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The first time Bert meets Gerard is in a pizzeria somewhere in the middle of nowhere.
Before they go in Brian takes Bert to the side and says, “Please don’t do anything that’ll get us thrown out. And don’t scare the other guys.” Bert nods and tries to give his best impression of someone who’d never even consider doing anything like that, even though they both know he totally would. Brian just sighs.
Bert likes Brian, which is why he’s nice to the waitress and really subtle when he passes Quinn the can of beer under the table. He only gropes Jepha’s thigh because he knows Jepha likes getting his thigh groped and he only almost licks the face of the other band’s singer. He’s just about to lean over the table, because the guy looks so fucking sweet that Bert really wants to know if he tastes like that, too, when he sees Brian’s face cloud over like it does when he’s about to tell Bert off for doing something inappropriate. Bert sinks back into his seat immediately.
He’s a fucking saint.
** ** **
They have just arrived at the first stop of Warped, the engine of the bus hasn’t even cooled down yet, when Bert sees him again.
Black hair. Black clothes. Pretty, almost too pretty. Standing in front of a van with his shoulders hunched up, smoking a cigarette.
Bert’s kneeling on the couch in the front bit of their bus, hips pressed against the back cushion, face against the window, and he just has to slide a hand inside his shorts to give his dick a quick squeeze.
He’s absolutely smitten.
** ** **
Bert plays it cool, keeps his distance for a whole fucking week before he makes his move.
Gerard’s waxing lyrically about gender equality, about how everyone should be able to love the person they want without fear of repercussions. All Bert can think about is that if it came down to it, would Gerard put his money where his mouth is, or, more specifically, would Gerard put his pretty mouth on Bert’s cock. Bert’s sure it would feel amazing, Gerard would look so beautiful on his knees.
Quinn’s looking at him in a way that says don’t go there, don’t touch this, just stay away, but that makes Bert just want it even more.
** ** **
“I’m straight,” Gerard gasps when Bert kisses him for the first time.
“Yeah, me too,” Bert answers and goes in for more.
** ** **
After days of kissing and holding hands Bert finally gets his hand down Gerard’s pants and wrapped around his cock. Bert thinks that maybe he should be using both hands, actually, because Gerard’s big. It’s not that he didn’t know, he’s watched Gerard on stage for fuck’s sake, and Mikey is surprisingly talkative if he’s got the right chemicals in his bloodstream. But still.
It’s a pleasant surprise.
He’s tempted to get his hands down Mikey’s pants at some point, too, because if the dude thinks his brother’s only slightly larger than average Bert wants to see what Mikey’s packing. Problem is, there might be an unwritten rule about hooking up with siblings. Bert’s not sure if it also applies to brothers, but it definitely is a thing when sisters are involved. Especially if you attempt to make a threesome happen with both of them.
He’d get Quinn to investigate the content of Mikeyways pants, but Quinn isn’t all that interested and goes all tight-lipped and bitchy at the mention of the word “Way”. So Bert sends Jepha instead.
Turns out Gerard’s the chaste one in the Way family, or Jepha really is the Sex-Ninja Quinn claims he is, because it only takes a few hours for Jepha to return with bite marks on his neck and a happily-dazed, fucked-out expression on his face.
Bert doesn’t need Jepha’s thumbs up to know what that means (Jepha’s a fucking size-Queen), but for the sake of not fucking this up he feels it might be better to concentrate on Gerard and leave the other Way alone.
** ** **
Bert still can’t understand why someone so perfectly, exquisitely broken, so handsomely, prettily awkward, wants to be around a fuck up like him.
He’s got to keep his hands in his pockets at all times whenever he and Gerard are out and about, otherwise he wouldn’t stop touching him to see if he’s real or if Bert’s imagining things.
** ** **
So Gerard gets sober and Bert doesn’t.
It’s not that he couldn’t. It’s just that he doesn’t want to.
He tells himself that unlike Gerard he can handle it. He might be lying to himself. But drugs don’t make him suicidal, Bert is certain he wants to live since the day he met Quinn, and he doesn’t go down the rabbit hole the way Gerard did.
Bert also knows he’s an addict. He has, amongst other things, an addictive personality. He didn’t need therapy to know that, but it was nice to get it confirmed.
He’s taken all the drugs he could get his hands on, some of which had names he couldn’t pronounce, some of which didn’t even have names, but that’s not half of it.
He gets attached to things.
To people.
To Gerard.
** ** **
Bert tries, he really tries, to stay sober. But then Quinn scores some weed, Jepha just happens to find a bottle of Jack and someone else has chemicals to share, and Bert thinks just this once and after a while he doesn’t think that much at all. It’s a good night, and an even better morning. He’s still riding the halo of his high when he crawls back into the bus after their set to find Gerard’s already there, waiting, looking like Bert has killed a puppy.
“You promised!” he says, with disappointment in his voice.
