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Gerard's not crying when Mikey drops him off at Frank and Jamia's, but his eyes are red and swollen like he's been weeping for a week. Which he pretty much has, if Mikey's desperation-tinged text message had been anything to go by.
"You'll be okay, Gee?" Mikey asks now, giving him a quick hug on the porch as Frank watches, propping the screen door open with his foot.
"Yeah." Gerard's voice is a little wobbly and he's got his fingers wrapped in Mikey's sleeve, but he lets Mikey pull away and turns agreeably towards the door when Mikey presses on his shoulder.
"He'll be okay." Frank gives him an awkward pat on the back as he goes inside - jeez, the guy is wrecked.
Mikey looks at Frank. "Thanks," he says. "I just need, like, a night. One night."
It's been a week, since it happened. Since Gerard caught Pedicone with another dude. At their place. In their bed.
Mikey sounds frazzled, but looks just the same as always, impassive and calm. Frank gives him an awkward pat too. "A break. You need a break. It's okay, dude. We got this."
"Thanks." Mikey pushes his glasses up his nose. "I'll pick him up tomorrow."
"Tomorrow night," Frank says. "Pick him up tomorrow night. It's cool, Mikey."
"Okay," Mikey says after a long pause. "Thanks, Frank."
***
When Frank lets himself in the apartment, Gerard's in the foyer with Jamia, still struggling to get his boots off. He finally shoves the second one off and climbs slowly to his feet. His socks don't match, and both of them have holes in them. He looks at Jamia through his dirty bangs. "Hi."
"Hey, princess," she says, just like always.
Gerard's face crumples and suddenly he's up against Jamia, crying on her shoulder as she stares at Frank. Gerard's hair is in her face and she mouths oh, fuck me at Frank as she wraps her arms around Gerard only slightly less uncomfortably than Frank himself would have done.
"Hey," she says. "Okay. Okay. C'mere."
Gerard sort of just folds in against her, and now he's really gotten going. His body is shaking with it, but he's not really making any noise, just weeping quietly, his face pretty much buried in her tits.
Frank looks at Jamia and shrugs uneasily.
"Vodka," she tells him softly, and okay, yeah, that he can do. He goes to the kitchen, gets the vodka out of the freezer. He thinks about Gerard's shaking shoulders and checks to be sure they've got another bottle in there. It's going to be a long night.
When he makes his way back out, heading to the living room with the bottle and shot glasses, Gerard's calmed down some. His face is pink and streaky with tears, but he's breathing only a little shuddery, and gazing up at Jamia like he's waiting for her to make things better.
"Okay," she says, all business. "Let's just - " She tugs at his denim jacket, pulling it off of him, and he lets her. He's left there in a t-shirt that was definitely in better shape about three days ago, and a pair of raggedy jeans that are stained and torn. His hair is a mess, standing up in greasy tangles.
Frank and Jamia both look at him for a minute.
"Shower," Jamia says. "C'mon."
"I don't -" Gerard starts unhappily.
"C'mon," Jamia says again, firmly. "Come with me."
Gerard sighs and follows her to the bathroom.
"I don't need a shower," Frank hears Gerard say. "No one cares about me anyway."
"You're pretty stinky," Jamia responds, but not unkindly. "And we care about you."
Gerard sniffles loud enough for Frank to hear in the hall and Frank braces himself for another onslaught of tears.
"Here," he hears Jamia say. "You can use the good body wash, okay?"
"...from LUSH?" Gerard sounds cautiously interested.
"Yep."
The shower starts and Jamia comes out, turning around in the doorway and tilting her head, pointing at the shower firmly.
"I'm going, I'm going," Gerard says as Jamia shuts the door behind him. She rolls her eyes at Frank and the two of them stand there for a second. Frank hears various rustling sounds coming from inside the bathroom, and then the sound of the curtain being drawn back.
"Can I use your pouf?" Gerard calls out.
Jamia shuts her eyes for a handful of seconds. "...sure."
Frank looks at her and she blinks her eyes open, looking at him. "We have enough vodka for this?"
Frank shrugs. "I'm not sure there's enough vodka in the world for this."
Jamia leans in, wrapping herself around him, and Frank takes a breath, presses his face against her soft skin. She rubs one hand up the back of his neck. "This sucks," she says.
"It really fucking does." He lets her go, because every time he thinks about it, his fists clench and he wants to punch the wall. Or Pedicone's face. Mostly Pedicone's face.
She looks at him for a second as he works down the fury, breathing through his nose. They had to pay for the repair when he put his fist through the slatted closet door in the bedroom a few months back. He's trying to not do that again any time soon. "Shots," she says, finally. "They'll help."
"Right." Frank's stomach hurts - it's the tension, and all the anger he's had to swallow, and the fact that he didn't have the opportunity to actually punch Pedicone in his fucking face when he found out from Mikey that they hadn't seen Gerard because he walked in on Pedicone fucking another dude, and Gerard had been crying in Mikey's bed for three days straight.
Pedicone screwed Gerard over, and in the worse possible way you could screw Gerard over, and Frank just -
"Fuck." He runs his hands through his hair, tugging on it for a few seconds. "I fucking trusted him." His face runs hot every time he thinks about all the stuff Pedicone knows about him, everything he'd trusted him with, how he'd really thought he was an upstanding guy, and that he was good for Gerard. "Mikey says he didn't even try to apologize. That he ran after Gerard, but all he said was that he didn't think Gerard was coming home early that night." Pedicone had been doing it for months, apparently. If not all along, the entire time he and Gerard had been together.
"I know." Jamia's mouth is tight. "He's a dickbag."
Frank thinks she wants to punch Pedicone almost as much as he does. He's pretty sure they have nowhere near enough vodka for this.
***
Jamia does a shot with Frank, then heads into the bedroom. He hears her rummaging around in there, and then she comes out with a pair of her pajama pants and her Black Flag t-shirt. Frank looks at them, then up at her. She shrugs. "He's not gonna fit into your stuff."
Frank shrugs back. It's true enough. Gerard is almost as curvy as Jamia.
Jamia waits until the water shuts off in the bathroom - for someone who doesn't seem to like cleanliness, Gerard sure stayed in there long enough - and goes and knocks on the door. "Here," she says, when Gerard opens it a crack, and pushes the clothes through to him.
"Thank you," Frank hears faintly, then, "...cool shirt."
Frank and Jamia are on couch in the living room, halfway through their first beers and arguing about the Real Housewives. Jamia's heatedly arguing on behalf of Dina Manzo (which Frank can't wrap his head around) with her toes tucked under Frank's thigh, when Gerard shuffles in. Frank lifts his chin and hands him the opened beer from the table.
"Thanks." Gerard sinks down to the floor beside the couch, holding the beer against his chest. His hair is hanging damp and tangled in his face, but his cheeks are flushed red with heat, instead of tears, and he'd emerged in a cloud of the scent of Jamia's favorite body wash - it smells like oranges, sweet and fresh. Jamia's pajama pants are a little too short on him, but everything fits.
