Chapter Text
“Frankie! Frankie, wake up,” Gerard’s voice was too loud and excited for the late hour and Frank groaned from being jolted out of his sleep. Despite the heart to heart from the night before, Frank had come home to find Gerard locked in his studio once again. It had been Gerard’s day off too so Frank had expected some attention when he got home but all he got was a quick kiss and smile from Gerard when the man came out to make coffee. And now he was waking him up at… Frank checked his watch, 2am?
“Gee…” Frank whined, closing his eyes again.
“Frankie, come on.” Gerard got hold of Frank’s hand and tried to pull him out of the bed. When he couldn’t manage to drag Frank from under the blankets, Gerard changed tack and instead sat on Frank’s hips, bouncing excitedly; not in a sexual way, more like an overactive child.
“I don’t want to… it’s late,” Frank complained when he misunderstood Gerard’s intentions.
“No, Frankie,” Gee protested but then he stopped bouncing and slipped his hand under the blanket. “Oh… but maybe… you look so hot, baby.”
Frank’s eyes sprung open; it had been a long time since Gerard had said anything like that. The desire was there in Gerard’s eyes and it made Frank’s stomach twist even though seconds ago he really hadn’t been in the mood. Gerard slowly trailed one finger up Frank’s inner thigh.
“Gee?” Frank said quietly, not really fully awake and still trying to work out why Gerard had woke him up if it wasn’t for sex… but now maybe it was.
“Frankie…” Gerard let his hand rest on Frank’s hip but then something else flashed in his eyes and he seemed to remember this wasn’t his original plan. “Later… definitely later. Right now, you need to get up! It’s finished,” Gerard said eagerly, tugging Frank’s hand again.
“What?” Frank murmured, looking up at Gerard as he tried to process the words and keep up with the rapid cycling moods.
“My painting. My final assessment. It’s done,” Gerard said with a huge grin.
“Seriously?” Frank finally caught on to the excitement. With Gerard’s degree completed Frank could get his boyfriend back. Gerard would easily find work in his chosen field (he was so talented it was pretty much a dead cert) and Frank would feel wanted again, loved.
“Yep. All done.” Gerard got off Frank and started trying to extract him from the warm bed again. “Wake up. Look at it.”
Frank let Gerard pull him up and he looked around the room, frowning when there was no canvas in sight. Frank rubbed his eyes and looked again. Nothing.
“Where is it?” Frank asked, feeling stupid.
“In the studio. Come on.” Gerard pulled Frank to his feet and started dragging him down the hall, barely giving him time to pull on his boxers. Gerard stopped outside the closed studio door and turned to face Frank.
“Want me to wait here while you get it?” Frank asked, knowing exactly how Gerard felt about people being in his private space.
“No. You have to come inside,” Gerard said, his eyes lighting up and his smile edging wider (though it already looked like it would split his face).
“Really?” Frank was starting to feel anxious more than excited; Gerard never let anyone in his studio, not even Frank. It was new and scary… Frank shouldn’t be in the studio; it was forbidden. Gerard nodded rapidly, his hair flopping all around his face. But then he stopped wagging his head and stared at Frank curiously.
“Oh… Catholic guilt face. Not seen that in a long time,” Gerard said with a slight grimace.
“You haven’t seen my face in a long time,” Frank instantly replied then covered his mouth with his hand. He had let his nerves about entering Gerard’s studio get the better of him and his mouth had run away.
“I know. I’m sorry, honey. It’s been so hard being away from you, Frankie,” Gerard said softly. Gerard smiled shyly at Frank, looking for forgiveness. Frank smiled and moved his hand to reach up to wipe a splash of paint away from Gerard’s jaw. Gerard rested his head in Frank’s hand and hummed happily, his frenzied state briefly forgotten due to the feel of Frank’s skin on his.
“I know, sweetheart. I love you,” Frank said because he really meant it.
“I love you, baby. I’ve missed you. I know I’ve spent too much time making sure this painting was right… time I should have been spending with you.”
“It’s done now though?” Frank was really hoping the final piece didn’t need any adjustments or reworking; he wanted his boyfriend back.
“Yes. Come on.” Gerard suddenly remembered the urgency and grabbed Frank’s hand as he flung the studio door open. Frank would have hesitated stepping over the threshold of Gerard’s studio for the first time but he didn’t have the time to even think about it; Gerard yanked him through so forcefully Frank was surprised his arm stayed attached.
The wall Frank was facing was filled with pinned up pieces of paper and half finished canvases, just like he remembered from the one time Gerard had permitted him to look inside the studio. Frank tried to study each piece as quickly as possible for some perceptible change or to find one that looked important enough to be Gerard’s final assessed piece.
