Written for Simon Fink for the 2009 xmas_rocks exchange
| This story is a work of fiction and therefore completely untrue. No harm or libel is meant or implied about any of the individuals named within this work and it was written without their involvement or permission. No profit is being made. |
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"Hey!"
Frank turned slowly, hefting his little messenger bag up on one shoulder. There was way too much shit stuffed into it, he hadn't been on a vacation in... what felt like fucking years. It was touring, touring, home, touring, sick, touring, home sick, and more touring for him. And he liked it that way, but taking a week in California with some of his best friends... He was bound to bring home souvenirs. "Who's that, with the sexy digestive tract?" Frank squinted, then took a few long (for him) strides, meeting James halfway and hugging him. "You've been reading our Twitter?" "Getting fuckin' updates on my phone." "You are not." "Fucking right I am." James slipped the bag off Frank's shoulder, swinging it onto his own easily. Anyone else and Frank would have punched them, but James got away with everything. "You get me anything? Ray did. He called me." "You should have been there." Frank's words were mumbled and slurred together when he stretched, nearly toppling over as his muscles realigned. James put his free hand on Frank's back to keep him upright and propelled him towards the baggage claim. "Nah, I had shit to do." "Oh, sure, your life is always so full of shit." James laughed, letting his arm move to rest around Frank's shoulders instead. "So really, did you bring me anything?" Frank turned a bit, punching James in the side. "I brought you my loveable face. Also, some plague I picked up on the plane. Happy Christmas!" James wrinkled his nose at the hit, swinging Frank's bag off his shoulder and tossing the strap around Frank's neck. Frank almost went down from the weight, leaving James to prance away. He only made it about ten feet before someone stopped him. A couple someones, actually, a group of kids in sundry and varied band merch. Frank watched with a grin as James ran a hand through his hair and then casually shifted into the James they all wanted to talk to. He took a proffered marker and signed a few things. Frank turned away at this point, watching intently for his bag and hoping he wouldn't get stopped. Maybe it was a bit Scrooge-y of him, but he was sick. Like always, he reminded himself, and that had never stopped him from meeting fans before. He fought with himself internally while he grabbed his bag off the conveyor and struggled to get the handle out. He'd just made up his mind to go over when he felt James' arm loop around his shoulders again. Frank blinked doe-eyes up at James. "You didn't rat me out. Gerard would have been fucking calling my name." James easily withdrew the handle on Frank's suitcase with his one free hand, twirled it around in a move that always knocked shit over when Frank tried to do it, and led Frank towards the nearest elevator that opened into the parking garage. "Who says they were your fans, anyway?" Frank laughed, throwing his entire weight against James in an effort to at least momentarily deter him from his course. It didn't work. "Like our fans are mutually exclusive?" "Sometimes they are. All those kids who cried tears of woe all over the internet when the rumor got around that I joined you guys for real?" James pressed up on the elevator, and the doors opened as if the elevator was waiting just for them. "Fuck, I need a cigarette." Frank raised an eyebrow at James, who pointedly ignored it, leading Frank onto the elevator. "I thought the tears of woe were related to the end of Reggie." James laughed, pressed the eight and the door close button, and made an apologetic face at a woman in a business suit coming towards the elevator. The doors closed and the elevator began to move. "You're such an asshole." James grinned, using his arm around Frank's shoulders to turn Frank and press him back against the elevator wall. They were kissing before Frank really realized what was going on, and he broke away with a laugh. "There are cameras in here, fucker." "Dude, how much could we sue the airport for if they released security camera images to the press? So fucking much, is the answer." Frank couldn't argue with this, nor could he argue with James' hand on the small of his back, holding him at just such an angle that Frank couldn't pull away until James let him go. Something else James got away with that no one else could. The elevator chimed and James pulled away, completely at ease with himself. Frank huffed, straightening his jacket and re-adjusting his bag. "I hate it when you do that." "'Cause you don't want to get caught?" "No, 'cause you always do it when we don't have enough time." James gave Frank a look as the elevator doors opened and they walked into the bitter cold of the parking garage. James dug around in his pockets, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, flipping it open with a flick of his thumb and pulling two cigarettes out with his lips. He replaced the pack, withdrew a lighter, lit them both, and handed one to Frank, all in the span of about three seconds. Frank accepted the cigarette with grunt, taking a slow drag. It had been a longer flight than he was