Jamia looks at him for a second, then back at Frank. "Maybe we need to start with shots."
Gerard doesn't even look up at their voices, too busy looking into the neck of his beer bottle like the answer to the universe is hidden at the bottom.
Frank sighs. "We definitely need to start with shots."
He lines up the glasses on the table, fills them full, one-two-three. He has to nudge Gerard's shoulder with his knee to get him to pick his up, but when Gerard finally looks up, he nods several times in a row and reaches for a shot.
Frank raises his glass and opens his mouth, but he can't think of what to toast to. Gerard's looking at him, his eyes still a little swollen behind his tangled bangs, and Frank gets that surge of fucking anger through his bloodstream, hot and fierce. He wants to toast to Pedicone's fucking dead body, that's what he wants to toast to.
"To the twentieth anniversary of Nevermind," Jamia says, holding her glass up, and Gerard breaks into a surprised giggle, and even Frank snorts a little.
"I'll drink to that," he says and then three of them clink glasses and throw back.
***
"The thing of it is," Gerard is saying to Frank. "The thing of it is, I thought we had a - I thought we had a thing. I trusted him."
"I did too." Frank's had enough vodka that he's pretty fucking loose. He takes a long sip of beer, the tilts the bottle, pointing it at Gerard. "He seemed like he was a good guy."
"He really did," Gerard said miserably, from where he's sitting on the floor in front of Jamia on the couch. "I really thought so."
"He never really did it for me." Jamia's got her fingers in Gerard's hair, working out the damp tangles real patiently. Gerard had scooted right up in front of her when she beckoned him, and he ducks his head now as she works on a knot at the back of his head.
Frank looks over at Jamia from his end of the couch.
She shrugs, squinting down at Gerard's hair. "He didn't. I don't know. Something about him."
"You never said." Frank takes a sip of his beer, then frowns, reaches for the vodka again.
Jamia looks up at him, shrugs again.
Frank frowns harder, and pours a set of shots.
Gerard picks at the hem of his pajama pants. "You're really smart about these things," he says, his voice envious and sad.
"I'm not," Jamia says matter of factly. "Just sometimes, you have a feeling."
"I felt like I was in love with him." Gerard twists around a little to look up at her, like he's confessing something.
"I know, princess." Jamia scrunches her fingers in Gerard's hair and he sighs, settles back down. "Did you even condition?"
"I always condition!" Gerard sounds offended.
"What, the six times a year you shower?" Jamia's still gently working out the vicious knot at the back of Gerard's head and Gerard's smiling a little as he bats at her over his shoulder.
"I just can't get the tangles out by myself." Gerard looks up when Frank holds out the shot glass. "Thanks, Frankie."
"Sure." Frank and Gerard wait until Jamia finally works out the last knot, victorious, and leans forward to grab her own shot. Her boobs are pressed forward against Gerard as she does so, and Gerard's face is a fucking picture as he glances up at Frank.
Frank just holds up his shot glass. "To Jamia," he says, "And how smart she is." It comes out more hollow than he meant it. He did mean it, she is smart, but.
"To Jamia," Gerard says, twisting around to toast her and nearly getting a face-full of tit in the process.
"To me." Jamia pets Gerard's head a little, distracted, looking at Frank.
Frank shrugs, drinks, the shot burning on the way down. Jamia and Gerard follow suit.
"Do you -" Gerard starts, then cuts himself off, biting his lip.
"What?" Jamia asks.
"Do you think I'm stupid?" Gerard's voice is steady, as he looks down into his empty shot glass. "For trusting him?"
"Fuck," Frank says, "Then we're both fucking idiots."
"You're not stupid," Jamia says after a beat, looking back and forth between the two of them. "Pedicone being a lying, cheating asswipe doesn't have anything to do with you guys."
Gerard winces a little bit when she says his name, and she sighs and pokes his shoulder. "C'mere," she says, and tugs on his arm until he heaves himself up off the floor and onto the couch beside her. He's a little unsteady getting up and when Frank looks at the level of vodka in the bottle, he can see why.
Jamia's got her arm around Gerard, tugging his head down to rest on her chest. He gives this big sigh and sort of just melts down beside her. Frank knows the feeling. Her boobs have, like, magic healing powers.
"You're not stupid," Jamia says again, this time looking directly at Frank. "He's the stupid one. He's an idiot."
She sounds fierce, pissed off. She reaches for her beer with the hand that's not holding onto Gerard, takes an angry gulp.
"I trusted him, too." Frank hadn't planned to say it. Maybe he's had too much vodka, too.
Gerard looks over at him with one damp eye.
"I thought he was a good guy." Frank's hands are in fists on his thighs and his chest feels tight. He might need to go outside to punch something. "I thought he was a buddy. I fucking told him things."
Jamia glances up at him real quick and Frank feels his face flush. "I hate that motherfucker."
"I hate that motherfucker too," Gerard echoes quietly, his voice flat, and sad. He takes a deep breath, and then another, and then tears are rolling down his cheeks again.
"Okay," Jamia says, petting his head. "Okay, just -" She tugs on him, and he buries his face against her again, crying quietly. Frank can see his shoulders shaking with it, and he really, really might have to go outside and hit something.
"More beer," Jamia says, over Gerard's head. She's looking at Frank, sort of just tired, and Frank makes himself unclench his hands, and nods, getting up from the couch.
He takes his time getting the beers open and stands there in the kitchen, watching the darkness out the window over the sink for a minute, drinking his beer. Whenever he thinks about all the shit he told Pedicone over the months, how much he'd trusted him, how much Pedicone knows about him, his whole body gets run over with this wave of fucking fury, like he can't even breathe through it.
It's beyond the fucking telling of it. He trusted the guy, and all along, Pedicone had been lying - to Gerard, to Frank, to everyone. He'd dicked over his friend. Dicked over Gerard. Gerard who never hurt anybody, unless you counted throwing up on your shoes every now and again. And Frank never even got the chance to punch Pedicone in the face. Just once, he thinks. Just once, maybe twice, and he'd feel better. A little.
He takes a deep breath and scoops up the open beers from the counter. When he gets back to the living room, Gerard has his head on Jamia's shoulder, but he's stopped crying, at least. Jamia's got her hand tangled in Gerard's hair and she's talking to him quietly.
Frank puts the beers down on the table and sits on the couch beside them. Jamia looks at him over Gerard's head and her face is sad, too. Frank fucking hates Mike Pedicone.
"It's okay," he says, pressing his shoulder against Gerard's a little bit. "It's gonna be okay. You can't waste any more time on that fucker."
Gerard sniffs, and swallows. "No one's ever gonna love me."
"Shut the fuck up," Frank says, at the same time that Jamia smacks Gerard's arm lightly. "We love you." His face gets hot immediately after the words are out. Gerard's looking at him all grateful but Jamia's grinning at him. Frank rolls his eyes at her, all, I know, I know, shut up.
