Jersey Dirt Ch. 49: Bizarro World

Saturday mornings were starting to look the same for Frank. Soft breath warm against his face, usually it was the smell of stale coffee and shared cigarette. But this morning was different. What hit his face and sat between them was more than just something sweeter than Rolling Rock.

Now, it wasn’t like Frank wasn’t trying to snoop the night before. Gerard had passed out after a joint and a line of crushed pills that Frank pretended not to count—30 in the bottle, 30 in the baggie—which meant the night could have gone anywhere. Party down the hall, a door he knew would unlock for him…a sketchbook that laid on the nightstand that practically opened itself with a nudge.

Page after page of what came out of the snoring pile next to him. Dead eyed girls covered in blood, a couple of new tattoo ideas Frank had spent last Wednesday night planning out after they decided to not figure out where the music in the hall was coming from—no mystery girl.

Though Frank had to admit, Gee was getting a lot better at drawing him fresh out of the shower. 

Sleep wasn’t something that came easy to Frank. There was always something buzzing around in his head. Since it couldn’t be the girl, it had to be the song. 

He kept amps low, tried to pull something out of him that did Gee’s lyrics some justice.

A line on the table. A melody that sounded almost worthy. 

By the time he’d stitched something worth a damn the light hit his reddened eyes. Too white. Too honest. It hits the empty bottles, the cables on the floor, the notebook Gerard didn’t put away. 

One of Frank’s shirts is twisted around Gerard’s wrist, damp at the cuff, smelling like soap and something floral that doesn’t belong to either of them.

“C’mon, get up” Frank whispered close to Gerard's ear. “We’ve got time.”

The world started off blurry, just like it always was after too many drinks. A press of slick metal against his lips was enough to bring everything into focus. The taste of Frank’s breakfast of Marlboros cut through the acid and the cotton-mouth tongue dragged against his like the best alarm clock he could afford. 

For a moment, Gerard had thought it was Chrys—that’s who he’d been dreaming about all night.. It was the first time Frank’s face was a disappointment. Before he could get another word out Frank met him with another kiss and a lump of cotton pressing into him had enough to drag out a small whine. 

But there was something…missing. Usually when Frank kissed him, Gerard’s body responded eagerly. Warmth too low, Fighting against loose boxers, waiting for the moment when all he could feel was how much Frank liked him. This morning though? all that his stomach felt was something tight.  

“Not really in the mood,” he mumbles,

Frank pulls back, giving Gerard a small laugh, “Since when?”

Gerard shrugs, starts unwinding the sleeve from his wrist. Slow. Careful.

“Ah,” he says, falling back onto his elbows, trying his best to sound unbothered, “that girl must’ve been good.”

The accusation pulled him up by the hair, “W-what girl?”

Frank nods toward the nightstand, the open notebook with the torn out page—-he hated that his roommate was a fucking snoop. 

“The one in your notebook,” he says easily, “Whoever got close enough to make you shower for a whole 20 minutes,”

“There’s no girl,” Gerard groans, more at the pain in his head than the one laying next to him flicking a lighter, “We work together.”

Frank laughs—it’s not like Gerard needed to lie, and he wasn’t very good at it as FAr as Frank could tell.  

“It’s cool, Gee. About time you got your dick wet.” He shrugs, casual. “Just don’t go fuckin up a good thing—”

“A good thing?: 

“Y’know,“he gestures around them, amps, guitars, the room,  “—this.”