Title: Sweet Home New Jersey?
Author: boi4eliza
Rating: PG I guess. There’s kissing and cussing but that’s about it.
Pairing: Gerard Way/Jon Walker, Gerard Way/Frank Iero, last-minute implied Spencer Smith/Mikey Way
Description: For romanticbandom fic challenge. VERY LOOSELY based on the story of Sweet Home Alabama. Gerard and Jon get engaged, but before Gerard can marry Jon, he needs to get a divorce from his high school sweetheart, Frank. But going home changes things for everyone.
Author’s Note: This is the first fic I’ve written in well over 2 years and before that, I’d only written 3 or 4 very brief fics. Also, I haven’t seen Sweet Home Alabama in almost that long either, so events may be out of order.

Thanks go to thewhiteviolin for her wonderful beta work.

~~~~~

Gerard looked up from his sketchbook at the boy strumming his guitar on the edge of his bed. He could probably draw Frank from memory by now, they'd been friends forever, but Gerard looked anyway, as if something about him would change suddenly if he wasn't paying attention. Nothing ever did.

"Hey, Frank," Gerard said, "what are we gonna do when school's over?"

Frank's eyes lit up as he looked up from neck of the guitar and said matter-of-factly, "I'm gonna be in a band, dude. We'll tour, make records, people are gonna fucking love us." He looked thoughtful for a moment before adding, "You, though? You'll probably be making our cover art or somethin'."

"You'd still want me around? Even when you're 'Frank Iero - Master Guitarist and All-Round Badass'?"

"Well, yeah," Frank said, like there was no other possible answer. It was the same answer he gave every time Gerard asked him this question. "We're always gonna be together. I don't remember a time when we weren't. You're kind of stuck with me, get used to it, fucker."

Gee woke to the soft buzzing of his cell phone. Rubbing a hand over his face, he pulled the phone from the pocket of his jeans and flipped it open. The name 'Jon Walker' flashed up on the screen, followed by the message 'I'm sending a car. Be ready in 10.'

"Oh, shit," Gerard said, looking at the clock on his office wall. "Spencer! Why did you let me sleep so long? Jon's sending a car in ten minutes!"

Spencer Smith, Gerard's assistant and best friend, had been working at Decaydance almost as long as Gerard had. When his first assistant, Victoria, learned she was pregnant to one of the guys signed to the label, she quit, leaving them shorthanded. Spencer stepped in as a favour to Gerard, and Gerard repaid him by sharing the workload wherever possible. Being a music executive wasn't exactly the hardest job in the world, but it had its moments, and it only got easier when you had good help.

"So he still hasn't figured out that you have your own car, and are very capable of driving it?" Spencer smirked as he walked into Gerard's office. He liked Jon, he really did. But he was an easy mark.

"He's sweet, Spence. And he means well."

Grabbing his coat, he hugged Spencer quickly and left.

He smoked a cigarette while he waited for Jon's driver to pull in, each breath of smoke he exhaled curling out against the cool night air. Once in the car, he asked if the guy could tell him where they were going. The driver just shook his head and told him that he was under specific orders. This was the one thing he didn't like about Jon. Gerard hated surprises, and Jon had a tendency to keep them coming.

The car jerked to a stop outside an old beat-down club, and the driver opened Gerard's door and waited as he got out. This was one of the smallest clubs Jon owned, but even with his love of the dingy little places, Gerard had never been. A gangly looking guy with unruly hair stepped forward. He appeared to be the only security for the club, even though he didn't really look like any bouncer Gerard had ever seen. Squinting to read the guy's nametag with only the glow of blue neon for lighting, he queried, "Ray, is it?"

"Yes, sir."

He pressed on, "Right. So, Ray, what's happening in here tonight?"

Ray's expression changed slightly, from indifference to confusion, as he answered, "Cobra Starship, sir. We have a pass for you, and Mr Walker is waiting for you inside."

***

Gerard had been screaming along for the last solid hour, and as the final chords of 'The City Is At War' rung out through the club, Gabe made an announcement. "I have some good friends in the audience tonight, and I want all of you to meet 'em. So Jon, Gerard, get the fuck up here!"

