so he could make Brendon leave? He didn’t know. Gerard watched Brendon walk away without meaning to, he was only looking at you.

He counted to fifteen before pushing himself off the wall, crossing the room with an ease that looked unintentional, like he had nowhere specific to be, fingers brushing the hair out of his face.

He saw Brendon coming outside of the bathroom, walking to the kitchen. He decided to approach him at the same moment that Brendon started twisting the cap off a bottle.

“Hey,” Gerard said, casually, like this situation hadn’t been building in the back of his mind for the last five minutes.

Brendon looked up, a little surprised, but not uncomfortable.

“Hey there.”

Then Gerard nodded toward the bottle in his hand.

“How’s it going?”

“Good, Frank is a cool guy… You can tell how loved he is.”

“He is… We all love him. He’s the fucking greatest.” Brandon politely asked him if he wanted something to drink, and he nodded, resting his weight on the kitchen counter.

“So… what do you do for a living, Brendon?”

“I thought you knew.” Brendon laughed, pouring some liquid on Gerard’s plastic cup. “I work in finance. I am an accountant.”

Gerard scoffed at that answer, playing and hiding it with a cough. He didn’t know much about him. The only thing he knew about Brendon was that he worked with you, a fact that he already disliked. He never asked you about Brendon. He didn’t care about the guy.

“That’s cool. We need more of you these days…”

Gerard wanted to laugh. It was ridiculous. He expected him to be a bland guy, now knowing that he had to work with silly numbers all day just confirmed it. He was nowhere nearly as interesting as him. He had nothing to envy him.

“And what about you? What other things do you do, Gerard?”

“Well, I am writing a comic, actually… Hopefully, I will publish it soon.”

“That’s neat, bro. I used to love comics when I was younger. I don’t have enough time to read these days, sadly.”

“Sure, you did,” Gerard thought. Maybe the silly, famous, cliché comics that everyone knows. That was probably the only bit of fun he could get in his life.

“And… Are you single?” Gerard asked out of nowhere, taking a sip of the drink Brendon poured for him. It was the same drink you would almost always drink at parties. He saw two other cups on the table. One was probably for you. “From man to man, there’s this girl here that’s pretty cool and you’re exactly his type.”

Brendon didn’t look away when he spoke.

“Thank you, brother, but I’m not interested.” He put one of his hands in his pocket, getting nervous at the sudden change of topic of the conversation.

“Why not? She’s hot. She’s been friends with my brother and I for the longest time. And you seem like a nice guy for her.” Gerard pushed even further, leaning closer to him. “Or you’re not single?”

“I am single. I appreciate it, but no. Thanks.”

“Are you gay or something? Nothing wrong with that. I like… super, duper support you if that’s the case.” Gerard made a fist with his hand, raising it a bit and pulling it toward his chest in sign of respect. He was trying to push his buttons, his goal focused on finding the one thing that might help him figure this guy out.

“What? No, I’m as straight as I can be.” His nervousness, Gerard’s assumption and the alcohol in his system loosened his tongue a little too much, the following words rolled out of his mouth too fast to stop them. “It’s just that I’m into someone, already.”

“Who is it?” Gerard asked almost immediately, looking at Brendon as if he suddenly was holding the truth of the universe and he wanted to know all about it.

Brendon regretted it almost instantly, looking at his shoelaces, one starting to loosen. He sighed before speaking, embarrassment taking control over him.

“Don’t make me say it…” The words that followed made the noise of the party seem dull around them. “You know who.”

Someone laughed from the kitchen, a glass clinked somewhere behind Gerard, but none of it quite reached him. To say he was surprised would be a lie, but it was different to know it from the source himself.

He never thought he would be alive to listen to Brendon admit out loud that he liked you, even less that he thought that he had the right to say it to his face. Didn't he know that you have been seeing each other for a year at this point?

A faint smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, the kind he used when he wanted to look unaffected. He put up his best mask, the one he used whenever he had to play his public persona in public. The one he wears when he has to pretend that he can conquer the world in public when his life is slipping through his fingers in private.

“I don’t think she’s interested, sadly,” he hissed, voice light, almost conversational. “She’s not looking for anything serious.”

Brendon tilted his head slightly, studying him in a way that felt too calm to be accidental. The smallest pout was forming on Gerard’s lips, pitying the taller guy.

“How do you know?”

The question landed harder than Gerard expected. It was simple, but it still carried something underneath it. Brendon’s temperance and confidence were out in the open.

Gerard let out a quiet breath through his nose, eyes drifting past Brendon for a moment as if the answer might be somewhere in the room, avoiding eye contact.

“She told me,” he replied, a little too quickly.

That wasn’t exactly a lie. There was no way he could confirm it, though.

Brendon nodded once, absorbing it, though his expression didn’t fully give in to the explanation.

“People say a lot of things when they’re trying to protect themselves,” he said after a moment, tone still even. “Doesn’t always mean that’s what they want.”

Gerard’s gaze snapped back to him.

He wasn’t confrontational. He was never the type of guy to throw hands and get physical. But if he were to be, he would have definitely punched that horrible face of his in a heartbeat. He just let out a small laugh, shaking his head as if the whole thing amused him.

“Wow,” Gerard muttered. “Do you write? I mean, you’ve got such a sweet way with words, really.”

Brendon smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach his eyes this time. He wasn’t stupid, he sensed the irony in his tone. And Gerard was literally a songwriter, there was no world where this counted as genuine admiration.

“No. I only like stating the truth.”

A pause stretched between them. The silence was charged, the tension threading tighter with every second.

Gerard shifted his weight, rolling his shoulders back, trying to reclaim the ease he had walked into the conversation with. He could feel his heartbeat picking up speed, and the faint tremor in his hands sent a ripple through the liquid in his cup.

“So what’s your plan, mhm?” he asked, tone sharpening just slightly, the façade never slipping off. “You just gonna wait around until she changes her mind?”

“I’m not waiting around.” Brendon didn’t hesitate, and he spoke shaking his head. That caught Gerard off guard more than anything else.

“I am there for her,” Brendon continued, quieter now. “Help when she needs it. Talk when she wants to talk. And if that’s all it ever is between us,” he added, “that’s fine too.”

His fingers tightened slightly around his drink, the red cup threatening to crack and break under his digits for a second before easing again. Gerard studied him, really looked this time, searching for something flawed, something hollow, something he could dismiss. His peaceful demeanor made it worse. A scoff slipped out before he could stop it, though it lacked its usual bite.

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Of course… Or what? Should I do something to keep her tied to me while we are not together?” Brendon met his gaze, steady and unflinching.

The words settled between them, accusing Gerard directly. Gerard bit his lip to try to hold himself back from saying more than he should.

From across the room, your scream broke through the noise, bright and unguarded. Both of their heads turned instinctively.

You were standing near the snacks table with Lizzie, one hand wrapped around a glass, hugging and jumping with someone else with happiness. When you moved, Gerard saw that you were screaming at Frank’s girlfriend who was showing you her left hand adorned with a shiny band, the signal of the upcoming wedding between them.

That’s when he remembered how, during a free evening, they scheduled a jewelry store visit with Frank and Luna.

-

The bell above the door rang softly as they stepped inside. The noise from the outside dimmed out, their footsteps barely made a sound against the carpet of the floor.