"You do, right?" Gerard twists around to face Jamia, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "I can trust you guys. Right?"
It's killing Frank that Gerard sounds uncertain.
"Don't be a dumbass," Jamia says impatiently, and then she flicks a glance at Frank before putting her hand on Gerard's cheek and kissing him on the mouth. It's a soft kiss, but not just a friendly one - Frank can see that from here. No tongue, but definite intent. It's - weird. Frank's never seen Jamia kiss anyone but he knows this kiss. Her mouth open a little bit, and he knows how soft and hot her lips are when she kisses like this.
It's so weird. He watches her do that, kiss Gerard, and he knows he should be jealous or something, but - it's Gerard. It's as impossible to imagine being jealous of Gerard as it is to be embarrassed in front of him. He's Gerard.
Gerard sinks into the kiss, slack in Jamia's arms, his head tilted up, his mouth open a little bit, too, just sort of letting her, the same way he let her comb out his hair or rest his head on her tits.
And Frank is just watching, and it should be weirder than it is. After a minute, Gerard sort of jerks back, real sudden, and twists around, staring at Frank over his shoulder. His eyes are wide and his lips are wet (from kissing. From kissing Jamia.) and he's staring at Frank like he's looking for permission.
Frank looks at Gerard and shrugs one shoulder. If he's looking for permission, Frank sure as hell isn't the person to ask.
Gerard blinks at him. "I wasn't - I mean, I didn't - are you -"
Frank takes a long, slow sip of his beer, looking at Jamia over the top of his bottle.
Gerard twists back around to face her, his hands flapping worriedly as he watches her face. Jamia's watching Frank across the couch and after a second, she pushes her hand into Gerard's hair, tugging on it as she brings his mouth back to hers. She's really kissing him, then, like, full-on making out, and Gerard's hands are sort of flailing on either side of her for a minute before he hangs on to her shoulders. "Are you," he's mumbling against her mouth. "Listen, is this -"
Frank can't believe he's talking even through this.
Jamia clearly agrees, because she makes a noise in her throat and pushes Gerard back.
"Sorry," he pants. "Sorry, sorry, I - "
"Shut up," she says and then shuts him up by climbing on top of him.
Frank's just watching, clutching his beer bottle in his sweaty hand, as Jamia straddles Gerard's lap, pressing down against him and kissing him, hard. Gerard is finally quiet, his hands clinging to her hips, his head tilted back against the couch.
When Jamia pulls back, Gerard is flushed and breathless and she grins down at him, looking smug and self-satisfied.
"Hi," Gerard says, sounding stunned.
"Hello," Jamia says. She squirms around, reaching behind her for the bottle of vodka, and Frank can't help but grin as he watches Gerard's eyes flutter closed. He knows exactly how that feels.
Jamia takes a shot from the bottle, and Frank watches her throat move as she swallows. There's a small trickle of vodka from the corner of her mouth and she doesn't wipe it off before she leans in to kiss Gerard again. Gerard makes a small noise in his throat.
Frank knows what that kiss is like, too - vodka-sharp and hot. His dick is hard now and he shifts a little on the couch, still watching.
Jamia, not breaking the kiss, holds out the bottle to Frank, its neck loose in her fingers, dangling. When Frank takes it from her, she breaks off the kiss with Gerard, turning to watch him. Gerard, his mouth wet and red and panting, his eyes dark and confused, does the same.
Frank lifts the bottle to his lips, takes a pull, feels the hot, smooth burn of it as he swallows. Jamia's moving a little against Gerard, rocking up against him, and Gerard's got his hands on her hips now, breathing heavy, but still watching Frank.
The two of them are just looking at him, and Jamia's eyes are dark and drunk - her eye make-up is smudged and she's got that measuring, wanting look to her.
Frank just sits for a second. He takes another small sip from the bottle, holds it in his mouth for a second before swallowing.
"C'mon," he says, pushing himself to his feet. He screws the top back on the bottle, but hangs on to it as he reaches out with his other hand to tug Jamia to her feet. "Bedroom."
"Fuck, yeah," Jamia says. She pushes in close, kissing Frank and - she tastes a little different, she tastes like...Gerard, he guesses. Frank's heart is beating fast and he's really not fucking sure of what they're doing right now.
Gerard's still sitting on the couch, clutching his hands in his lap, gazing up at them. His eyes are wide and his lips are still wet from kissing.
"Come on," Frank says and when Gerard just blinks up at him, he gives him a grin. "Come on," he says again, more softly, and Gerard nods slowly, then staggers up, slipping his hand into Jamia's and hanging on tight.
Frank goes into the bedroom first, his hand going out to flip the light switch automatically before he hesitates and leaves it off. He's pretty sure where this is headed and he's pretty sure he doesn't want everything to be brightly lit. He flips on the lamp on the dresser instead, and puts the bottle of vodka down on the bedside table, positioning it with more care than it probably needs. He's pretty drunk, but he's got this adrenaline rush that's bleeding the feeling from his system - he's way too aware of everything.
Gerard looks like he's trying to hang back awkwardly, but Jamia's not letting it happen. "Come on," she says gently, not releasing his hand. "Come here, I want you to."
Gerard shoots another nervous look at Frank. "I -" He drags his free hand through his messy hair, tugging on it. "I don't -"
Frank looks at him for a minute, then shrugs, and gets on the bed. He sits up against the headboard, one knee drawn up, and tilts his head at both of them. "You guys suck at this. Get on the motherfucking bed."
Jamia laughs, loud and delighted, and even Gerard cracks a tiny smile.
Jamia knees her way up onto the bed, settling down beside Frank. Gerard follows suit, slower and more awkward, curling up on his side close behind Jamia, his eyes on Frank.
"Better?" Jamia asks Frank, arching an eyebrow at him.
"Almost," he says, and pulls her close, kissing her, a little sloppy.
She sighs happily and pushes forward against him, wrapping her hand in the sleeve of his t-shirt and tugging him close against her. Frank keeps his eyes closed, slides his hand up her hip, concentrating on this and only this.
When he pulls back, breathless, Gerard is still curled on his side, watching them intently. He's got his knees pulled up in front of him and his head propped on his hand, and the color on his cheeks is high and red. "You're so fucking pretty together," he says. "Like that."
Frank snorts. "My ass."
Jamia smiles. "Yeah, that's pretty, too."
Gerard giggles, and Jamia slides her hand down Frank's back, giving his - apparently pretty - ass a squeeze. She kisses him again, lightly this time, and flashes him a quick look before sitting up and wiggling out of her t-shirt. The bra she has on is black, and the fabric is stretched, barely containing her, her breasts practically spilling out over the cups. When Frank glances over at Gerard, he has his mouth open and he's breathing so quickly he's almost panting and his eyes are looking nowhere near Jamia's face. Frank really can't blame him.