On hearing Gabe-fucking-Saporta calling him out over the speakers, Gerard was jolted back to reality. Just in time to have Jon grab his hand to pull him through the crowd and up onto the stage. Surreal didn't cover this.

He watched incredulously as Gabe winked at Jon and slipped the mic into his hand, and Jon mouthed his thank you back. When Jon turned back to face him, Gerard felt light-headed, like he knew exactly where this was going. Then Jon spoke.

"Everyone knows I'm not much of a talker, so I'm just gonna get right down to it. I love you, Gee. And I knew if I didn't do this now, I was always gonna be scared of it, and I don't ever want to be."

Sinking to one knee, he produced a small box from his coat pocket. He opened it to reveal a thin platinum band with the letters 'G' and 'J' entwined together on it's face, and continued, "I want to spend every one of the rest of my days with you. What do you say?"

A soft hush fell over the crowd, more than a hundred eager kids waiting to hear what he'd say. Every one of them knew exactly who Gerard was, every one of them owned records of bands he had signed, some that he himself had helped produce. The intensity of the moment made him feel like he wanted to pass out, like he'd been holding his breath, even though he knew was breathing, and rapidly at that.

The flash of uncertainty in Jon's eyes when Gerard hadn't said anything was all it took for Gerard to realise that this was exactly what he wanted.

"Yes," he said. Nobody moved.

Gerard smiled, and shouted, "You bet your ass I'll marry you!" The club erupted in cheers as Gerard pulled Jon up off his knees and kissed him hard and square on the mouth. When he broke the kiss, he pulled his boyfriend, now fiancé, in closer. "I love you," he whispered against Jon's hair, and he meant it.

***

"What do you mean you have to go back to Jersey?" Jon asked. The euphoria of the night before having worn off, Gerard had realised there were things he needed to take care of before the wedding could go ahead. Jon followed him around their apartment as he packed, eventually giving up and slumping down in an armchair near their bed. He was nothing if not persistent, but he knew defeat when he saw it.

"I have to tell my parents in person," Gerard told him. "They read all those music magazines to keep up with what I'm doing. The last thing I want is for them to find out from some skeezy music scene tabloid that their son is getting hitched."

Jon sighed. He knew Gerard wasn't backing down on this, and it would just be better to let him go and do whatever it is that he has to do.

"Ok," Jon agreed, "go, see your parents. I'll be right here waiting when you get back." He drew himself up from the armchair and kissed Gerard quickly on the forehead before leaving for work.

***

The flight in to New Jersey seemed short, so by the time his plane had landed, Gerard still wasn’t quite ready for what he was about to do. But, he knew it needed to be done, so he grabbed his overnight bag and picked up his hire car, and set out in search of a place he used to know well.

God, this place never fucking changes, does it? he thought to himself as he pulled up out front of his old house. He got out and leaned against the car to have a much-needed cigarette before getting on with the inevitable. A dog on the front porch started barking wildly, and just as Gerard was about to yell something, the screen door swung open. And there he was.

Gee crossed his arms defensively over his chest.

“Frank.”

Frank eyed him suspiciously, mimicking his defensive position.

“Well, if it isn’t ‘Gerard Way – Big Shot Music Exec and All-Round Asshole’,” he spat. Gerard rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, it’s good to see you too, honey,” he returned. “Look, I don’t want anything from you. I just need you to sign these papers and I’ll be gone.”

Frank’s expression changed. “What papers?” he asked.

Gerard held up a big yellow envelope, all too hopefully.

“Our divorce papers.”

The big dog had been barking all through their verbal catfight, and Frank finally yelled, “Bela, get inside!”

Now it was Gerard’s turn to look confused. “Bela? What happened to Pansy?”

“She died,” Frank said looking down. “You weren’t here.”

With that, he walked back inside and closed the door. Gerard stood at the car, looking helpless, still gripping the envelope that held both their misguided past and his undecided future. When he could finally will himself to move, he walked up onto the porch and placed the envelope down on the doormat. He knew Frank. He wouldn’t sign the papers until he was good and ready, and Gerard knew it was pointless to push him.

