FIC: Just Frankie- Taste Of Chaos- MCR



title: Taste Of Chaos
author: lisa roquin
rating: 15ish
fandom: MCR
series/sequel: Just Frankie Verse
characters/pairings: Frank, Bob, Matt
disclaimer: lies, fiction, untrue. completely and totally made up.
summary: Taste of Chaos is just that, chaos. Bob doesn't regret it, even when he's kinda stuck in the middle
warning: transFrank. substence abuse issues/recovery
author's note: for the birthdaygoodies offer for jiltanith
wordcount: 2258

stories in Just Frankie Verse (verse chronological order)
Just Frankie || Stumbling Forward || Nothing That Can't Be Dealt With || Taste Of Chaos || Even Just the Road Gets Lonely



Taste of Chaos was kinda just that–chaos. Gerard was sober. Bert was not.

Gerard wanted to save Bert from himself, with the purest of intentions in all honesty. Bert... Well, Bert was Bert and his own worst enemy. Bob counted the Used singer amongst his friends, his good friends. But being Bert McCracken’s friend took a strong stomach, and in all honesty, the resignation that there were going to be train wrecks, lots of them. Messy, terrifying explosions and walls ran into, sometimes literally and at high speeds, were to be expected and quite likely sooner than later, Bert accidentally dead on some cocktail of god knows what, because that was far more likely than something giving, something breaking and Bert pulling out of where he was no matter how everyone might hope otherwise. You could try. You could hope. You could do your damndest to steer him into less disastrous situations, but Bert was his own worst enemy and there really wasn’t a helluva lot you could do about the stubborn son of a bitch but hope and watch and pick up wreckage.

Gerard had a hard time doing that, at least when it came to Bert. It wasn’t really the crusading fervor known to strike the newly sober that Bert had accused it being. It was just Gerard. Gerard was painfully sincere, and painfully eager, when it came to people he truly cared about in a spiral like Bert’s. Only it wasn’t so much a spiral as just Bert’s normal functioning. Hell, Gerard had seen it and tried when he’d been as fucked up as Bert. Bob remembered Bert’s drunken snarling even if neither Bert nor Gerard had clear memories of the incidents that had Bert snarling back then.

Whatever the hell it was with the two of them, it wasn’t just a road thing exactly even if that’s where it stayed. They were all fucking ready for this tour to be over if only to get Bert and Gerard away from each other because there was some bizarre gravitational pull between them that they didn’t seem to manage to even attempt avoiding each other. The more they both swore they weren’t going near the other, the more everyone worked to keep them busy and distracted as far apart as possible, the quicker the two would be attached at the hip.

*


“Hey,” Frank said as he down next to Bob who hadn’t noticed the smaller man enter the room until the bed bounced with his weight and his earbud was pulled from his ear.

“Not again?” Bob sighed.

“Nah, Gee’s with Ray. Mikey and Matt are out partying. No fuckin’ clue about Bert but Quinn’s good about finding him.”

Bob nodded. He’d seen plenty when he was doing sound. Different bands. Different ways they worked or imploded. Sometimes, these guys were kind of scary, especially still not quite settled in to where he fit even after several months now. They’d been a bit wary at first. Bob didn’t blame them for that. Not when Brian had gotten wires crossed over Frank. Though, Bob thought that Brian had kinda been on his last fried nerve.

Their insular little world was...yeah, it was kind of scary. He’d slipped into somewhere along the edges of the Used’s world, though the Used’s was different. Not like these guys, not so inclusive and closed ranks, not exactly.

These guys had let him in, warily and cautiously but let him into their little world, how they clung to shreds of sanity in the crazy business, with the touring and everything else. He liked them even more now than when he’d been watching them a couple arm lengths away. When he’d watched Frank go after Matt in Europe and Gerard drunkenly crawling, and that dissolved into laughter.

Cortez was completely in their circle, even if he stayed a few steps away most of the time, busy with his own shit, with the equipment and the job he had to do. He’d ironically been the most wary of Bob at first. Or maybe not, considering how tight Cortez was with Frank.