"Can I -" Gerard starts, then has to stop and swallow. His voice is high-pitched and weird. "Can I - I mean, would you let me -"
Jamia grins at him, but her eyes are soft. "Anything you want, Gee."
Frank sort of expects him to go for them face-first but Gerard just pushes himself up to sitting, tucking his legs underneath himself so he can reach forward, and traces his fingertips carefully over the full curves of Jamia's tits. He's touching them really softly, running his fingers along the stretched-out line of her bra where they're spilling over. His eyes are focused down on them, and his teeth are digging into his lip as he touches her.
"You're just so -" He breaks off, tucking the fingertips of one hand just inside her bra. "So fucking perfect." Jamia's nipples are hard and obvious through the fabric of her bra, and when Frank is able to bring his eyes to her face, she's flushed and her breath is coming fast. She shoots a glance over at Frank, her eyes all, can you believe this shit?, but all Frank can do is look at her face and nod, because - yeah. Yeah, he can, because yeah, she is perfect.
Jamia closes her eyes and when Frank looks down, Gerard has his mouth on her nipple. He's tugged down the cup of her bra, and his mouth is on her, his other hand curved delicately around her other breast. He's - that's - Frank can't stop watching, as Gerard mouths at her, then pulls back, and off, leaving her nipple wet and hard. Gerard looks at it for a second, then leans in again, tugging the nipple into his mouth. Jamia groans deep in her throat and reaches out her hand to fist Frank's shirt, and Frank knows Gerard is biting her nipple.
Gerard glances up at Jamia's face, then goes back to it, biting down a little more. Jamia's got her eyes closed, her face twisted against Frank and she's panting damply against his chest. He reaches out and touches Gerard's shoulder and Gerard takes his mouth off of Jamia instantly, backing off and looking up at Frank.
"No, just - " Frank nudges Jamia forward, undoing the clasp of her bra.
Jamia goes, "Yeah, fucking yeah," and shrugs out of it immediately, tossing it aside. She sits up to do it, and her breasts spill out right in Gerard's face and he looks so shocked that Frank can't help but laugh.
"They're pretty fucking awesome, right?" Frank says.
Gerard looks up at him, blushing but not really able to keep his eyes off of her tits for long. He has one hand curved protectively under one of them, holding it up, and Frank's not sure he's even aware he's doing it. "Yeah. They are. Yes. Jesus fucking Christ."
Jamia shifts against both of them, and they both turn to her immediately. "Would one of you maybe want to do something, or -"
Gerard has his face buried in her cleavage before she can finish the sentence, holding both her breasts together now and just breathing them in. "You just -" he says, muffled. "You smell so fucking good. You're so soft and these are so great and you're so -" He trails off, moving back to lick at her nipple. "So - "
"Fuck." Jamia squirms back against Frank and Frank's been peripherally aware of his hard-on since they were back on the couch, but now he's fucking rock-hard in his jeans and he can't even catch his breath. "Fucking just -"
She moves forward, squeezing Frank's hand for a second before pushing Gerard onto his back and climbing on top of him. The look she shoots Frank is positively gleeful and dirty and then she's kissing the fuck out of Gerard and grinding down against him. Jamia's sweatpants are pulled tight over her hips and ass and her tits are pressed down against Gerard and Frank's just - he's not used to seeing her from this angle, not used to seeing how she looks when she kisses, how dark her eyelashes are against her cheeks, how her mouth is so pornographic, how she's just going at it, fucking climbing Gerard, straddling him, angling her hips to grind down against him.
Gerard's moaning and his hands are holding on to her hips, and every time she thrusts down against him, he makes this gasping noise, and Frank's - he doesn't know where to look or what to do or even just -
Jamia sits up, breathing hard and bracing herself with her hands on Gerard's chest. Gerard just lies there, hands still clutched on her hips, looking completely fucking desperate. Jamia, her mouth open a little, lips red and wet, leans forward and grabs Frank's shoulder, dragging him up and towards her. She pulls him in, kissing him rough and hard, moaning into his mouth as she rocks down against Gerard.
Frank's so fucking hard and stupid with it that he doesn't know what to even fucking do. He just kisses her back, wet and messy, and she's making that sound in the back of her throat, like she wants him in her, now, now, now.
But there's - he's - Gerard is right there and Jamia's obviously pressed right up against his dick and this is supposed to be about - fuck, Frank doesn't even know anymore. About making Gerard feel better.
"Oh," Gerard's saying now. No - moaning. "Oh God. Yeah - you guys, just - I want - " He rolls up with his hips and pushes Jamia up and off, towards Frank.
Jamia slips easily onto Frank's lap and oh fuck, yeah, she is so fucking hot up against him, even through the sweatpants, he can feel her, feel how hot she is, and he can't - he can't wait, he doesn't even care that Gerard is right next to them, watching. He just slides his hands in the waist of the pants and pushes them over her ass, down her thighs. And fuck, they're caught between them. He growls in frustration and rolls her over so she lands between him and Gerard again.
Frank's up on his knees, dragging her sweatpants all the way off, tossing them aside. She's got on her boy-briefs, cherry-red and snug around her hips. He wants to take them off with his teeth.
She's looking up at him, grinning, and she hooks her fingers in the waist of her briefs, wriggling out of them. They leave uneven lines on her hips, and fuck, he wants to get his mouth on her.
He manages to get his belt open, and his jeans undone. Jamia's spread-out in front of him and she looks so fucking wrecked, already, her hair half-out of her pigtails, her mouth open, and Jesus, oh fuck, her hand is between her legs, her fingers working, and as much as he wants to fuck her, he needs to taste her first, fuck, he wants his face in there.
He slides his hands up her thighs, squeezing them, and she shudders and moans under him, going, "Do it, Jesus, fucking do it, fuck, Frank, I need your mouth, I need your -"
Gerard makes a short choking sound beside them and when Frank glances over at him, he's shoving his pajama pants - Jamia's pajama pants - down. Frank gets a quick glimpse of Gerard's dick, hard and dark, standing up over his stomach, before he gets Jamia's legs up over his shoulders and his face down between them.
And oh God, oh yeah, there is nothing like this, nothing at all. Jamia's thighs are tight and soft around his face, and her pussy is under his lips, against his tongue, and he's licking her, he's sucking her, as far up in there as he can. She's so fucking wet and he wants her so fucking bad, and he's getting his tongue inside her as far as it’ll go, just eating her out. She's got her hand in his hair, tight, yanking him to her.
She's closer than he thought she would be, this soon in - she's not rocking up against him - she's holding still, letting him get a rhythm going, her thighs going even tighter around his face as he does it. His dick is so fucking hard, pressed up against the bed, and he's trying to ignore it, focus on this, on her, on the hardness of her clit against his tongue, on the rhythm of his licking, of her voice, cursing loudly up above him.
"Fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, Jesus, Frank, there, don't fucking stop, don't fucking stop, I - " She sucks in a breath, her stomach going tight under his fingers, and then she's shuddering against his face, moaning so loud he feels it under his tongue, and coming, sweet and sharp, against his face.
