So citric that goes sour

Good Little Girls They Never Show It (Drabble)

2009-11-08T01:38:12Z

Title: Good Little Girls They Never Show It (Drabble)
Author: citricpepper
Beta: andimparalyzed
Pairing: Frank/Girl!Gerard
Genre: General/Comedy (or a good try)
Rating: PG-13
POV: Third, Frank-centered
Disclaimer: This story is true. Also, Gerard is an amazingly cute lesbian who puts socks inside her underwear :O
Warnings: Genderswap, few curses, a bit of fluff, brief drug mention and it's pretty short
Summary: Girl!Gee's PMSing and she's driving her poor boyfriend absolutely insane with it

Gee is PMS'ing. She'll never admit it, but she is. However Frank knows better than that. Hell, he even has the days of her cycle written in a paper stashed along with his weed. It’s a precaution he takes so that he can brace himself for what's coming.

The two are going to this thing tonight (at some party at some guy from the labor's pad) so Gee decided to dress up. She comes into the bus lounge in impossibly tight black jeans, a corset and red high heels. She looks smoking. She looks tall.

"Gee." Frank groans. "Gee, you're wearing heels." She rolls her painted eyes.

"I noticed, dumbass. I even put them on myself, could you believe that?" Frank tries to be patient. It's not her entire fault, he tells himself.

"You know I really hate when we go out and I'm looking like, whatthehell, six inches shorter than you, christsake." Frank is the man in the relationship, you know? He is. And he deserves to look like a tall man.

"Huh." She chooses to ignore him and goes to check her lipstick on the mirror. "Yeah. Sucks to have a hobbit for a boyfriend. Maybe I should go find another."

***

It's been three days and Frank's going crazy.

He's really trying to stay out of her way, but every time they bump into each other she starts to yell at him for random things. She threw the mic on Frank's head the other day on stage, too.

When he was eleven, he'd never would have guessed that he'd be praying for his girlfriend to get her goddamn period already, because, like, ew. Blood coming from places it shouldn't come from is not okay and, a week without sex, fuck, death. But right now, he'd much rather be nursing her while her uterus is killing her. At least she gets all awesomely cuddly and she's still her sweet, dorky, amazing Gee and not some angry monster from outer space.

Speaking of her, she is stepping into the lounge, yawning, and her face doesn't look like she's about to kill anyone so Frank squints up at her, hopeful.

"Good morning, baby."

"What's so good about it?" Huh. Wrong guess.

"Uh."

"Where's the coffee?" Shit.

"Ah... I think Mikey was the first to get up." Her eyes narrow dangerously.

"Fuck! Where is he? God, I'm so calling Alicia and telling her he cheats on her with half of Warped Tour, and I'm so--"

"Gee, c'mon, you should chill a bit..." This whole thing is affecting his masculinity. He shouldn't be running away from a girl who wouldn't hurt a fly, because he's totally badass and hardcore, okay? It doesn't help that he isn't getting any, either.

"Frank? Why don't you go to hell?" Jesus. Frank really, really loves his girl, but there are times that he could strangle her.

"What the fuck? You're being too much of a bitch, you know? I'm trying to be the bigger man here, but seriously Guinevere, you should get a little perspective of your behavior." She turns to him and her eyes are two motherfucking knives right now, and the way her face is getting completely pink flashes 'Trouble' in neon lights.

"What did you just call me?" It's not that Frank is a coward or anything, he totally could stay, but he read the other day in this magazine that 75% of the murders committed by women happen when they are PMS'ing, so he just chooses to hide under the kitchen table for the rest of the morning.

***

It's their day off in Boston and Gee hasn't come out of her hotel bedroom for the entire evening. Frank is getting worried, but he's also scared that she would use him to test some sort of terrible torture out if he goes in, so he doesn’t. But by five, he starts to get really lonely and bored. So he breathes deeply and decides to go into the room.

Gee is totally curled up on the small couch, eating chocolate and watching some lameass old movie. She's wearing those loose pajama shorts that display her round, milky thighs and oh, hey, she's totally not wearing a bra under the worn out R2-D2 t-shirt. Frank's stomach loops, because, yeah, hot. But then it's not, when he looks at her face he sees she's crying.