***

Gerard’s body filled with dread the moment his parents’ house came in sight. It had been years since he’d been out here to see them, and even when he’d sent them plane tickets so they could spend Christmas with him, they never came. They didn’t know anything outside of Jersey, and they didn’t care to.

Once he’d parked he sat for a few minutes, but realising his confidence wasn’t going to be forthcoming, he dragged himself out of the car and walked up the porch steps to the door. He knocked twice on the hardwood, and stood back so that his mother could see it was him when she made her usual glance out the window first. When she did, her eyes lit up.

The door swung open and his mother almost bowled him over as she gathered him in a hug. “Gerard! You’re home!” she squeaked, dragging him inside. Then she added, “Have you seen your brother? You should go see your brother. He misses you, you know.”

“Mom,” he groaned, pulling away, “I’ll go see him in the morning. I’m only staying for a few days.” His mother’s excitement faltered at this, but recovered quickly as she hugged him again.

“Well, you’re here right now. That’s something. You want something to eat? Drink?”

“I would die for some coffee,” he said dramatically.

As his mother shuffled around in the kitchen, he tried to think of the best way to break the news to her that her son was getting married. Again. She hadn’t been happy the first time around, when he’d married ’that Iero boy’ right out of high school, but he suspected that was probably mostly because he hadn’t told her he was gay until thirty seconds before announcing their engagement. He hadn’t given her ’appropriate time to deal’ or whatever it was she had said.

So, when she brought his coffee to him at the dinner table, he thanked her, and then it just sort of…came out.

“I’m getting married.”

His stomach knotted almost instantly, because he knew now he’d actually have to explain himself.

“Who is he…she?” his mother asked, the last word sounding rather hopeful.

He sighed heavily and ran a hand back through his dark hair. He’d let it grow long again the way Jon liked it. “We’ve been over this, mom,” he huffed. “I’m gay. How many times do you want me to say it before you realise that part of me isn’t going to change?”

Of course, she looked disappointed. But Gerard doesn’t remember the last time he did something that didn’t disappoint his parents. It was a behaviour he revelled in when he was a kid, but now it was just sad.

He continued, “His name is Jon. Jon Walker. He’s smart, and sweet, and he knows the business. He owns venues all over the country. And I want you to be nice to him when you meet him.”

Drinking down his coffee, he stood, said goodnight to his mother, and walked out of the dining room. His father barely looked up from the television as Gerard mumbled, “See you in the morning,” on the way to his old room. ’The Dungeon’, he used to call it. And at least the basement was good for one thing. He could pretend he wasn’t crying, and it was so dark that the mirror couldn’t tell him any different.

***

The next morning, things looked a little brighter. Gerard woke early, showered and changed, then called his brother from his cell on his way out.

“Get up, fucker, I’m taking you to breakfast,” he said.

Mikey yawned audibly, and sounded a little unsure when he said, “Gerard?”

“Damn right, little brother. I’m in town for a few days and I’m on my way over to pick you up, so get up and be ready when I get there.”

Groaning something that Gerard took to be his agreement, Mikey hung up.

***

“So, what happened with you and Alicia?” Gerard asked over his bacon and eggs.

Mikey smiled a little ironically and replied, “She went on tour with Mindless Self Indulgence. It seems she has a thing for bass players, and not only of the boy-variety.” Noting the faux-shock on Gerard’s face, he went on, “She and Lyn-Z were married last September.”

The tone of his voice made it clear to Gerard that Mikey wasn’t the least bit jealous.

“So, I guess you haven’t explained to mom and dad that their other son is gay too, huh Mikes?”

Shaking his head quickly, he said, “Oh no. I’m doing it exactly the way you did. When it’s my turn to say ‘Mom, Dad, I’m getting married’ then they’ll find out. And not before.”

Chuckling softly at his brother, Gerard asked, “Mikey, how are you going to get married, how are you even going to find a boyfriend, if you won’t let anybody know you like the man-parts?”

Mikey glared at his brother, but couldn’t stop himself from smiling a little. He was right after all.