He only stops licking it up when she pushes him back, and when he lifts his face from between her thighs, he's wet with her.
"Jesus," Gerard says, sounding shaky and breathless from beside them. "Jesus, you guys, you're so - so fucking -"
He's got his hand around his dick and he's stroking himself - slowly, but fuck, even Frank can tell how he's holding himself back, trying to make it last. And - Frank can't help but blink down at Gerard's cock, because, fuck. He's fucking big. Like. Big.
Frank blinks again and drags his eyes back up to Gerard's face because staring at his dick, yeah, that's kind of weird. And, like, he'd known Gerard was pretty big, it was obvious in the tight fucking jeans he wore, and he'd seen him after he'd been making out with Pedicone in the alley and -
Ugh. Pedicone, and Gerard's face when he looked at him, beaming and trusting, and Jesus fuck, Frank wants to fuck that guy up, real bad.
He shakes his head, settles for just grinning at Gerard and jerking his head down to where Gerard's hand is still wrapped around his own dick. "Fuck, dude, you're packing that in your jeans? Where do you fucking put it?"
Gerard giggles, and blushes, big time, which is ridiculous considering he's been jerking himself off while Frank ate Jamia out. "I'm not - I mean, it's not that big."
"Uh-huh," Frank says skeptically, and then they're all three of them suddenly cracking up, Jamia giggling breathlessly beneath him. The situation is so ridiculous and so insane, but somehow, Frank feels light, like some tension has left him.
Then he remembers that yeah, he's kneeling up over Jamia with his pants open, and his dick is so fucking hard, and all he wants to do is put it in her already. Jamia's still giggling under him, completely naked and so fucking gorgeous, all curves - all breasts and belly and thighs and Christ, he just wants to sink inside her.
But. He's sort of - Gerard is right there, watching, and Frank's just not sure how this is supposed to fucking go.
He hesitates, his hand wrapped against his own dick.
Then Gerard whispers, "Can you - I mean, can you guys -"
When Frank looks over at him, Gerard’s eyes are dark again, and he's running his fingers over his stomach, under his shirt. His gaze are darting back and forth between Jamia, sprawled out on the bed, and Frank kneeling over her - his gaze definitely drops down below waist level, and definitely stays there for a little while, eyeing Frank’s dick where it's pushing out hard against his briefs.
"Say it," Jamia says. She's got her head tilted in Gerard's direction and now that she's taken the edge off, she sounds sleepy, rough. Sexy.
"Anything," Frank offers. His stomach flips over after the word is out, but he just swallows, and lifts his chin up, because Gerard looks nervous, and unsure.
Gerard shoots him a look that Frank's just not sure how to read, and Jamia's gazing up at him, too, her eyes curious.
Frank shrugs, feeling his face get hot. He doesn't know what he's doing. They don't any of them know. "Whatever." He shifts a little on his knees. "I mean -"
Gerard's moving forward before Frank can figure out the words. When Frank looks at him, Gerard stops for a second before he leans in and kisses him.
Like.
On the lips.
Frank doesn't jerk back. Mostly because he's drunk. And surprised. And this is about Gerard. And he had said anything, and he doesn't pussy out but -
It's only a couple of seconds long and when Gerard pulls back, his eyes are questioning. "Sorry?" he says. "I just...wanted to see what it was like."
"You've kissed guys before," Frank says stupidly.
"Yeah." Gerard looks at him. "But I haven't kissed you."
"Oh." Frank's heart is beating way too fucking fast and he really, really needs another drink. When he turns to reach for the vodka, Jamia has it in her hand, ready for him. She hands it over without a word, and he takes one shot, then another, and he's barely swallowed before Gerard surges back in and kisses him again. It's more, this time, his mouth open a little, not, like, sticking his tongue in, but it's more than a few seconds.
Frank's not gay, and he doesn't - this isn't what he does, or has ever done. But Jamia's eyes had been curious, and skeptical, and he's not fucking backing down. He pushes his hand into Gerard's hair, and Gerard makes a little sound and opens his mouth more, and Frank kisses him. Really kisses him. Because kissing is just kissing and it isn't a big deal. Yeah, there's tongue, and it's not that different. It's not that bad. Gerard tastes like smoke and vodka, and he's not pushing things, he's letting Frank take the lead.
When Frank pulls back, Gerard's eyes are closed and his mouth is open and wet. It takes him a second to stop leaning in and blink his eyes open.
Frank licks his lips. Jesus, his dick didn't go down at all, he's still hard as hell. He looks over at Jamia. She's staring at him, biting her lip, her eyes wide and hot and fucking surprised. He glares. "What?"
"That was so fucking hot." Her voice is rough and she's staring at him, her eyes really fucking wide and turned-on.
Frank shrugs, feeling his cheeks get warm. Whatever.
Gerard bites his lip, staring at Frank. "You smell like Jamia," he says.
Frank knows he does; her pussy is all over his face. He looks at Gerard. "You smell like Jamia's shampoo."
Gerard smiles, sudden and bright, and drags his own hair forward, sniffing it. "She always smells so good."
Frank nods. "I'm not gay." That wasn't what he'd meant to say.
Gerard nods, smiling. "I know. I just - wanted to try it. With you." He tilts his head, looks down at Jamia. "He's a really good kisser."
Jamia's nodding, too, her gaze hot and hungry. "He really fucking is."
Frank's heart is still beating way too fast and he can't quite figure out where this is going and maybe this wasn't the greatest idea in the world -
"I want to watch you," Gerard says, slowly. "Both of you. Can I? Is that - I mean - "
Jamia looks up at Frank, cocking her eyebrow. "Can he?"
Frank's all sorts of relieved. He didn't even know he'd been worried, really, but that's just - he's really, really okay with it. "Sure." He thinks he manages to sound cool, even.
But Jamia's laughing at him, so maybe not.
"Shut up," he says, pulling his t-shirt off over his head. He gets his hand inside his jeans before it hits him that he's about to pull his dick out in front of Gerard. They've definitely drunkenly pissed in front of each other before - Gerard has definitely drunkenly pissed on Frank's shoe, even - but this is different. It's just -
Jamia's staring at him from the bed. Where she's, yeah, spread out naked and she's got no problems with it, so -
"Stop being a pussy and whip it out," she says.
Frank does.
Gerard's watching - no, Gerard's looking, he's not even just checking Frank out, he's pretty much staring, and Frank's face is hot, but he just wraps one hand around himself, jacking himself a little bit. He's fucking hard and ready.
He's leaking a little and he swipes his thumb over the tip, rubbing it back down over his dick to give it a little slide.
Gerard makes a soft noise and when Frank glances up, he's got his mouth open, watching Frank's hand on his cock.
Jamia's watching, too, and she still looks a little amused, but she's shifting underneath him, nudging him out of the way so she can spread her legs. "Fuck, you guys," she says softly. "Your fucking faces." She shifts up onto her knees. "Is this okay?" she asks, nudging Frank back to sit against the headboard. "I wanna ride you."