"Oh, baby..." He walks up to her and pats her knee, just in case she's still mad at the world. She blushes and turns her face around. She never really cries randomly like this, usually, Frank cries first whenever they have a fight or see an abandoned puppy and Frank's okay with that because real men weep, okay? But not Gee, she usually stays tough and hates to be seeing crying like this. "Why are you crying?" She looks at him and her pretty face is all scrunched up and red.

"I don't know." She answers sincerely. He laughs a little and she laughs through her tears and it must really suck to get blue out of nowhere like this. He sympathizes.

She's also massaging her tummy slightly, he notices, which means that she's in a bit of pain and real soon the PMS nightmare will be over. He wonders in how many pieces she'd cut him if he knew he's relieved because she's in pain.

"God, what a lame girlfriend, huh? When I'm not screaming, I'm crying as if I were a broken faucet or something," she sobs and it's like it's not her decision to do so, but it's startled out of her. Something breaks inside Frank's heart because he knows she only shows as fragile and vulnerable to him, and no one else. It kind of makes him want to marry her or something. He pulls her closer to him, caressing her dirty hair.

"Hey, lady. . . I wouldn't have it any other way, eh? You know, because of this whole thing of being head over heels in love with you and all." She honks out a relieved laugh.

"You promise?" She looks up to him, her eyes all stupidly wide and wet behind those huge black eyelashes. He thinks of it and yeah, he really wants her all of himself, forever. With everything the Gee package includes.

"I promise, stupid. Besides," He blows a raspberry on her wet temple. "You get really fucking hot with the whole serial killer look on."

The End

So, there you have it. My first genderswap real fic. Well, it's not even a real fic, but whatever. I don't even know where that came from. Probably me suffering with my PMS myself. Anyway, comments and/or con-crit are love. Also, thanks to my new beta for being so nice to me and beta-ing this right away :3

The guardian, the lost and the fake (one-shot)

2008-11-05T21:44:41Z

Title: The guardian, the lost and the fake (one-shot)
Author: citricpepper
Beta: the lovely gee4president</lj>
Pairing: Sort of Bert/Gerard, Gerard/Lyn-Z mentioned
Genre: Angst/General
Summary: Gerard needs rescue; Bert might be the one that can provide it to him
Rating: R
Warnings: Attempt of suicide, hostility, swearing, angst, possible character death, Gerard being whiny, Bert being mean
POV: Third, Bert-centered
Disclaimer: They are not mine, and as far I'm concerned, this never happened

The guardian, the lost and the fake

It was a lucky coincidence they were both in L.A. that night.

Or maybe it wasn’t.

Bert was drunk, but not too drunk. He had had a couple of beers after the gig at ‘The House Of Blues’, but he was sobering up quickly. It was not late, but it was certainly late to be receiving calls, and Bert had not gotten one of those midnight calls in so long.

When he got to his phone and saw the caller ID on the screen he thought that maybe the booze had made him delusional. Laughing to himself in the darkness of the hotel room, he pressed the button and glued the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey-- Bert! How are you man?” Brian’s voice was wrapped up in anxiety, shaky and high-pitched. It struck Bert as strange, since Brian was usually such a laid back kind of guy.

“I’m fine.” Bert answered hoarsely. “You?”

“I ah… I’m okay, I guess. So, hm, I heard you’re in L.A.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“I… Bert, man, I kinda need a favor.” Bert raised an eyebrow.

“Sure. What is it?”

“It’s… well… we’re in L.A. too. We, as in, My Ch-”

“I know what ‘we’ means, Bri.”

“Oh, okay. So, um… here’s the thing; Gerard locked himself in the bedroom and he’s threatening to kill himself. He won’t let anyone in.” Brian stumbled on his worlds. Bert’s breath hitched.

“…And I care because?”

“Bert, man, look, I know you guys have had your, y’know, issues, but still, he’s really fucked up, and I was thinking maybe you could help…”

“When is he not fucked up? When is he not trying to kill himself? Look, he probably just wants the attention.”

“Bert, it sounds really bad y’know?”

“How would I help? I mean, why me?”

“Please man, I’m desperate here. You’re the only one he respects. You’re the only one who’s not afraid of him.” Bert dragged a deep sigh.