The luxury store had cool lights reflected off glass cases, catching on rows of fine jewels laid out in perfect symmetry. Everything looked delicate, expensive and elegant.

Frank stopped almost immediately in front of the first display, hands tucked into his jacket pockets as he leaned down slightly.

“This is insane,” he muttered. “How am I supposed to pick just one thing?”

Luna smiled faintly, stepping beside him and palming his shoulder.

“You’re not picking a thing,” she said. “You’re picking the biggest choice of your life.”

Frank groaned under his breath.

“Thanks Luna, no pressure.”

Gerard stayed a step behind, hands buried in his pockets, pulling off the hood from his head, eyes moving over the glass cases without really focusing on anything. The place felt foreign, too clean. He was afraid of touching a glass, ruining it with his dirty fingers and breaking it in a million pieces.

A woman approached them with a practiced smile.

“Looking for something special?”

Frank straightened.

“Yeah. Uh… an engagement ring.”

Her smile softened immediately.

“Of course. Do you have something in mind?”

Frank hesitated.

“Yes, silver, and a stone. Something… not boring,” he said finally. “She hates boring. But not dramatic, she doesn’t like to draw attention.”

Luna let out a small laugh.

“You know what you want, Frankie. That’s a good start.”

The woman gestured toward a section of the display.

“Why don’t we begin here? We can look at different styles, stones and settings. Then we can talk about customizing something.”

Frank nodded, already leaning closer to the glass.

Gerard drifted beside Luna, both of them hanging back just slightly as Frank got pulled into conversation about different cuts of stones, his tattooed hand drifting between choices. Then Luna glanced at him, her voice lower.

“Do you wanna leave?”

He huffed quietly.

“Do I make it that obvious?”

“Yeah, you look terrified.”

His gaze moved across the rings again.

“They’re almost the same,” he said. “Just… different versions of the same thing.”

“That’s kind of the point.” Luna tilted her head.

He didn’t answer.

Across the counter, Frank was asking questions, pointing at different rings, comparing the width of the bands like he was trying to decode something.

Luna stepped closer to one of the cases, leaning slightly to get a better look.

“Come here,” she said, motioning Gerard over.

He hesitated for half a second before stepping beside her. She pointed to a ring set apart from the others.

“See this one?”

It was simpler than the rest. Thin band, small stone, nothing exaggerated about it.

“Most people overlook it,” she said. “It doesn’t try too hard. Yet, it is the most expensive one on display… It costs thousands.”

Gerard glanced at it, then at her.

“And that’s good?” He was smart at a lot of things, this wasn't one of those.

“I have no idea. It depends on the person,” she replied. “Some people don’t want something loud. They want something that feels like them. Quiet, valuable…”

Her fingers hovered over the glass, tracing the outline without touching.

“Something that fits into their life without taking over it. You know those girls who get engaged and make it their whole personality? Everything revolves around wedding preparations.” Luna spoke, way too energetically. “Then they get married, the honeymoon phase wears off and they have children because that's supposed to be the entire point, right? It only makes matters worse, of course. And they divorce a couple of years afterward.” She tapped her fingernail against the glass. “This is the exact type of ring a girl like that doesn’t want.”

Luna started speaking with enough confidence to make him think that, maybe, she was speaking from experience. Way too confident in her comments, not a doubt in her words. He decided not to say anything about it. Gerard’s gaze stayed on the ring a moment longer than necessary, deep in thought of the words the girl with bleached hair next to him spoke seconds ago.

Something about that felt familiar. Not the ring itself.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I think she’d like something like that.”

He didn’t realize he had said it out loud until Luna looked at him, surprised.

“Really?” she asked gently.

He shrugged, already pulling back.

“I don’t know. Just seems like her.”

Luna held his gaze for a second longer, then looked back at the display.

“You must know her really well.” Luna spoke, referring to Frank’s girlfriend.

Gerard wasn’t talking about her.

The saleswoman called Frank over to another section, pulling his attention away.

“Do you know her ring size?” she asked.

Frank blinked, afraid for a second.

“Uh… no.”

“You have to be kidding me.” Luna laughed softly.

“You’re supposed to know that before proposing, man. Did you not fucking Google it? Watch a rom-com beforehand?” Gerard leaned back against the counter slightly, arms crossing now.

“I thought I had everything figured out,” Frank said. “Apparently not.”

“You can always guess, you can adjust the size later,” the woman offered. “Or bring in one of her rings.”

Frank nodded slowly, processing.

“I can probably steal one of her rings,” he muttered.

“How romantic,” Gerard said dryly.

Luna smiled at that, but her attention drifted back to Gerard.

“Have you ever thought about it?” she asked casually.

He frowned slightly. “About what?”

“This.” She nodded toward the small sign on one of the displays. It had the picture of two wedding bands and a bottle of expensive champagne. Apparently, if you spent more than two thousand in cash, you got a bottle of champagne and two engraved glasses for free.

He looked away almost immediately, eyes landing on Frank as if that was enough of an answer.

“Not really.”

“Or not with the right person?”

He let out a quiet breath, something between a laugh and something else.

“I don’t think I’m the kind of person you do this with. I don’t really see myself as a husband.”

Luna didn’t react right away. Her fingers full of rings tapped lightly against the glass, looking at a pair of earrings.

“I don’t think that’s your decision to make alone,” she said.

Across the counter, Frank held up two different rings, comparing them with intense focus.

“Okay, serious question,” he called out. “Round or oval?”

Luna turned slightly, stepping into the light again.

“Oval,” she said immediately. “It’ll make her fingers look longer. And it also looks bigger without being too flashy.”

Frank nodded, like that settled it.

“See? This is why you’re here. You're helpful, not like others.” Frank glanced at Gerard, who didn't care about his subtle remarks.

Gerard watched her as she moved, the way she slipped into the role so easily. Luna was creative and always supportive, she was definitely the first one to call whenever someone needed advice. And for a split second, it was easy to imagine her in this space. Easy to imagine her helping someone build something made to last, but that thought didn’t sit right.

His hand moved absently to his wrist. Luna noticed how he brushed the bandana against his fingers. Her gaze lingered there for a moment, before lifting back to his face.

“You’re thinking about her again,” she said quietly, swallowing her disappointment.

Just looked back at the ring she had pointed out earlier.

“Maybe,” he said after a moment.

Luna nodded, then she stepped away, rejoining Frank at the counter, her voice lifting slightly as she started helping him master a plan to guess his girlfriend’s ring size.

Gerard stayed where he was, hands in his pockets and his eyes drifting between the glass cases and the reflection staring back at him.

For the first time, the idea of a ring didn’t feel abstract, as if those were the kind of things that happen to other people.

It felt like a missed opportunity, like something he had already lost the chance to give.

-

Brendon looked at you for a second longer than necessary, overflowing with happiness at the soon-to-be bride, and of course Gerard noticed the way his eyes shone when he saw you. When Brendon finally turned back, something in Gerard’s expression had shifted. The casual mask was still there, but it didn’t sit right anymore.

“Well,” Gerard said, lifting his drink slightly before taking a slow sip and leaving the cup on the counter. “Good luck with waiting around.”

Brendon gave a small nod, watching Gerard starting to walk away from him.

“Thanks.” Then, softer this time, almost like an afterthought, “Although you might need it more than me.”

That did it.