"Yeah," Frank replies, breathless, because - yeah. He pushes his jeans the rest of the way down, kicks them off. He doesn't care that Gerard is looking, he doesn't care. It doesn't matter, because Jamia is moving up, straddling him. She grabs the bottle of vodka from the bedside table and takes a long sip. Her tits are gorgeous, right in his fucking face as she tilts her head back to drink. She swallows, then wipes her mouth off with the back of her hand and kisses him, hot and stinging.
"Fuck me," she says against his lips, softly.
"God." Frank reaches for her hips. "God, yeah, get on me already."
She's sinking down on him, taking it real slow. Maybe it's a kind of show for Gerard, but from the look on her face, and the way her teeth are sunk into her lower lip, maybe not. She's fucking wet, and her nipples are hard and tight, and he can't help thrusting up into her when she's almost all the way down.
"Fuck," she grits out, falling forward to brace herself on his chest with her hands. "Fuck, yeah." She grinds down against him, rocking a little bit, and he groans and tries to just stay still and hang on - he knows she's looking for just the right angle.
His heart is beating fucking fast, and he can feel Gerard’s eyes on them, can hear the soft sound of skin-on-skin, knows that Gerard is jerking himself off as he watches them. Jesus, fuck, it should be so fucking weird and wrong, but Jamia is so fucking tight around him, hot and so, so wet. Oh God, she's got the angle now, moaning deep in her chest. Her head falls forward, her hair mostly out of the pigtails now, hanging over her face as she presses herself down, tight and steady.
She goes at it like this when she's too fucking hot for it to hold herself back. It gets her off fast and hard and Frank fucking loves it. She's riding him hard and tight now, fucking relentless, rocking against him, holding him down with hips and hands, and he can't even fucking move to fuck up into her.
"Jesus," Gerard mutters from next to him. "Frankie, just -"
And God, that's weird, Gerard calling him Frankie when he's balls-deep in Jamia and she's fucking him so hard he can't even think.
"Frankie," Gerard says again, his voice tight and stuttering. "Fuck, look at her. She's so close already."
Jamia laughs breathlessly, shoving her hand through her hair so it's out of her face for a second. She's flushed and gorgeous, tight and hot around Frank's dick, and she is close, Gerard's right. She's driving herself towards it and Jesus, Frank's glad, because he's not going to be able to hold on much longer. His hands are sweaty, slipping on Jamia's round hips, and it's taking everything he's got to just keep moving his hips in tiny thrusts that don't mess with her rhythm, when all he wants to do is fuck into her as hard and fast as he can.
He holds on, though, and she's closer now, oh fuck yeah, fucking losing it, her fingers digging into his chest so fucking perfect as she grits out, "Fuck fuck fuck fuck," and comes, losing the rhythm as she shakes hard, shoving herself down onto him and holding it, grinding against him so hard he thinks he could come if she stayed there another few seconds.
"Jesus Christ," Gerard breathes faintly off to the side.
"Jesus Christ," Frank echoes, and bucks his hips up hard.
"Do it," Jamia demands breathlessly. "Fucking do it."
He growls and lifts her off of him, and she lands on her back beside him.
Gerard draws in a sharp breath, and as Frank scrambles up and over, feeling like his cock is fucking leading the way, he catches a glimpse of Gerard's face, cheeks red, mouth open, looking like he's pretty fucking close himself.
Frank can't think about it, can't think about Gerard so close beside them as he wraps one hand around Jamia's thigh, drawing it up as he sinks into her. "Fuck," he pants. "Fuck, fuck, Jesus, J, you're so fucking wet."
"Harder," she says. Her head is thrown back and sweat is beading her neck, and she's got her hands on his ass, dragging him in. "Fuck yeah."
He's fucking her as hard and fast as he can, trying to just hold on, show some stamina. She blinks her eyes open, looks up at him all hazy and hot, then turns her head to the side. She's watching Gerard, and Frank just - he can't help but turn his head, too, to see what she's seeing.
Gerard's hand is on his dick, yeah, but he's not doing it fast and hard the way Frank kind of figured he would be by now, after all that fucking watching. His eyes are wide and he doesn't look embarrassed or weirded-out by...them watching him watching them. He's right beside them and he's actually - watching their faces, which is a little weird, and Frank wonders, for a second, what he looks like when he's fucking Jamia like this, deep and hot and desperate.
Jamia reaches out and runs her hand through Gerard's messy hair. "Don't come yet," she says. "Okay?"
"I won't," Gerard promises immediately. Frank's not sure how anyone could say no to Jamia, when her voice is so throaty and serious like that. She tugs on Gerard's hair and his eyes flutter closed.
She grins. "Good." She turns back to Frank. She's lifting her hips up, growling at him, dragging him down. He's on his elbows now, and he's fucking lost in this, driving into her and maybe fucking whimpering, he can't tell, because she's right up against him, hot and sweaty, reeking of sex, and she's whispering in his ear, "Fuck me, Jesus, Frank, so fucking hard." Her voice gets lower, hotter. "Show him. Show him. Show him how good, how fucking good you are."
Frank's shaking, gasping, and he's so fucking aware of Gerard's eyes on him, of Jamia all around him, of how bad he wants to do this, wants to come inside her. He's got his face buried in her shoulder, tasting her sweat and skin, and he shoves himself inside her again, and again, and comes, moaning and shuddering against her skin.
"Fuck yeah." She sounds so fucking satisfied, like the cat who ate the fucking canary. "Fuck yeah."
He grinds into her one more time, and it's almost too much, but so good he doesn't want it to stop. She holds him there, doesn't let him pull out - she likes feeling him go soft inside of her, and he's too fucked out to care that now Gerard will know that, as well.
He finally pulls out and rolls off of her. She's in between him and Gerard, and Gerard is on his side, up on one elbow, breathing hard, his hand around his dick, not quite stroking himself, more just holding on, holding back. His eyes are heavy and hot and he's biting his lip. "Jesus," he mutters, like he's talking to himself. "You're just all - fuck, so pretty together, so - I just wanna -"
Frank's pretty sure that, Gerard being Gerard, he's about to say he wants to draw them. His hand - the one not holding his dick - is even moving a little bit in that way he gets when he's about to go hunting for his sketchbook.
"You just wanna what?" Jamia asks softly, rolling closer to him.
Gerard blinks, looks startled, like he'd sort of forgotten that they were having a fucking threeway. "I -" He stops to clear his throat. "I want -"
"Yeah?" Jamia asks, her voice encouraging, but her face pure heat, one eyebrow up. She's got her hand around Gerard's dick before he gets the next word out. Gerard makes a choking noise in his throat, and she grins a little, stroking him and watching his face.
Frank's sprawled out next to them, and he knows this should be weird. He knows it is weird. He gets that, but he's still fucking thrumming with how hard he just came, he's still damp with sweat, he can still taste Jamia on his lips and tongue. He rolls closer, so he's pressed up against her ass, and runs his hand down over her hip, watching over her shoulder as she jerks Gerard off.