“Can’t guarantee anything. I’m no lifeguard.”

“Is that a yes?”

“What hotel are you staying at?”

“Oh, oh. Thank you so much! Thank you! Man you don’t know how grateful I-”

“I got it, now just give me the goddamn address.”

***

Bert didn’t know what to do, what to say, when to say it…He was scared. He hadn’t seen Gerard in so long. He was afraid of seeing him shattered to pieces again. He was afraid of the power the image could have over him. The impact that could break through all the pain Gerard inflicted on him and make Bert care again. He was terrified because he knew Gerard was undeserving of anyone’s concern and still, he’d be lying if he said there was a day that went by when he didn’t think about everything they’d been through together, without him wondering where it all went wrong. All the things that Gerard made him feel… Brian was wrong. Gerard scared the shit out of him.

He put on a pair of jeans and jerkily pulled a jumper over his head, fumbling with his cigarette pack. He wasn’t totally sober; he should go get Quinn… Wait, no, not Quinn. Jepha, because Jepha was safe. He wouldn’t ask, wouldn’t preach. He’d just try to understand.

***

The drive was silent. Bert was chain smoking, but Jeph didn’t say a word, which kind of made him more anxious. He didn’t know what he’d find at the hotel; although rationally he knew that was just one of Gerard’s absurd drama shows, deep down there he couldn’t control the fear that made his loins twist up in knots. Gerard was always a lunatic; Bert could never completely sure of what he was going to do next.

“Dunno what Brian is expecting of me,” He muttered. Jepha looked at him. This was so stupid. Bert was no hero.

“You’re the only one that won’t try to save him,” his band mate said quietly.

***

When Bert got to the hotel, Brian went to get him down the lobby. He smacked Bert’s shoulder affectionately and smiled at him.

“So,” Bert asked trying to sound casual. “Where’s our man?”

“Gonna take you up to him,” the manager said, and Bert noticed he was paler than normal. He felt bad for him. He felt angry and annoyed at Gerard for creating this orbital system around him. The big star, and all the satellites depending of it. “The guys are freaking out. He’s been in there for over four hours. His wife is in England, on tour. Even if she wasn’t…well, dunno if it is such a good idea y’know. To tell her about this mess.”

Everybody was in the hall. He had expected glares from the band members but received none; maybe they were really desperate. He scanned the faces he hadn’t seen in so long and somewhere deep down in his core, a sensation similar to nostalgia crept up. Ray was knocking gently on the door, trying to talk to Gerard with his voice smooth, but didn’t get any answer. Bob was quite on the corner, his arms across his chest and his lip into his mouth. Frank had puffed eyes and looked fragile, as if he could restart crying at any moment. Mikey was walking from one side to the other, pulling at his hair.

They all looked up to Bert with their eyes bright with hope. It made Bert sick.

Brian pushed a card into his hand.

“He’s pretty unstable, man. So, umm, be careful, when Mikey tried to go in he freaked out.”

“Yeah, go slow,” Ray advised. Mikey looked at him as if he was going to say something. He opened his mouth, but gave up a second later. Bert nodded at them.

“I’ll see what I can do. No promises, though.” He pressed the key card to the slot.

“Sup, Gee?”

***

The room was a wrecking mess. Bert could tell that Gerard had thrown quite a fit; the wardrobe and nightstands drawers were all over, the sheets strewn across the floor, shredded toilet paper all around. Gerard was curled up in a ball in his pajamas by the big open window, his face red and wet. So different from the Gerard Way Bert had been seeing the past months in magazines, the oh-so-cool rock star. When Bert opened the door, his head snapped quickly towards it, his body inching closer to the window. But when he heard Bert’s voice, he stopped dead on his track, his jaw falling to the floor.

“So. How’s life?” Bert’s voice was cracked, because god, it had been so long, since the last time he’d seen Gerard, heard his voice, and now they were alone in the same room. That knowledge triggered a load of dangerous, tearing feelings inside him, his esophagus clenching and his stomach looping as if he were a teenager.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” Gerard said once he snapped out of his awe, cleaning his face harshly with his sleeve.

“Your friends decided it was a good time for a little visit.” Bert grinned.