***

Later that day, Gerard stopped in at the bar owned by Frank’s mom, Linda. She’d always liked Gerard, even after he decided to leave Frank and pursue his career. She was upset, because Frank was, but she wished Gerard the best and sent him on his way like she was his own mother. After he left, there were days when he wasn’t sure whether he missed Frank or Linda more.

“Is that little Gerard Way, back from the big, bad city?”

He recognised her voice right away and smiled. Turning around, he found Linda walking out from behind the bar. She hugged him fiercely, and then stood back.

“Let me take a look at you,” she said. “A little skinnier than when I saw you last, but you don’t change much, do you boy?”

“No, ma’am,” he grinned back.

“You give this boy whatever he wants,” she turned and told the bartender. Gerard couldn’t see his face, but he couldn’t help but think that trucker cap looked familiar. When he tipped his cap in agreement, she turned back.

“You been to see Frankie?” she asked. Gerard’s smile faltered and he made a noise in the back of his throat that belonged somewhere between annoyance and self-pity, but he nodded just the same.

Linda had expected that answer and seemed pleased enough.

“I’ve got to get going,” she told him, “but stick around. Have a drink.”

She kissed his cheek and walked away, and he went to the bar.

***

Almost three hours later, a drunken Gerard was cursing loudly after not being able to make it all the way up his parents’ porch stairs for the third time. Mikey, who had been over for his usual Sunday dinner with the family, came outside to see what all the fuss was about.

“Jesus fucking Christ, man,” he muttered, “I had enough of picking your drunk ass up during high school.”

Mikey might have been the younger and the smaller of the two, but he was stronger than he looked, and he slung his brother’s arm around his own shoulder and pulled him carefully up the steps. Having already had the sense to make Gerard a strong cup of coffee, Donna gestured for her youngest son to sit her eldest at the dinner table.

“Hey ma,” Gerard giggled, “Ma! There was this girl – you’re gonna love this – and she, she…at the bar. She works there, and -”

Gerard’s face had begun turning red from laughing so hard, but his mom and brother sat patiently and waited for him to finish his skewed version of the story he was trying to tell.

Choking back the laughter, he continued, “Mikey. She’s so in love with him. She told me…”

Mikey paled visibly at the mention of his name. He’d seen Gerard drunk enough times to know that that’s when he’s most likely to shoot his mouth off and let usually-heavily-guarded secrets slip.

He went on, “She’d be perfect, just perfect for the little guy -”

Mikey tried as quickly as he could to gather Gerard up from the table, but it was too late.

“- if he wasn’t as much of a fag as his big brother.”

His hands hung limp at his sides, and if Mikey could have just remembered, just for a second, how to get them to work, he’d have punched his brother. Instead, he left without another word, slamming the front door shut behind him.

Gerard pushed the coffee mug away from him and stumbled off down the stairs to the basement, avoiding the look of utter disdain and shame on his mother’s face.

***

The pounding in Gerard’s head the next morning wasn’t unfamiliar. He’d always been a fairly heavy drinker, until he’d moved away from New Jersey and found Jon, but it had been so long since he’d had a hangover that it felt like his temples were being assaulted with a jackhammer.

When he finally managed to lift his head more than an inch off the pillow, he slowly opened his eyes to find the divorce papers on the bed next to him. Sitting up, he flicked through them. Every page had been signed. Flicking back, he noticed the post it that was attached to the front. Reading it, he remembered back to what he’d done last night.

Apologize to your brother, asshole.

“Fuck,” Gerard cursed. “Mikey.”

***

Gerard moved quicker than he ever had before to get showered and reasonably presentable, before squealing out of his parents driveway and over to Mikey’s place. Even as the pounding in his head was protesting, he banged as hard as he could on the door, until he heard sleepy swearing and his little brother at the locks.

“Mikey, please don’t close the –“, Gerard started, but again, it was too late.

“- door.”

But Gerard knew his brother. If he hadn’t wanted Gerard to come in and explain himself, he would have locked the door again before walking away. But Mikey needed Gerard to feel some sort of effect from his anger, and slamming the door in his face was just passive-aggressive enough to get the point across. So, Gerard let himself in, only to find Mikey staring blankly at the television and sipping at his morning coffee. It wasn’t even turned on.

