The Confrontation
Dec. 27th, 2007 02:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
justtotheseaThe thing is, I was supposed to portray Gerard as pure asshole, but I had trouble making him pure asshole because it just never fit right. But Bert will still call him an asshole enough times to make up for it. It’s a web of relationships and lies, lies! I tried to refrain from wife drama.
It was, at first, a conversational piece. Then I re-read it and started going "just something here, ooh, maybe this should be re-written there" and fuck. Now I have something over seven-thousand words long which I am praying makes sense. If you are confused as shit by the end I give you full permission to bitch slap me. Hold me to that if it doesn't.
I blame Princy (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ate_my_brain) for actually encouraging me to write this instead of stopping me. Consider that a dedication, because ilu ♥
Summary: Bert confronts Gerard and calls him out on, basically, everything.
The Confrontation
Bert/Gerard
pg/swearing || 7,950~ words
It was, at first, a conversational piece. Then I re-read it and started going "just something here, ooh, maybe this should be re-written there" and fuck. Now I have something over seven-thousand words long which I am praying makes sense. If you are confused as shit by the end I give you full permission to bitch slap me. Hold me to that if it doesn't.
I blame Princy (
ate_my_brain) for actually encouraging me to write this instead of stopping me. Consider that a dedication, because ilu ♥Summary: Bert confronts Gerard and calls him out on, basically, everything.
The Confrontation
Bert/Gerard
pg/swearing || 7,950~ words
So he sees him just walking across the street, right across the fucking street and he makes a run for it. He hears the cars beeping at him and the people yelling at him, but he just ignores them and runs.
He's through with hiding from this motherfucker, he's just done with it.
He catches up with him just as he's turning the corner. They're in LA, he's almost surprised that he could spot him in the crowd, but then thinking about it, this is Gerard. How could you mistake him for anyone else.
He slows down a bit before he reaches him. Panting, he decides he'll catch his breath first, before he fucking tells him, before he'd say- what? He hasn’t thought about that. Hasn’t thought about any of this, it's just happening.
But there’s no time to actually think about it anyway, because Gerard’s right there and if this doesn’t happen now...
He catches his breath, and walks up to him, places a firm hand on Gerard’s shoulder.
Gerard snaps his head around. “What the fuck do you think you’re—” He stops when he sees Bert. And then he just blinks, his mouth opening and closing a few times but no words come out. He doesn’t know what to say.
“You know, you could maybe say, hi or something.” Bert keeps his eyes on the ground, scuffing the toe of his shoe on the pavement. A distraction.
“Um,” Gerard says, “let’s… let’s go inside… there.” He looks over Bert’s shoulder and points to a small coffee shop.
Bert nods and says, “Yeah.” Not looking up.
They turn around and walk back across the street, and it’s so awkward. Bert’s really regretting this.
Bert’s pretty sure he’s just being paranoid, but it feels like everyone else can sense the tension and are staring right at them, knows who they are, and knows their history. Like everyone on the streets of LA just know and are watching. He clenches his fists at his sides to stop his hands shaking.
They’re both wearing those large sunglasses- Bert’s are a bit smaller though, not covering half his face like Gerard's.
He realizes that, on Gerard, they’ve always bothered him. It’s always been like Gerard specifically chose to wear them on the worst fucking occasions. Because right now, Bert could’ve done with seeing Gerard’s expression. Read it on his face how he feels about what’s happening.
They get inside, both gesturing awkwardly for where to sit. They settle on a booth in the far back near the bathroom.
Bert’s stomach keeps flipping and making him feel queasy every time he glances at Gerard when the other man isn’t looking. Soon enough Gerard catches his eye and smiles, though, it looks more like a grimace, and Bert returns it.
“So…” Gerard finally says.
Bert’s about to say something back but then a women walks up to them and asks them what they’d like to have. He’s resigned to staying quiet until Gerard sends her away.
“Waitress service in a cheap café, that’s… new,” Gerard says, trying for a lame joke to ease the situation. Bert attempts to let out a small chuckle but it comes out as more of a cough. They're both quiet after that. The unfunny joke didn’t make sense, anyway.
They look around the place a little. Not many people, maybe 5 or so others in the room.
Gerard’s tapping his fingers on the table. He stops himself each time he almost hums, slightly bopping to a little rhythm in his head. Bert wishes he could be like that; calm, collected and distant and not let this get to him so much. But he doesn't get an easy beat in his head like Gerard- he gets his fucking thoughts.
Bert finds himself staring at Gerard's hand, at the ring. He sort of smirks bitterly to himself and decides to say something.
“Why did you want to—“
“When did you get back to LA—”
They say at the same time.
Both of them laugh, though, it's obvious it's more nerves than any actual humor, and it boils down to awkward silence again before it even begun.
Gerard tries to stay cool, but this is fucking awkward. They haven't seen each other in so long and he knows Bert’s bitter. He’s heard it. He heard it in the media, heard it in the music. It’s everywhere, how can you not hear it.
So it makes him edgy. But he can hide it well enough. He wants to know what Bert wants from him now, why after all this time he'd just come up to him on the street?
But then again, he's scared if the answer might be hard to hear. Hard to deal with.
Bert’s not looking at Gerard because he can feel that stare on him, trying to break him and see into him. Decrypt him just by observing him. And Bert’s not going to give him that.
It's almost like Gerard can see the shield Bert puts up, the way he's blocking him, and tries to make conversation. “So, um, I was saying, when did you get back to—“
“Don't. Are you- you're seriously going to do that?” Bert interrupts him. He’s looking down at the table, his arms crossed in front of him. If he got them both here to do this then he doesn’t want to drag it out. No fucking formalities, they're way past that. “Are we seriously going to do this and just sit here and chat about- act like we never- Like... fuck."
Gerard looks down at his lap, his voice is small as he mumbles, “I don't... don't know what you're... Bert. There's nothing to talk about. I—”
“Cut the bullshit, Gerard,” he snarls. And there's something, something in Gerard's composure that falters- his mask slips.