“I’m gonna kill myself,” Gerard said with his voice moist.

“Oh, yeah? That’s too bad, man. There are like, tons of people that will be left all crushed if you do that.”

“Are you one of them?” Gerard turned his back on him. Bert shrugged, even if he couldn’t see the gesture. “There isn’t anybody that wants me here. Not the real me!” He yelped, and threw a glass ashtray at the wall. Bert winced at the loud noise it provoked, the shatters titling on their way to the floor. Then, he pulled himself together and rolled his eyes.

“That’s not true, dude. There are tons of people. Your band, your- what about your wife, huh? I mean, you must be thrilled, in hopes of a life in the woods with her, eh? And kids maybe? A cute little family? What about her?” Gerard shook his head violently at that, tears flying everywhere.

“No no no, don’t talk about her, it’ll be better this way. She deserves someone better,” He sobbed. “Way better than me.” Bert leaned against the wall.

“Well, in that, you’re right. Bet she didn’t know what she was letting herself in for when she said ‘I do’, huh? She’ll be trying to be with you, have a normal life, and you’ll just be whining the whole fucking time.”

“I don’t know what to do.” Tears streamed down Gerard’s too-beautiful face. He sobbed hard. “Sooner or later, I’ll disappoint her. Fuck, she really wants to be happy by my side, but look at this, she’ll never-” Bert raised a hand to stop him.

“Please, Gee. I’ve seen the pics, she seems cool, and she’s really damn fine, but I honestly don’t give a fuck about her.” The other swallowed audibly.

“I know,” Gerard whispered weakly.

“Yeah? Well, that’s new for me, because you always assume people are really interested in your life.”

“That’s… That’s not true. People keep saying these things about me, you keep saying them, it’s not true. I wish people would stop.” He pulled at his long hair and sobbed again. “I’m always so troubled, and-”

“Why are you so whiny?” Bert was rambling, to keep Gerard from drowning into the deep depths of his inner demons. “You got everything you always wanted, and more.”

“I’m a fake, though.”

“Yes, you are. You act like a little bitch ‘round here because people allow you to. I wonder how they put up with your shit. Your girl, your brother, your mom, Brian, the band…” Because all of them, they are too nice to have to nurse someone like Gerard all the time. “Fuck Gerard, and Frank? Dude, if it had been me that you had shoved to the floor in the middle of a show in front of millions of people, you’d be toothless by now.”

Gerard blinked a few times, and looked away.

“I know.”

“You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep acting like this Gerard. Jesus, you’re a grown adult now, you’re fucking married and all, soon you’re gonna like, have kids. But all you can do is keep moaning around like everybody should get involved and solve your problems for you!”

“That’s the problem!” Gerard screamed. “I tried, I tried to act like that, to be happy, but I can’t! I can’t!” He sobbed in hysteria. “I can’t do what people do, I have these shadows, these things, they swallow me, that’s why I wanna end it all, to free people from me!” Bert rolled his eyes again; he had heard it all before.

“Then do it. Quit the goddamn moaning and jump already. I swear I won’t try to stop you or anything. Brian called me here, but if that’s what you really want, go ahead, man. I’ll even have loads of fun with the little fan girls crying over you.” Gerard glared at him, twitchy, but stood still. “I knew it. You’re a fucking drama queen, Gerard. A freaking attention whore. Whoever want to kill themselves for real, don’t call other people, they just go for it, y’know?” Bert teased, knowing it’d get to him, but unable to stop himself from saying the words that had been caught in his throat for too long.

“Fuck you!” As if to prove himself, Gerard tiptoed and plumped himself up the narrow parapet of the large open window, the infinite sea of trembling lights sparkling down the city. Bert’s heartstrings stranded as he tensed up. Oh no no no, it’ll be all my fault…

Gerard looked at the landscape below him, and lifted a foot to jump off. He then stepped back, climbing off the parapet.

“I won’t do it,” He declared with his voice low, and then sighed.

Bert was sent into an angry frenzy. That motherfucker, always trying to gather attention, he was a fucking idiot. He strode to get to him, pulled him by his arm, his stomach bubbling with icy adrenaline as he spun him around and punched him square on the jaw. Gerard yelped in pain, and Bert gripped his shoulders to shake him.

