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Nov. 11th, 2007 05:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wordslingingTitle: In Which Gerard Is a Quirky College Professor and Frank Is the Best TA Ever, 3/3
Fandom: Bandom AU, primarily MCR but cameos from others.
Rating: R
Summary: ...It's all there in the title, really, except to tell you that it's the fault of this photoshoot, and that inspiration/enabling was provided by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
blondiusmaximus
Notes: OH GOD IT'S FINISHED. For a while I was tempted to turn this into a four-parter, so this part's pretty long. This also may not be the last I write in this universe, which I've become very fond of, and I suspect it has a couple more stories lurking around on the edges of this one.
Previous chapters here and here.
Gerard wakes up with a moderate hangover, early-early-morning light seeping through the blinds, and Frank sprawled half on top of him, legs tangled up with Gerard's, mouth open against Gerard's neck.
"...Fuck," Gerard mutters, and Frank mumbles and shifts against him but doesn't wake up, thank God.
It takes almost ten minutes for Gerard to extract himself. This is because he does it slowly and cautiously and freezes like a deer in headlights every time Frank moves or makes a noise, and not because the bed is warm and Frank's skin is smooth and the thought of maybe rolling him over and kissing him awake is seriously tempting Gerard to stay.
Finding his clothes takes another few minutes, during which Frank does not help at all, because he stretches a little and then flops over on his back. The motion exposes the tattoos on his stomach, the ones that Gerard can remember licking last night--Jesus, his sex life hasn't been entirely boring, but he doesn't think he's ever licked anyone's stomach in bed before this, and oh, by the way? He slept with his TA last night.
...He slept with his TA last night and it was possibly the best sex of his life, even though he guesses they haven't technically had sex yet, and oh God, not thinking about that, because he needs to throw up and he'd rather not still be in Frank's apartment when he does.
Gerard finally makes it out into the living room and starts hunting for his shoes, trying to stay as quiet as possible.
"You know, Frankie's a pretty heavy sleeper--as long as you're not, like, actively making noise, you should be good."
Gerard jumps, and claps a hand to keep from yelping.
"Um," he says after a moment. "Are those my shoes?"
"Yep," Bob says serenely, holding them out. "I heard you stumbling around in there, figured you'd be out looking for them."
"Thanks." Gerard takes the shoes, and doesn't ask what Bob's doing awake and alert at six or whenever the fuck it actually is AM on a Sunday.
"No problem. But fair warning, if Frank wakes up looking for you, I'm telling him you bailed."
"Er." Well, sure, when Bob just says it like that, it sounds like a shitty thing to be doing. "That's fair, I guess."
"Sure you don't want to stick around a while longer?" Bob asks. "I mean, far be it for me to rain on anyone's awkward-morning-after parade, but you really think you're up to walking home right now?"
"I'll be okay," Gerard says. He's walked home more hung-over than this. Not since college, but still.
Bob shrugs. "If you say so."
Gerard manages to make it not only home but into the bathroom before losing the contents of his stomach. He stays crouched by the toilet until he's reasonably sure he's done, then drinks some water and collapses into his own bed, which is cold and un-slept-in and completely devoid of beautiful young men with sexy tattoos.
When he wakes up, it's past noon, and he feels like he could maybe eat something and manage to keep it down, until he looks at his phone and sees two missed calls from Frank. Gerard really wants coffee, decides tea is probably a safer bet, and crawls back into bed with the cup close at hand.
The next call comes a little more than an hour later. Gerard pretends he's still asleep.
When he finally gets too hungry to ignore it and stumbles into the kitchen to find something to eat, he checks his phone and sees one voicemail waiting. It takes another half-hour or so of waffling before he finally listens to it.
"Gerard, hey. Um." Frank sounds like his stomach's every bit as twisted up in knots as Gerard's feels. "I've been hoping to actually get hold of you, but I guess...look, I just want to touch base, make sure things aren't gonna be weird after last night, so I hope you're asleep or something and not just dodging my calls..." He gives a nervous, awkward laugh, and Gerard actually squirms a little, because he's a terrible person and Frank could do so much better than him. "So I guess if I don't hear back from you, I'll just see you tomorrow...bye."
--Tomorrow. Gerard can hide in bed for the rest of today, but there's not much he can do about tomorrow. Well, he supposes he could take a sick day, but they're supposed to start the unit on Watchmen tomorrow, and anyway that would just leave him with the same problem the next day. Barring drastic measures like moving and changing his name--which he hasn't entirely ruled out yet, mind--he's going to have to talk to Frank eventually.
Frank isn't sure what to expect from Gerard on Monday, but he does his best to ensure that it won't be his fault if they get off on the wrong foot, and shows up early, impeccably dressed, and with coffee at the ready.
Gerard shows up ten minutes before class, looking even more frazzled than usual.
"Hi," Frank says.
"Hi," Gerard responds.
A few seconds pass.
Frank clears his throat. "So, um--"
"We should really get to class," Gerard says in a rush.
"--Sure." Frank says, and swallows hard. "Um. Can we talk later?"
"Sure," Gerard says, already busying himself with getting his papers for the lesson in order.
"All right--oh hey, coffee." Someday, Frank is going to get video footage of the way Gerard always looks up at that word, and sell it to one of the psych professors. "Here you go."
Their fingers brush as Gerard takes the coffee, and he pulls his hand away quickly, but also smiles a little. "Thanks."
"Don't mention it," Frank mumbles, and tries to pretend that Gerard isn't doing ridiculous things to his heart.
Gerard has a high level of dropping things, knocking things over, and forgetting his points mid-sentence that day--high even for him. Frank can't help but be a little smug over that, especially considering that Gerard's clumsiness seems to get worse whenever he looks over at Frank.
A couple of kids hang around to ask Gerard questions after class, so Frank hangs around, too, maintaining a discreet distance and ignoring the blatantly curious looks he gets from Brendon and Ryan (Spencer elbows them both, for which Frank flashes him a grateful smile).