willing to admit. They approached James' car, lights flashing as James hit the auto-locks. Even the trunk popped open with a remote control button, and Frank tossed his carry-on in while James lowered the handle on Frank's suitcase and hefted it in. "What'd'ya fuckin' keep in there, bricks?" James mumbled around his cigarette, clenched between his teeth. Frank laughed, using James' distraction as an excuse to shove him and actually send him stumbling. He dashed around the car, only to be caught by James on the far side. James lifted Frank off his feet, impervious to Frank's struggles. "You wanna start something, kid?" "You're only thirty-two!" Frank screeched like a child denied his favorite toy, flailing with all four limbs. James carried Frank back around the car and set him down, using his entire body to press Frank against the passenger side door. James leaned in until their noses almost touched, looking into Frank's eyes. "You gonna keep being a little bastard?" "Would you like me any other way?" Frank laughed, putting both hands on James' chest and pushing him away. "You make a valid point, sir." James stepped back with a little bow and moved to the driver side door, Frank climbing into the passenger seat and, as per James' car rules, buckling his seat belt. They left the parking garage at a speed that Frank would find disturbing if it were anyone else driving. He wasn't sure how James could drive like a banshee and not only never get caught, but never get in an accident. Frank took the opportunity to eye James, give him the good once over that he couldn't in the airport, where people watched. "So, where are we going?" James asked, lighting a second cigarette off the end of his first, flicking the butt out the window. "Dani's home, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind seeing you." James cut across two lanes of traffic on his way to the highway. Someone honked and he honked back, cursing as well. Frank laughed into his hand. James continued his running monologue as if nothing had happened. "Or we could go to your place." "My place. Jamia's visiting her parents up until Christmas Eve." James took the nearest off ramp, crossing three lanes of traffic this time to get into the car pool lane, roaring his way across the George Washington bridge. "We doing anything for Christmas?" "I talked to Mikey and Ray about maybe actually doing something. Going to the diner or something." "That'd be sweet." James gave Frank a sidelong glance, lighting a third cigarette. "If I'm invited." "How could I not invite you?" James laughed, and they lapsed into comfortable silence as James turned the stereo up. It wasn't a long drive to Frank's house, middle-of-nowhere though it was. No where in Jersey was a long drive from New York. James pulled up and climbed out of the car and was immediately set upon by a number of small (and a few not-so-small) dogs. He picked Buckley up out of the crowd and gave his favorite a hug. Frank laughed, paying equal attention to each of his dogs, in turn. James carried both of Frank's bags into the house, so Frank could carry Mama. That damn dog never walked anywhere if Frank could help it. Once inside, with the heat running, James waited for Frank to set Mama down, then picked him up, hefting Frank over his shoulder and carrying him into the spare bedroom. They had one rule, and it was no sleeping in the married beds. James tossed Frank down onto the bed and crawled in next to him. Frank grabbed a handful of James' hair and pulled him down for a kiss that split James' chapped lip. "Ow, fucker." James growled as he pulled back, though there was a spark of laughter in his eyes. "You really are trying to give me the plague." "If we're going down, it's gonna be together." Frank pulled at James' shirt, James batted his hands away and took it off himself. Frank elected to take his own shirt off instead. "I already gave it to everybody else." "You been making out with the others? So much for the sanctity of marriage." James' hands moved in for Frank's belt buckle, Frank returned the favor. "Nah, just close living quarters. Gee's baby's probably gonna be born with the same fucked up immune system as me." Frank finally managed to pull James' belt from it's loops, shoving his jeans down. James reciprocated easily, sticking a hand swiftly into Frank's boxers. "You're such an asshole, dude." Frank gasped, lifting his hips against James' hand. "You fucking love me that way." He tangled a hand in James' hair again, pulling him down and pulling his head to the side, biting down on the side of James' neck. "No marks, fucker." Two rules. Frank laughed against James' throat. "Yeah, man, I know." Frank bit down again, in a different place this time. He knew exactly how hard he could bite before it would leave a mark. "I take it you missed me then." James gave Frank a little squeeze, punctuated by a raspy laugh. "Fuck," Frank breathed, jerking his hips. "You're coming with us next time." "Gladly." James gave Frank a kiss that was notably softer, sweeter than the previous kisses. "Always looking for a good opportunity to join the mile high club." "Pervert." James rolled over, one hand still firmly in Frank's boxers, the other opening a drawer and pulling out a condom that Frank always kept at hand. "You fucking know it."
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