Gerard pushed his bedroom door closed, then turned to face Frank and leaned his shoulder against the wall.

"Frank-"

"Were you with him?"

Gerard rubbed his face. "I-"

"Don't you give me any bullshit, Gerard." Frank noticed that his voice was shaking slightly. "I'm sick of that. I just want the truth. I don't want any fucking hidden messages, I don't wanna have to decipher what you're saying. I'm not gonna play that game. Just... Just tell me everything."

Gerard invited himself to sit on the bed beside Frank. He kept his eyes aimed squarely at his lap. "Frank, you know me," he said quietly. "You know who I am."

"Well, I sure thought I did."

"You do. Really. I just... Fuck. I know I fucked up, honestly, and it isn't like I expect you to ever forgive me. And you're right, I've been lying, I've been acting like a fucking crazy person today. I haven't been acting like myself, and maybe that's because I didn't want to sit down and think this whole thing through. I'm just... so bad at everything, especially emotional stuff."

"No offense, but that's no fucking excuse for treating me like shit, or deciding that it's okay to just drastically change my life, or thinking that I don't deserve to know things, or-"

"Frank, I know. And I'm sorry. I was avoiding all possible confrontation because I'm weak."

Frank sighed. "Can you just... tell me the whole story?" he asked. "Please? And then I'll go home, and you'll never hear from me again. Swear."

Gerard nodded slowly. "Bert and I started dating six years ago," he began. "Even six months in, I knew it wasn't going to work out between us."

"Then why did you stay with him?" Frank asked.

Gerard shot him a look. "Do you want your answers or not? Let me talk, and I promise I'll tell you everything." He sighed before continuing.

"I tried to break things off with him then. But... he wouldn't let me. And before you ask, that means that he got really, really upset, and told me that I was the only thing keeping him from ending it all. He said that if I left him, he would die the next day. After that, I forced him to go get some help for all of these depressive episodes. After another six months, I tried, again, to end it. But this time, he got mad. Like, really mad. And he started yelling and throwing things, and I ran out of the house, and he locked me out and told me not to come back until I was ready to commit to him. So I decided to take a walk, and I ended up on a street corner at the end of town. I leaned against that brick building and stood there for about five minutes. That's when I saw him. That short, dark boy walking towards me. He looked cold. He had one hand in his hoodie pocket, and the other one was holding a soda he had just picked up for his grandma. I had a second to decide what to do. In the end, I decided to creep on him and just reach out and touch him. And he didn't freak out and run away. To this day, I have yet to decide why he stayed there with me. We talked for only a minute before I told him to go home to his grandma. He looked down, and I had to run away before I did something stupid. But I did something stupid anyway. I ran down and around to that cruddy motel, and I asked the lady behind the desk about everyone who was staying in her rooms. She couldn't give me any information. So I ran down the street and into the gas station, and I almost threw myself over the counter onto the guy who worked there then, the one who was older than dust. I asked him if he'd seen anyone new around, and he said yes. 'Just some kid,' he'd said, some kid who was buying soda for his grandma's birthday party. 'Must be the old Iero lady,' he'd told me. I figured then that you must have been here to visit her for her birthday, and that maybe you'd be here again next year. And it was a long shot. But I told Bert, on the exact same night, that I wanted to go for a walk. And it just so happened that that same boy had decided to go for a walk, too. And we talked, lost track of time, and it was the best hour of my life. And before he realized he needed to get back to his grandma, he asked me... He said, 'When can I see you again?' And I smiled at him and I told him, 'Same time next year?' And with the smile that I could only identify as my own personal heartbreak, he was gone. Three years after that, I had already fallen head over heels for that boy. I had tried again and again to end things with Bert. And every time, he just said no. So finally I had moved out of his house and back in with my mom, because the only place I'd bought was with Bert, but he just kept showing up there. That's what happened earlier. Anyway, when I'd moved back in and was living with Mikey again, he kept asking questions. I lied to him. I told him I wanted to give up on Bert, but giving up wasn't my strong suit. He swallowed that like a pill and didn't ask anything else. Now, about last night: I tried. But Bert came over here at 7:45, and he was drunk off his ass. And he was getting scary. It was 9:30 before I was able to get him to relax. That's when I realized I wasn't ever getting away from him. I told myself I would never go to see you again. I had almost completely come to terms with all of this when you showed up in my living room. So you can imagine my shock. And that's probably part of why I was acting like a jackass, next to wanting to drive you away and not wanting to face the situation I was up against. Frank, I know how I feel about you. And I know that everyone in this town knows about me and Bert. That's why I kissed you... in an alley. And why I said I couldn't do anything in public. And why I was being an asshole. And why I was trying to run you off."

Frank sat there, waiting to see if any more words would come dripping off of Gerard's tongue, but there was nothing left. Gerard had put everything on the table, just like Frank had asked.

"Gerard... I'm sorry. About all of this."

Gerard huffed out a bit of pathetic laughter. "You just wouldn't go away, would you, Frankie?" he whispered. "So persistent. But I guess that isn't surprising. Don't be sorry, okay? It wasn't you who got himself into a bad relationship. It wasn't you who reached out and touched a cute stranger, now was it?"

Frank smiled slightly. "You thought I was cute?"

"Still do. Come on, Frankie, I kissed you. Or did you forget how quickly you became putty in my hands?"

"Don't push your luck here, Gerard."

Gerard laughed. "I wouldn't dare," he said. "This is the first time in a year you've not been mad at me."

Frank threw a playful shoulder against Gerard. He looked up at Gerard and smiled. "Well, I guess I really can't be mad at you anymore, huh? I mean, I can, because you cheated with me. A little. And you were mean. But you said sorry. So..."

"So you forgive me?" Gerard asked.

Frank answered with a light kiss. "I do," he said.

"So you're not gonna just up and leave me anymore, right?"

"I still have to go home. But maybe you will hear from me."

Gerard grinned. "Good. I'd want nothing more."

"But this hasn't solved the Bert problem, you know."

Gerard nodded. "I know. But we can figure that out later, right?"

"No, not right," Frank said. "It isn't fair to him. We feel this way about each other, but he still feels this way about you. And we have to settle it."

Gerard sighed. "I guess you have a point there." It was quiet in the room for only a moment before he spoke again.

"Hey Frank?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did you stay? You know, when some stranger touched your arm. Why didn't you run off?"

Frank grinned, shrugging. "Same reason I came back," he said, "Year after year. Those perfect, almond, brown eyes. They just... reeled me in and kept me there."

Gerard smiled and took one of Frank's hands. He pressed his lips against the back of it.

"Frankie?"

"Yes, Gerard?"

"My eyes are hazel."