Even with the extra clumsiness, Gerard seems fairly jazzed about how the class went. So when he starts talking about that as he gathers up his stuff, Frank goes with it for what he feels is a reasonable amount of time before interrupting.
"Gerard?"
"And when that one kid brought up all the parallels between Doctor Manhattan and Sylar on Heroes? I hadn't even realized how closely you can compare them with the whole watchmaking thing--"
"Gerard."
"--Yeah?"
"Can we, you know..." Frank gestures vaguely between himself and Gerard, "talk? About us?"
"...Oh. Yeah, I guess we probably should. Talk about that." Gerard allows, reluctantly. "At some point."
Frank waits to see if he has any more to say, and, when he doesn't, sighs and begins, "Look--"
"I was drunk," Gerard says suddenly. "We were both drunk. I feel like that ought to be taken into consideration."
"We weren't that drunk," Frank argues. "We knew what we were doing. If you're regretting it now, just tell me, and don't blame it on the alcohol."
Gerard runs both hands through his hair (getting chalk dust in it), and takes a deep breath. "Okay. It's not that I didn't want to, or that I didn't enjoy it. It's just..."
"...That I'm your T.A. and you're getting all worked up over whether or not this is inappropriate," Frank finishes for him.
"...Yeah, that's pretty much it," Gerard agrees, an apologetic note in his voice.
Frank shoves his hands in his pockets, sighing again."You're not really my employer, the university is. And I'm a consenting adult and everything, and I was the one who did the persuading Saturday night."
"I know." Gerard gnaws on his thumbnail, makes a face at the taste of chalk dust, and keeps gnawing anyway. "I know all of that. I still feel like I did something I shouldn't have."
"So, what, I get a one-night stand and then you shut me out?"
"No," Gerard says hastily. "I don't want to do that to you. But...I need some time to think. And that's not just a line, I promise."
Frank looks down for a moment, then nods. "I can live with that. But...wherever thinking about it gets you, just promise me you'll talk to me about it without me having to drag it out of you, okay?"
Gerard nods. "All right. I promise."
"And," Frank draws in a deep breath, then steps forward. "I think I ought to give you a little bit more to think about."
"Er." Gerard looks a bit like a deer in headlights as Frank approaches him. The classroom's blackboard is at his back, but he could sidestep easily in either direction, and doesn't. "Like what?"
Frank takes another step forward, which puts him pretty firmly in Gerard's personal space, tilting his head up a bit to meet Gerard's eyes. "Call it a reminder. Of what you're going to be saying yes or no to."
Frank wraps a hand around Gerard's tie to pull him down, but it starts slower and gentler than the first kiss in the club, close-mouthed and almost chaste. Then Gerard's mouth opens under Frank's, and Frank takes another step forward, hands sliding to rest on Gerard's shoulders and push him back against the blackboard as Gerard's hands curl around his waist.
"Mmph," Gerard says, pulling away slightly. "Classroom."
"Empty classroom not being used by anyone for another half hour," Frank responds, and kisses him again.
Gerard still looks uncertain, but it doesn't stop one of his hands from sliding around to Frank's lower back, pressing him closer. Frank's leg slides between his, and for just a moment Gerard leans into the pressure with a soft, needy sound in the back of his throat. Then he ducks his head to break the kiss, hair brushing against Frank's throat.
"Okay, either you need to stop or we need to go find a supply closet or something and I'd like to think I still have more dignity than that," Gerard says in a breathy rush, and Frank laughs softly and kisses his temple once before backing off.
"Okay. Promise I won't do that too often or without warning, at least."
"Those are both good ideas, unless you're trying to kill me," Gerard tells him, moving to pick up his abandoned pile of papers and folders from the desk. He's blushing faintly, or maybe just flushed from the kissing. "I'm getting too old for those kind of shenanigans."
"Yeah, right," Frank says, after taking a moment to unashamedly admire Gerard's ass when he bends down. He debates telling Gerard his back is now covered in chalk dust, or waiting to see how long it takes before Gerard notices on his own.
They're getting closer and closer to the end of the semester, now, and their workload is increasing accordingly. Frank helps out as much as he can, and it's only through his intercession that Gerard stays even remotely organized, but the burden's on Gerard to be the brains of the outfit, to take what's essentially just a desire to talk to people about comics and turn that into test questions and criteria for grading.
So it's not that he doesn't want to really take the time Frank's given him and figure things out, it's that he honestly keeps getting sidetracked from it without meaning to. They haven't talked about it again since that day in the classroom, but Frank seems to understand how close to being overwhelmed Gerard is--he's TA-ed for other professors in their first semester of teaching their own course, and knows how crazy it can get.
He does invite Gerard out again a few weeks later, "no strings attached, promise. Bob can chaperone", but accepts it when Gerard takes a rain check, not because he has work to do, but because he's beat.
"Get some sleep," Frank tells him over the phone. "Sleep, not reading comics in your pajamas until three in the morning."
"You know, it's a good thing it's too late in the semester for me to get used to a new TA, or I'd have to kill you for knowing too many of my secrets," Gerard replies.
"I don't think it counts as a secret if it's something you mentioned you do over coffee two months ago," Frank counters.
"...Touché. Have fun."
Gerard wakes up to a text message from Mikey asking if he wants to meet for breakfast (well, it's lunchtime, but it's breakfast food). It's been a while since they hung out one-on-one, and it's a comfortingly familiar routine--catching up, trading stories, teasing each other good-naturedly.
"So," Mikey says eventually, "you weren't out with Frank and everyone last night."
Gerard quirks an eyebrow at him. "And you know this because...?"
"I was," Mikey informs him casually, and Gerard shouldn't be surprised. Mikey's quiet, and comes off as kind of dorky at first, but Gerard's never seen him be introduced to a social circle without being able to successfully infiltrate it. "Remember Pete?"
Gerard thinks for a moment. "Your old roommate? Isn't he doing a semester in Europe right now?"