He never gets to see it from this angle. Even when she's wearing the strap-on, it's her stroking herself, not - this. From up close, he can feel how hard she's breathing, how much this is turning her on, just from driving Gerard forward, closer, not easing up at all. Gerard's mouth is open, and he's dragging in breaths, a hand on Jamia's shoulder, hanging on tight. He's moving his hips like he can't help it, but he's letting her control the pace, and it's so fucking hot to watch Jamia's face as she watches Gerard, keeping him right on the edge for exactly as long as she fucking wants him to stay there.
And Jesus, Frank's dick is a little interested, even - not hard again, but damn, he could get there with some help. He presses forward against Jamia harder, his eyes heavy, feeling sleepy and fucked-out and turned on all at once.
She's murmuring to Gerard, driving him on with her hand and her words. "Not yet, don't come yet. I want to take you there, and it's going to be so good."
She leans closer, wriggling her soft ass back against Frank - he's too lazy to do more than just press up against her as his dick gets a little bit harder. She shoots him a look out of the corner of her eye. Gerard's watching them both, his face turned-on and flushed, and very close to them. Frank doesn't think about it, he just leans forward over Jamia's shoulder and kisses Gerard, open-mouthed and hard. Gerard makes a sound in his throat and opens up right away.
Jamia lets out this desperate sort of groan, and Frank deepens the kiss, just to see. Gerard tastes like vodka. He's...really good at this, kissing Frank back hot and smooth, taking everything Frank's giving him.
The three of them are this tangle of limbs, with Jamia panting and cursing in between the two of them. Frank's pretty sure Gerard's dick is sliding up against Jamia's thigh, and Gerard's hand is hot and sweaty on Frank's hip. Frank feels drunk again, all at once, like all the adrenaline has bled out of his system and the vodka is hitting him straight on.
"Fuck," Jamia says when Frank finally pulls back to breathe, leaving Gerard's lips wet and red, his eyes blinking open as he pants for breath. "Fucking Christ, you guys, you're so fucking - "
She shoves a hand into Gerard's hair and, dragging his face down to hers, kisses him messy and hot. He's making constant noises now, moaning in his throat, and when she pulls back, he's got his eyes shut, and his face is flushed, and he's moaning, over and over, "Please, please, please."
She twists her hand in his hair, yanks on it, and he shuts his eyes tight, arching back into it, groaning loud, loud. Her hand is fucking relentless on his dick and he's panting, and one hand is still dug into her shoulder, the other fisted in the sheets. Frank's pretty sure Gerard's gonna come any second now, whether Jamia says to or not.
"Fuck," he's panting. "Fuck, fuck. Jamia, fuck, I -"
"Let him come, J," Frank says against Jamia's shoulder.
"Yeah?" she asks, not taking her eyes off of Gerard, but pressing back against Frank a little.
"Yeah," he answers, and she nods, leans in, brushing her lips against Gerard's and says, "Do it. Fucking come."
Gerard cries out and his whole body jerks and he comes, Jesus, all over Jamia's hand, and thigh, and the bed. He's so fucking loud, too, moaning the whole time, like it's killing him, like it's the best thing that ever fucking happened to him, which Frank is pretty sure it really fucking is.
Afterward, Jamia's the one who makes them help her push the covers down, gets them all between the sheets. She cuddles up to Frank, resting her head on his chest and hanging onto his hand while she blinks at him sleepily. Gerard cuddles up to Jamia, his arm around her middle, hanging onto her like she's a teddy bear or something. He's practically asleep, too, but muttering things into Jamia's hair, things like "Thank you" and "Jesus fucking Christ, that was -" and "Love you guys."
Frank's tired too, but it takes him the longest fucking time to fall asleep. His brain won't stop, won't slow down, long after Jamia's head on his chest gets heavier and he knows she's dropped off. He dozes a little, way too fucking aware of Gerard in the bed, and jerks awake only when the covers shift. He opens his eyes to Gerard slipping carefully out of the bed. "Hey," he whispers.
"Hey." Gerard bends down to grab the pajama pants off the floor and Frank quickly shuts his eyes against the flash of white thigh and ass he catches a glimpse of. He opens them cautiously a few seconds later. "Don't take off," he says softly. He doesn't want Gerard heading off into the night, and besides, he'd promised Mikey a full twenty-four hours.
"Just to the couch," Gerard whispers back too loudly, and Jamia mutters in her sleep and rolls over. They both freeze, silent, until she starts breathing steadily again. "It's hard to sleep with someone I'm not used to." He stops, looking at the two of them on the bed. "Uh. I mean. People I'm not used to. Uh." He stops again, scratching his hair. "Maybe I'm just not used to sleeping with more than one person. At a time, I mean."
"It's cool, Gee," Frank cuts him off before Gerard really derails. "Jamia put out sheets and a blanket earlier. By the couch. Go to sleep."
"Yeah." Gerard stands there for another second in the dark, his hand still in his hair. "Thanks, Frankie," he whispers quietly.
"Yeah," Frank whispers back after a second. "Go to bed, Gee."
"Love you," Gerard yawns as he heads out the door, and Frank shakes his head, settling back down and turning the pillow over so it's more comfortable, cool under his cheek.
Jamia sighs in her sleep and kicks him a little as she turns over once again, before settling down. Her hair is in his face, and it smells the way Gerard's did earlier - like strawberries, fresh and clean. He presses his face into it, breathing her in, his eyes suddenly heavy, his head spinning just a little bit.
***
Frank fucks her again in the morning. The sun's barely up, spilling in weakly around the shades, and she's half awake, but moves up against him when he presses his hard dick against her. He rolls on top of her and she spreads her legs right away, kissing him hard as he sinks inside her. He fucks her fast and careful, the two of them swallowing moans and trying so hard to be quiet, not let the bed make noise, barely moving as he rocks into her over and over again. They're wrapped around each other and desperate for it, Jamia whimpering into Frank's mouth as he goes in deep, deep.
He buries his face in her shoulder when he comes, moaning almost silently against her skin. She doesn't let him pull out for a long time. When he does, she bites back a groan deep in her throat, and pulls his hand down between her legs. She's slick with his come and she shakes hard underneath him as he strokes her, sliding his fingers inside and then back up over her clit, over and over again until she's panting open-mouthed at the ceiling, whispering curses as she goes tight around his fingers, and comes, her hand around his wrist, holding his fingers inside her.
He falls asleep wrapped around her, their sweat drying on his skin, and when he wakes up, he's alone in bed and he can smell coffee brewing.
When he stumbles out to the living room, Gerard is still asleep on the couch, curled in on himself, a mass of sheets and blankets hiding him from view.
Jamia's in the kitchen, poised in front of the coffee maker, no slippers on, one foot curled up on top of the other one, away from the freezing kitchen floor. "Hey," she says when she sees Frank. "If this motherfucking coffee doesn't brew any faster, I may actually die. Just FYI."