“You weren’t there,” Bert answers. Gerard shakes his head.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Gerard says and leaves.
** ** **
He always knew they were meant to fail, that it couldn’t work out. The whore never gets the prince, the girl from the wrong side of the tracks only ever marries the rich kid in the movies, although Bert thinks he’d look fucking awesome in a pretty pink dress.
When Bert’s sober he knows it’s better this way, but he’s not sober very much and that’s why he makes decisions that aren’t all that well-advised. Like dropping not-at-all subtle hints in interviews or putting a song they’ve recorded together on his band’s album.
And maybe it wasn’t all that smart to get wasted after coming off stage with Street Drum Corps, but the megaphone is right there, and it sounds like a really great idea at the time, and the next thing Bert remembers is climbing onto the roof of a bus. The words come out before someone can stop him.
When he gets summoned to the MCR bus afterwards there’s a look of pity on Gerard’s face and Frank is looking smug curled up against his side.
“You moved on quickly,” Bert grates, fighting down the bile that’s rising in his stomach.
“It’s not like that,” Gerard answers. Calm. So fucking calm.
“Of course it’s not.” Bert just wants to punch him, wreck this perfect, handsome face.
“I think you should leave now,” Frank says.
“He’s gonna do the same to you,” Bert spits out before someone much more in control of the situation manages to wrap their arms around his waist and drag him away.
** ** **
“He never really loved you,” Quinn says when Bert crawls into his bunk. Bert doesn’t, can’t, believe that. They had something, he could feel it in his heart. He knows what Quinn means is he didn’t love you enough. Which, Bert has to admit, is true. Gerard didn’t love him enough to say the words when he wasn’t high. Not enough to trust Bert to get sober in his own time. Not enough. What Quinn also means is he never loved you as much as I do.
Which Bert also knows is true.
And Quinn’s there, Quinn’s been there before and he’s there after. Quinn will always be there.
Gerard was a sprint, a mad rush for the finish line, fuelled by alcohol, white powder and colourful little pills.
Quinn’s a marathon.
** ** **
He’s just come off stage at Reading, they’ve played a blinding set in the sunshine with an awesome wall of death, when he notices the little notification light on his cell flashing. Wrinkling his forehead, he checks his messages.
You were right. Frnk flashes up in black on grey. Bert can’t remember giving Frank his number, wouldn’t know why he wanted to, but he knows Jepha’s still talking to the My Chem guys. And Jepha’s shown him a video of Frank and Gerard fighting on stage a day ago.
Bert thinks he should feel justified, full of I told you so, but all he feels is the phantom ache of an old wound. He’s almost sympathetic, knows what Frank’s going through, but it’s not like he can help him. Or wants to help him.
A few days later Gerard gets married. Bert hears about it from Quinn.
“Hope he’s happy now. At least he doesn’t have to hide her,” is all he says.
** ** **
Bert wears fame like he wears his most comfortable clothes. He was a rockstar long before he actually became one, and sometimes he thinks that being a rockstar is what saved him. It was that or die as a homeless drug addict. When Bert goes on stage he steps into his skin, fills it out more, throws his soul into the crowd and hopes to get some of it back. Larger than life comes as natural to him as breathing.
It’s life off stage he’s got issues with.
Gerard wears clothes to feel famous. He played the role of a rockstar and he played it well, but he always needed a costume, a persona, or even just fucking huge sunglasses to make him feel like a star. When Gerard steps on stage he puts on a fucking great show, but he doesn’t loose himself.
So Bert’s neither shocked nor thrilled nor, much to his surprise, fucking delighted when he hears that My Chem have called it quits.
** ** **
Turns out happily ever after is not, in fact, forever.
When Quinn leaves he takes a piece of Bert’s heart with him. There’s so much anger, so much rage, so much hurt when it all goes down, and it keeps going down, down, down in interviews and press articles. There are lawyers involved and a lot of bad blood.
Bert hopes it will be ok, eventually, but right now he just stands back. Takes the high ground, for once, because he fought this battle before and just look where it got him.
** ** **
“You should talk to him,” Jepha says when he hands him Gerard’s number.
Bert’s first reaction is “Why?”, but then he surprises himself by thinking “Why the fuck not?”.
There’s been a lot of water under bridges since those fateful days and nights on tour, and life’s too short to hold grudges forever (unless you’re Quinn, Quinn is the master of eternal grudge-holding, apparently).
So Bert and Gerard meet up and talk - about their families, about their children, about being sober, about how life has continued to just move on. But there are things they don’t, can’t talk about.
Gerard pauses just before he leaves. “I’m sorry,” he says. He sounds sincere and Bert believes him.
But when they say time heals all wounds they never mention the scars these wounds have left.
“It’s okay,” Bert replies and almost believes himself.
They will never go back to how they once were, but maybe, just maybe, they can build something new.