Gerard let out a laugh, shaking his head as if he didn’t care, as if none of this had struck a nerve, as if he didn’t actually need his well wishes.

“Trust me, I don’t need your good luck.” And he left the kitchen.

It took Gerard a second to realize why the place felt slightly off balance. It wasn't only because he was left with a bitter taste on his tongue after that horrifying conversation with Brendon. His eyes moved without thinking, searching past conversations, past the kitchen, until they landed on her standing near the table, talking to someone he didn’t know.

Luna didn’t arrive alone. She brought a friend.

And then she looked at him. A small smile tugged at her lips as she excused herself from the conversation and made her way toward him, her friend drifting off in the opposite direction.

“You guys didn’t tell me it was this kind of party,” she said as she stopped beside him, glancing around the room, signaling at her choice of clothes. She wore a short skirt, black thighs, boots and her favorite top that made her breasts look bigger.

Yes, he looked at her chest.

They were there, what was he supposed to do?

But, in his defense, she had told him that fact a couple weeks ago. He didn’t discover how the difference in size of her tits was determined by her clothing by himself.

She was glad that she always brought a jacket with her so she could cover up a little and not look like a slut.

He huffed softly, taking a sip from his drink.

“What kind is that?”

She tilted her head, studying the space like she was piecing something together.

“Everyone here seems to know each other,” she said. “I sort of stick out. I only know people from the tour.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied. “We’re all chill. Frank surrounds himself with great people.”

“You tell me about it.” She let out a quiet laugh.

The two spoke for a bit, chatting about the free time of the hectic schedule of touring and the plans for the upcoming weeks.

Then her gaze shifted, recognizing you in an instant. His eyes did not land directly at you, rather the people who stood next to you. Frank walked away with his fiancé by his side, spreading the good news to everyone.

“She’s here,” she added lightly. “And seems rather popular.”

“She’s just friends with most of us.”

Luna hummed, unconvinced but not pushing.

“Relax,” she said, glancing back at him. “I’m not interrogating you.”

“Sorry.” He let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh.

“I just like knowing what kind of chaos I’m walking into,” she added, tone easy, but her eyes sharper, and it wasn’t because of her eyeliner.

She leaned back slightly against the wall beside him, crossing her arms loosely.

“You seem nervous, Gerard.” she said.

“I’m fine.” He scoffed, a little too quickly.

“Dude,” she murmured, not buying it. “You keep scanning the room like you’re a cop.”

“C’mon.” His jaw shifted almost imperceptibly.

Luna’s gaze dropped briefly to his feet that were stomping slowly on the floor.

“You don’t look like you’re over it,” she said finally, quieter now.

Gerard let out a short breath, shaking his head like he was brushing it off.

His eyes were locked on your side profile. You were watching Lizzie flirting with James, fixing her hair a little more than necessary. They would make a cute couple. Brendon stood beside you, leaning in slightly as he said something that made you smile. Your posture had softened in a way Gerard hadn’t seen in weeks.

Luna noticed that too.

“He seems good for her,” she said casually.

Gerard’s head turned back toward her immediately.

“Please, Luna. You don’t even know him.”

“I don’t have to. He totally seems like her type, and he's cute.” She shrugged.

He didn’t respond, he knew he wouldn't say anything nice. Also, he knew Luna would keep talking.

“You don’t have the right to be surprised if someone else gives her what you didn’t,” she added, softer now. Then Luna shifted her weight, pushing herself off the wall. “What do you actually want from her?” she asked.

He blinked, caught off guard.

“What kind of question is that?”

“An easy one.” She shrugged. “It should be.”

“Nothing,” he said finally. “I just care about her. I really appreciate her”

“That’s not an answer.” Luna tilted her head, trying to read him.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” He exhaled, frustration slipping through. She didn’t soften.

“You don’t want a relationship,” she said. “You don’t want to let her go. And you definitely don’t want anyone else near her.”

“That’s not love,” she added. “That’s control.” His gaze snapped back to her. The words hung in the air. Gerard let out a quiet scoff, but it lacked conviction.

“You’re reading too much into it.”

“Am I?”

Across the room, Brendon said something that made you laugh again, your hand briefly brushing his arm as you turned toward Lizzie. Luna looked at the scene, then glanced back at Gerard, who looked way too angry to be at the birthday party of his best friend.

Would it be too bad for her to add some fuel to the fire?

“Your friend seems into her. What's his name? ” She commented, referring to Brendon.

“He’s not my friend. And his name is Brendan, Brandon, something like that.”

She raised an eyebrow, sighing loudly.

“You should be prepared,” she added. “Guys like that don’t play games.”

He nodded absentmindedly, but his attention had already drifted again. Gerard ran a hand through his hair, looking away again, the room felt suffocating. Luna watched him for a moment longer.

He was looking back at you.

Always back to you.

Luna followed his gaze, then looked at him again, annoyed this time.

“Gerard, are you even listening to me?” she asked, waving her hand in front of his face. He blinked, pulled back.

“I am just tired, sorry.”

A small smile appeared on her lips, but there was something different in it now.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I know where your head is.” She stepped away from him then, brushing past his shoulder lightly. “Try not to ruin your own night,” she added.

And just like that, she was gone, slipping back into the crowd, making new friends with her charming, funny, outgoing personality.

Gerard stayed where he was, until Mikey came to the rescue.

You asked Brendon for a moment to go outside and smoke. He didn’t smoke, and decided to stay inside to chat with someone else. You needed a moment for yourself, away from the noise.

You walked outside, pulling the box of cigarettes and the cheap lighter out of your pocket. The music was still loud enough to seep through the walls, but way softer here.

You took the first two drags, savoring the peace that the toxic cylinder gave you

“I didn’t know Gerard liked parties like this.”

You turned slightly.

Luna leaned against a column as if she had always belonged there, a drink resting loosely in her hand. Up close, she looked even more put together, and that made you suddenly aware of your own posture, your own clothes, the way your fingers tightened slightly around the filter of the cigarette. You felt ugly.

“He doesn’t,” you replied after a second. “But he would do anything for Frank.”

A small smile tugged at her lips, like she had expected that answer.

“Yeah. Frankie has that effect on people.”

Frankie. Is she aware that he just got engaged?

Her gaze drifted briefly toward the open door of the house. You didn’t need to follow it to know who she was looking at.

She extended her hand, asking you for a cigarette. You just gave it to her. She took a long drag and tried to give it back to you, but you had already taken another one out of the box.

You saw her hands, stained with blue ink as her fingers held the filter of the cigarette, leaving a stain of her red lipstick on it.

“You know, I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said, almost casually.

“Oh, really? From who?” Your stomach tightened.

She shrugged lightly. “From the guys. Mikey absolutely adores you, like genuinely. Ray and Frank do, too.”

She didn’t mention Gerard. You let out a quiet breath, eyes dropping to the cigarette and a tiny smirk on your lips. You didn’t know what to say.

“That’s nice. I love them, too.”

Luna tilted her head slightly, her curious eyes locking in your face. You suspected that she was expecting you to say something else.

“What about it?”

“I don’t know…” She swirled her drink around the glass, making you nervous.

Just when you decided to gather up some courage to ask if Gerard spoke to her about you, she beat you to it.

“He doesn’t talk about you much,” Luna continued, quieter now. “But he always manages to sneak you in one way or another…”

“What do you mean?” You blinked, caught off guard.