“Stop doing that. Stop cutting me off like that,” Gerard snaps back angrily.
"I'm not sitting here just to listen to this fucking shit," Bert growls.
"Don't start this, Bert. Don't. Fucking stop."
“Yeah? Fucking, make me,” Bert challenges.
Gerard grips the edge of the table hard, his knuckles going white. He's trying to restrain himself from rising from the table and taking Bert up on his challenge. But he's not a fighter, that isn't the way he deals with things. But even so, somehow, Bert has always known how to get under his skin. Without even trying.
They’re staring at each other now. They feel angry. Angry like they used to be— angrier.
Gerard looks down at the table, a bitter smile on his lips. He has that look, the one that says, ‘I should’ve known better’ and makes a move to get up.
“I don’t need this,” he says, and stands away from the table.
“Gerard,” Bert says, his voice dangerously low, “you better sit back fucking down, or I swear—”
“Oh, what? You’re going to hit me?”
“Gerard, sit down. You owe me—“
“I owe you nothing.”
“You owe me 6 fucking years. Now sit your fucking ass back down!” Bert yells.
Gerard looks at him, hell, everyone in there looks at him. And Gerard knows not to push it. Not to make a scene- not to make a bigger scene. So he sits down.
Bert looks away again, because again, Gerard’s just looking at him like that and he can’t stand it, because it’s all like suffocating, like someone has a hand wrapped around his throat. And that doesn’t even feel like an exaggeration.
Gerard sighs, taking off his glasses and slumping in his seat. “Why do you want to do this?”
“Because,” Bert says, his tone is softer now, “it needs to come out.”
“Does it?” Gerard asks, still staring at him, analyzing Bert carefully.
“Yeah,” Bert chokes out.
Gerard narrows his eyes. He thinks about just getting up to leave again, but he knows Bert would just go after him. He sighs, defeated and asks, “Well, where do you wanna start?”
“How’s Frank?”
Gerard winces and regrets taking off his glasses, he feels way too exposed now. He wants to reach for them and put them back on, but Bert already took them off the table.
He’s fiddling with them. Gerard wonders how he’s going to wear them again without thinking about that.
“He’s fine,” Gerard says tonelessly.
Gerard’s lying, Bert’s not stupid, he knows. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah.”
“Last I heard he got married.”
“He did.”
“So he’s happy?” Bert is relentless, trying to hit Gerard where it hurts.
“He is.”
“What about you?”
“I’m fine. I’m happy for him.”
Bert pushes, “Just like he was happy for you—?”
“Fuck off.”
’Gotcha,’ Bert thinks. He smiles and says, “What’s wrong, I thought you were fine—“
“We’re not talking about that, Bert.”
Bert smirks, still fidgeting with Gerard’s glasses. He looks up at Gerard, smiling wide at him. “So who called it off? Him or you?”
“Bert—”
“Because I know that with us it was you. But - lame as fuck as it sounds - I didn’t know any better then.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what? Ooh,” Bert smiles, musing, and continues, “so it was him. Figures.” He puts Gerard’s glasses down. His smile broadens and Gerard knows there’s intent to mock him with it, to show how fine with all this Bert is, even though they both know pretty fucking well that he isn’t.
“Hey,” Bert says after the pause, “you know, I saw all that stuff that happened on Projekt Rev. What? Did Frankie think that meant that you were finally gonna come out about everything?”
Gerard doesn’t say anything, and Bert lets out a loud cackle. “He did! Oh, man. The poor dude. And you were already married! Ha! He must’ve fucking shit himself! But you’d think he’d know better, what with us as an example and all.”
Gerard can feel the heat in his face and clenches his fists. He doesn’t want to do this. He doesn’t want to face it. Not now. Not like this.
Bert knows Gerard’s getting angry, so he continues, “Good for him, though. For getting out of it and all. The guy knows he deserves better, hey, maybe I did too, fuck if I know.”
“Please,” Gerard pleads, his voice meek.
“Oh, you’re doing the begging thing, sweet,” Bert smiles.
“Don’t do this.” Gerard isn’t looking at him, can’t bring himself to when they’re talking about... this.
“Hey, if I don’t push it you’ll never face up to it, so think of it as spiritual guidance or some shit, I don’t know,” Bert says.
Gerard pales, looking almost sick. “I hate you.”
“Yeah, I know, you’ve said that before. A lot. Sing a new tune, Jesus.”
“I meant it.”
“Ouch, right to the heart, fucker.” Bert feigns the look of pain on his face. Though, to Gerard it could almost look believable.
“You’ve said it back. I heard the record, I listened to the EPs and shit.”
“Think those love songs are about you, too, huh. Probably do.” Bert grins to himself, bemused, and starts singing, "I'll bet you think this song is about you. Don't you? Don't you?" Until a few other people are staring at them.
Gerard — unphased to the behavior he'd gotten used to a long time ago — asks, “They’re not?”
Bert sits back and answers, “Can’t say. Artistic integrity and all, ya know.”
“Yeah.”
They're silent for a while. This whole thing is draining already, tiring. And it's only fucking begun.
“I saw you and her," Bert finally says, cutting into the thick silence with only light chattering and the sounds of plates and cups clattering in the background filling out the quiet. He continues, "You know, with the matching shirts thing. Cheesy as fuck. Isn’t that just asking the fucking world to question if it’s fake or not?”
Gerard goes even paler, but the expression on his face is inscrutable as he answers, “No one seemed to.”
And fuck, that’s the closest Gerard’s come to admitting the truth this whole time.
Bert shrugs, hunches forward a bit and takes off his glasses too.
He’s wondering whether he should ask or not, maybe leave this particular question unanswered. He knows it’ll sound like he wants pity, knows it’ll be pathetic but he has to know, needs to. And today seems to be all about confrontation, so he may as well.