Looking for a way to ease into the conversation, Gee said, “So, you talked to Frank?”

Mikey just nodded without looking at his brother.

Sighing, Gerard sat down on the couch. He turned to face his brother, wanting to put a hand on his shoulder and apologise and make everything better.

“I’m so sorry, Mikey. I didn’t mean to out you to mom and dad. I really didn’t. And if I could take it back, you know I would. Everything’s just so fucked up right now, I guess…I guess I just needed the attention not to be on me for a second, you know?”

The noise Mikey made wasn’t one of anger like Gerard had expected, but one of resignation. He looked at Gerard earnestly, and breathed out, “It’s okay.”

“I knew the moment had to come. I just didn’t want it to be right now.”

Gerard realised it right away, that his parents weren’t the only people he always seemed to disappoint. Mikey, his little brother, had always been there, to pick him up when he was drunk and make sure he got to bed, to give him a place to stay when he and Frank had been fighting. And now Gerard had spilled the only secret Mikey had ever trusted him to keep.

“Why Frank?” Gerard asked, and Mikey shrugged.

“He’s the only one who knows you as well as I do.”

And just like that, there it was. Gerard put his hand on the back of his brother’s neck and pulled him in for a sort-of hug.

Getting up from the couch, Gee went to the kitchen to get himself some coffee. His head was still angry with him but the aspirin he took before he left his parents’ house seemed to be helping. He noticed the muffled sound of an announcer coming from the radio in the corner, so he shuffled over to turn it up a little. The program was new, Gerard realised, open to submissions of demo tapes from local Jersey bands. The next band caught his attention.

The song was catchy, a little rough around the edges, but definitely marketable. Ever the music executive (The Executioner, Spencer called him when he had to break it to a band that the label wasn’t going to keep them on once their contract expired), he noted the smooth tone of the guitar, the raw, jaded quality of the vocalist’s voice. He turned it up a little more and walked back to the lounge.

“You heard of these guys, Mikes?”

Listening carefully, Mikey nodded. “Uh, yeah, that’s Pencey Prep. They have kind of a following around here.”

“I have to find out where they’re playing next. I think I wanna sign ‘em.”

His brother went oddly quiet, but Gerard didn’t push the matter any further.

***

After leaving Mikey’s, Gerard stopped by Frank’s house. He was loading heavy-looking cases into his car almost delicately.

“I just wanted to say goodbye,” Gerard said.

Frank looked up from what he was doing, a little shocked to find Gee standing there.

“I know what I did to Mikey last night was really shitty. And I know I’ve been an asshole to you. I just didn’t know what else to do.”

Looking more intently at Gerard, Frank shrugged. “You just have to remember that you’re one of us. You were born and raised here. Jersey’s in your blood.” He slammed his car door shut and went on, “I’m not the enemy here, Gee. Don’t make me out to be.”

Frank’s features softened noticeably, and Gerard couldn’t help but think that it was kind of nice not to be the cause of tension at that moment. Frank gestured toward his car. “Get in, I wanna show you something.” Gerard smiled but shook his head.

“I can’t. I’ve gotta get going.”

***

Sticking the third stamp to the envelope, Gerard was still lolling his tongue around in his mouth, trying to get rid of the taste. He looked down at it one more time, held it to his lips for a moment, then pushed it through the slot in the mailbox. It was finally over.

***

After walking the streets for well over an hour, Gerard ended up over at Linda’s bar. He’d been nursing the same beer for forty-five minutes, trying to avoid a repeat performance of the night before, when it finally hit him who the familiar bartender was.

“Patrick Stump, you asshole,” he grinned. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Patrick smiled sheepishly from under his tattered trucker cap. “Guess I thought you’d figure it out eventually.”

They got to talking on and off while Patrick tended bar. "So you're getting married again?" Patrick asked in disbelief. Gerard nodded and grinned without even meaning to. Looking down to the drink he was pouring, Patrick quietly added, "I guess you and Frank are finally done."