"He is," Mikey says. "But he and Patrick are, like, soulmates."
Gerard blinks. "They're a couple?"
Mikey shrugs. "Maybe. I don't actually know if they're involved, y'know, that way. They're just...soulmates. They finish each other's sentences and stuff. So I'd met Patrick a while ago, but back before the band started, and he didn't get out much then. He can be kind of a workaholic."
"No idea what that's like," Gerard says wryly. "Glad you're getting along with that whole bunch, though, they're pretty cool."
"Yeah, they are," Mikey says, and then looks at Gerard over the tops of his glasses. "Frank said he'd invited you, but you decided not to come."
"Yeah, because I would have fallen asleep on him ten minutes after we got to the club," Gerard says, and Mikey smirks a little.
"I don't think he would've minded if you did," he says. Gerard throws a balled-up napkin at him, and Mikey bats it away and continues. "Anyway, he ended up bringing this kid who said he's in your class--Spencer something?"
"Spencer Smith," Gerard says automatically, and then pauses, fork hovering over his pancakes. "...Frank brought Spencer?" Spencer, who wears flatteringly tight t-shirts (not that Gerard's gone out of his way to notice, but you can't help but notice what people wear when you spend a lot of time standing in front of them) and has a beautiful, beautiful smile and wouldn't have any workplace ethic conflicts if he wanted to, say, seduce Frank right out from under Gerard's nose.
"Yeah, apparently he's got a thing for that Jon guy," Mikey says, and Gerard remembers Frank telling him about that, and also remembers to breathe. "It was kind of cute, they both kept checking each other out when they thought no one was looking." He glances up from his plate, and adds, "Sort of like two other people I could name."
"--What? We do not," Gerard protests, only to have Mikey smirk again.
"Oh, so you just assume I'm talking about you and Frank there? I see how it is."
"Hey! That was entrapment."
"Guilty as charged," Mikey admits, not sounding very guilty at all. "But seriously, what's going on with you two?"
"Er," Gerard says, stabbing at his pancakes.
"Still complicated?" Mikey asks.
"You could say that," Gerard says, and shoves a forkful of food into his mouth.
Mikey reaches across the table and pats Gerard's arm sympathetically. "Let me know how it turns out. But for what it's worth, from the impression I get of Frank? I'd say he's worth dealing with complicated for."
"I will. And thanks," Gerard replies, with a faint smile. He is.
Impromptu classroom makeout sessions aside, Frank's plan had been to give Gerard space, let him make the next move. Assuming Gerard proves willing to make a move sometime in the next year or so.
Gerard ends up surprising him. It only takes until the end of November.
The weekend after Thanksgiving finds them pulling another late-night grading session, sprawled out in Gerard's living room among piles of research papers and the remains of take-out Chinese food.
"How many more weeks of this do we have?" Gerard asks as he sets the paper he's been working on down.
Frank's brain is tired enough that he has to think for a moment before replying, "Two. And then finals."
"Oh, God, don't say that word," Gerard groans, pushing his hands through his hair. He looks down at the paper he just finished, and says, "Well, I think I'm done for the night. You?"
"I've spent the last half hour or so resisting the urge to start making notations in macro talk," Frank informs him, and then mimes writing in the margin. "'VISIBLE COMMA SPLICE'. I'm way past done."
Gerard blinks at him owlishly. "...Sorry, what?"
"...Oh my God, you don't know about macros," Frank says, halfway between amusement and horror.
"Don't you, like, use the internet? For non-work-related purposes?"
Gerard scrunches up his face in thought for a moment. "Is this a Facebook thing?"
"...How are you real?" Frank demands, on the verge of laughter.
"You're making fun of me," Gerard points out dourly. "I paid for dinner, and now you're making fun of me because I'm not hip."
'Hip' is the final straw, and Frank doubles over, giggling. Gerard folds his arms and does his best to look dignified, which doesn't work so well with his hair sticking up.
"Sorry," Frank says once he's recovered, and then "C'mere."
Gerard gives him a suspicious look. "...Why?"
"Fine, I'll come over there," Frank says, and scoots across the space between them on the floor, reaching out to pat Gerard's hair down before he can draw back. "Not that the crazy hair isn't a good look for you, but."
Frank pulls back when he's done, sitting close but not too close, hands resting on his own knees, and that's when Gerard moves forward, catching Frank's mouth with his own.
Frank stiffens for a moment, then relaxes, brings his hands up and slides them into Gerard's hair. The kiss is soft and easy, no frantic passion or sloppy collisions of teeth or noses, just the two of them kneeling on Gerard's living room floor, mouths pressed together for a long, sweet moment.
Gerard pulls back, finally, a little flushed, with a small, sweet smile that tugs at Frank's heart as much as the kiss did. "Hey."
"Hey," Frank replies, voice soft and low as he combs his fingers through Gerard's hair. "Didn't see that coming."
Gerard ducks his head. "Neither did I, really." He rests a hand on Frank's hip, fingers just grazing bare skin where Frank's shirt rides up a little in the back. "Um. Do you...do you want to stay?"
Frank brings his hands down to frame Gerard's face, tilting it up gently. "Do you want me to?"
Gerard hesitates for just a second, then leans forward to kiss him again, briefly. "Yes," he whispers as he pulls back.
With both of them so tired, they don't do much at first but kiss and rub against each other in Gerard's bed, curled up together in a nest of rumpled sheets. Then Frank rolls Gerard onto his back and moves down the length of his body, trailing kisses as he goes and whispering "Can I?" against the skin of Gerard's hip, and Gerard moans and slides a hand into Frank's hair, rocking up into his mouth slow and gentle.
Frank crawls back up on the bed afterwards, and Gerard bites his lip as he watches Frank wipe his own mouth and lick his thumb clean. There's still a hint of aftertaste in Frank's mouth as they kiss, and Gerard gives a pleased shudder before running a hand down under the blanket to where Frank's still hard, pressed against his leg.