Bert bites the bullet and asks, “I really wasn’t worth it, was I?” There’s no actual emotion in the tone, it’s just a question. To Gerard it sounds like something Bert’s wondered about for a long time.
Gerard’s lips are in a straight, thin line, he’s looking down. He doesn't know how to respond to that.
“Guess not,” Bert says with a sigh. “I thought Frank would be, though. That just always seemed to… work… right.” He pauses before asking, “Does she know?”
“Bert,” Gerard says. He shakes his head. “No, I draw the fucking line there, we’re not talking about her.”
“She doesn’t.”
“Whether she does or doesn’t isn’t your fucking business.”
“How could you not tell her?”
“Fuck- don’t- did you tell Alison? Huh?”
“Yeah, I told her the truth, Gerard. I love her. The feelings I have for her are real, I’m not a fucking asshole that would marry someone for a cover—“ A man stares at them from another table, Bert smiles at him broadly - almost frightening until the man huffs and turns away - before leaning over and whispering, “a cover up. Fuck, how could you not tell her?”
“Shut up.”
“And do you actually think there’s ever going to be a guy that can put up with that shit? Be in the closet with you forever? ‘Cause I wouldn’t and Frank won’t either. You’re gonna be alone, and you’re gonna die a fucking liar—”
“Shut up. Stop it, stop, no! Frankie loves me, he gets it!” Gerard yells.
“Gerard.”
“He does- he loves me. He’ll come around, he just… he's just angry.” Gerard's eyes are closed tightly. Blocking everything out, blocking Bert out from voicing his fears.
“Gerard.”
He starts shaking his head, the words come out desperate, “Frank’s not like you, he’s not gonna leave me like you did. He gets it- he understands!”
“Gerard! Fucking- stop yelling, people are staring, asshole!” Bert hisses.
Gerard turns his head away, keeping his voice down as he says faintly, “He won’t leave me like you.”
Bert stares at him incredulously. “I left you? You dumped me, what the fuck are you talking about?”
“You fucking started turning on me with the whole ‘come clean with everyone’ shit. Like everyone was just gonna be fine with me- with," he pauses, looks around and then leans forward to say, hushed, "with me being gay. No. You couldn’t just be happy with the way things were.”
“The way things were? Fuck, Gerard, you weren’t happy with way things were either, don’t fucking kid yourself.”
“It would’ve been fine! But you just kept wanting more from me, more, more. Fuck, it was never. Just. What the fuck more did you want!?”
“All I wanted from you was you! But you're not even your fucking self anymore. The fuck is wrong with you? It- what. I don't. Fuck. I'd like to see what all your fans would do if they knew their "hero" was a 31 year old closet fag!”
"No, no! Fuck you, Bert. You're wrong! You're fucking-"
"Shut the fuck up. I'm sick of your bullshit!"
"I'm sick of yours, you fucking hypocritical son of a bitch. Stay the fuck out of my life, go back to your gi-"
"I fucking swear, Gerard. If you finish that sentence I'll break your jaw." He stares menacingly, daring Gerard to answer back, see if he means it.
Gerard doesn't say a word.
They’re both breathing a little heavily from the exchange. Bert’s glaring at Gerard, and the older man can feel himself backing down. He can feel that pain in his stomach and that throb at the back of his head, drumming the words, ‘you were wrong’ over and over. And he knows he was- is. But it’s too hard to admit.
Bert looks expectantly at him, waiting for him to argue back. But Gerard’s got nothing to say again, nothing he can say. He’s a coward and he knows it.
Bert's glad they're sinking back into the quiet. Couldn't take it if Gerard had said anything else, any harmless thing. He would've beaten him bloody and unconscious, because there is some shit you just don't take from Gerard Way.
The downside to the quietness is the sensations and memories it's all bringing back. It lets the anger dissipate and just leaves... them.
And it’s so fucking frustrating, because just being around Gerard, in his presence, reminds Bert of back then. Back when they were together, and it felt fun and stupid and perfect and just endless.
Back when he'd pull Gerard into a dark corner before a show – just when the lights went out and it was time for one of them to take to the stage – and they would steal touches and kisses and private moments.
Back when they'd sit at a coffee shop just like this; Bert trying to make Gerard feel as awkward and uncomfortable as possible, trying to see how many dirty things he could say that would make Gerard blush and duck his head, that's when he'd take his hand under the table and smile sweetly at him and start saying even dirtier things.
Way back to even before they got together, when he would even sneak onto MCR's van and squish himself between the seven or so other people in it, wrap himself tightly against Gerard - who'd complained about it being too hot but wouldn't push Bert away - just to be close to him.
Back then.
There are so many memories he could bring up, all that time together they had, all those promises and moments he can never get out of his mind. How much they needed each other and evened each other out.
It's when he thinks of it, that he has to remind himself it's really over. That guy he loved and felt so much for is gone, and he can't trick himself by thinking of the past. But whenever he does, whenever it slips back into his mind how good they were together, he wonders how it could've possibly ended, ever.
Gerard clears his throat, not to get his attention, even though Bert does looks up.
Bert sighs and let’s his head drop down on the table. He doesn’t regret this now, but he hates having to do it- hates having to open up old wounds. And of course it’s hard being around him, too. Even as he hates Gerard and thinks he’s an asshole- it’s hard not to talk to him so casually. Since they met, there’s always been that easy, comfortable thing between them. That click where they just fit.
Gerard’s looking at Bert, he knows how he feels. He can’t properly describe it without confusing himself, but he knows the feeling. Their history together - or not together - things that happened that made him miss Bert, made him regret ending it every time he lets himself think about it.
And at the same time, there’s Frank. And he loves him just as much, but not the same. It feels strange to him that he can love two people like that; two different people that seem to complete him in separate ways. But neither is an option for him anymore, and the women he’s been with - the woman he is with doesn’t even factor into that. Gerard wonders if he’ll ever have to face up to that with her. Tell her the truth.
“Gerard,” Bert says it softly.