He swats her on the ass and ducks out of the way of the punch she aims at his stomach. "Go sit," he says. "I'll bring you some."
"Oh thank God." She pads out of the kitchen immediately.
When he makes his way into the living room with a mug in each hand, Jamia's on the end of the couch, having pushed Gerard's feet out of her way, and woken him up in the process, if the grumbling from the other end of the couch is anything to go by. Frank hands Jamia one mug, puts the other on the table, and when he comes back with another one (extra cream, extra sugar), Gerard has emerged from his nest of blankets, his hair a really alarming tangle around his head, eyes unfocused and bleary. He's already got his sight set on Frank's coffee, but Frank swoops in and rescues it by pressing the new mug directly into Gerard's hands.
Gerard looks up at him, half-awake. "Thanks, Frankie," he says gratefully, burying his face in the mug.
Jamia nudges Gerard with her feet until he shifts some more, grumbling, and gets mostly upright, and then she moves over, making room for Frank on the couch. They end up watching Fellowship of the Ring - because quite honestly, Frank can't remember a time where they didn't end up watching Fellowship when Gerard woke up hungover at his place - and Gerard insists on the extended edition.
Frank's a little hungover himself and the couch is warm and all three of them are wrapped up in blankets, because no one wants to get up to turn up the heat, so it's actually pretty okay. Gerard's got his feet tucked under Jamia's thigh, and Jamia's sprawled half across Frank, elbowing him in the stomach a little every time she shifts position, but he doesn't really mind that, either. He's curled around her and her hand is tucked into his, a little sweaty.
They make it up until the council of Elrond before any of them recover enough to be hungry. Jamia scoots out from between them to go get her laptop from the bedroom, and Frank has a handful of seconds where he's blinking down the couch at Gerard and he has not one fucking clue what to say to him. Because he - because they - because of last night. And what Gerard saw. And oh Christ, what is Gerard thinking right now, is he thinking this is something Frank does or -
"Listen, Frank," Gerard says quietly. He's gnawing on one of his cuticles and not making eye contact.
Oh fucking God.
"I'm really sorry about dragging Mike into your life."
Frank's heart starts beating again. "Oh, that," he says without thinking, and then immediately feels like a dick when he sees Gerard still chewing miserably on his hand.
"Yeah." Gerard peers over his knuckles at Frank. "I know that he was - I mean, that you talked to him and were, like, friends with him and stuff, and I'm sorry that he - I mean, that I -"
"Gerard," Frank cuts him off. "I liked him too, okay?" His voice comes out gruffer than he meant it to, but he can't help it. "I thought he was someone I could -" Frank stops, clears his throat. "It was me, too, okay?"
Gerard looks at him, and his eyes are getting sort of damp again, and Frank darts a gaze towards the bedroom, wishing Jamia would come back already. "I -" He sighs. "Fuck," he says finally, scrubbing a hand back through his hair. "I trusted him. I did it, too."
"Yeah," Gerard says after a long moment. He swallows. "I'm sorry I brought him around. I'm sorry I -"
"Shut the fuck up," Frank cuts him off. Because Jesus fucking Christ, that wasn't what Frank meant. "That's not your fault. None of this is your fucking fault. I trusted him because I trusted him. I'm not gonna just go by your opinion, okay?" He pauses. "No offense."
"None taken." Gerard gives Frank a tiny smile. "I love you, Frankie."
He's peering at Frank through the hair falling in his face, and all Frank can do is sigh and say, "I love you too, man, okay?"
Which is, of course, when Jamia comes back in the room with her laptop balanced in one hand. "We're ordering breakfast."
"It's one in the afternoon," Frank says.
"Get bacon," Gerard says.
"Gross." Frank makes a gagging noise as Jamia pushes her way back onto the couch between them, poking decisively at her laptop.
"I ordered a shitload of pancakes," she says. "And two sides of bacon."
Frank glares at her.
"And homefries," she says. "And, like, boysenberry syrup."
"Cool," Gerard says, wriggling down on the couch and tugging the blanket over his knees.
"Also you are both girls." Jamia clicks enter with a flourish and leans forward to put the laptop down on the coffee table.
Frank and Gerard both make angry noises at the cold air she lets in under the blankets.
"Also I used your credit card," she tells Frank, settling back down against his chest.
There's only so mad at her he can be when her tits are pressed against him, so all he does is nod agreeably and press play.
When Mikey shows up at five, the whole apartment smells like syrup and they're not even halfway through The Two Towers. The coffee table is littered with discarded styrofoam containers, and Jamia's snoring in between them.
"Mikey," Gerard says, his voice breaking, but he's beaming at Mikey across the room. "You're here for the best part."
"Cool." Mikey settles down on the floor by Gerard, and Gerard curls up to him, reaching down to clutch at his hand as they all watch Gandalf surge bravely forward with the hobbits.
Jamia mumbles in her sleep a little, and Frank runs a hand through her hair.
They watch 'til the end, and Jamia wakes up with a snort when the music for the end credits swell, jerking her face off of Frank's chest.
"You are the worst dork," he tells her. “You actually slept through Helm’s Deep.”
She wipes the drool off her cheek, and wipes her hand off on his chest. "Fuck you," she says sleepily.
He presses a kiss to her hair before he notices that Gerard is avidly watching, while Mikey is texting something on his phone.
"You guys," Gerard says quietly.
"Shut the fuck up," Frank and Jamia say together.
"You guys," Gerard says, drawing it out, delighted, and they both groan.
Gerard makes a bid for Return of the King, but Mikey nudges him on the shoulder. "Home, Gee," he says.
"Oh." Gerard bites his lip.
"Maybe next weekend," Jamia says. "Okay, princess?"
Gerard looks over at her. "Promise?"
"Promise."
Jamia tells him to wear the pajama pants home. Gerard gives them all hugs in the doorway, looking like a mental patient in his denim jacket, undone combat boots, and J's pajamas. Mikey waits behind him, scrolling through his phone and looking bored, but he bumps fists with Frank after Gerard's done with the hugging, and gives Jamia an actual smile.
Gerard shuffles out the door and Mikey turns back for a second. "Thanks, guys," he says.
When the door shuts behind him, Frank has to resist the urge to slump back against it. He's exhausted. "Hey," he says to Jamia.
"Hey." She leans against his chest. "That was intense."
Her head is heavy on his shoulder. "You okay?" he asks.
"'m good." Her voice is muffled and she yawns hugely. "Think he'll be okay?"
"Yeah." He'd better be. "He got to have Lord of the Rings and a threeway."
Jamia cracks up against his chest.
"If that isn't enough to give a nerd something worth living for, I don't know what is."
Jamia's losing her shit, laughing up at him, bright and loud, and Frank can't help but join in, finally, hanging onto her and giggling like crazy people.
Yeah. They're okay.
the end