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Gerard keeps telling himself that they can leave soon. He keeps telling Frank that too. Whispering it in the dark as they lie in their huge bedroom, Frank trying to will himself to sleep, and Gerard kind of terrified to close his close his eyes in case the night terrors come back. They haven't even bothered turning out the lights before bed in weeks. Gerard realizes after an hour of staring at the ceiling that they haven't really touched in days. Just the thought makes him want to roll over and pull Frank to him, but Frank only just got to sleep and Gerard doesn't want to risk waking him. They need to get out for at least a few hours, though. Maybe tomorrow.
Gerard wakes up kind of early—well, early for the time he went to sleep—and slips out of bed to go make coffee. He fixes both him and Frank a mug and takes it back to their room. He sets the mugs on one of the antique side tables and crawls back in bed. He wraps himself around Frank, nuzzling his cheek and neck.
"Mmmph," Frank says.
"Morning," Gerard whispers back. Frank turns in his arms and buries his face in Gerard's chest. "I think we should get out of here for a little bit today."
Frank blinks at him. Gerard can tell the second the sleep fog leaves his brain and he remembers where they are and what they're doing.
"Yeah," he croaks. "Yeah, that would be good." Gerard tightens his arm around Frank's waist and Frank clings back for a minute before rolling away and heading for the bathroom. They get ready in silence and let Bob and Ray know they're leaving. They get an absent wave of the hand from Ray and a grunt from Bob. They climb into the car and the second the gate closes behind them and they pull out onto the street, Gerard feels so much lighter. He glances at Frank and Gerard can tell he's feeling similar.
"It's so weird," Frank murmurs. "The house feels like it's out in the middle of nowhere. Like it's remote and isolated and it will take a million years to get back to civilization. But here we are on a normal residential street in Los Angeles. It's a mindfuck."
"That fucking house is a mindfuck." Suddenly their stubborn need to beat that goddamn house is feeling kind of stupid. "Let's go see Mikey. And then go to the mall or some shit."
The visit with Mikey is weird. He's doing a little better, Gerard can see that, and he's so, so grateful for it. He talks about coming back during the day for a little while at some point next week and Gerard nearly cries with relief. He misses Mikey. He needs Mikey - all of them do. But he's not quite the same Mikey he was. Maybe he'll never be the same. Gerard knows he's just going to have to get used to it, but right now it's strange. Disconcerting. He and Frank both hug Mikey for a long time before they leave and tell him to call soon.
Gerard has to pull over as soon as they're out of sight of Stacy's house and just breathe for a minute. Frank squeezes the back of his neck and they sit like that until Gerard takes one last deep breath and puts the car back in gear. He pulls away from the curb and drives to the nearest shopping area.
Gerard drives around for a while longer than necessary until he finds a deserted corner of the parking garage. Frank laughs at him. "This is a fucking Camry, Gee, not a sports car. You don't need to protect it."
"Whatever," Gerard retorts lazily. "Your short-ass legs can walk a little farther. I just want some -" He trails off. Space is what he wants. They don't have anything but space in the fucking house, but it's different out here. For a few seconds, he lets himself be irritated at the fact that he's letting the simple catharsis of a visit to the mall be marred by the chance that they'll be recognized, but then he shakes it off. They chose this, they get to deal with it.
Frank just lets it roll off his back, too. "You like my short-ass legs," he says easily and takes Gerard's hand.
He's right.
The mall is packed, as typical for a Southern California mall, but they only get stopped once. Gerard wraps his arm around Frank's shoulders for a picture, and then they escape into the store across the way.
It turns out to be a jewelry store. They spend a minute gawking at the horrendous, gaudy jewelry, but the wedding bands case catches Gerard's eye and he stares down at them. Most of them are pretty ugly, or just boring, but a set catches his eye and he can't stop staring.
"What'd you fi—oh," Frank says next to him. "Those, right?" He points through the glass at the rings Gerard was looking at.
"Yeah," he says quietly. He turns to look at Frank. He's really close, nearly touching Gerard. "Frankie..."
"Yeah," Frank answers. "Yeah," he repeats. After that, the salesperson is asking them questions and they don't talk much more. Just get sized and pull out their credit cards to pay for each other's ring. They slip the boxes in their pockets and walk out to the parking garage. Gerard puts the key in the ignition and turns it on, lets the air conditioning get going, but he doesn't start driving. He turns toward Frank in his seat and just stares at him for a minute. Takes in his mouth and eyes and piercings and the tattoo on his neck. And really, if Gerard needed any proof that Frank wants to be with him forever, that scorpion is it. Frank has other tattoos that Gerard knows represent him too, but this feels different. This is something they can share.
"Frankie," Gerard whispers. Frank meets his eyes and then he smiles. Heart-stoppingly gorgeous.
"I love you," Frank says and pulls the ring out, takes Gerard's left hand and slips it on his ring finger. And really, that's all they need.
