Suspension of Disbelief, the end
May. 12th, 2009 04:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lizhanneTitle: Suspension of Disbelief, the end
Rating: PG13 for this part
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
Author’s notes This is it. Still for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
veecious's birthday, still hope you like it, Vee ♥.
Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-syndicated.gif)
ky_betty for the wonderful beta job on this part, and to sourcream_onion, who was there from the beginning, and zephyrina for being amazing and whipping me when I needed it.
For the last time, no altar boys were harmed in the writing of this story. Also, angst.
Disclaimer: this is an AU; you can't get much faker than that, right?
- Part one
- Part two
- Part three
- Part four
- Part five
- Part six
- Part seven
- Part eight
Suspension of Disbelief – Part 9
It’s been three days since Gerard has last seen Frank. He’s spent most of that time trying not to think about what happened, trying to figure out what went wrong and where, but the truth is, Gerard knows he simply was greedy and weak.
Someone might think that the weakness was in letting Frank do what he did, but in his mind, Gerard knows better.
This only makes him more fucking scared of the whole thing, and the more he tries to think, not think, think, not think, think, obsessively not think about it in an endless circle, the more he feels stuck at the beginning.
The truth is that he doesn’t have the strength to do anything that isn’t drifting, as he’s been doing lately. Because anything else, even fucking up his vows good and proper instead of pretending nothing ever happened just because he didn’t reciprocate, would take too much energy.
He wants to be sad about the whole thing, and he is, but his mind is already starting to shut down again, trying to forget. Going back to his old habits, going through the motions all day long without anyone else to worry about, to keep him from falling asleep while he’s talking, was even too easy. He tries to avoid the mirror as much as he can, and he replaces all the lightbulbs.
That first night he’d walked to the diner again, his feet taking him there out of habit, and he’d smoked a cigarette on the other side of the road, watching Frank talk with Ray and sulk in his hoodie when no one was around. He’d left after ten minutes, feeling like a stalker, but relieved to see that Frank didn’t seem to be cracking down. He wishes he’d said more that day, something to make him understand that he’s not a freak, something actually useful instead of making him more upset. Somehow, watching Frank smile grudgingly at one of Ray’s jokes, he thought that maybe he had managed to do that without talking, after all.
On the second night, he took a different route for his walk.
The third day is a Wednesday, and it’s not quite night yet, but the weather outside is reassuringly grey. He feels an itch under his skin, the beginning of that dislocation again. Gerard has no more duties for the day, so he puts on his coat, still damp from the frozen mist outside, and drapes his scarf around his neck.
Frank is right outside, wrapped up in a triple layer of scarf, hoodie and jacket, nervously smoking a cigarette, his left hand buried in the pocket of his jeans.
*
Coming here was hard, and Frank is not completely sure it's the right thing to do. It’s still too soon, the memory is still too fresh, and he’s honestly surprised to find he’s not mad at Gerard when the door opens.
He thought he’s spit out what he has to say like an insult, a veiled “see what you’re missing out on and thanks for nothing, asshole,” but the truth is more complex than that.
The memories are one thing. Seeing Gerard, Frank cannot help but remember how it felt to be warm and safe next to him, what he tasted like in his mouth. Apart from that, just seeing Gerard, having him close, calms him down as always. Staring at anywhere but Gerard’s face, studying the unlit cigarette in his hand and the way he’s worrying the lose thread in his scarf, he takes another drag, coughs, drops the cigarette to the floor and starts talking.
“I’m leaving with Ray and Bob for the city. Bob’s cousin says he can find us all decent jobs and Ray wants to go to college. Maybe I can even finish high school.”
Gerard hesitates for a second, or maybe that’s only in Frank’s mind, but he’s – and this, Frank didn’t expect - smiling when he speaks.
“Good. That’s good. It was time you left this place.”
If there is anything else Frank would have wanted him to say, he puts it safely away in the back of his mind, where it belongs. He’s sure of what he’s doing now, and he came here for a reason, childish revenge fantasies aside.
“I wanted to see you before I left, because there are two things I need to say to you. First, I am sorry.”
He doesn’t mention the reason why he’s sorry, but he knows Gerard understands, he sees it in his suddenly worried look.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to talk about it. But I am sorry, and not only for you.”
The temptation for the small jab was too strong to resist, but he’s not bitter, not really, not now. He’s actually surprised at himself for being so quick to metabolize what happened, and he sort of understands Gerard’s reasons, frustrating as they might be.
“You said two things,” Gerard says, clearly trying to avoid the first subject.
Yes, the main, real reason why Frank came here before leaving his old life without a second glance. He doesn’t know how things are going to be from now on, but he’s sure he couldn’t have done it without the weird, sad man standing in front of him who took Frank’s own sadness and helplessness and turned it into something different.
“Thank you. Just, thank you.”
Frank takes a step forward, his left hand light on Gerard’s arm, the right one touching his face, tentative. He would like to kiss him, but Gerard looks at him, pleading, and shakes his head.
“Frank, no. Please.”
Yes, Frank knows all the reasons why he shouldn’t, even if his arms ache. He hugs him instead, quickly, committing to memory the way Gerard hugs him back, holding him close and instantly letting go.
“I have to go now, Ray and Bob are waiting for me.”
“Yeah, don't make them wait. Let me know how you’re doing sometime, okay?”
“I will.”
Neither of them knows if it’s a promise or a polite lie, but if it is it’s a comforting one, crystallized in the cooling steam of their breaths.
He climbs in the car, looking at Gerard standing in the mist. Ray drives away, and if any of the streetlights go off as they pass, Frank doesn’t notice.