He looks worn, Gerard can tell his own thoughts and feelings about this have been wearing him down. And Gerard actually feels guilty. Actually wants to take it all back. Because, yeah, he does owe Bert those years. “Bert, I—“
“Did you even— fuck,” Bert swears and sits up a bit in his seat. “I don’t know. Did- why did—” He stops, lets out a sigh. He feels pathetic having to say it, but he manages the courage to ask, “Why did you leave me? Really, I mean. Look, no lame ass excuses, okay? I just wanna know,” Bert pauses, picks at dead skin on his fingers before continuing, “Did you really hate me?”
“No,” Gerard denies quickly, “no, no of course I didn’t- I couldn’t hate you.” He looks at Bert wide eyed, serious. He doesn’t want Bert to doubt him on this. Bert bites his lip and Gerard looks away. “I never hated you. I… I love-d you. A lot.” He winces at the slip, hoping Bert didn’t notice.
“Not enough, though.”
Gerard frowns to himself a bit, he wants to argue that point but considering everything, he doesn’t really have much he can say in his defense. So he just repeats Bert’s question at him, “Do you really hate me?”
“Yeah,” Bert answers easily.
“Oh.” Gerard’s stomach lurches, he’s been inwardly denying that answer for a long time.
“But not, you know,” Bert corrects himself on a reflex as he sees Gerard’s reaction. “That’s how I deal. If I focus on how much of a fucking asshole you are, it can kind of replace that annoying as fuck ‘love’ thing I got for you.”
Gerard smiles down at his hands, blushing. “That’s sweet,” he tries to say impassively.
“Yeah,” Bert smiles too, inwardly he’s kicking and screaming at himself for revealing too much, but he tries to ignore it. “You’ve gotten thin.”
“You’ve gotten fat,” Gerard responds automatically.
Bert laughs, almost that shrill, girly giggle he used to do, only it sounds a little hoarser now.
“All that beer caught up with my gut,” Bert says and pats his stomach. “Doesn’t matter, Ali’s the one stuck with it.” Gerard cracks a small, sad smile. Bert tries to ignore that, too. “I don’t like this skinny trip you’ve got going," he states. "Eat for fuck’s sake, you and Mikey are starting to look way too much alike.”
“We’re brothers,” Gerard deadpans.
“Yeah, but you never looked it. This is really creepy.”
They laugh a little. This feels like it used to. At least it almost does. And it’s nice, and Gerard remembers why he loved Bert so much. He made everything easy, even when he was really angry with you it was still so easy. He’d let you fix your mistake, Gerard can’t help but wonder if maybe Bert only has that kind of patience for him.
“Gerard,” Bert says seriously, “don’t- try not- fuck…” He hates it when he can’t get the words out, and this whole time it’s been harder. “Just… don’t change too much, okay?” There’s something in his voice then, it sounds like he knows there’s no chance but he’s asking anyway.
Gerard thinks for a moment then nods a little. If he’s going to face up to this shit, he may as well get it over with, try for it to be quick and painless. As painless as it can be.
He looks down. “You know,” he starts, “I think Frank might leave the band. Probably go full time with Leathermouth. He- I lied, he isn’t happy.”
“Yeah, I know. He called me.”
Gerard's head snaps up. “What?”
“He wanted advice. Since me and you were—“
“Why the fuck didn’t he just come talk to me?”
“Gerard, come on.”
“No, he should’ve. He knows he can.”
“No he can’t, Gee- fuck. You’re married, you got married, you didn’t even let the guy fucking know- you just sprung it on him; on everyone.”
“Fuck, fuck, what’d he say?”
“Just that he doesn’t know about the band anymore. About you anymore.”
Gerard rubs at his temples, his eyes shut tight as he mutters, “No, no, no, no.”
Bert hates that he’s almost forgotten how angry he’s been with Gerard. He hates that he’s sympathizing with this guy, this fake… But it’s- this fake is him. Again, it’s Gerard, and when it comes to him Bert can’t help it.
“Hey,” Bert says to get Gerard’s attention.
“He’s gonna leave. He will, he can. Fuck.”
“He can, he might, but you know he probably won’t,” Bert assures him, sounding surer than he actually feels. “Frankie’s always been about the music, you know when it comes down to shit that that’s what’ll make him stay."
“I haven’t been lately,” Gerard admits, “about the music, that’s what everyone keeps saying. I've been an asshole.”
“Yeah, I noticed.”
“My being an asshole?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, thanks,” Gerard says, rolling his eyes.
“And the fact that the band seems like… like you’re not into it anymore, and- fuck- I don’t know, man. It’s just weird. You're different.” Bert scratches his chin, stares down at the table and waits for Gerard to denounce what he just said.
In his head, he himself is. Thinking back on his words and what he thinks he sees the band becoming; how they’re distancing themselves away from this, he’s thinking how he might be reading it from the wrong perspective. Getting the wrong idea.
But the first sentence out of Gerard’s mouth stops his doubt. “Maybe I’ve. No. I have. I've been the one ruining it,” Gerard says it looking down at his hands again. His fingers are twitchy, unoccupied. He has nothing to distract him and all he can do is look away.
It’s about a minute later when Bert decides to say something back, but Gerard beats him to it. “But I’m just, ah, fuck, I’m just not there anymore, you know what I mean?” Bert nods even though he doesn’t, well, he sort of gets it, but he’s probably thinking of something else to what Gerard means.
“Like,” Gerard continues, “I started this for a reason; escape, change things, do something that actually fucking matters for once. But, lately, it just- it feels like I’m tied down by it. It’s not in my control anymore, I’m stuck being this, this,” Gerard waves his hands around dramatically as he stumbles on his words, “this thing that everyone either wants or hates.
"And it’s just… cheapened, I think, the music, the fans, everything. It doesn’t feel like it did before when it was all easy. I mean, not easy but the point was simple. It was just ‘I do this, I succeed, make changes, I’ll be happy’ and that was it. But. Its mechanic now, it’s predictable, it’s even annoying. Having so many people want so much from you. And, God, I already know.” Gerard stops and laughs a bit at himself. “This shit shouldn’t have anything to do with me hiding what I got with Frank, right? Yeah, or what I had.”