"Don't run out on me this time, okay?" Frank whispers afterwards. "I mean, it'd be hard to do when we're in your apartment, but...don't."
Gerard curls himself around Frank's back, arms around his waist, lips brushing the back of Frank's neck as he murmurs that he won't, and the only thing Frank can do while they're lying together like that is believe him.
Gerard does run out in the morning, but only as far as the nearest Starbucks and the bakery next to it, returning with coffee and muffins that Frank drags him back into bed to eat in spite of Gerard's protests about crumbs.
"I could get used to you bringing me coffee for a change," Frank says, and kisses him.
"I figure we can mix things up every once in a while," Gerard replies, and then sticks his cold hands under the blanket, making Frank yelp.
They spend a lazy morning together, fooling around and making halfhearted attempts at getting work done until they're both forced to admit it's futile and divide the remaining papers up to grade on their own. Frank takes his and bundles back into his coat and scarf, and they kiss for an absurdly long time in Gerard's doorway before he finally leaves.
When Gerard thinks about it later, he doesn't regret it, exactly. He's not sure it's possible to really regret a night spent with Frank, based on the two he has to go on so far. But when he thinks about it--because he can think clearly now, without Frank here making Gerard's mind glaze over with lust--he's still hesitant about really going for a relationship with Frank, and not sure what this weekend means in terms of that. Which is slightly worrying, because he doesn't want to be the sort of guy who goes for sex when it suits him while knowing that's not all his partner wants.
Frank doesn't try to corner him for another talk on Monday, but he does give Gerard a smile that makes his stomach twist, and ask if Gerard's busy that night.
"Probably aren't going to be many nights between now and the end of the semester when I'm not busy," Gerard says apologetically.
Frank's smile slips a little, but he nods. "Okay. Just...let me know how I can help, okay? And let me know when you are up for doing something? It doesn't have to be much, just dinner, maybe. Or coffee we actually sit down to drink."
"I will," Gerard says, and "Soon, maybe," and hopes he won't end up making a liar out of himself.
"Okay," Frank says. He hesitates a moment, then moves in. Suddenly having Frank in his personal space still catches Gerard up, leaves him unsure what to do, but Frank just kisses him on the cheek, then speaks softly, his mouth close to Gerard's ear. "I don't want to push you too fast, Gerard. But there's only so much waiting I'm prepared to do."
Later that night, Gerard gets a text from Mikey on his phone.
i'm not supposed to let frank hear about this, but pete says that patrick says that bob says you're a cool guy and everything, but if you break frank's heart the police will never find your body.
Gerard takes a moment to reflect on the fact that the list of people having conversations about his love life now includes his brother's ex-roommate in Europe, then turns his phone off for the rest of the night, and goes to drown his sorrows in old issues of Doom Patrol.
The last week before finals passes in a sleep-deprived, caffeine-addled blur, and Frank tells himself to go easy on Gerard and bide his time a little longer. He's getting anxious, though--the decision about who he's going to TA for next semester is going to have to be made soon, and he feels like what's going to happen with him and Gerard (or not happen, he reminds himself, in spite of the sick jolt it always sends to his stomach, it could still be not) might have some bearing on that.
The morning of the exam finally dawns, and Frank figures this might be a good time to try and talk to Gerard--after the task of writing the exam is over, but before the final grading hurdle.
His first clue that this might not be the best time to talk is when he shows up to find Gerard in the office with his tie loose and his hair at its craziest, rifling through the drawers of his desk.
Gerard looks up, slightly wild-eyed. "Frank. Frank. I left the exam papers here last night so I wouldn't forget them at home and now I can't find them."
Frank facepalms. "You left them tucked between the pages of your copy of Watchmen, in the bottom drawer of your desk."
"Yes, and they're not there anymore--"
"--Because I found them there, and put them, with the pages sorted and stapled, in a folder in the top drawer of your desk," Frank informs him.
"...Oh," Gerard says sheepishly, and opens the top drawer.
He's about to head out the door, folder in hand, when Frank stops him, cinching Gerard's tie up and then smoothing down his hair.
"Damned if I'm gonna let you go in there not looking like a professional today," he says. "And...we should talk."
"--Now?" Gerard asks, looking at a bit of a loss.
"Well, after you go hand the exams out," Frank says. "But considering it's the end of the semester...yeah, we should."
Frank's waiting in the office when Gerard comes back, leaning against the desk with his hands in his pockets.
"Hey," Gerard says, approaching. "So, um..."
"Here's the thing," Frank begins, before he can second-guess himself. "It's been great being your TA, really. But if it's an issue you can't get past, and it's going to keep standing in the way of us having anything...I know which I'd choose, basically. And I've been trying to be patient, and I think I have been, but the call needs to be made."
Gerard looks at him for a moment, then takes a deep breath. "Okay. Where I stand on the whole thing...you're, seriously, I know I say this all the time, but I can't imagine a better TA than you and I honestly don't know how I'd get through a day without you anymore."
Frank braces himself. Bob will carry him home after he drinks himself into a heartbroken stupor tonight. Bob's a stand-up guy like that.
"...But the thing is, I've done a lot of thinking about it in the past couple of days, and I think I'm sort of in love with you," Gerard finishes.
Frank blinks. Opens his mouth. Closes his mouth. "You. Um. Seriously?"
Gerard moves forward, cups Frank's face in his hands, and kisses him long and slow and deep.
"Seriously," he says as he draws back.
Frank pulls him in again--not for a kiss, just to wrap his arms around Gerard's shoulders, face pressed into his neck. "Well, then," he says. "I'll do my best to find you a good replacement?"
Gerard laughs, arms going around Frank and holding tight. "You do that."
"And hey--" Frank pulls back to look up at him. "If I'm not your TA anymore, it doesn't mean I can't bring you coffee and make sure you eat and organize your stuff. It just means you have to pay me for all of it in sexual favors."
Gerard tilts his head down to rest his forehead against Frank's, grinning. "Yeah? I think I can live with that."