Rating: PG13 for this part
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
Author’s notes This is it. Still for
veecious's birthday, still hope you like it, Vee ♥.Thanks to
ky_betty for the wonderful beta job on this part, and to sourcream_onion, who was there from the beginning, and zephyrina for being amazing and whipping me when I needed it.For the last time, no altar boys were harmed in the writing of this story. Also, angst.
Disclaimer: this is an AU; you can't get much faker than that, right?
- Part one
- Part two
- Part three
- Part four
- Part five
- Part six
- Part seven
- Part eight
Suspension of Disbelief – Part 9
It’s been three days since Gerard has last seen Frank. He’s spent most of that time trying not to think about what happened, trying to figure out what went wrong and where, but the truth is, Gerard knows he simply was greedy and weak.
Someone might think that the weakness was in letting Frank do what he did, but in his mind, Gerard knows better.
This only makes him more fucking scared of the whole thing, and the more he tries to think, not think, think, not think, think, obsessively not think about it in an endless circle, the more he feels stuck at the beginning.
The truth is that he doesn’t have the strength to do anything that isn’t drifting, as he’s been doing lately. Because anything else, even fucking up his vows good and proper instead of pretending nothing ever happened just because he didn’t reciprocate, would take too much energy.
He wants to be sad about the whole thing, and he is, but his mind is already starting to shut down again, trying to forget. Going back to his old habits, going through the motions all day long without anyone else to worry about, to keep him from falling asleep while he’s talking, was even too easy. He tries to avoid the mirror as much as he can, and he replaces all the lightbulbs.
That first night he’d walked to the diner again, his feet taking him there out of habit, and he’d smoked a cigarette on the other side of the road, watching Frank talk with Ray and sulk in his hoodie when no one was around. He’d left after ten minutes, feeling like a stalker, but relieved to see that Frank didn’t seem to be cracking down. He wishes he’d said more that day, something to make him understand that he’s not a freak, something actually useful instead of making him more upset. Somehow, watching Frank smile grudgingly at one of Ray’s jokes, he thought that maybe he had managed to do that without talking, after all.
On the second night, he took a different route for his walk.
The third day is a Wednesday, and it’s not quite night yet, but the weather outside is reassuringly grey. He feels an itch under his skin, the beginning of that dislocation again. Gerard has no more duties for the day, so he puts on his coat, still damp from the frozen mist outside, and drapes his scarf around his neck.
Frank is right outside, wrapped up in a triple layer of scarf, hoodie and jacket, nervously smoking a cigarette, his left hand buried in the pocket of his jeans.
*
Coming here was hard, and Frank is not completely sure it's the right thing to do. It’s still too soon, the memory is still too fresh, and he’s honestly surprised to find he’s not mad at Gerard when the door opens.
He thought he’s spit out what he has to say like an insult, a veiled “see what you’re missing out on and thanks for nothing, asshole,” but the truth is more complex than that.
The memories are one thing. Seeing Gerard, Frank cannot help but remember how it felt to be warm and safe next to him, what he tasted like in his mouth. Apart from that, just seeing Gerard, having him close, calms him down as always. Staring at anywhere but Gerard’s face, studying the unlit cigarette in his hand and the way he’s worrying the lose thread in his scarf, he takes another drag, coughs, drops the cigarette to the floor and starts talking.
“I’m leaving with Ray and Bob for the city. Bob’s cousin says he can find us all decent jobs and Ray wants to go to college. Maybe I can even finish high school.”
Gerard hesitates for a second, or maybe that’s only in Frank’s mind, but he’s – and this, Frank didn’t expect - smiling when he speaks.
“Good. That’s good. It was time you left this place.”
If there is anything else Frank would have wanted him to say, he puts it safely away in the back of his mind, where it belongs. He’s sure of what he’s doing now, and he came here for a reason, childish revenge fantasies aside.
“I wanted to see you before I left, because there are two things I need to say to you. First, I am sorry.”
He doesn’t mention the reason why he’s sorry, but he knows Gerard understands, he sees it in his suddenly worried look.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to talk about it. But I am sorry, and not only for you.”
The temptation for the small jab was too strong to resist, but he’s not bitter, not really, not now. He’s actually surprised at himself for being so quick to metabolize what happened, and he sort of understands Gerard’s reasons, frustrating as they might be.
“You said two things,” Gerard says, clearly trying to avoid the first subject.
Yes, the main, real reason why Frank came here before leaving his old life without a second glance. He doesn’t know how things are going to be from now on, but he’s sure he couldn’t have done it without the weird, sad man standing in front of him who took Frank’s own sadness and helplessness and turned it into something different.
“Thank you. Just, thank you.”
Frank takes a step forward, his left hand light on Gerard’s arm, the right one touching his face, tentative. He would like to kiss him, but Gerard looks at him, pleading, and shakes his head.
“Frank, no. Please.”
Yes, Frank knows all the reasons why he shouldn’t, even if his arms ache. He hugs him instead, quickly, committing to memory the way Gerard hugs him back, holding him close and instantly letting go.
“I have to go now, Ray and Bob are waiting for me.”
“Yeah, don't make them wait. Let me know how you’re doing sometime, okay?”
“I will.”
Neither of them knows if it’s a promise or a polite lie, but if it is it’s a comforting one, crystallized in the cooling steam of their breaths.
He climbs in the car, looking at Gerard standing in the mist. Ray drives away, and if any of the streetlights go off as they pass, Frank doesn’t notice.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-12 07:57 am (UTC)it's really great.
It was so good i wish it was longer.
<3
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-14 06:01 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-13 12:01 pm (UTC)thanks for sharing :)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-14 06:02 am (UTC)I am glad you liked it and I know, poor Gerard, I do hope he'll get better eventually!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-15 08:11 am (UTC)