“It seems as if you matter more to him than he knows what to do with.”

A soft laugh escaped you, though it lacked humor.

“That’s not exactly comforting.”

“I’m not trying to comfort you,” she said gently, shrugging her shoulders. You had to look away for a second, her cleavage was distracting you. Her necklace sat perfectly in the middle of her breasts.. “I’m just being honest.”

You brought the filter to your lips, buying yourself time, grounding yourself in something simple.

“Then why does he act like this, then?” The question slipped out sharper than you intended. You knew she would have no idea of how he acted, at least with you. No one else knew.

And she spoke about the guys as if she was the fifth member of the band. If she knows so much about Gerard, she must know the answer, right?

For the first time, Luna hesitated. She let the ashes fall to the ground as she thought about it.

“Because he doesn’t know what he wants,” she said. “And if he did, he definitely doesn’t know how to do it.”

That felt too true.

“I don’t understand.” you asked, patience running out. “Why are you even telling me this?”

A flicker of something crossed her expression, her eyes narrowing just enough for you to notice. You were starting to feel a nervous laugh coming in, but you suppressed it.

“Because I’m trying to figure him out, too.”

Your grip on the glass loosened slightly as a shiver went down your spine, realization starting to sink in. Your little smile dropped in an instant, maintaining eye contact with her.

“You like him.” You said. It wasn’t a question.

Luna didn’t deny it nor confirm it. Instead, she let out a small breath, almost amused at herself.

“Gerard is the most interesting person I have ever met,” she said slowly, “He’s…. Charming.”

You huffed softly. “That’s one way to put it.”

“I mean, we have been stuck with each other on a tour bus all day for weeks. It was a matter of time.” She gestured with her hands, her chunky rings clanking and shining against the warm light of the porch. You just nodded at that: You didn’t know what you would have done in her place, spending every second of the day with him.

Did something happen between them? Her choice of words didn't seem arbitrary.

“And I am sure,” she added, glancing at you again, “that you already know what that kind of charm costs.” Then Luna straightened slightly, blowing out smoke.

“For what it’s worth,” she added, voice softer now, “you don’t seem like someone who should settle for being someone’s almost.”

She made an air quote with her middle and index finger at the last word. Your throat tightened.

“And you don’t seem like someone who would either,” you replied, feeling anger starting to develop inside of you. She gave you a small, knowing smile.

“Exactly,” she said.

She pushed herself off the column, pausing just for a second before walking back toward the house.

Coming to this party, seeing you close to the guy he knew Gerard didn't like and the fact that neither of you spoke with the other in the entire night gave her the nod to think that the coast was clear.

Luna was a lot of things, but she was exceptionally smart. Gerard was exactly the type of man she liked and wanted, and it happened that he had the perfect detail of an established career that would also allow her to settle down.

This was her one chance to find a good man and live comfortably.

You stayed on the patio a little longer than necessary, staring down at your unfinished cigarette, feeling like something had shifted in a way that you had never felt before.

For the first time in a year, you witnessed a real possibility of losing him for good.

-

Gerard didn’t mean to look.

At least that’s what he told himself when his attention drifted away from whatever Mikey was saying and landed, almost instinctively, on the doorway that led outside. He was positive that it was closed just seconds ago. Wait, when did Ray join the conversation?

Something about the way you had slipped out of the living room earlier had stayed with him, like a loose thread he couldn’t stop pulling at. The space you left behind felt noticeable in a way that didn’t make sense, especially in a room this full.

So he looked outside, and there you were.

Standing in the backyard, cigarette between your fingers, shoulders slightly drawn in like you were trying to make yourself smaller than you actually were.

You looked different when you thought no one was watching. His gaze softened without permission.

Then he saw who you were talking to.

Luna.

The shift in his chest was immediate and sharp, something tight pulling just under his ribs.

They stood close, not too close, but enough to suggest a conversation that was interesting for both. Luna was with that effortless posture of hers, calm, composed, completely at ease, his skirt flowing with the breeze of the night. You, on the other hand, held yourself like you were bracing for something, even if your face stayed neutral. He knew you enough to read into your body language.

Gerard frowned slightly.

He couldn’t hear a single word from where he stood even if he tried. The music swallowed everything, voices blending into noise, but the silence between them didn’t look empty.

Mikey nudged his shoulder.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah,” Gerard muttered automatically, not taking his eyes off the outside.

He watched the way Luna tilted her head as she spoke, the way her gaze stayed steady on you, unflinching. There was no hostility there. No obvious tension. And somehow that made it worse. Ray followed, now knowing the reason why Gerard seemed so out of it.

Because whatever that was, it wasn’t some superficial conversation. It surprised him that there was a conversation between you two, at all. His fingers tightened slightly around the neck of his beer bottle.

Luna had said something. He saw it in the movement of her lips, in the way her shoulders shifted, a subtle edge to it. You didn’t interrupt, just listened. You were good at that.

A flicker of irritation passed through him before he could stop it.

Not at her, but at himself.

At the fact that someone else was standing there, in that space, having a conversation with you that he hadn’t earned the right to have anymore. He was a coward, letting his insecurities get the best of him.

Across the room, Mikey followed his line of sight.

“Right,” he said quietly, more to himself than anything.

Gerard didn’t respond. It was hard to tell from the distance, but something in the air between you shifted. You looked down at your hand for a second, and for a brief moment, Gerard felt something dangerously close to guilt settle in his chest.

He knew that look. He had caused it once, and it has been haunting him for weeks.

Luna said something else, shorter this time. Then she straightened, taking a drag. And then, almost imperceptibly, her eyes lifted right toward him. The contact was brief, enough for him to realize.

She knew Gerard had been watching the entire interaction.

Luna didn’t miss things like that.

Gerard didn’t look away immediately. Something stubborn kept his gaze locked with hers for half a second longer than necessary, stoic expression on his face. Then she turned and walked back into the living room like nothing had happened.

You stayed behind, alone now, still holding that filter like it was anchoring you to the world.

Gerard exhaled slowly, only then realizing he had been holding his breath.

Ray followed Luna with his eyes, then glanced back at Gerard.

“You gonna go over there,” he said, casual but pointed, “or keep creeping from across the room like a weirdo?”

“I’m not creeping.”Gerard huffed quietly, dragging a hand over the back of his neck.

“Sure.”

His eyes flicked back to the outside, where you were already stepping on the used filter. You hadn’t moved yet. Something pulled at him again.

“You’re right,” he muttered, more to himself than to Ray, practically shoving the bottle towards his broad chest.

But even as he said it, his body had already shifted, weight moving forward, his attention focusing on you and you only. He was never good at maintaining his distance, and only watching you from across the room was starting to feel a lot worse than whatever would happen if he walked over.

He practically ran to you before you even managed to step a foot inside. He had to talk to you alone.

You stopped in your tracks when you heard the sound of his shoes hitting the floor, looking up to him.

“Gee, hello.”

“Hey, you came!”

“Of course I did. It’s Frank.”

“And you also brought your friends. I haven’t seen Lizzie in so long…”

“Yes, she kinda left me hanging.” You wanted to talk about anything else, shift the topic of conversation away from Luna far enough to distract him—and yourself—from mentioning her ever again. “Between us, she’s had a thing for James for the longest time. And it seems like he’s finally caught up on it.”