Fandom: Bandom AU, primarily MCR but cameos from others.
Rating: R
Summary: ...It's all there in the title, really, except to tell you that it's the fault of this photoshoot, and that inspiration/enabling was provided by
blondiusmaximus Notes: OH GOD IT'S FINISHED. For a while I was tempted to turn this into a four-parter, so this part's pretty long. This also may not be the last I write in this universe, which I've become very fond of, and I suspect it has a couple more stories lurking around on the edges of this one.
Previous chapters here and here.
Gerard wakes up with a moderate hangover, early-early-morning light seeping through the blinds, and Frank sprawled half on top of him, legs tangled up with Gerard's, mouth open against Gerard's neck.
"...Fuck," Gerard mutters, and Frank mumbles and shifts against him but doesn't wake up, thank God.
It takes almost ten minutes for Gerard to extract himself. This is because he does it slowly and cautiously and freezes like a deer in headlights every time Frank moves or makes a noise, and not because the bed is warm and Frank's skin is smooth and the thought of maybe rolling him over and kissing him awake is seriously tempting Gerard to stay.
Finding his clothes takes another few minutes, during which Frank does not help at all, because he stretches a little and then flops over on his back. The motion exposes the tattoos on his stomach, the ones that Gerard can remember licking last night--Jesus, his sex life hasn't been entirely boring, but he doesn't think he's ever licked anyone's stomach in bed before this, and oh, by the way? He slept with his TA last night.
...He slept with his TA last night and it was possibly the best sex of his life, even though he guesses they haven't technically had sex yet, and oh God, not thinking about that, because he needs to throw up and he'd rather not still be in Frank's apartment when he does.
Gerard finally makes it out into the living room and starts hunting for his shoes, trying to stay as quiet as possible.
"You know, Frankie's a pretty heavy sleeper--as long as you're not, like, actively making noise, you should be good."
Gerard jumps, and claps a hand to keep from yelping.
"Um," he says after a moment. "Are those my shoes?"
"Yep," Bob says serenely, holding them out. "I heard you stumbling around in there, figured you'd be out looking for them."
"Thanks." Gerard takes the shoes, and doesn't ask what Bob's doing awake and alert at six or whenever the fuck it actually is AM on a Sunday.
"No problem. But fair warning, if Frank wakes up looking for you, I'm telling him you bailed."
"Er." Well, sure, when Bob just says it like that, it sounds like a shitty thing to be doing. "That's fair, I guess."
"Sure you don't want to stick around a while longer?" Bob asks. "I mean, far be it for me to rain on anyone's awkward-morning-after parade, but you really think you're up to walking home right now?"
"I'll be okay," Gerard says. He's walked home more hung-over than this. Not since college, but still.
Bob shrugs. "If you say so."
Gerard manages to make it not only home but into the bathroom before losing the contents of his stomach. He stays crouched by the toilet until he's reasonably sure he's done, then drinks some water and collapses into his own bed, which is cold and un-slept-in and completely devoid of beautiful young men with sexy tattoos.
When he wakes up, it's past noon, and he feels like he could maybe eat something and manage to keep it down, until he looks at his phone and sees two missed calls from Frank. Gerard really wants coffee, decides tea is probably a safer bet, and crawls back into bed with the cup close at hand.
The next call comes a little more than an hour later. Gerard pretends he's still asleep.
When he finally gets too hungry to ignore it and stumbles into the kitchen to find something to eat, he checks his phone and sees one voicemail waiting. It takes another half-hour or so of waffling before he finally listens to it.
"Gerard, hey. Um." Frank sounds like his stomach's every bit as twisted up in knots as Gerard's feels. "I've been hoping to actually get hold of you, but I guess...look, I just want to touch base, make sure things aren't gonna be weird after last night, so I hope you're asleep or something and not just dodging my calls..." He gives a nervous, awkward laugh, and Gerard actually squirms a little, because he's a terrible person and Frank could do so much better than him. "So I guess if I don't hear back from you, I'll just see you tomorrow...bye."
--Tomorrow. Gerard can hide in bed for the rest of today, but there's not much he can do about tomorrow. Well, he supposes he could take a sick day, but they're supposed to start the unit on Watchmen tomorrow, and anyway that would just leave him with the same problem the next day. Barring drastic measures like moving and changing his name--which he hasn't entirely ruled out yet, mind--he's going to have to talk to Frank eventually.
Frank isn't sure what to expect from Gerard on Monday, but he does his best to ensure that it won't be his fault if they get off on the wrong foot, and shows up early, impeccably dressed, and with coffee at the ready.
Gerard shows up ten minutes before class, looking even more frazzled than usual.
"Hi," Frank says.
"Hi," Gerard responds.
A few seconds pass.
Frank clears his throat. "So, um--"
"We should really get to class," Gerard says in a rush.
"--Sure." Frank says, and swallows hard. "Um. Can we talk later?"
"Sure," Gerard says, already busying himself with getting his papers for the lesson in order.
"All right--oh hey, coffee." Someday, Frank is going to get video footage of the way Gerard always looks up at that word, and sell it to one of the psych professors. "Here you go."
Their fingers brush as Gerard takes the coffee, and he pulls his hand away quickly, but also smiles a little. "Thanks."
"Don't mention it," Frank mumbles, and tries to pretend that Gerard isn't doing ridiculous things to his heart.
Gerard has a high level of dropping things, knocking things over, and forgetting his points mid-sentence that day--high even for him. Frank can't help but be a little smug over that, especially considering that Gerard's clumsiness seems to get worse whenever he looks over at Frank.
A couple of kids hang around to ask Gerard questions after class, so Frank hangs around, too, maintaining a discreet distance and ignoring the blatantly curious looks he gets from Brendon and Ryan (Spencer elbows them both, for which Frank flashes him a grateful smile).