“What’s up then?” Bob frowned slightly, because Frank was biting at his lip ring and wound up with a tenseness that was almost palpable.

“Shit this morning...you okay?” Frank asked.

Bob sighed. Bus call that morning had been all kinds of fucked up, complete with two AWOL lead singers and a lot of hurled venom and an empty whiskey bottle flying vaguely in the direction of heads once the two lead singers were found and hauled off to their separate busses. Quinn had been worse than Bert. Bert would foam at the mouth when he was wasted and wound up. Quinn had been stone cold sober and told Bob to fuck off. It hadn’t been better when Bob had finally flat out asked Gerard why he didn’t just give it the hell up and leave Bert the fuck alone for everyone’s sake. That hadn’t gone over very well, even less so since Bob was the only one that knew that Jeph and Quinn had been demanding the same thing of Bert, to just fucking stop and leave Gerard alone. “Yeah.” Bob nodded.”Sooner this is over, the better. And hopefully a good long time before we’re on the same tour as them.”

Frank nodded. “They’re your friends.”

Bob shrugged. “So are you guys. Bert and Gerard just...yeah. See them when Gerard’s not around.”

Frank’s eyes narrowed a little.

“You know what I mean. There is no side taking. Just better for them and everyone else if they’re not in the same general area.”

Frank nodded tiredly. “That’s the fuckin’ truth.”

Bob kind of wanted to ask how Frank ended up the one who hung with Gerard the most...and even when he had a night entirely to his own devices, he kind of just retreated. When he partied, he hung closely to Ray or Matt and in the past it had been Gerard he’d clung to like a burr.

“Why aren’t you out if it’s Ray’s night?”

Frank snorted.

“You know what I mean.” Bob said lamely. It wasn’t like there was a Gerard Sitting Schedule, or even that Gerard needed one. Gerard was good about grabbing one of them and saying something, even just a random bizarre spiel of comic book story arcs or..mating habits of fucking unicorns or something. It was more that they just quietly made sure one or two were available if Gerard was looking tired or kind of rough and he might need the company. It was the way these guys worked. The way they maneuvered and watched each others backs. It wasn’t even spoken, not planned or discussed, just...was. It was also kind of how the room draw for hotel nights stuck Frank in with Matt when he was looking worn down. They didn’t have usually room assignments. Not like a lot did. Not the band anyway. It was simply toss a coin, draw straws whatever. Who was on their last nerve and who was least likely to grate it for roommate. A worn out Frank meant Matt or Gerard for his roommate. An edgy Gerard meant Frank or maybe Ray and Matt with Mikey and the two of them partying hard. “That blonde in merch is into you..”

Frank stared.

Bob was honestly puzzled. “You like girls right?” That sounded like a stupid question even to his own ears. “ Or you and Jamia back together?”

Frank simply stared more. “No we’re not and it’s not quite that fucking easy.” Frank finally said, an edge in his voice.

Bob blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh” Frank said harshly.

“Sorry. Forgot....” Bob broke off and wondered if he could sound like any more of a goddamned moron. It seemed unlikely.

Frank shook his head and let it slide. He liked the guys forgot. Fuck, he hated to be the one pointing out the obvious when they did and something came up that just was no, like Matt’s suggestion of hitting the hotel’s pool three stops back. But Bob forgetting, well..that...shit. That just made his head hurt all the more all things considered.

“Do–“ Frank began.

Bob looked at Frank and waited. “Do what?” Bob finally asked and resisted the urge to squirm under the look in Frank’s eyes he couldn’t quite categorize.

“Do you like, wish you hadn’t signed up with us or something? The way you hang back and kinda don’t talk...sometimes don’t talk At. All. Like not a fucking word when we’re on the road...Is it us? Me? Just the Gerard and Bert shit or what? I mean yeah, we’re all kinda freaks. Look at the bus rules for fuck’s sake but...we? Are we that bad?”