Gerard laughed at that. He knew that James thought Lizzie was pretty, just way out of his league.

“Good for them!”

“Yeah…” Silence stretched, keeping eye contact the entire time. “You leave today?”

“Whenever Frank gives us the signal, we get on the bus and leave.”

You nodded. Although you were used to the distance and saying goodbye, it had never made things any easier.

“And did you leave Brendon alone? He barely knows anyone here.” Gerard said, voice free of any ill intention. He couldn't be angry at you even if he tried.

“He’s an adult. He’ll be okay if I leave him alone for a while.” He smiled at that, taking a step closer to you.

The words Brendon had told him earlier were clouding his mind.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Go on.”

“I really do miss you on tour.”

And there you were again. His vulnerability with you was the thing that made your heart turn inside out in your chest, always saying the right thing at the right time to squeeze your feelings until you were hanging dry.

“Like… Don’t get me wrong, I fucking love doing shows… But I just like hanging out with you more.” His eyes were honest, soft gazing at you.

This time, you didn’t know how long it might take for you to see him again.

If you were to see him at all.

The distance stretching between you two felt painful. It was exhausting to keep masking all the emotions you were going through.

“Me too. You are everywhere now. I mean, can’t even go to the mall without seeing or listening to your voice.” You were sure that he blushed, his ears turning slightly pink as he got shy. He was never good at taking compliments, even worse when they came from you.

Silence again.

It was comfortable, normal. Just soaking in each other’s presence.

“So… engaged.” You signaled inside with your head, talking about Frank. “That’s cute. I’m so happy for him.”

“Me too. We helped him choose the ring at the store. He designed it himself.” Gerard added, one hand in his pocket. “It came out perfect.”

“You tell me about it. It’s gorgeous. It fits her so well.”

He looked at you, from head to toe, too attentive for something that wasn’t supposed to mean anything anymore. You were dressed in comfortable clothes, nice but not overly dressed up. He has seen you wearing those boots before, he remembered that the zipper on the left foot tends to get stuck sometimes,a detail that he shouldn’t remember. He could faintly see the strap of your bra from the collar of your shirt.

You did the same thing, checking out his black jeans that were hugging his thighs in the perfect places, he was wearing a new belt with silver details and the one jean jacket that still had your pins in it.

Every part of him was perfect in your eyes.

You didn’t know for how long you were in silence, looking at each other, ignoring the noise coming from inside the house. The connection between you two didn’t need words.

That was the main problem.

You didn’t want to regret having a missed opportunity in a few hours, when he would inevitably leave and you would have to stay, another moment you’d replay until you fall asleep everyday.

At the same time, you needed to know how Gerard would be willing to do what you said, how easily he would break the rules he had been the one to set.

You knew he wouldn’t ask.

“Do you wanna go somewhere else?” You broke the silence, bracing yourself for his dismissal.

He had to hold himself back from jumping in joy.

“Yes, please.” Gerard stilled for half a second, his mind started racing with ideas. “Can I meet you in the kitchen in five?”

“Okay.”

You smiled as both of you walked inside, going in opposite directions. You didn’t look back.

He did.

You went straight to your friends, interrupting Lizzie as she got closer to James.

“Lizz, I have to leave now. Can you stay? Everything’s fine, don’t worry.”

“Sure, are you okay? What about Brendon?” She replied, concerned, looking at you up and down. She would have gone with you if you asked, even if that meant having to leave the guy she's been crushing on for months.

“Don’t worry about it, he’ll talk to you later.” You didn’t even know if that was right, you just wanted to leave and not Irish goodbye to them. You searched for Brendon, who was talking to a small group of people. You pulled him aside for a second.

“Brendon, I have to leave. Don’t worry, everything is fine. I’ll tell you later. Can I ask you for a favor?”

“Sure, are you okay? Do you need help?” He looked at you, concerned, looking for a reason for your sudden leaving.

“I’m fine. I just wanna make sure that you and Lizzie make it home safe. Can you do that for me?” You asked with pleading eyes and a soft hand on his arm. He nodded in agreement, and you hugged him.

“Thanks, Bren. I’ll tell you later. Bye.” You left a kiss on his cheek. You didn’t miss the way his hand hovered for a second after you pulled away.

You walked swiftly to the wardrobe that was at the entrance of the house, where you left your bag and your coat, you didn't want your friends to see them. You grabbed your things and hid behind the wall next to the big refrigerator so you wouldn’t be seen from the living room.

Meanwhile, Gerard walked in beeline to Frank, who was sitting with his girlfriend on his lap as they were laughing with some friends from childhood.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Gerard spoke to the rest of the group, before turning his attention to Frank. “Frankie, do you love me?”

He looked at Gerard in confusion, one hand holding a joint and the other on his fiancé’s waist. “What do you mean? Did you break something?”

“No, I didn’t break anything. Just answer.”

“Yeah, bro. I adore you. What about it?” He started stuttering, confused and a little scared.

“Prove it and let me… go to your bedroom.”

“Sorry?”

“You adore me or whatever. Prove it, and let me use your bedroom.”

“No way, no.” He shook his head in disgust, his girlfriend laughing at the scene.

“I’ll go in it anyway, just need your approval.”

“No, the fuck you won't. Don’t you have a place of your own?”

His girlfriend looked at Gerard, murmuring something in his Frank's ear and nudging him at the waist. He thought about it for a second, nodding in understatement at something she said.

“Go on. You change the sheets before you leave.” Gerard extended his hand, and Frank took it making a loud clapping noise.

“I owe you a big one.”

He walked to the kitchen, recognizing you solely by an inch of your purse peeking through the wall. In an instant he grabbed your hand and pulled you upstairs, opening the last door in the hallway.

“You wanted to talk to me.” Gerard spoke, after a while looking for the light switch in the dark.

“Not exactly.”

He raised an eyebrow, confused as to why you didn't want to talk and why you weren't jumping on his bones in this exact second.

“So…?”

“Mikey told me that you haven't been doing well lately. I wanted to check on you since I know you won't tell me.”

He sighed, disappointed by the situation. Although it didn't last long until he gave you a little smile, happy to know that you cared about him. You weren’t supposed to care like that, at least not now.

“No, I haven't.” He walked to the bed, sitting down on the edge. You followed, leaving your stuff next to you and sitting next to him. “You have no idea how exhausting the tour is. We rehearse and write for hours every day, we perform and we also have to travel a lot. It's just… Draining.”

“I can imagine…” You tried to comfort him, a light touch on his shoulder.

“But I'm doing fine. Better than I expected.” He decided to change the topic of conversation. He wasn't in the mood to talk about himself. “What about you?”

“Me? Uhm… I'm okay. I have been hanging out with my friends a lot lately. And I'm sure that I'm getting a promotion this month.”

“That's amazing news!” He hugged you, and you melted in his arms. The rough fabric of the jean jacket was scratching your skin, but you didn't care.

His hands stayed on you a second longer than necessary after the hug.

You pulled away, pieces of your hair got tangled with the pins attached to the right pocket. You wanted to make a sneaky remark at that, but decided to stay silent and pull your hair away from them. Your fingers smoothed the fabric of his jacket where they had gotten caught, more focused on the motion than on looking at him. Anything to avoid the weight of his gaze sitting on your face.

“I missed you,” slipped out of you before you could stop it, too late to take back.