Even with the extra clumsiness, Gerard seems fairly jazzed about how the class went. So when he starts talking about that as he gathers up his stuff, Frank goes with it for what he feels is a reasonable amount of time before interrupting.
"Gerard?"
"And when that one kid brought up all the parallels between Doctor Manhattan and Sylar on Heroes? I hadn't even realized how closely you can compare them with the whole watchmaking thing--"
"Gerard."
"--Yeah?"
"Can we, you know..." Frank gestures vaguely between himself and Gerard, "talk? About us?"
"...Oh. Yeah, I guess we probably should. Talk about that." Gerard allows, reluctantly. "At some point."
Frank waits to see if he has any more to say, and, when he doesn't, sighs and begins, "Look--"
"I was drunk," Gerard says suddenly. "We were both drunk. I feel like that ought to be taken into consideration."
"We weren't that drunk," Frank argues. "We knew what we were doing. If you're regretting it now, just tell me, and don't blame it on the alcohol."
Gerard runs both hands through his hair (getting chalk dust in it), and takes a deep breath. "Okay. It's not that I didn't want to, or that I didn't enjoy it. It's just..."
"...That I'm your T.A. and you're getting all worked up over whether or not this is inappropriate," Frank finishes for him.
"...Yeah, that's pretty much it," Gerard agrees, an apologetic note in his voice.
Frank shoves his hands in his pockets, sighing again."You're not really my employer, the university is. And I'm a consenting adult and everything, and I was the one who did the persuading Saturday night."
"I know." Gerard gnaws on his thumbnail, makes a face at the taste of chalk dust, and keeps gnawing anyway. "I know all of that. I still feel like I did something I shouldn't have."
"So, what, I get a one-night stand and then you shut me out?"
"No," Gerard says hastily. "I don't want to do that to you. But...I need some time to think. And that's not just a line, I promise."
Frank looks down for a moment, then nods. "I can live with that. But...wherever thinking about it gets you, just promise me you'll talk to me about it without me having to drag it out of you, okay?"
Gerard nods. "All right. I promise."
"And," Frank draws in a deep breath, then steps forward. "I think I ought to give you a little bit more to think about."
"Er." Gerard looks a bit like a deer in headlights as Frank approaches him. The classroom's blackboard is at his back, but he could sidestep easily in either direction, and doesn't. "Like what?"
Frank takes another step forward, which puts him pretty firmly in Gerard's personal space, tilting his head up a bit to meet Gerard's eyes. "Call it a reminder. Of what you're going to be saying yes or no to."
Frank wraps a hand around Gerard's tie to pull him down, but it starts slower and gentler than the first kiss in the club, close-mouthed and almost chaste. Then Gerard's mouth opens under Frank's, and Frank takes another step forward, hands sliding to rest on Gerard's shoulders and push him back against the blackboard as Gerard's hands curl around his waist.
"Mmph," Gerard says, pulling away slightly. "Classroom."
"Empty classroom not being used by anyone for another half hour," Frank responds, and kisses him again.
Gerard still looks uncertain, but it doesn't stop one of his hands from sliding around to Frank's lower back, pressing him closer. Frank's leg slides between his, and for just a moment Gerard leans into the pressure with a soft, needy sound in the back of his throat. Then he ducks his head to break the kiss, hair brushing against Frank's throat.
"Okay, either you need to stop or we need to go find a supply closet or something and I'd like to think I still have more dignity than that," Gerard says in a breathy rush, and Frank laughs softly and kisses his temple once before backing off.
"Okay. Promise I won't do that too often or without warning, at least."
"Those are both good ideas, unless you're trying to kill me," Gerard tells him, moving to pick up his abandoned pile of papers and folders from the desk. He's blushing faintly, or maybe just flushed from the kissing. "I'm getting too old for those kind of shenanigans."
"Yeah, right," Frank says, after taking a moment to unashamedly admire Gerard's ass when he bends down. He debates telling Gerard his back is now covered in chalk dust, or waiting to see how long it takes before Gerard notices on his own.
They're getting closer and closer to the end of the semester, now, and their workload is increasing accordingly. Frank helps out as much as he can, and it's only through his intercession that Gerard stays even remotely organized, but the burden's on Gerard to be the brains of the outfit, to take what's essentially just a desire to talk to people about comics and turn that into test questions and criteria for grading.
So it's not that he doesn't want to really take the time Frank's given him and figure things out, it's that he honestly keeps getting sidetracked from it without meaning to. They haven't talked about it again since that day in the classroom, but Frank seems to understand how close to being overwhelmed Gerard is--he's TA-ed for other professors in their first semester of teaching their own course, and knows how crazy it can get.
He does invite Gerard out again a few weeks later, "no strings attached, promise. Bob can chaperone", but accepts it when Gerard takes a rain check, not because he has work to do, but because he's beat.
"Get some sleep," Frank tells him over the phone. "Sleep, not reading comics in your pajamas until three in the morning."
"You know, it's a good thing it's too late in the semester for me to get used to a new TA, or I'd have to kill you for knowing too many of my secrets," Gerard replies.
"I don't think it counts as a secret if it's something you mentioned you do over coffee two months ago," Frank counters.
"...Touché. Have fun."
Gerard wakes up to a text message from Mikey asking if he wants to meet for breakfast (well, it's lunchtime, but it's breakfast food). It's been a while since they hung out one-on-one, and it's a comfortingly familiar routine--catching up, trading stories, teasing each other good-naturedly.
"So," Mikey says eventually, "you weren't out with Frank and everyone last night."
Gerard quirks an eyebrow at him. "And you know this because...?"
"I was," Mikey informs him casually, and Gerard shouldn't be surprised. Mikey's quiet, and comes off as kind of dorky at first, but Gerard's never seen him be introduced to a social circle without being able to successfully infiltrate it. "Remember Pete?"
Gerard thinks for a moment. "Your old roommate? Isn't he doing a semester in Europe right now?"
"He is," Mikey says. "But he and Patrick are, like, soulmates."
Gerard blinks. "They're a couple?"