Gerard's head shot up to look at Patrick, slightly taken aback.

“You know he went looking for you right?”

When Gerard just stared at him, eyes wide, he continued. "Once he saw you working at Decaydance, he knew he’d need to do more with his life than what he was doing to get you back. He needed to think big.”

Gerard walked out of Linda Iero’s bar sober and oddly determined, even though he wasn’t sure what his determination was leading up to. He walked the streets some more, and ended up outside the pet cemetery. With a sigh, he pushed at the gate, the crunch of dry leaves under his feet barely audible over the creaking of the metal. He searched until he found the grave he’d been looking for.

“Pansy,” he whispered, touching the small cross that loomed over the grave. “I’m so sorry. I know I never said goodbye to you.”

Gerard’s voice started to crack under the strain of tears as he continued, “It wasn’t you, girl. It wasn’t. Things were just so messed up. When I left, you must have just sat there wondering what you did wrong –“

“I told her it was my fault.”

Gerard turned to find Frank staring softly over him, pity written all over his face. Walking over to where Gerard was sat in front of the old grave, Frank put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

“It was both of us, Gee. It just wasn’t working. It was for the best, you know that.”

Gerard stood, facing Frank fully. “What would have happened…” he started, “if I hadn’t made the decision? What if I could have been happy with just being Gerard Way, Frank Iero’s husband and best friend, instead of throwing it all away to make something of myself in an industry full of cutthroat assholes and potentially deadly vices?”

Frank looked away, almost shamefully, until Gerard stepped closer and cupped his rough cheek with a soft, artistic hand. Frank turned into the warmth of the palm against his face, eyes shut, breathing in the scent of the man in front of him. And then Gerard kissed him. It was tentative at first, soft, almost tender, yet fierce with want. He felt the wet of Gerard’s tears, and the wet of his mouth, and for a moment it all melted away. When they finally broke apart, they were both panting a little, and unsure of what to say.

Frank spoke at last. “Maybe you should go.”

***

The next morning, Gerard woke to his mother standing over him.

“Jesus Christ, mom! Privacy, please!” he screeched, then rolled back over.

His mother’s voice was almost sarcastic as she replied, “Well, I’d leave you sleeping, but your fiancé might think it a little rude.” Gerard’s eyes instantly went wide, as he rolled back over to face her.

“He’s here?! Now?!”

Donna Way rolled her eyes at her son. “Yes of course now. Would I be bothering to wake you if he wasn’t?”

Once he was up and dressed, he dragged himself out to the family room, where it seemed his parents were holding Jon captive under a mountain of family albums. Upon noticing him emerge, Jon beamed. He closed the album that was laid out on his lap, and rushed over to Gerard. Jon wrapped his arms around Gerard’s waist and kissed him hard, the uncomfortable looks apparent on his parents’ faces. Jon knew Gerard wouldn’t be coherent until after his third coffee of the morning, so he offered to make some for everyone. Donna looked at the boy like he was her new favourite son.

“Now you just sit down,” she said, “I’ll put the coffee on.”

They’d been talking for almost an hour. Well, Jon had been talking to Gerard’s parents, while Gerard sat on his third cup of coffee, almost awake enough to join in the conversation. That’s when it happened.

“You know Jon,” Mrs Way said fondly, “I like you. You’re a nice boy, and I think you’re going to be good for my son.”

Gerard couldn’t do more than roll his eyes at that point, and he didn’t even realise what was coming next until it was too late.

"Yes, I think you'll be very good for him. Not like that Iero boy he married the first time,” she added. “Now that was a disaster waiting to happen. But what boy ever listens to their mother?”

Both Gerard and Jon paled noticeably, and Jon’s mouth hung silently open. A deep, burning pain had risen up in his chest almost immediately, and he felt the beginnings of tears prickling his eyes. “I have to go,” he said, and stood to leave. Gerard was in front of him in a shot, pleading for him not to go, and Jon just stood there.

“Why should I stay?" he choked out. "It’s like I don’t even know you. How could you keep something like that from me?”