“You weren’t supposed to say those things,” Gerard murmured, his eyes looking right through you.

“I know.”

Silence settled again, heavier. full of everything neither of you wanted to name.

Your eyes drifted, almost against your will, landing on his hands resting between his knees. Ink stains on his fingers. A faint mark on his knuckle you didn’t recognize, hangnails on his thumb. Small, stupid details that made him feel real, too close.

“You said we should stop,” you reminded him softly.

“I did.”

“And yet we’re here.”

“You asked me to come.” A breath left him, something between a laugh and a sigh.

That was true. Your head finally lifted, meeting his eyes.

“I asked you to talk.”

He tilted his head slightly, studying you in that way that always made you feel like he could see straight through whatever you were trying to hide.

“And this is me talking,” he said.

It wasn’t, you both knew it.

Your fingers curled slightly against your thigh, you wanted to laugh at yourself.

He was finally doing what you asked him to do countless times. And you weren’t having it.

“If we keep doing this…” you started, but the sentence dissolved before it could fully form.

He leaned forward just a fraction.

“What?” he asked, quieter now.

Your throat tightened.

“I feel like we’re going to ruin it.”

“Ruin what?”

That made you laugh, but there was no humor in it.

“Exactly.”

His gaze dropped briefly to your lips before he forced it away, dragging a hand through his hair.

“So what do you want me to do?” he asked.

The question wasn’t defensive.

He was tired.

“I want you to leave,” you said. Your voice came out steadier than you felt, although it didn't last long. “But it hurts me every time you do.”

Both things, at the same time.

His expression shifted at that, something almost painful flickering behind his eyes.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “It feels like that for me, too.”

Another silence, but this one was different. You weren't avoiding this time.

He leaned back slightly, palms pressing against the mattress like he needed the distance just to keep control.

“We’re really fucking bad at this,” he added.

“We’re not even trying, in the first place”

That pulled a small, genuine smile out of him.

For a second, it felt like before.

Your gaze dropped again, and this time it landed on the edge of the bedside table, where your bag had fallen slightly open.

The pen was inside.

You recognized the box instantly.

Your fingers moved toward it instinctively, then stopped halfway, playing around with your movement as if you only wanted to close the zipper.

This wasn't the right moment.

You looked at him for a second longer than necessary, trying to read whether he meant it or if it was just another thing he said without thinking.

He held your gaze this time and you didn’t look away.

From downstairs, laughter broke through the quiet. Someone shouting Frank’s name. Music shifting to another song.

Reality creeping back in.

Gerard exhaled, pushing himself up from the bed, the movement slow like he was giving himself time to reconsider.

“We should go back,” he said.

You nodded, but neither of you moved immediately. His hand brushed yours as he stood.

And somehow, the words that followed felt like the most dangerous decision you had made in weeks, because stepping out of that room meant going back to pretending to be the version of yourselves that made sense to everyone else but you two

“Come on, neither of us want to.”

You just didn’t want to be the only one leaving empty-handed, like always. He should feel like you, feel the void of your absence in his life as much as you felt his.

“You're impossible.”

And that's how you found yourself under him in Frank's bed, hands tangled as you were rushing to get your clothes off of each other. He helped you get your clothes off, hurrying up to get you under him as soon as he could, still wearing his underwear while you were completely bare under him.

“I can’t control myself when I’m with you.” You whispered close to his ear and you felt his body freeze. You smirked at that, finger tracing the soft skin on his chest but his sudden hold of your hand stops you. He grips your hand pushing it away from him, down to his crotch, slipping inside his briefs.

“Show me, then.”

A low moan emerged from the back of your throat, his hardness fitting perfectly in your hand as you kissed him tenderly. He grabbed a hold of your hips pulling you closer, this time pushing his tongue into your mouth, giving you those wet, messy kisses that made your head feel dizzy. He pulls away leaning his forehead against yours breathing heavily, realization sinking in.

“Baby, I don’t have any condoms.” You never carried any with you, either. Dismay took over. He started looking around for a drawer or something that might have what he wanted. “Don’t you think Frank might have some hidden around?”

“Ew, don’t mention him right now,” your hand squeezed him, a whimper coming out of his mouth. “Let’s just do it and you can just… Pull out.”

His length twitched in your hand, you had to hold back a smirk.

“You’re fucking perfect for me, sweetheart.” Your hands slid off his underwear slowly, earning a soft groan from him in response. He moved away from you, removing it fully and revealing his hardened length causing you to clench around nothing.

He started kissing down your neck and your chest, travelling down to your core. You grabbed his hair, tugging it up in your direction until your lips touched his. He wanted to eat you out, but you weren’t having any of it.

“Just fuck me, I can handle it.”

You held your breath, hearing your heart beating in your eardrums so loud that you can barely hear the littlest sighs he gave you, his tip stroking and teasing your folds, not enough friction to satisfy you.

Leaning back slightly, he stared at your heat, surprised by the state of your pussy.

“How are you so wet already, mh? I barely even touched you.” Biting his lower lip, he parted your folds with his digits. You put your index finger on his lips, shushing him.

Just when he was going to make a snarky comment at that, your heels started to dig into his lower back, giving him the green light to grab his cock and enter you slowly

When he bottomed out, you had to gasp at the stretch mixed with pleasure and pain, as you curved your back for him. Gerard gave you a few seconds to adjust, kissing on the space between your neck and your shoulder. He slowly pulled out before starting to thrust with more intensity. He pulled away, his length still nestled inside of you, before he pushed your legs against your chest. The new position caused you to feel him even deeper, moans starting to come out of you.

Your mind was clouded by the pleasure, and you weren’t aware of the sounds you were making. He held himself up with his forearm, his other hand pulling his fingers inside of your mouth.

“Do you wanna make everyone know we’re fucking here?” Saliva started to accumulate in your mouth, drooling down his fingers while he started touching your throat. “Let everyone know how I make you feel?”

You would be lying if you said that that idea didn't turn you on, and he must have known that based solely by the look on your face. You tried breathing through your nose, but it was no use, his fingers caused you to choke and your eyes to tear while you were trying to pull away from him. He pulled his fingers out of you, captivated by your reaction.

“You’re nasty, Gerard.”

“And you love it.”

Strands of hair were falling down his face, and he gave you the smugest smile he could muster up before reaching your clit with those same fingers, rubbing your bud in the way he knows you like. He was smirking, glancing at you and where your bodies were connecting every now and then while his fingers never stopped.

His lips were red and swollen. He could only think about how you both were together in the most intimate way possible without any barrier in between. Your naked chest pressed against his own, your perky nipples rubbing against his, drowning yourself in his own scent.

You put your arms around his neck, forcing him to sit up on the mattress. With your knees on both sides of his hips, you start to move in circles before sliding up and down, careful to not let him slip out of you. You almost melt at his hands caressing your ass in circles, pushing the bittersweet thoughts away to focus on his presence and enjoy the pleasure.

You slowly slid onto his cock and you both groaned. Your wet walls made him whimper and throw his head back, trying hard not to come.

His fingers were digging in your hips, and you halted your movements to focus on his neck. Licking up a strike from his shoulder to his jaw, softly nibbing at the spot you know drove him crazy.

“Mark me.”

“What? But, Gee—” You raised your brow at him, confused. He couldn’t go around with hickeys on his neck, especially not now. He groaned, interrupting you.