Bert says nothing. He just looks at Gerard. But it’s okay, Gerard’s never been one to be short of words.
“It kind of does though. And, even you said, it’s what he’s in it for. The way he is with everything, he’s in it for the passion. And I’m losing this.” Gerard holds out his hands and then drops them back down to the table. Bert can hear him kicking at the floor. He knows Gerard’s fidgety when he’s nervous, or stressed or thinking too much. Anyway. Gerard’s fidgety even when he’s calm, but it’s worse when he's anxious.
“And he really tried to deal with it… when he found out,” Gerard whispers. It’s mostly to himself, and if Bert hadn’t seen his lips move while he said it he could’ve chalked it down to his imagination.
But he heard it. And he wants to ask. Wants to talk about how Frank acted fine after the fact. After Gerard acted on that stupid impulse. How Frank was trying to just be happy finally having any piece of Gerard at all.
But he doesn’t get to.
“What exactly did you wanna tell me.”
Bert’s eyes shoot up from where they were looking at Gerard’s hands. And actually, he didn’t even know he was looking at his hands until just now.
Gerard’s staring at him pretty intently, and he’d asked him a question. Only, it didn’t sound like a question so Bert sees no reason why he should speak up yet at all.
Gerard goes on with what he was saying anyway. “When you caught me on the street I thought you were gonna hash it out with me right there, you know. Scream at me, swear your ass off at me or punch me or something. I don’t know.” Bert had actually considered it…
“But, you didn’t do any of that shit, so. I’m guessing you actually had something you wanted to say to me.”
Bert thinks he did, but he can’t seem to remember exactly what it was. His brain keeps telling him it was “fuck you” but he doesn’t think that’s it. He just wanted to... to... he can’t even remember, all he was thinking about was making this stop. But, now, he doesn’t know the right way how.
Gerard isn’t looking at him at all. Which Bert’s thankful for, because that would just make it harder for him to remember. Bert says nothing.
It takes a while. But Gerard eventually gets the hint and just keeps talking. “It’s not completely my fault you know, and- Frank got married too.”
“Yeah, but,” Bert finally speaks, “I think. You know he loves her, and he’s been with her for a long time.”
“But, he’s—”
“He isn’t hiding it from her. That’s the difference.”
They stare each other down for about 2 seconds. Because they’re both worn and sick of it and just- it’s not going to end up being a good day for either of them.
Bert’s quiet as Gerard orders them coffee. Gerard gets him the kind he likes, but he doesn’t drink it.
It isn’t long before Gerard speaks up. “Drink your coffee,” he orders.
Bert does. He kind of considers how Gerard said that as an order and not an offer and how maybe there’s poison in it. Should he put it past Gerard to kill the most likely person to tell about his sexuality? Well, he’ll find out now either way.
Gerard runs a hand down his face, sniffs, and sips more of his coffee before sighing, “Too much sugar.”
Bert hums in agreement. And it’s just at this moment that he realizes this is awkward, that the way they’re acting right now is odd. Like a break from their argument or something.
He almost says it to Gerard, but when he looks up the other man is staring down into his coffee, or, not so much staring as looking in its direction. He’s somewhere else. Seeing his thoughts swimming in the dark liquid.
“So,” Gerard says and looks up from his cup, a sad smile on his face. “I’m an asshole.”
“Gerard. You are.” That's all Bert manages at this point. He doesn’t know whether they’ve talked about everything too much or if they’ve even started getting into it. He can’t tell anymore. He figures he’ll just stick to questions. “Are you really not gonna tell your wife you’re gay?”
“Bert.”
“Tell her.”
“Stop it.”
“If you face up to it, I’ll stop.”
“What do you want me to say here? I’m already fucking opening up about all this shit with you and Frank, what more do you want?”
“You’ve gotta tell her.”
“Why the fuck do you care if I tell her or not?”
“Because if you don’t tell her, she can’t leave your sorry ass and you’re just gonna keep making Frank miserable by lying about every fucking thing. And, yeah, Gerard, he will leave the band because no one has to put up with that bullshit.”
It's funny, because at that, Gerard just feels like laughing. This is hurting so much. This whole truth shit, owning up to everything. This hurts. And that just seems so fucking laughable right now. He realizes how fucked this must look to the innocent witnesses in the café, too. Lucky for him none of them seem to be fans. And if there were some… well, shit.
“No,” Gerard says, rubbing at his forehead with the heel of his palm. “No, it’s not the same. If he leaves, the band is done. I’m done. Everyone knows that.”
“I think you’re forgetting that the actual problem is everyone doesn’t.”
Gerard drops his hand, staring at Bert for a moment. All this time, Gerard’s just been sitting there, hearing Bert being his conscience. But now it hits him, why?
“Why?”
“What?” Bert asks, confused.
“Why are you doing this? Sitting here, telling me to fix things- giving me advice, why?”
“Because.” Bert looks at him, all honesty, no holding back. “Look, fuck- I can… I can hate you, Gerard. I can really fucking hate you. But that’s easy. Avoiding you and hating you is easy. But,” he pauses, moving around in his seat. Gerard's actually impressed, he hasn't ever seen Bert be so serious for such a long amount of time unless it involved music. He's really trying.
"This," Bert starts up again, "...is hard. It's not. The easy way out."
It takes a moment for Bert to sort out what he wants to say and when he does he looks up at Gerard.
"You gotta decide on what you want to do. And who you're gonna be. Because I can't be... just, fuck, I don't know, waiting for you like some idiot, and Frank can't either. You gotta make up your mind. There are too many people in this shit for you to..." he trails off.
Gerard gets the point anyway. He nods, about to say something. But a girl comes up to them and charges them for the coffee. Gerard pays. Bert just puts his glasses back on and after the girl leaves, Gerard puts his on as well.