Mikey shrugs. "Maybe. I don't actually know if they're involved, y'know, that way. They're just...soulmates. They finish each other's sentences and stuff. So I'd met Patrick a while ago, but back before the band started, and he didn't get out much then. He can be kind of a workaholic."
"No idea what that's like," Gerard says wryly. "Glad you're getting along with that whole bunch, though, they're pretty cool."
"Yeah, they are," Mikey says, and then looks at Gerard over the tops of his glasses. "Frank said he'd invited you, but you decided not to come."
"Yeah, because I would have fallen asleep on him ten minutes after we got to the club," Gerard says, and Mikey smirks a little.
"I don't think he would've minded if you did," he says. Gerard throws a balled-up napkin at him, and Mikey bats it away and continues. "Anyway, he ended up bringing this kid who said he's in your class--Spencer something?"
"Spencer Smith," Gerard says automatically, and then pauses, fork hovering over his pancakes. "...Frank brought Spencer?" Spencer, who wears flatteringly tight t-shirts (not that Gerard's gone out of his way to notice, but you can't help but notice what people wear when you spend a lot of time standing in front of them) and has a beautiful, beautiful smile and wouldn't have any workplace ethic conflicts if he wanted to, say, seduce Frank right out from under Gerard's nose.
"Yeah, apparently he's got a thing for that Jon guy," Mikey says, and Gerard remembers Frank telling him about that, and also remembers to breathe. "It was kind of cute, they both kept checking each other out when they thought no one was looking." He glances up from his plate, and adds, "Sort of like two other people I could name."
"--What? We do not," Gerard protests, only to have Mikey smirk again.
"Oh, so you just assume I'm talking about you and Frank there? I see how it is."
"Hey! That was entrapment."
"Guilty as charged," Mikey admits, not sounding very guilty at all. "But seriously, what's going on with you two?"
"Er," Gerard says, stabbing at his pancakes.
"Still complicated?" Mikey asks.
"You could say that," Gerard says, and shoves a forkful of food into his mouth.
Mikey reaches across the table and pats Gerard's arm sympathetically. "Let me know how it turns out. But for what it's worth, from the impression I get of Frank? I'd say he's worth dealing with complicated for."
"I will. And thanks," Gerard replies, with a faint smile. He is.
Impromptu classroom makeout sessions aside, Frank's plan had been to give Gerard space, let him make the next move. Assuming Gerard proves willing to make a move sometime in the next year or so.
Gerard ends up surprising him. It only takes until the end of November.
The weekend after Thanksgiving finds them pulling another late-night grading session, sprawled out in Gerard's living room among piles of research papers and the remains of take-out Chinese food.
"How many more weeks of this do we have?" Gerard asks as he sets the paper he's been working on down.
Frank's brain is tired enough that he has to think for a moment before replying, "Two. And then finals."
"Oh, God, don't say that word," Gerard groans, pushing his hands through his hair. He looks down at the paper he just finished, and says, "Well, I think I'm done for the night. You?"
"I've spent the last half hour or so resisting the urge to start making notations in macro talk," Frank informs him, and then mimes writing in the margin. "'VISIBLE COMMA SPLICE'. I'm way past done."
Gerard blinks at him owlishly. "...Sorry, what?"
"...Oh my God, you don't know about macros," Frank says, halfway between amusement and horror.
"Don't you, like, use the internet? For non-work-related purposes?"
Gerard scrunches up his face in thought for a moment. "Is this a Facebook thing?"
"...How are you real?" Frank demands, on the verge of laughter.
"You're making fun of me," Gerard points out dourly. "I paid for dinner, and now you're making fun of me because I'm not hip."
'Hip' is the final straw, and Frank doubles over, giggling. Gerard folds his arms and does his best to look dignified, which doesn't work so well with his hair sticking up.
"Sorry," Frank says once he's recovered, and then "C'mere."
Gerard gives him a suspicious look. "...Why?"
"Fine, I'll come over there," Frank says, and scoots across the space between them on the floor, reaching out to pat Gerard's hair down before he can draw back. "Not that the crazy hair isn't a good look for you, but."
Frank pulls back when he's done, sitting close but not too close, hands resting on his own knees, and that's when Gerard moves forward, catching Frank's mouth with his own.
Frank stiffens for a moment, then relaxes, brings his hands up and slides them into Gerard's hair. The kiss is soft and easy, no frantic passion or sloppy collisions of teeth or noses, just the two of them kneeling on Gerard's living room floor, mouths pressed together for a long, sweet moment.
Gerard pulls back, finally, a little flushed, with a small, sweet smile that tugs at Frank's heart as much as the kiss did. "Hey."
"Hey," Frank replies, voice soft and low as he combs his fingers through Gerard's hair. "Didn't see that coming."
Gerard ducks his head. "Neither did I, really." He rests a hand on Frank's hip, fingers just grazing bare skin where Frank's shirt rides up a little in the back. "Um. Do you...do you want to stay?"
Frank brings his hands down to frame Gerard's face, tilting it up gently. "Do you want me to?"
Gerard hesitates for just a second, then leans forward to kiss him again, briefly. "Yes," he whispers as he pulls back.
With both of them so tired, they don't do much at first but kiss and rub against each other in Gerard's bed, curled up together in a nest of rumpled sheets. Then Frank rolls Gerard onto his back and moves down the length of his body, trailing kisses as he goes and whispering "Can I?" against the skin of Gerard's hip, and Gerard moans and slides a hand into Frank's hair, rocking up into his mouth slow and gentle.
Frank crawls back up on the bed afterwards, and Gerard bites his lip as he watches Frank wipe his own mouth and lick his thumb clean. There's still a hint of aftertaste in Frank's mouth as they kiss, and Gerard gives a pleased shudder before running a hand down under the blanket to where Frank's still hard, pressed against his leg.
"Don't run out on me this time, okay?" Frank whispers afterwards. "I mean, it'd be hard to do when we're in your apartment, but...don't."
