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They get married and fly out the next day. Gerard's lightheaded from the thin Denver air and having his mouth all over Lindsey, his wife, on their wedding night, and Lindsey's alternately smirking at the dark bruises at the base of Gerard's neck and ducking her head to smile when she thinks no one's looking, secret smiles Gerard has to echo.
Then, hours later, they stand in the middle of LAX, people streaming out past the Ground Transportation sign like salmon driven by a single urge.
Gerard scratches the back of his neck and turns to Lindsey. Last time he looked at her was ten seconds ago, and his stomach still lurches and flips at the sight of her face, so perfect-imperfect, at the look in her eyes that says everything he's thinking back to him.
"Where do we go?" he asks her. "My place or yours?"
Lindsey bites her lip through her grin. "Which one of us needs to do laundry more?"
"I never need to do laundry."
"Then mine. Definitely mine."
They grab a cab. Gerard thinks about slipping a hand up Lindsey's skirt, stealthy and discreet, but instead he falls asleep leaning on her shoulder, the scent of her dry shampoo and just her surrounding him.
Lindsey's house is full of that empty-house smell and faint traces of lemon cleaner, because his wife has her shit together and gets a cleaning service to come in, but it's far from cold and empty. It's her - there are loud prints all over the walls, a mishmash of color on the furniture, and about five different cat trees hammered together in front of the giant bay window.
"I have to pick them up from boarding."
There's something uncertain in Lindsey's voice, and when Gerard turns around there's something uncertain in her eyes too, so he has to kiss her right there. "I love your place."
He's allergic to cats, but that's, like, the last thing he's worried about.
They order Chinese and have sex in Lindsey's bed waiting for the food to arrive; then they eat, shower, and have sex again. Gerard is seriously thinking about selling his house when Lindsey wiggles out of bed and pulls on a pair of jeans Gerard's never seen before.
"Where are you going?"
"I have to pick up the cats." Lindsey smiles at him, looking younger than Gerard's used to with no lipstick on and just faint smudges of eyeliner and mascara around her eyes.
"Wait," Gerard suddenly frowns. "Are you going alone?"
He sees a flash of Lindsey's raised eyebrow right before she pulls on a t-shirt over her head. "I thought you'd want to go see Mikey."
And, shit. In the whirlwind of-- of everything, Gerard hasn't spoken to Mikey since right before the last show, pacing backstage with his phone pressed so hard to his ear it hurt just to hear Mikey's reaction to the news over the din. They only exchanged a few words before Ray pulled him into a huddle and Frank pulled the phone out of his hands and putting it on speaker so Mikey'd be part of their huddle too.
"Yeah," says Gerard. He's suddenly nervous. "I… yeah."
"I'll give you a lift," Lindsey says and throws his t-shirt at him.
Lindsey kisses him long and sweet in front of Mikey and Alicia's place and doesn't drive off until he rings the doorbell. Gerard tries hard not to shuffle nervously with Lindsey's eyes on his back, because fuck, he still wants to be cool in front of her, or at least just a little cooler than he is.
He wants to be cool in front of Mikey too, as stupid as that is. They haven't seen each other all summer. Mikey had his own problems and his own cool wife -- and fuck, if Mikey's not there, Gerard will be up shit creek without a ride.
Mikey opens the door just as Gerard rings the doorbell a second time, and looks at Gerard with a tiny but completely blinding smile. He's too pale for the end of summer, but he looks good. Better than the last time Gerard saw him.
"Hey, Gee. Come in." Mikey steps aside with that little smile still lighting up his face, and Gerard launches himself at Mikey instead of walking inside like a normal person.
Mikey hugs back, snickering under his breath and pulling Gerard inside. "Missed you too."
Gerard pulls back just enough to properly look at Mikey's face, scrutinizing him closely. He looks… better, definitely like the break did him good, his eyes less shadowed and his hair weirdly cleaner. Gerard rubs a strand of it between his fingers to make sure.
Mikey doesn't even raise an eyebrow, just hugs back tight. "I'm glad you're back."
He could ask, are you back?, but he just says, "Me too," and finally lets Mikey go.
It takes a while for Mikey to untangle his skinny arms from Gerard's back, enough time for Gerard to point out the obvious but important. "I got married."
"I know," says Mikey. "I want to meet her."
"You've met her," Gerard points out, tailing Mikey into the living room and flopping down on the sofa. "Sit next to me."
Mikey sits down right next to Gerard, maybe an inch of space between them, and looks at him intently.
"What?" says Gerard, squirming. He just doesn't have weeks as good as this one's been, counting down to getting back home, to Mikey, proposing, getting married. He keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to feel weird, but it just doesn't.
Mikey looks like he might know, kinda, what Gerard's thinking, but lets it drop. "D'you want to watch the Terminator marathon tonight?
"Yeah!" Gerard says and immediately feels guilty. "I need to check with Lindsey first, though."
He watches Mikey's reaction out of the corner of his eye, but Mikey still seems pretty happy. "She can come too. I gotta tell her embarrassing shit about you."
"Whatever," Gerard says coolly, happiness suffusing his whole body. "You have nothing on me that I don't have on you."
"Aw, shit," Mikey says, grinning for real now. "It'll have to be a normal family night, then."
Family, family, thinks Gerard and brushes his knuckles against the back of Mikey's hand. "Maybe tomorrow night? I want to hang out with just you."
Mikey raises his eyebrow but looks pretty pleased. "It's your honeymoon."
"I can fit a lot into my schedule."
Gerard will never get tired of surprising a laugh out of Mikey.
"I bet," Mikey says fondly, knocking his knuckles against Gerard's.
Gerard bites his lip. There won't be a better time to say this, so he might as well do it now, when they're both relaxed and happy. "Hey, Mikes. We're not doing this again. Us without you."
Mikey looks at Gerard very seriously. "We'll talk about it."
Gerard pulls Mikey in for another hug, letting it go. "Yeah, sure."
For all of Mikey's seriousness, he doesn't get how deadly serious Gerard is about this, how serious they all were about it when they decided mid-tour that they couldn't stand not to have Mikey with them. Mikey wouldn't believe him anyway, but that's all right.
It's fine, because Gerard will get his way.