He sighs heavily and rubs at his eyes under the frames, saying, “I need a fucking cigarette.”
Bert moves to stand. “Let’s go outside.”
They walk briskly to the door. They know full well that all eyes are on them because of all the yelling and things said. Gerard’s walking ahead, looking down at the ground with his hands buried deep in his pockets. He feels a bit better with his sunglasses on, a bit more hidden, but he knows that if there is a fan in the café then there’s no way they wouldn’t recognize him— them.
Once out, they’re both in shock, because it’s really, really dark.
“The fuck? It was light out when we…” Bert shakes his head in confusion. “What time is it?”
Gerard checks his wrist, then the other. “No watch.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
Then Gerard pats at his jean pockets, checks inside his coat and pulls out a packet of cigarettes. Just as he opens it, Bert snatches one. Gerard doesn’t even blink, he’s used to it, he’s used to that behavior, he’s used to Bert. But Bert's surprised he still is, and pauses a little while pulling back his hand.
“Lighter?” Gerard asks out the corner of his mouth, cigarette held between his teeth, he’s patting down his sides but can’t seem to find anything.
Bert looks down at himself and pulls one out of his pocket, along with some lint, a string, something that looks like it used to be a balloon – or a condom? – more lint… He shakes the rest off his hand and lights up quickly, easily.
’He’s always been real smooth,’ Gerard thinks. Bert hands the lighter to Gerard, careful not to touch.
Gerard has to fidget around, cup the side of his face where a cool breeze is coming so that he can light his cigarette. ’I’ve never been smooth.’
They stand there, all silent, in the dark. They’re staying as far away from the streetlight as they can, standing on the darkest part of the sidewalk, but still not dark enough.
Gerard’s being really quiet and Bert’s getting antsy. He knows Gerard’s thinking... about everything and it’s stressing him out. He’s doubting things, he’s confused. He wants to know if everything they finally talked about will make a difference past today.
Bert hates that he let himself fall into that friendliness with Gerard, that empathy he has towards him. He didn’t come here today to be Gerard’s psychiatrist and take care of him, fuck he didn’t come here for Gerard period.
Bert hates the selfish, coward, bastard, fucking asshole, but, a part of him still really wants to let himself love Gerard too. That part he hates that tells him ‘Gerard’s human and makes mistakes.’
“He’s made too many,” Bert responds to himself, quietly.
“What?” Gerard asks, having heard him.
“Nothing.”
Gerard stares at him strangely. And that’s why Bert hates silence, because he ends up fucking talking to himself.
After a while he stomps out his cigarette, watching as Gerard finishes his and then immediately fishes for another one. Bert raises an eyebrow at him, he knows Gerard’s nervous and feels awkward if his hands aren’t doing something. He knows because Gerard used to use him as a distraction…
Bert feels his face go hot and scratches the back of his neck, now wishing he had something to distract him.
He looks around, watching as cars pass by, watching the people walking around, walking past them, and thinks, ’We are so fucked if a fan sees us - saw us, shit.’
He looks over at Gerard, the older man is just smoking looking down at the ground, still thinking.
’If someone did see us,’ Bert thinks, ’and tells other people and then, fuck, every interview’s gonna be about the fucking ‘feud’ again. There’s no way it wouldn’t end up on the net. And, fuck, it’s gonna be bad if someone sees us standing out here together, worse, so much fucking worse if a fan saw us in the café, if they heard us.’
“No one saw us, maybe,” Gerard says.
Bert’s pleased and dismayed at the same time to see that Gerard’s reading-Bert’s-fucking-mind skills are still well tuned. Gerard outstretches his arm in front of Bert and takes a step back. “Back up,” he says. Bert does, he stops when he feels the brick wall hit his ass and he doesn’t flinch at that, but he does when Gerard’s arm almost touches his chest. Almost.
He backed them up into a darker area, the looming shadow of the building behind them hides them well enough.
Gerard throws his cigarette to the ground and barely scuffs at it with his foot. Bert stomps it out a bit more thoroughly though. It’s like a pet peeve of his, he can’t let a cigarette just burn out on its own like that, it bugs him.
Bert remembers how Gerard used to smirk at him whenever he complained about it and how he used to let the cigarette burn out on it’s own just to annoy him- see how long it took Bert to snap. When he looks up at Gerard he notices that the corner of his mouth twitches, and wonders if maybe he still just did it to annoy him.
They stand silent again, and it’s mentally killing Bert. He’s tired, he’s stressed, he’s oh so fucking confused and all he wants is a way to end this. A way for this to be over, finished, never to be done again. But he doesn’t know how, so he just clears his throat and taps his foot on the ground and waits. What he’s waiting for? He doesn’t know. He’s waiting for Gerard, he supposes. Like always.
Gerard, who’s taking his sweet time thinking things over. His arms are folded over his chest and his sunglasses are slipping down his nose. He's licking at his lips to keep them moist, just standing there looking down, looking occupied when he isn’t even doing anything. Bert is getting annoyed.
Just as he’s about to say something Gerard holds up his hand. Bert stares at him, waiting. Exerting more patience than he's ever had to. Gerard takes off his glasses and peers down at the ground, reviewing what he’s about to say. And finally, when he does speak, Bert can’t hear it.
“What?”
Gerard looks up at him, not looking him in the eye, though.
He takes a drag off his cigarette, and then answers as he exhales, his voice breathy and raw, “I said I can’t…”
“What do you mean ‘you can’t’? Can’t fucking what?”
“I just... I can’t, okay? Can’t,” Gerard makes a gesture between them as he says, “this, you- I can’t- I can’t deal with any of this. I can’t deal with the band, with Frank. No, I just… can’t. I gotta move past this, I gotta stop dwelling in this shit, I need to move on…”
Bert stares at him. He’s angry, angrier than he’s ever been before. And this is Gerard, he’s been pretty fucking angry with this guy before but none of it compares to how he feels now. This isn’t just anger, this is disgust.
