Game-Frerard

Bonding time..? Why in the hell had he agreed to do this? Stupid Mikey and his stupid ideas... Camping. Of all things, camping?! They were a band, for Christ's sake, how could they not spend enough time together? Frankie unfurled his sleeping bag in the tent and clambered ungracefully back outside to join the guys around the fire... If you could call it that. It was barely lit. Ray was on his hands and knees beside it, blowing on the fire in an attempt to get it going. "Dammit! Light, you stupid fire!" Ray grumbled irritably, blowing harder. "Careful, Ray. Don't wanna light the 'fro," Bob warned, a grin on his face. "You're funny..." Ray started, getting up and brushing himself off. "Why don't you try?" Bob was about to protest, but Gerard's voice interrupted. "Move over, boys... Daddy's got the big guns..." They looked up to see their vocalist holding a can of paint thinner and a lighter. "Hell, no. I'd like to live, thanks," Ray stated, crossing his arms. "Oh, you'll live, Toro. Just get a little singed, is all." Ray turned to see Bob with an amused look on his face. "Thanks." Gerard circled around the embers, pouring paint thinner on the wood and leaves while humming a tune. "It is DONE! Now we light..." Gerard clicked the button on the black lighter, blue flames erupting from the tip and lighting the end of a stick to throw on the pile. Mikey, closest to the firepit, jumped back at the feeling of intense heat surrounding him. "I'm not on fire, right?!" he asked, panicky. "Yeah, you are. That's why we're just standing here all nice and calm," Frank replied sarcastically. "Well, you would probably do that if I was aflame..." Mikey muttered. "Good to know you trust us, Mikey. Especially your own brother," Gerard joked, smacking him on the back. "So, who wants a beer?"

~

"DEEEEEEYAM, that's good! Wha's innit?" Gerard giggled, gesturing to his half-empty glass. "Alcohol, Gee..." Frank repeated for the twentieth time. "Alca-hoola whatta? I can't hear ya, Frankie, SPEAK UP!" he yelled, causing Ray to succumb into a giggle fit. "ALCOHOL. You know, what you're 99% made of," he answered, rolling his eyes at the other man's actions. "I'm made a' alcohol? That's so fuckin, fluckin, fruckin INTERESTING, Frankster! I had NO ideaaa..." he giggled the last part, spilling his drink in the process. "Whoopsie! Aw well... Hey, did I get some on you, Ray? I'm sorry..." he laughed, looking at Ray's sitting form that was now drenched in Vodka. "Those Russians. How dare they make such good alcohol. Wha' 'bout 'chou, Frankie? Why don't 'chou have some?" he offered drunkenly, holding out the bottle to him. "Uhm... No thanks. I'm good," he replied, waving away the bottle. " 'Mkayyyyy... But you can't have any after thisss..." he warned, offering the bottle one last time. "No, thanks..." he declined again. "Fine..." Gerard put the bottle down beside Ray's sleeping form again, taking a swig from his glass. They grew silent, watching the fire and listening to the night sounds of their bandmates' soft snoring. "Hey, Frankie..." Frank looked over to see Gerard's flushed face. "Wanna play a game?" he asked, a slur still evident in his speech. "At..." he checked his watch. "3:46 in the morning? Sure," he shrugged, looking back at the fire. " 'K. It's called 'What If'. I ask you a 'what if blah blah blah' and you answer truthly, truthfully, something like that... Don't lie..." he tried to explain. "... Ok. Do I start?" Frank asked, pointing at himself. Gerard shrugged, a silly, drunken smile on his face. "If ya want to..." he replied. "Ok... Um... What if I said I never wanted to come on this little campout?" he asked, inclining his dark head to look at his drunk friend. "I'd say neither did I. My turn. Uhhh... Le'ssee... What if I said my favorite color's pink?" he asked, taking another swallow of Vodka. "I'd say I you're probably lying, but if not, ok. Hmm... What if... What if I said I swing both ways..?" he asked. Aw well. He wouldn't remember anything that was said tonight, anyway. "I'd say I've figured that for a while now, and so do I," he answered, setting his glass down. "What if I said I'm glad everyone else's asleep and it's just us?" he asked, getting up from his spot to walk over to Frank. "U-Uhm... I'd say you probably want to tell me something..." he mumbled, flustered. "What if I... What if I said I am, too?" he asked, feeling childish that he was embarrassed so easily. Gerard crouched so he was level with Frankie's sitting position. "I'd say you probably feel the same way about me the way I feel about you," he answered, lifting his hands to cradle Frankie's face. "What if I kissed you?" he murmured, his eyes glazed over with lust. Frank's breath hitched at Gerard's tone, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. "I - I would say..." he swallowed, seeing the look in his best friend's eyes. "I'd say go ahead..." he breathed, eyes traveling down to Gerard's plump lips as they drew in closer, his own puckering up. It was a chaste kiss that steadily grew hungrier, with teeth and tongue and moans and grunts. As corny as it sounded, Frank had never felt what he felt right then. Gerard was so perfect. It was like he filled a hole that Frank could never figure out what would fill it. All of the feelings he couldn't name that rushed into his being at concerts now made sense. All caused by Gerard, all made for Gerard... And that feeling of satisfaction for about three seconds after their little show for the fangirls and homophobes that fell away when Gee left; Gee's doing. All of it. Jamie was sweet; but Gee was sweeter. Gee filled the void in him- Gee was drunk. His eyes shot open at the realization he'd just had. His Gee was drunk. Probably didn't even realize what he was doing... He pulled away, the suction of their lips parting the only sound in the night air besides the dying, crackling fire. He dropped his hands from Gee's face, sliding them downwards until they found his hands. "Gee... You're drunk. You won't remember a thing tomorrow," he said gently, stroking the other's hand with his thumb. His brows knitted together in confusion when Gerard laughed. "How could I forget kissing you, Frankie? I've only wanted to since I first saw you..." he smiled, his eyes half-lidded. Frank sighed, squeezing Gerard's hands once more before letting them go. Gerard grabbed tham again, though, smirking. "Don't get dramatic, Frankie... Ask me another question," he said, gripping his lead guitarist's calloused hands. Frankie watched him, thinking of questions. "What if I said I wished you weren't drunk, weren't married, and loved me?" he asked, thinking how pathetic that sounded. His eyes widened at the scarily-sober sounding laugh, feeling Gee peck his lips against his warm cheek. "What if I said I wasn't drunk that whole time?"
...
Oh, hell no...