Bob gaped. He was the new guy, even if he’d worked with them and done sound for them in Europe, it wasn’t exactly the same. Brian had let him in on shit they hadn’t decided–Frank hadn’t decided he wanted Bob to know or not. Gerard and Bert well. Yeah. There was that mess but that was all their own making and despite the tensions between the two bands because of it, it was still mostly protective of their own not hating the other. Not hate hating, though Bert sure as hell wasn’t on the favorite people list of Frank, Mikey, Ray or Matt. Bob could understand that. Bert had a knack for pissing people off to the point of blind rages, whatever gift he’d been born with for pissing off people in general had been honed to a fucking artform when he decided to go all out. And Bert–yeah, had been going all out in the direction of the rest of My Chem’s quiet disapproval of the Gerard-and-Bert Saga.

If Bert and Gerard could just–say done and avoid each other then that would go a long ways with that. And it really was both of them. Some strange cosmic pull that...Christ he’d read too many comic’s lately but there really wasn’t any good normal, sane description for the way Bert and Gerard sort of magnetized together no matter what.

“No–I–“ Bob shook his head. He swallowed. “I want this too fucking much. This job. This band...and...”

“And we’re all sorts of fucked up and scared to death of us, huh?” Frank snorted.

“Not exactly but..”

“Dude, there isn’t much we can’t roll with. Unless you like kinda completely fuck with us or fuck us over ya know? Hell, Otter told us to fuck off before we got the balls to tell him to fucking walk and it just...shit. And hell if anyone’s going to break Ray it’ll be me, Gee or Mikes so you shouldn’t have to worry about that either. Unless you like...bring farm animals back to the bus or use the back lounge for a BDSM scene or something, and then that’d just probably add to the bus rules. Probably top the ‘No threesomes or orgies on the bus’ and the ‘Both Ways or No Ways having sex on the bus’ rules but that’d be about it and Ray hiding for a bit. And like we’d make sure never to leave you alone with pets if we ever had any.”

“You’re a sick little fucker, Iero,” Bob spluttered, then laughed.

“You just now figuring that out?” Frank grinned slowly.

“C’mon, wanna go find Mikey and Matt? I’ll even just have a couple beers so you got someone to watch your back if–“ Bob broke off the offer. Shit. The light no more than went on as to why Frank didn’t tend to party that much even if he’d get drunk off his fucking ass with Cortez on a hotel night from time to time.

Frank grinned. “Sounds good.”

*

“Frank?” Matt raised a worried eyebrow.

“Bob’s designated band herder. I’m getting drunk with you guys.”

Mikey giggled.

“You are fuckin’ trashed, Mikeyway,” Frank shook his head with a smile and carefully kept the worry from his face. Mikey seemed to be settling though. Even with all the Bert-&-Gerard Drama, Gerard was holding pretty steady despite the side of Drama and that seemed to have Mikey evened out.

Frank shoved aside the chaos in his own head, and the occasional look from Bob, which didn't seem to be anything bad, just pieces rapidly falling into place finally over some of the realities of life from Frank's perspective. And it was Bob who warded off the blonde from merch who with the aid of a few beers was making her interest in a hook up with Frank way too clear, and tactile for comfort.

Frank laughed as Matt managed to steer her off, she seemed happy enough to have found a willing second choice. Matt found them again an hour or so later, Mikey had disappeared with someone with long black hair and a jean jacket on--so not really identifiable for who or even gender what Frank had seen of Mikey's retreating back.

"So we playing Awkward Twenty Questions Version Bob?" Frank slurred as the three of them headed for Bob and Frank's hotel room.

"Is it a one time offer?" Bob frowned.

"No. Not for you guys."

"Maybe someday." Bob shrugged. "Just kick me if I'm stupid."

"Okay." Frank grinned up at Bob. "I can do that. Ask Matt."

Chaos or not, Bob knew even more certainly now than he did when Brian tossed the job offer and the reasons he shouldn't take it at him, this was something he was never going to regret, being part of My Chem. Chaos, shit he'd never even thought to think twice about being potential problems, days long arguments over super powers and all.