But he doesn’t say anything, even though his mind is arguing with Gerard, screaming, ‘Dwelling!? What the fuck do you mean ‘dwelling’? You’re the one that put us all in this shit, you’re the one that fucked up, you’re the fucking asshole here- and you wanna move on? Fuck you, make mistakes and leave everyone a fucking mess, you fucking self-righteous, arrogant, motherfuck—’
“Bert?” Gerard’s staring at him. Bert nods his head and motions with his hand for Gerard to go on. He wants to hear all of it first.
Gerard sighs and shakes his head. “I gotta get home, she’s... she's probably wondering why I haven’t gotten back yet.”
“No, we’re not done yet.”
“Bert, let it go, man. We gotta let it go,” Gerard reasons with Bert in a way that makes him feel like a little kid. Condescending prick.
“We’re not done,” Bert growls. He’s pissed off.
“Bert, I—“
“You what, Gee? Wanna move on, forget the past, live in the now? Ha, that’s so nice and easy. For you.” Bert inches a little closer to Gerard. “While you play Mr. straight-married-guy, where does that leave everyone else? Where does it leave the band, me, Frank? Where does he fit in- oh wait. He doesn’t. You’ve given up, right? Because it’s just too fucking hard for you. Well, fuck, this is the kind of person you wanna be? Fucking-” He doesn’t finish. He sounds hurt, desperate. Things in his voice that Gerard doesn’t catch.
Gerard is glaring at him, but he’s keeping his mouth shut. He looks about ready to cry, his eyes are glassy and his bottom lip is quivering just a little. But he’s refusing it, he bites his lip hard and is careful when he blinks so to not let a tear accidentally fall.
“You’re not denying it,” Bert says, he doesn’t say it to provoke Gerard, he’s just confused.
Gerard notices how disappointed Bert sounds. He wants to deny it, to tell Bert that everything he’s said isn’t true, that he’s not that guy. But he is. And it hurts.
“Gerard,” Bert croaks, “deny it.” Gerard looks down, he’s no longer glaring. He feels sick. All of a sudden Bert grabs hard onto his shoulders, shaking him. “Deny it!” Bert keeps repeating it. Finally a tear falls down Gerard’s cheek. He can’t look up, just letting himself be shaken.
Since he hasn’t looked up, he can’t see that Bert’s already got tears streaming from frustration. Bert shakes him one last, hard time and sobs, “Deny it, you stupid fuck!” Gerard looks up and they - for the first time in years - they really, really meet each others eyes. No distractions, no guards up. They're seeing everything.
Bert steps closer to Gerard, grabs him by the front of his shirt and pulls him into a clumsy kiss. Gerard’s caught off guard and instantly holds onto Bert's shoulders to either keep his balance, or pull the younger man closer, he really doesn’t know.
It’s chaste, and not exactly comfortable with the pain from smacking so hard together. But it’s still familiar.
Bert breaks apart from Gerard and stumbles back. His eyes are watery and his face reads nothing but distress. Gerard wants to say something but he can’t think of anything that'd be right.
Though he hesitates, looking at Gerard. Bert knows what he wants to do.
He punches him.
Gerard’s legs give out and he slides down the wall quickly, a hand already held to his face as he looks up at Bert. Surprisingly, he’s not surprised at all.
There’s still nothing he can say to it. He deserved it. He knows that much. He feels like he deserved 10 times more than that anyway. He’s ready for anything Bert’s going to hurt him with, if it’ll at least make up some for what he’s done. For the kind of person he’s choosing to be.
“You know,” Bert starts, his voice is shaky. Gerard looks directly at him. “I always thought that out of the two of us- that you were the better guy.” He laughs at himself a bit and rubs a hand down his face, sniffing and still chuckling. “Even when I hated you, I always thought that if one of us was gonna fuck up their life, it’d be me...” Bert chokes on a cough, or a sob. Gerard can’t be sure.
Bert continues, “But you’re so fucked, and you don’t even know how to fix everything when it’s so obvious. You’re so fucking scared and Frank’s so fucking over it.” Bert looks at him thoughtfully before kneeling down and digging a hand into his coat pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up, trying to hold it with more confidence than his fumbling fingers show. “I’m so fucking over it. You're an asshole,” he says with the cigarette between his teeth and then takes a deep drag off it.
He breathes out a thick puff of smoke, and then carefully places the cigarette between Gerard’s lips. Gerard looks up at him wide eyed but then winces in pain, blood runs down his neck and collarbone.
“I could say that you deserve worse than just taking a hit,” Bert says as he rises, “but that wouldn’t be true, you’ve done yourself in worse than anything I could do now.” He looks down at the ground, then makes a move as if to turn but doesn't.
Gerard just keeps looking up at him, cigarette still slowly burning between his lips. He hasn’t inhaled through his mouth at all yet, though.
Bert‘s hands stop shaking and he straightens his back, staring down narrowly at Gerard. “You’re a fucking asshole,” he reiterates, “you messed up. You’re gonna lose everything.” He can’t help that there's more sympathy in his voice than bitterness.
Bert starts to slowly walk backwards, hands in his pockets. Gerard just sits there, cigarette ash falling onto his chest.
Bert stops walking, cocks his head to the side and shuts his eyes as tears fall down his cheeks. “Try to gain some weight,” he jokes, to make this at least a little easier, if it even can be.
Gerard takes the cigarette out from his mouth. He calls out weakly, “Bert.”
Bert smiles at him and winks, turning around to walk away down the street. “Hey, Gerard,” he shouts back without turning around or faltering a step. “I don’t have to worry about that annoying ‘love’ thing anymore.”
also here on AO3
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Date: 2008-07-26 05:12 pm (UTC)This was just so... amazing. I love how for once, Bert and Gerard are portrayed as being hurt aswell instead of being fully angered.
You can feel the real emotion, the anger, Gerard's guilt and maybe Bert's jealousness.
It was so intense, it just fit.
