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It had been too hot to sleep in his bunk.
However, feeling the uncomfortable stick of his skin on the leather couch, Gerard was starting to wonder if this had been a bad idea. Despite being cold, the material was forming a constant connection to his arms and legs.
They were parked at wherever the fuck Warped was tonight, and the shouts and cries from bands outside seemed to be a consistent white noise. Seriously, who the fuck was still drinking at 4am?
Gerard couldn't shut the window, though, as it would turn the bus into a giant, six-wheeled oven. Instead, he rolled over, staring at the ceiling. It was dotted with lights and air vents (none of which were on at the moment), as well as a few marks and scratches from where equipment or drunk men had damaged it.
He was tired, really, but not enough to sleep. It was too late to take a walk, but the sun would come up soon enough. Maybe then Gerard would -
Frank was at the doorway, seeming equally surprised to see Gerard awake. His chest rose and fell as if he'd been running, and even in the low light, Gerard could see the gleam of his wide eyes.
"Gettin' water," Frank mumbled, putting his head down and shakily feeling around for some sort of drinking device. Finding a half-empty flask, Frank picked it up. Gerard offered him his water bottle instead, and Frank accepted it gratefully. "Thanks."
"Are you alright?" Gerard asked softly, so as to not bother the others. Having once toured in a van, the guys were pretty tough sleepers. Still, he knew they'd be upset if awoken. "You look sick." Gerard beckoned him over, leaning up to touch Frank's forehead. It didn't feel hot, but rather, slightly damp with a cold sheen of sweat.
Frank shivered, leaning away from the touch and looking at Gerard. "Why are you out here?"
"Too hot," Gerard answered, and Frank wrinkled his nose.
"I know you are. Didn't answer my fuckin' question, though." With a soft laugh, Frank sat down on the edge of the couch. Gerard laid back, propping himself up on his elbows to watch Frank. The guy was slouching over, shoulders curled protectively and knees trembling slightly.
Frank caught him watching, and unsuccessfully tried to still his legs. "Guess I had a weird dream or something. New meds got me all fucked up." The streetlights outside in the parking lot gave his face an odd sort of sunrise glow - highlighting Frank's face with an artificial gold. It was interesting: his face had always been something Gerard would have liked to draw.
"Alright, well," Gerard began to say goodnight, when Frank cut him off.
"Actually, would you - uh, mind if I just stayed a little longer?"
Of course Gerard didn't mind, and he simply shrugged. "Okay. But I'm going to sleep."
And without any sort of prompting or encouragement from Gerard (which is what it usually took to convince Frank to get to sleep) Frank laid down next to him, careful to leave as much space between their bodies as the narrow couch would allow. It wasn't a lot, and with barely a second thought, Gerard looped his arms around Frank's waist and pulled him close, his chest to Frank's back. It was way too hot to be this close to another human, but the feeling of tension seeping out of Frank's body was enough to keep Gerard from letting go. Also, they fit on the couch better this way. Less stress of falling off and such.
Frank shuddered out a shaky sigh, curling in on himself and snuggling closer into Gerard. Pulling up his knees to really spoon the other, Gerard relaxed into the couch and focused on the steady ride and fall of Frank's breath. A few times it was broken by a soft sniffle or throat-clearing, but other than that it was a soft, drumming noise that seemed to drown out everything else in Gerard's brain.
It wasn't long until Frank fell asleep. His short, sharp inhales were soon replaced with long, deep sighs, and Gerard could feel the other began to twitch in his dreams. After a few moments, Frank grew tense, mumbling something incoherently and shifting against Gerard. Eventually, he fell silent again, but not before emitting a low, terrified whine.
Jesus - the guy really wasn't kidding about having bad dreams.
Pulling his arms off Frank's waist, Gerard moved slightly away, creating a small space between their bodies. With care and gentleness, he began to slowly draw circles on Frank's back with his nails. Frank shivered at the touch, and Gerard shushed him, rubbing another hand up and down his side. It was okay: Frank was safe.
Frank was here.
After a few long moments, he began to relax under Gerard's touch. The sound of his breath softened, and Frank's arms twitched lightly.
Despite how Gerard would press him, Frank would never remember his dreams in the morning. Or if he did, he simply refused to tell Gerard.
But that was fine. Gerard didn't need to know. He just needed Frank - calmed and relaxed in this moment. The soft sound of far away shouting drifted through the window and Gerard sighed, pulling Frank closer.
The world may have been awake, but in this bus they were asleep. It was it's own tiny world, revolving in a society of ten or so men.
Someone snored from the bunks, and Gerard yawned. Brian would have his ass on a platter if he was too worn out tomorrow, so he supposed he should sleep. Pushing his forehead against Frank's back, Gerard focused on the rise and fall of each breath.
He'd never been to the ocean, but Gerard figured this is what it felt like. The rhythmic crashing of sleep-driven waves, threatening to swallow him down while taunting him with the warm, sunny glow of nearby street lamps.
Letting his eyes drift shut, he drank in the smell of the leather couch, as well as Frank's oddly-scented deodorant. He really was tired, despite the heat.
Slowly, so slowly, Gerard began to slip into sleep.