Gerard tried to speak, tried to explain, but Jon didn't hear. Jon didn't want to hear, and Gerard thought that maybe he deserved it.

Jon looked at him once more, but the love Gerard had seen there before had been replaced by hurt and contempt.

"I have to go," he said again. And with that, he did.

***

Half an hour later, Gerard had taken to wallowing. And not even the good kind, in his basement with his music. No, Gerard was sitting in the living room watching daytime soaps with his mother, and sniffling softly to himself every time he was reminded of his stupidity, or of Jon.

So when his father walked in, with Jon in tow, he didn’t know what to do. He sat there looking stunned, open and closing his mouth like a fish.

“Son,” his dad said. “Jon has something he wants to say, don’t you boy?”

Jon nodded nervously. “I’m so sorry. I love you. When I heard you’d been married before, I freaked out. But it’s okay. The shock’s passed, and if you’ll still have me, I’d still love to marry you.”

Utterly speechless, Gerard just bobbed his head. A grin pasted itself slowly across his face, and when his motor functions returned, he threw himself into Jon’s arms. Over Jon’s shoulder, his own eyes found his father’s.

He just nodded at his son, eyes seeming softer than Gerard had seen them since he’d been back. It was a look he’d never seen on his father’s face. His father was proud of him.

***

Over the next few weeks, they planned the wedding. Jon’s friends Ryan and Brendon tried desperately to get them to move the wedding to some place ‘more appropriate’, as they put it, but Gerard wanted to have it in his hometown. And Jon wanted that for Gerard.

Gerard flew Spencer out to help with the arrangements, and that night as they talked over drink’s, Gerard spotted the poster.

"Pencey Prep,” he said excitedly. “Spence, this is the band I was telling you about! The one I want to sign!” It only took the look Spencer gave Gee to know they were off to see Pencey Prep play that night.

***

Walking into the club, Spencer and Gerard were met with the smell of sweat and stale smoke. It came at them in waves, just like the damp heat coming off the crowd already huddled in front of the stage. If the body count was anything to go by, Gerard knew this band was going to put on an awesome show.

They’d arrived later than they’d planned, giving themselves only fifteen minutes or so to scope out the club and the fans before the band rushed on. Gerard was at the bar by then, still trying to wade through a sea of people to get himself and Spencer something to drink. The singer had his back to the audience when the drummer started the count, and Gerard thought there was something vaguely familiar about the guy, but from his place at the bar he couldn’t see him well enough to figure out why.

The band were already two songs through their set before Gerard had managed to pay for his drinks and start making his way back through the crowd, but just as he got back to the table Spencer had picked out, he saw the front man’s face and froze.

Spencer started fussing almost immediately. “Gerard, what is it? Have you taken something?! God, I told you, you’re better than that! What did you take?!”

“Shut up, Spencer.”

Shocked by the monotone, and the obvious fact that Gerard was actually entirely chemical-free, Spencer closed his mouth.

“He’s my husband,” Gerard said simply, and if Spencer hadn’t already stopped talking, that certainly would have done the job.

They stayed around until the end of the gig, Gerard still lost between confusion and admiration, and when the stage had been cleared, Gerard went to find Frank. In the post-gig wind down, a large number of people had wandered out, and he easily found Frank sitting at the bar, still drenched in sweat. He walked up behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Gerard actually seemed wounded at the thought that Frank would keep this from him. “You’re amazing. I can’t believe you did it. I know you always said you would, but this…” he motioned faintly toward the stage, “...this is something else. I’m really proud of you.”

The look on Frank’s face was not easily read. There was some kind of conflict going on in his head, but he wasn’t about to let Gerard in on what it was.

“I’m really glad you enjoyed the show,” he said with the hint of a sad smile, “I hope you and your husband can come back and see us next time you’re in town.” With that, he stood, raising his beer to Gerard, then disappeared into the remaining crowd.

***

“Mom, do you think I’m doing the right thing?”

Gerard’s mother smiled at him. “You know, the day I married your father, I almost walked out of that church and never looked back. And if I’d have done that, you wouldn’t be here.”