"I love you too," Gerard replies, mirroring Frank's actions. Sliding the ring onto Frank's finger feels really fucking good. Gerard leans forward, runs a hand through Frank's hair and pulls him in and they kiss and kiss and kiss. They finally break apart when a horn honks a few rows over. Gerard slides his thumb along his ring and lets go of Frank.
"I don't want to go back to the house yet," Frank says.
"Me either," Gerard answers.
"Okay," Frank replies and crawls over the center console and gearshift to settle in Gerard's lap. Oh.
"Okay," Gerard breathes, threading his fingers through Frank's hair.
Frank slides his lips up Gerard's jaw and whispers in his ear, "Fuck, missed this. Fucking house." Gerard just moans and tightens his arm around Frank's waist.
"It's been too long," he mumbles against Frank's cheek. "Don't, don't let me..."
"I'm here for you. Always," Frank says, reaching for Gerard's hand and kissing the palm. And then, because he's fucking Frank, he guides it down to the crotch of his jeans. Gerard rubs over Frank's dick, then goes for his button and zipper. It's dim and Gerard regrets not being able to see Frank well, but touching him is just as good. He gets Frank's cock out and gives him a few good strokes before Frank bats his hand away and fumbles at Gerard's pants.
"You had to wear the tight fucking jeans," Frank grumbles.
"Shut up," Gerard says. "You like it." Frank really likes it; his face, angled close to Gerard's by the cramped space of the front seat, is a little flushed, lips parted. Gerard leans in and licks along his bottom lip.
Frank finally gets his pants unbuttoned and wraps a hand around both their cocks. "Fuck, Frankie," Gerard gasps and thrusts up. Frank braces a hand on the headrest behind Gerard, and Gerard turns his head to mouth at the tattooed stitches circling Frank's wrist.
"Nuh-uh," Frank whispers, leaning in and licking into Gerard's mouth. He kisses Gerard hard and messy while his hips roll in a slow but equally insistent rhythm.
Gerard is okay with slow. It's been too long and he's already so fucking turned on, but he doesn't want it to end right away. He slides his hands under Frank's shirt. Frank's warm, and Gerard can't see his skin but he knows every inch of it anyway. He follows the lines of unseen tattoos with his fingers, lifts a hand to tilt Frank's head and mouth at the ink on his neck.
Frank's hand on their cocks is a little rough, exactly the right amount of tight. "Your hands, Frank," Gerard murmurs.
"Yeah, it's pretty fucking good," Frank pants; he grabs Gerard's wrist with his other hand and pulls it to their cocks, then spits in his own palm and wraps his fingers around both of them again. "It'd be better if you helped."
Gerard laces his fingers around Frank's and they start stroking together.
"It's better," Gerard whispers.
"Better, best," Frank mumbles, biting back along the edge of Gerard's jaw. "Quick, I need -"
"Not gonna be long," Gerard says back. "Fuck, Frank, I fucking love you."
"I know," Frank gasps and speeds up their hands. Frank comes first, gasping out curses and Gerard's name alike and coming all over their hands and Gerard's t-shirt. Gerard grits his teeth, tips his head forward to press his forehead into Frank's shoulder, bathing the cotton in hot breath. Frank adds a twist to the top of his strokes, come slick between their joined fingers, and Gerard groans and bites down on Frank's collarbone and comes. They sit like that for a while, just panting together and enjoying being close.
Frank finally lifts his hand to his mouth and licks it clean before kissing Gerard again and crawling back into his seat. He zips his fly and rifles around in the glove box for napkins. He throws a handful at Gerard and swipes at the mess on his own clothes.
"You are so fucking filthy," Gerard breathes. He's watching Frank lick fastidiously in between his fingers, totally unable to look away. Frank laughs. Gerard's dick twitches even though he's just come, and he swipes half-heartedly at his own clothes with a napkin. The shirt's not really that bad.
They get themselves all put back together and Gerard reaches out and grabs the collar of Frank's shirt and pulls him in for a kiss. They make out like that for several moments until Frank pulls back, gasping. Gerard fiddles with the ring on his finger. The weight and feel of it isn't familiar yet and it's kind of fucking amazing to think that he has this after everything. "Okay," he says and reverses out of the parking spot.
"Just okay?" Frank says with a crooked smile.
"Maybe a little better than that," Gerard allows. Truth is, something bright and warm has bubbled up in his chest. Frank. His.
As Gerard pulls out onto the street, Frank bursts into giggles, studying his own hand. "We just sorta got married in a mall parking garage."
Gerard snorts. "We just fucked in one, too." He slides his sunglasses on, and reaches over to take Frank's hand. "Jersey for life, baby."
Frank grins and laces their fingers together. Gerard points the car back toward Silver Lake and drives. Going back to the mansion doesn't seem quite so daunting now.