Gerard curls himself around Frank's back, arms around his waist, lips brushing the back of Frank's neck as he murmurs that he won't, and the only thing Frank can do while they're lying together like that is believe him.
Gerard does run out in the morning, but only as far as the nearest Starbucks and the bakery next to it, returning with coffee and muffins that Frank drags him back into bed to eat in spite of Gerard's protests about crumbs.
"I could get used to you bringing me coffee for a change," Frank says, and kisses him.
"I figure we can mix things up every once in a while," Gerard replies, and then sticks his cold hands under the blanket, making Frank yelp.
They spend a lazy morning together, fooling around and making halfhearted attempts at getting work done until they're both forced to admit it's futile and divide the remaining papers up to grade on their own. Frank takes his and bundles back into his coat and scarf, and they kiss for an absurdly long time in Gerard's doorway before he finally leaves.
When Gerard thinks about it later, he doesn't regret it, exactly. He's not sure it's possible to really regret a night spent with Frank, based on the two he has to go on so far. But when he thinks about it--because he can think clearly now, without Frank here making Gerard's mind glaze over with lust--he's still hesitant about really going for a relationship with Frank, and not sure what this weekend means in terms of that. Which is slightly worrying, because he doesn't want to be the sort of guy who goes for sex when it suits him while knowing that's not all his partner wants.
Frank doesn't try to corner him for another talk on Monday, but he does give Gerard a smile that makes his stomach twist, and ask if Gerard's busy that night.
"Probably aren't going to be many nights between now and the end of the semester when I'm not busy," Gerard says apologetically.
Frank's smile slips a little, but he nods. "Okay. Just...let me know how I can help, okay? And let me know when you are up for doing something? It doesn't have to be much, just dinner, maybe. Or coffee we actually sit down to drink."
"I will," Gerard says, and "Soon, maybe," and hopes he won't end up making a liar out of himself.
"Okay," Frank says. He hesitates a moment, then moves in. Suddenly having Frank in his personal space still catches Gerard up, leaves him unsure what to do, but Frank just kisses him on the cheek, then speaks softly, his mouth close to Gerard's ear. "I don't want to push you too fast, Gerard. But there's only so much waiting I'm prepared to do."
Later that night, Gerard gets a text from Mikey on his phone.
i'm not supposed to let frank hear about this, but pete says that patrick says that bob says you're a cool guy and everything, but if you break frank's heart the police will never find your body.
Gerard takes a moment to reflect on the fact that the list of people having conversations about his love life now includes his brother's ex-roommate in Europe, then turns his phone off for the rest of the night, and goes to drown his sorrows in old issues of Doom Patrol.
The last week before finals passes in a sleep-deprived, caffeine-addled blur, and Frank tells himself to go easy on Gerard and bide his time a little longer. He's getting anxious, though--the decision about who he's going to TA for next semester is going to have to be made soon, and he feels like what's going to happen with him and Gerard (or not happen, he reminds himself, in spite of the sick jolt it always sends to his stomach, it could still be not) might have some bearing on that.
The morning of the exam finally dawns, and Frank figures this might be a good time to try and talk to Gerard--after the task of writing the exam is over, but before the final grading hurdle.
His first clue that this might not be the best time to talk is when he shows up to find Gerard in the office with his tie loose and his hair at its craziest, rifling through the drawers of his desk.
Gerard looks up, slightly wild-eyed. "Frank. Frank. I left the exam papers here last night so I wouldn't forget them at home and now I can't find them."
Frank facepalms. "You left them tucked between the pages of your copy of Watchmen, in the bottom drawer of your desk."
"Yes, and they're not there anymore--"
"--Because I found them there, and put them, with the pages sorted and stapled, in a folder in the top drawer of your desk," Frank informs him.
"...Oh," Gerard says sheepishly, and opens the top drawer.
He's about to head out the door, folder in hand, when Frank stops him, cinching Gerard's tie up and then smoothing down his hair.
"Damned if I'm gonna let you go in there not looking like a professional today," he says. "And...we should talk."
"--Now?" Gerard asks, looking at a bit of a loss.
"Well, after you go hand the exams out," Frank says. "But considering it's the end of the semester...yeah, we should."
Frank's waiting in the office when Gerard comes back, leaning against the desk with his hands in his pockets.
"Hey," Gerard says, approaching. "So, um..."
"Here's the thing," Frank begins, before he can second-guess himself. "It's been great being your TA, really. But if it's an issue you can't get past, and it's going to keep standing in the way of us having anything...I know which I'd choose, basically. And I've been trying to be patient, and I think I have been, but the call needs to be made."
Gerard looks at him for a moment, then takes a deep breath. "Okay. Where I stand on the whole thing...you're, seriously, I know I say this all the time, but I can't imagine a better TA than you and I honestly don't know how I'd get through a day without you anymore."
Frank braces himself. Bob will carry him home after he drinks himself into a heartbroken stupor tonight. Bob's a stand-up guy like that.
"...But the thing is, I've done a lot of thinking about it in the past couple of days, and I think I'm sort of in love with you," Gerard finishes.
Frank blinks. Opens his mouth. Closes his mouth. "You. Um. Seriously?"
Gerard moves forward, cups Frank's face in his hands, and kisses him long and slow and deep.
"Seriously," he says as he draws back.
Frank pulls him in again--not for a kiss, just to wrap his arms around Gerard's shoulders, face pressed into his neck. "Well, then," he says. "I'll do my best to find you a good replacement?"
Gerard laughs, arms going around Frank and holding tight. "You do that."
"And hey--" Frank pulls back to look up at him. "If I'm not your TA anymore, it doesn't mean I can't bring you coffee and make sure you eat and organize your stuff. It just means you have to pay me for all of it in sexual favors."
Gerard tilts his head down to rest his forehead against Frank's, grinning. "Yeah? I think I can live with that."
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Date: 2007-11-12 05:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-12 08:05 am (UTC)