I love this :]
Definately will re-read again some time soon.
AND TE 7,000+ WORDS?! AMAZING! BTW :]
Loveee xxx
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Date: 2008-07-26 05:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-27 09:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-26 06:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-27 10:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-26 08:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-27 10:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-27 04:32 am (UTC)Definitely going in the memories.
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Date: 2008-07-27 10:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-27 12:00 pm (UTC)was fucking
beautiful.
and the most realistic Gerbert i've ever read.
i loved it to no end.
Especially Bert, he was just amazing.
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Date: 2008-07-27 01:01 pm (UTC)♥
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Date: 2008-07-27 07:12 pm (UTC)I - like - what? I just read that and was like "Woah - this is AWESOME" and then went back to check my friend's page and then I saw your name and was like: "WAIT A SECOND!" and I have absolutely no time to comment know because my Dad needs my computer right now but - this was amazing, I love it!!!! Especially the ending. I mean - how cheesy would it have been if in the end, they'd have made up and Gerard would have come out and then they'd be together?? It would have ruined everything but this was like - WOW. Amazingly written, too!
Fantastic job, man!!!
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Date: 2008-07-28 11:37 am (UTC)you either need to go on msn more or I need to stay up later
p.s thank you for going all "incoherent-comment" on me, it made me smile a lot :)
♥
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Date: 2008-07-28 12:08 pm (UTC)I have told you this probably a million times but this thing is incredible. Really. It all flows so well and it's just so realistic. I get really caught up in it, in them, your Gerard is so believable and just so human.
You are amazing.
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Date: 2008-07-29 11:06 am (UTC)Thank you so much sweets, I don't mind that you IGNORED IT. You made it pretty, I love you <3
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Date: 2008-07-28 04:53 pm (UTC)omg, i miss this pairing oh so much *sobs*
thank you so much for writing this, it's beautifully written.
So real! <3 xo very very nice
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Date: 2008-07-29 11:07 am (UTC)I'm happy you liked it ^^ thanks!
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Date: 2008-07-28 07:55 pm (UTC)Anyways... i should go before my ramblings get too out of hand xD
Congrats, gerat fic ^^
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Date: 2008-07-29 11:11 am (UTC)And I am reeeally happy you liked those two, honestly they've been living in my head arguing for a while... what? I don't make sense right now, but my point is I'm happy you liked it and thanks <3
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Date: 2008-07-28 09:15 pm (UTC)-picks jaw up off the floor-
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Date: 2008-07-29 11:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-29 04:41 am (UTC)Definitely going in the memories. Your characterisations, and the realism of it all astounded me.
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Date: 2008-07-29 11:17 am (UTC)Thank you very much ^^
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Date: 2008-07-29 05:24 am (UTC)Wow.
Um.
Amazing. Absolutely. Amazing. Just. Wow.
*wipes at eyes*
Damn. Holy fuck. Stuff like that.
It's so real. I feel so bad for Gerard, worse for Bert. I love that, for once, Bert isn't the asshole.
I just.
Wow.
Not sure what to say? In love with it. *mems*
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Date: 2008-07-29 11:20 am (UTC)So, just. I very much thank you ♥
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Date: 2008-07-29 03:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-29 02:14 pm (UTC)that was the most detailed, characterized and realistic g/b i've ever read.
i'm so glad i read this. it was beautiful and painful and just so raw, shit, the emotions had my heart clenched and stomach twist.
mems for sure.
♥
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Date: 2008-07-29 04:00 pm (UTC)That's really what I wanted for this so thank you <3
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Date: 2008-08-03 10:47 pm (UTC)I could picture all of this happening, hear it all happening. Honestly. It seemed so fucking real, and I thought I was about to cry because of it, and then I got sorta mad, because, like a bajillion other kids, I really fucking look up to Gerard... like, so so much, and Bert calling him an asshole made me wanna through his fucking head through a wall or something XD... especially since there's a lot of kids who think that Gerard really has changed too much and think he's an asshole, and that pisses me off more then anyone will ever know. [he's fucking human, humans make mistakes...people change. they grow up. he's 31, he can't just act like a kid all the time for the rest of his life.] But then, with the given situation and everything, I totally agreed with what Bert was saying... and then Frank thinking about quitting the band... I sorta felt like throwing up, cos I think that if any of the guys left the band, I would have a fucking meltdown. Thinking about shit like that just scares me.
And oooh, the ending... I felt really bad for Gee and sorta wanted to hug him, but then I felt violent again and sorta wanted to hit him too. And... just... yeah.
There aren't many fics that make me change emotions like that so fast. Actually... I can't really think of any. So...
You did an awesome fucking job. And I can safely say that I have never made a comment on a story that was this long before, and I've never ranted in an LJ comment before either. Deargod! I loved this... if i didn't make it obvious already. :]
*adds to mems... cos it'd be sorta ridiculous if i didn't after all this*
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Date: 2008-08-04 10:56 am (UTC)I wanted that, like with the characters, I wanted to see it from their side of the story. And in the end they just ended up like that, both faulted in their own way. I wanted people to side with Bert but also see where Gerard was coming from. In real life there is no pure Bad and Good, everyone’s at least a little to blame.
I wanted it to impact people, and maybe I was a bit mean about that. About how much I wanted it to get to people like it's been getting to me for a while.
Anyway, you never know, maybe I actually saw it all happen and was at that cafe :O or you know, most likely not, considering that if I did see that happen I would appreciate the proof that slash existed for only a second before I started crying like a baby =/ and then they'd see me and run away. lol. Plus I live across the world..
But thank you for the comment, I didn't know it struck up so many things with you and I'm starting to develop an ego for this thing which can't be good.
But thank you so much for liking it and reading the long fucking thing. ♥
P.S I am sorry if my reply makes no sense...
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Date: 2008-08-04 09:18 am (UTC)pretty much what everyone else said. i'm just like... x.x
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Date: 2008-08-04 10:58 am (UTC)Thank you very much ♥