“I don’t fucking care. Mark me, just do it.”

And in that moment, you made sure to do exactly that. You nibbled at his neck, sucking in every place you knew would be easily seen by anyone. He never complained, if anything, he moved under you to keep thrusting in. From his neck to his collarbones, you left countless red spots scattered around him. He reached to grab one of your breasts, squeezing it in his palm, and you felt him twitch inside of you.

When you finally pulled back, he was ecstatic. Blissed out expression on his face, sweat making his bangs stick to his face, and you softly pulled them away. Your sensitive walls clenched around him, your whole core burning from the uncomfortable position but you didn’t care. His hands were settled on your hips, making sure you don’t lose balance.

Your muscles ached, and he held your hips up and started thrusting up, meeting your hips in the middle. Moans filled up the bedroom as he kept his pace, hitting all the right spots.

Both of your moans got louder, his lips found your nipples, glazing his tongue around them, coating them in his spit before blowing cold air to them. Your eyes roll back, jolts of pleasure shooting straight through you.

He let you ride him through your high, the shockwaves of pleasure taking control of your mind and your body.

You let yourself go completely, and he took care of you through it, your cum helping him slip out easily to avoid finishing inside of you.

You were light-headed, your legs were shaking and your mind was completely full of him. You knew he was close to his high, too. He had to hold it back to not cum inside you. You needed to make him feel good.

Your hand searched for his length, pumping it.

“Where do you want to cum?” You asked, playing with the slit of his head with your thumb.

“Your mouth, please.” He replied almost instantly, breathless.

You moved away, arching your back and lowering your torso. He was glistening, flushed and throbbing. You left kisses in his cock, gazing up at him through your lashes, licking your lips to get a taste of yourself.

You took all of him in one go, hollowing your cheeks and letting his tip hit the back of your throat. Your tongue curled around the rest of him as his hands found your hair, fisting it as he thrusted slowly in your mouth. Your gaze locked on him, eyes closed, his pretty lips parted and moaning your name. His tip hit the back of your throat, making sinful noises, your eyes started to water as you tried to suppress your gag reflex.

His hands pulled with more force at your head, your scalp burned as his hips jerked. As you felt his salty taste in your mouth, you swallowed all of it, feeling him pulse against your tongue. Your hands caressed his thighs as he shook and jerked from his orgasm, trying to comfort him.

You kept sucking until he hissed in overstimulation and pulled you away, a string of saliva connecting you both.

He gave himself a couple of seconds to regain his breath before falling back on the pillows, pulling you by the waist to fall next to him.

He stroked his hands on your naked skin, while his other arm was around your frame. You laid on his chest, trying to memorize the warmth and the few freckles you could see on his skin in the dim lights of Frank’s bedroom. Naked and sweaty, you let yourselves come down off the high. You look like a disaster, but both of you don’t care about that.

Enjoying each other’s presence for the last time is way more important.

You were about to doze off when you heard the noise of glass breaking downstairs, followed by an instant of silence that was broken by laughter.

You had to come back to reality.

If it were up to you, you would get dressed and run away as fast as you possibly could. You would run away from the moment, try to escape the storm before it can get to you. Make sure that it catches you at home, in your safe place.

But you couldn’t, because of two reasons: One, because your heart doesn’t let you, and two, because you know how important aftercare is for Gerard.

You sat on the bed, grabbing the hand that was on your waist and leaving a tender kiss in his knuckles.

“Should we get cleaned up?”

He sighed, his stomach fluttering at your gesture. He sat up next to you, grabbing your face and kissing you deeply. He moved his hand to the back of your neck, pushing you even closer to have a better taste of you.

He bit down on your lip, hard, and you let out a little scream at the sharp pain he caused with his teeth.

“A little something for you to remember me.” He grinned, slowly sliding out of bed and grabbing your head, guiding you to the bathroom.

You winced in pain as you saw yourself in the mirror, blood coming out of your lip.

“Look at my neck, I look fucked.” Gerard said, starting to rinse his hands and wash his face in the sink. You followed, waiting for him to finish so you could do the same thing.

“We can get away with how we look.” You said while he was drying his face with a towel, looking for a bottle of mouthwash. You had black streaks in your cheeks, your lipstick was long gone and your lips were bloody and swollen.

“What about it? Let them know we fucked.” His hands found your waist as he stood behind you, looking at you through the mirror. “Or do you wanna keep the secret?”

“No, you’re right.” The sound came out muffled before you spat the mouthwash on the sink. “Let’s let them know.”

He smiled, leaving a chaste kiss on your shoulder before walking back to Frank’s room. You washed your face and tried to brush your hair with your fingers.

Gerard returned with his jeans on, the rest of your clothing in hand.

“As much as I would like to keep them, I can’t let you go home without your panties.” He complained, giving you your underwear.

“What a gentleman.” You replied, putting on each piece of clothing that he gave you. From your bra, your panties, your shirt and your pants. He put on his shirt as you turned off the bathroom lights.

“Socks and shoes are in the bedroom.”

Gerard put his shoes on while sitting down on the bed next to you, and then asked you to help him take off the sheets of the bed to put them in the laundry basket. You opened the windows to let the cool air in, making sure that nothing else was out of place.

Once you left the room somewhat decent, you stood on the door.

“Shall we eat something? I feel like I’m gonna pass out.” Gerard spoke, grabbing one of your hands in the process.

“Yeah, we have to go downstairs for that, though.”

He pouted, looking down, already feeling the weight of time on his shoulders. He gave you one last dirty kiss before opening the door, hand in yours.

You were surprised by the lack of people there, the music was long turned off and the house was surprisingly empty. There were still some of Frank’s family and tour members, but no more than that.

No sight of your friends.

Frank noticed first, of course.

He didn’t say anything, but the grin that had been sitting easily on his face faltered for half a second before twisting into a sharper, knowing look.

“In my fucking bed,” he muttered under his breath, his gaze cutting between the two of you with quiet precision. He made a disgusted face at the thought.

Mikey followed his gaze. His expression didn’t change much, but there was a quiet understanding in the way his eyes lingered just a second too long. He wasn’t surprised, if anything, he was relieved. Hopefully it will make Gerard be less insufferable.

Ray looked confused at first. Then he blinked, once, twice, and exhaled through his nose like he had just put the pieces together.

No one called it out, simply because they didn’t need to. They lingered instead, picking up cups, shifting plates, busy hands disguising the fact that they were giving Gerard something that he hadn’t asked for: Time.

A few more stolen minutes that will definitely get them a scolding from management tomorrow.

Because Gerard and you were eating one slice of birthday cake with the same spoon, sitting on the kitchen counter, trying to stretch the last moments together.

Your lips were swollen and your make-up was smudged, the collar of Gerard’s shirt was slightly off, one side pulled lower than the other. Both of your hairs were messy, dirty and sweaty. Faint red marks curved along the sides of his neck, visible under the dim light if someone knew where to look.

And someone did.

Luna.

She stood near the doorway, already with her jacket on, her friend beside her waiting for her taxi, bags in hand. Her posture remained composed, effortless as always, but her eyes moved with precision.

From Gerard, to you and back again.

He was giggling in a way that he had never done with her. And you were glowing, quite literally. Rosy cheeks and red lips. She would have paid big bucks to know what you were talking about with him that had Gerard so hooked on you, to the point that he didn’t realize that there were five people looking at him.