“Not that junk. Here,” Gerard said happily. Gerard put his hands on Frank’s shoulders and turned his full body so he was facing the long wall that separated the studio from their bedroom.
The entire wall was Gerard’s final piece of art work for his degree. Frank couldn’t comprehend it all and it took him several minutes of staring in silence to try and process Gerard’s masterpiece.
If Frank hadn’t have been standing in his boxers with 2am bed hair, he would have sworn he was looking in a mirror. A life-sized, almost photo real version of himself had been painstakingly replicated in paint on the wall. Painting Frank was wearing dark blue jeans, ripped at the knees (just like Frank’s favourite pair) and a t-shirt featuring his favourite band. It all looked so real; the exact tone of his skin with a slight blush on the cheeks, the way his hair fell over his forehead, it was even the right height.
Painting Frank wasn’t alone though; right by his side, holding his hand, was Painting Gerard. It was like another reflection off polished glass; Painting Gerard was as beautiful as the real thing. Frank took a longer time examining Gerard’s copy than his own. There was nothing out of place though, even the way the image was stood was a near perfect copy of Gerard’s self assured stance.
Painting Gerard was smiling, looking so proud and in love at the painted man by his side. Painting Frank was smiling too, his eyes were lit up and there was no doubt about what was making him smile.
Frank had to blink the tears away from his eyes so he could focus on the other aspects of the piece. The hand that wasn’t holding Gerard’s in the painting was wrapped around the neck of Pansy. The guitar was upright resting on the floor against Painting Frank’s leg, as though he was carrying it beside him. Frank briefly wondered if Gerard had been sneaking looks at the guitar when he wasn’t home since he had reproduced it so perfectly.
Next there was Lola, stood waiting patiently beside Pansy for her usual walk. Frank felt sure if he reached out and touched it he would be able to feel the dog’s soft fur, Gerard had painted it so realistically.
In the background of the scene was the hotel where Frank had stayed, all those months ago, and first met Gerard. They were much smaller and less detailed but Frank was sure he could see a Painting Ray and Painting Jamia stood outside in their uniforms, watching the happy couple at the forefront of the piece.
Mikey wasn’t forgotten either; he was leaning against his own car by the hotel with that special smile on his face that was so rarely seen. Even though Painting Mikey’s face was perfect, Frank didn’t miss the balled up, bloody red tissue on the floor by Painting Mikey’s black shoes.
Frank felt a pair of arms snake around his waist and the contact made him gasp; he had been so caught up in the painting that he had almost forgotten Gerard was stood behind him. Gerard rested his head on Frank’s shoulder and kissed the side of his neck.
“What do you think?” Gerard whispered.
“I… I think… it’s amazing, Gee,” Frank breathed. The sheer talent on display was overwhelming and Frank could hardly take it all in.
“Now you never have to be alone, baby,” Gerard said, squeezing him tighter. “See? I’m always with you. Right by your side.”
“It’s amazing,” Frank repeated in awe. “Like looking in a mirror.”
“Did I get all of your tattoos right?” Gerard asked softly.
“Yeah,” Frank said, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from Painting Gerard to check his own copy for any flaws. “Even the missing leg on the scorpion.”
“What about your hands? The Halloween? Go check.” Gerard released Frank and nudged him closer to the wall. Frank slowly walked a few steps forward to examine the painting closer.
Since one hand had hold of Pansy and the other was wrapped around Painting Gerard’s, the full tattoo wasn’t visible but from what Frank could see Painting Frank looked pretty perfect. Except one thing.
There was something on Painting Frank’s hand, the one that was clutching Pansy. It was only a tiny mark, just a flash of silver colour by one knuckle. Frank never wore jewellery but it looked almost like a ring.
When Frank turned around to question it, the rogue flash of colour was pushed out of his mind; Gerard was on the floor. The red haired man was crouched on the floor. No, not crouched.
Kneeling.
On one knee.
There were the beginning signs of tears in Gerard’s eyes but his face was euphoric; alive with passion and longing, with just a hint of nerves. Gerard wet his smiling lips and opened them like he was going to speak but instead he bit his bottom lip and inclined his head towards his hand.
Frank tore his confused eyes away from Gerard’s beaming face and forced himself to look at Gerard’s open palm. The band of colour on Painting Frank’s finger made complete sense now.
It was shaking slightly due to the nervous tremor in Gerard’s hand; when Frank blinked his own tears blurred his vision a little too. It was still clear though; the small black box on Gerard’s palm with a plain silver ring inside… Frank’s wedding ring.