Taking a deep breath, Gerard twisted his mouth up in a feeble grin. It wasn’t much, but obviously his mother bought it, so he left it at that. He straightened his tie, and ran a hand through his long black hair. Looking himself over once more, he sighed and walked out of the room.

***

Not having a bride, the tradition of walking down the aisle had been overthrown. The nerves were heavy in both Jon and Gerard’s stomachs, but they only seemed to be showing on Gerard. The guests were seated, the husbands-to-be were positioned where everyone could see them, and the celebrant was ready to proceed.

He began, “Dearly beloved, we are –“

And then Gerard’s lawyer, Peter Wentz, showed up.

“Mr Way,” he said calmly, and Gerard flew back down the aisle to meet him half way. “What the hell are you doing here, Mr Wentz?” he questioned. “He signed the papers, doesn’t that take care of everything?”

Peter looked around, his eyes glinting with something that Gerard thought was maybe glee. You’re ruining my wedding, and you’re enjoying it? he thought. “He signed,” Peter announced to everyone. “You didn’t.”

At some point, Jon had joined Gerard in the aisle, looking at him quizzically. “I thought you took care of this, Gee.”

“I thought I had,” he said dryly. “Let’s get this over with, anybody got a pen?”

He looked around for a minute, people patting down jackets and rummaging through pockets. Finally, Linda passed her pen over. He took it reluctantly, and studied her face for a moment. He thought about all the times he'd missed Frank, missed Linda, missed the life they had here, and he knew.

“I can’t,” Gerard said weakly.

Jon’s face went blank as he stared at his fiancé, before finally managing, “So, that’s what this feels like.”

“What?”

“Being left at the altar, so to speak,” Jon said. He smiled, a small defeated smile, and patted Gerard's shoulder. “It’s okay,” he said, and even though it may have seemed like a futile gesture to everyone else, it meant the world to Gerard. As Jon turned to leave, Gerard grinned and belted out over the din, “Linda’s Bar, half an hour. I’ve gotta go find my husband!”

***

Walking into the practice space, Gerard had never been more sure of anything in his entire life. Frank was the man he loved, the only man, and he had to get him back in his life. It took a little searching to find the right room, but once he’d found it, he walked inside purposefully, like a man on a mission.

“Frank,” he said softly. Frank stopped plucking his guitar strings, a little disbelieving that this was real. “What are you doing here?” he asked, and Gerard’s features softened.

“Apparently you and I are still married,” Gerard told him as nonchalantly as possible.

Frank tried hard to find his tongue again, but all he could manage was a small huh. The sound was soft and breathy and did nothing to keep Gerard’s composure.

After careful deliberation, Frank said, “You still gonna want me around?”

Gerard smiled, wide and unrestrained. His memory skipped back to the dream he’d had just the night before his return to New Jersey, and the way he still recalled the minor details of the past he’d been dreaming about.

“Well yeah,” Gerard said, just the way Frank had in his dream. “I don’t remember a time when I didn’t.” They moved toward each other, kissing like they had years to make up for, and really, they did.

***

When Frank and Gerard arrived down at the bar, the whole place erupted in cheers. Gerard pulled Frank in for another kiss, before telling everyone to make use of the open bar.

Out of the corner of his eye, Gerard saw Mikey sitting in a corner. He was smiling contently but still seemed overly quiet, even for Mikey. Gerard ambled over to him and ruffled his hair before sitting down.

“What’s up, Mikes?” Gerard asked.

Mikey started to sigh but caught himself. He didn't want to ruin his brother’s big day, even if it didn’t go to plan, so he just shook his head. “Nothing, Gee. It’s been a good day.”

He’d never been a particularly good liar, but this time Mikey was utterly transparent. Gerard took it upon himself to call Spencer over.

“Spencer, this is my brother, Mikey. Mikey,” he drew the sentence out, like he was getting some kind of pleasure from it, “this is Spencer Smith.”

It didn’t take much for the two shy boys to hit it off, and Gerard slipped away unnoticed. He took a last look at them, watched them inch closer and smile bigger with every word. He curled his arm back around Frank and kissed him on the cheek, and he knew he was right where he was supposed to be.