Nothing in her expression broke. No jealousy nor bitterness. It was a small, controlled inhale that made her recalculate the situation.

“Well,” she said lightly, breaking the tension with almost surgical timing, “looks like we’re all set to leave.”

“Not yet, I need to go to the bathroom. Wait for me.” Ray asked. He really didn't need to use the bathroom, but he wanted to give Gerard a few more minutes with you.

And they waited, helping clean up the space as they were supposedly waiting for Ray to come back.

Frank clapped his hands together once, loud enough to reset the room as he walked near the entrance to the kitchen.

“Alright, lovebirds. I hate to be a killjoy but it's time for us to go,” he joked, already moving toward the door, grabbing his jacket.

Gerard huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head like the word “lovebirds” didn’t make his heart swell on his chest. It settled right under his ribs and refused to move.

They spilled out of the house in fragments, laughter trailing behind them, backpacks on, voices overlapping in that loose, careless way that only came at the end of a long night or the start of a long journey. Maybe both.

His hand never left yours.

The air outside felt warm and denser than it should have, the tiniest droplets of rain starting to fall down.

Gerard walked next to you, one hand shoved into the pocket of his jacket, shoulders slightly hunched like he was already bracing for the distance again. The bus waited at the curb, engine humming low, headlights cutting through the dim street.

Mikey and Ray were already by the door, talking quietly. Frank lingered behind, saying something to his parents and hugging them goodbye before disappearing inside.

You slowed down. Gerard turned back, closing the space between you in a few quick steps. His hands came up without hesitation, cupping your face.

“Hey,” he murmured, softer now, his thumbs brushing just under your cheekbones. “I want—”

You didn’t let him finish, your hand lifted instinctively, thumb pressing lightly against his lower lip. A small streak of white buttercream lingered there, barely visible in the low light.

You wiped it away carefully, your touch lingered half a second longer than necessary.

Without thinking, you brought your thumb to your mouth, licking it clean. His breath hitched.

Something shifted in his expression.

“Seriously?” he muttered, voice lower now, rougher, eyes flicking between your lips and your face like he was trying to decide something and failing miserably at the process. His grip tightened slightly, fingers pressing just a little more into your jaw before he leaned in. No hesitation.

The kiss landed deep, he already knew that you would reciprocate it in the same manner. Your mouth tasted sweet, the kiss was everything you hadn’t said all night, everything you had tried to hold back, breaking through all at once.

Your hand slid to his wrist, not caring about whatever happened outside your little bubble.

Somewhere behind him, a door hissed open and reality creeped back in.

Gerard pulled away first, though it didn’t look like he wanted to. His forehead hovered close to yours for a second, breath uneven, eyes still locked on you like he hadn’t quite left yet.

“I’ll text you,” he said, quieter this time.

He lingered one second too long, pinching your cheek with his knuckle before stepping back. He turned in his heels and walked toward the bus without looking back again. You watched him go away.

Mikey climbed in first, Ray followed and Gerard disappeared inside without a word.

A few seconds later, Luna stepped up behind them.

She paused just before getting on, her hand resting lightly on the railing.

Her eyes found you. A small smile curved at her lips, and you just waved at her as sweetly as you could, as if you were saying goodbye to a close friend.

The door shut with a heavy sound and the engine growled louder. And they were gone.

You stood there for a second longer than necessary, your chest still rising too fast, your lips tingling with the ghost of him, before walking back inside with Frank’s family.

You went right inside the house, keeping your head slightly down, hoping and begging the universe that Frank’s family wouldn’t think that you were a slut for having sex at their loved one’s birthday party.

You were happy, ridiculously, overwhelmingly happy, your veins buzzing like you had swallowed electricity, the afterglow of good sex still clinging to your skin. You smiled, biting down on it to keep it from becoming too obvious, knowing that Gerard looked even more wrecked than you.

And there was something almost cruelly satisfying about that: Luna would know that you spent the night with Gerard, not her.

You felt at peace. For once, the thought settled in your chest like a quiet victory.

Coming back to the living room, you helped everyone finish cleaning up, slipping into the rhythm of it like nothing had happened, grounding yourself in the ordinary details. Plastic cups on the table, a half-eaten slice of pizza, someone’s forgotten jacket on the couch.

Frank’s girlfriend offered to call a taxi for you, and you accepted.

She gave you a cup of tea while you waited, pressing it gently into your hands like she could sense you needed something warm to hold onto, making some small talk to catch up.

“Can I see the ring again?”

“Of course!” She extended her hand, the shiny rock glimmering in every direction. “I can’t believe we’re actually getting married.”

“Come on, it was bound to happen. He’s head over heels for you.”

She blushed, her shoulders lifting slightly, like she was still getting used to hearing it out loud, taking a sip of her tea.

“What about you, huh? You’d make such a pretty bride.”

“Me? I’m not even in a relationship.” You laughed, already feeling miserable. It came out thinner than you expected.

How quickly could the world conspire against you to remind you of those small, little details?

Very fucking quickly.

“What about…?” She didn’t have the courage to mention him, but it wasn’t even needed. You knew who you were talking about.

“Gerard? We are just… seeing each other.”

She looked confused, furrowing her brows at your answer. She was trying to understand something that didn’t quite make sense. You didn’t blame her.

“But… I’ve known you for a while now. How long has this been going on for?”

You sighed, leaving the cup on top of the small plate, the porcelain clinking softly as you crossed your arms. You answered.

“A year.”

She gasped, her eyes widening, the reaction immediate and unfiltered. The people around you knew that you were definitely something, but they didn’t know exactly what. Nodding, she gave it a long second before speaking again.

“I think we have built enough trust to talk, right?”

“Yes, we did.”

“Ttake this with a grain of salt, but if I were serious of this thing with Gerard, I’d hurry up.”

“What do you mean?”

She looked at you as if she was telling you a secret, getting closer to you.

“That new girl with the astro-like name? She gives me a bad feeling. And I’m not talking about Gerard only.” You were shocked. “I had to have a very serious conversation with Frank about her… Maybe I’m wrong, but I don't like how close she is with the guys. Why isn’t she like that with Ray or Mikey?

You thought about it. Your mind replaying every small interaction, every glance you hadn’t paid attention to before, realization settling in. Neither Ray or Mikey have ever given her the space nor the trust to get close to them.

“I haven’t thought about it in that way, honestly.”

“I don’t want to scare you or anything.” She reached out to squeeze your arm for a brief second, reassuring. “But I would like to have someone to tell me this if I was in your place… And also, I like you better than her.”

At that moment, as you started to laugh, Frank’s mom walked into the kitchen, telling you that the car was already waiting for you.

She gave you some cake to take home, hugging you at the entrance, her arms warm and firm around you.

“Thank you so much for coming, Frank really wanted to see you.”

“Me too. And congratulations again!”

“Thank you. Before you leave, give me your phone number, we should definitely hang out some day.”

She gave you her phone, and you saved your number. You gave yourself a missed call and got into the car.

As you were going to save her in your contacts, you saw an unread message.

Gee: did u make it home ? Gee: I had a wndrful night

You stared at the screen longer than necessary, your thumb hovering over the keyboard, your heart pulling in two different directions at once.

That was all you were going to get.

For now.

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