mwestbelle

Gerard frowns. "Shit," he manages, and he gets up to rummage through his bag, checking the pockets of all of his pants, the bottom of the bag, the zipper pockets--and it's in one of the inner zipper pockets, almost impossible to get to, that, improbably enough, he actually finds one. "Whoa, hey. I've got one." He's more than a little surprised, even more so when he finds that he's actually got four or five. "I have no idea how old they are, though," he tells Frank, but he's pretty sure that the bag itself isn't more than a year or two old so they can't be that old.

He takes one and walks over to Frank, still by his bag, and leans down to kiss him, hard. Anticipation is thrilling through him.