“Of course you won’t, you little shit,” he spat wildly, yanking at Gerard’s trembling figure. “You’re pathetic.”

Gerard looked up to him with those wet eyelashes and those huge irises, the helplessness burning deep in his dark pupils. Bert felt a weird pang that he couldn’t quite describe, shooting up his spine and making his nerves fizzle and hissing as they burned to ashes. He hadn’t felt it in so long and he realized then he kind of missed the reflex Gerard’s intense gaze would always inflict him.

The older man started to cry pitifully, sobbing harshly and seeking solace. He buried his face in Bert’s shoulder, hoping for some sort of comfort. It caused Bert to panic for an instant, the warm feel of Gerard sobbing on his clothed chest, and he almost hugged him closer to soothe him, but no, that was not his role. Gerard had dismissed him of it a long, long time ago, and he was pretty categorical about it. So he threw him out of his embrace and onto a wall, as if Gerard was burning him. In a way, he was.

“Fuck you! You’ll stain my clothes with your shit!” He spat, and Gerard looked up to him from the floor, weak and grinning sadly.

“You really hate me, don’t you?” He asked miserable. Bert scratched the back of his head, uneasy.

“I wish I did,” he confessed, looking away from Gerard’s powerful stare.

“Then stay here with me,” Gerard asked, pleading.

“Don’t you see? You’re trying to be someone you’re not. Always working hard to be everything you aren’t. The day you stop doing that, I’ll stay with you.”

Gerard sighed, and Bert knew he understood what he meant. He waited for a couple of seconds more, but Gerard didn’t say another word. So he turned around and walked away with relief.

The minute he crossed the door, the men outside all looked up at him, hungry for answers.

“Go get him. He’s all weak and waiting for your stupid ass-kissing now.” And they all pushed past him in hurried desperation, greedy to get to Gerard and properly save him.

***

Bert felt odd as he slumped down on his bed many hours and beers later. He’d just wished Gerard didn’t get to him so much.

He was troubled, tormented by the encounter with someone that once meant some much to him, but now only caused him disgust and anger. But he also felt at peace, because he did what Brian had asked him, and what he asked himself, to do; Gerard was safe now. And that was good, that was great, because Gerard might be a goddamn waste of oxygen, but still Bert couldn’t stand the idea of going to bed at night knowing the two of them didn’t share the same world anymore.

THE END

comments? please?

And the eternity - Continuation

2008-06-01T19:34:09Z

(...)

"When did life become so complicated?"

“I have no idea.”

He massaged his eyes over his lids with the heel of his hands. Then, the intercom buzzed. I tried to shake myself out of the bitter feeling that both phone calls had left me with and got up from the bed, pushing the button of the intercom Gerard had on his bedroom wall. “Yeah?”

“Pizzeria!”

“Coming!” I replied and removed my finger from the button, turning to see the love of my life suddenly looking worried and tired. I felt my chest ache at the sight of him. I knew how he was feeling and I couldn’t bare to see the sadness in his eyes. “Still want me to put clothes on and pay for the pizza or do you want me to try to get it for free?” I asked, getting closer to him with a small smile, attempting to get him out of his guilty thoughts.

"Don't be such a slut and cover yourself," he joked.

“Ok, ok... I was kidding anyway... I’m all yours,” I said and gave him a peck on the lips before going downstairs and putting on my jeans and shirt, which were discarded on the floor where we had left them. I also picked up money from Gerard’s jeans and got to the door.

The delivery boy looked amused at my appearance, the supposedly ‘super-dooper-mega-sexy Frank Iero’ no doubt sporting extreme sex hair and swollen lips, but after signing one of the pizza menus for him and paying for the food, he left staring at the autograph in awe, no longer paying attention to anything else. I smiled at his retreating back for a moment before picking up some paper napkins and two glasses and plates from the kitchen and heading upstairs, where the love of my life was waiting impatiently. We both sat on the floor, like the old times, and opened the box up.

“Hey, by the way, where’s your dog?” I asked, a little intrigued “He usually pounces on me as soon as I walk through the door.”

“Huh? Oh, Frankie?... he’s at this dog hotel. They take care of him while I’m on tour,” he said distractedly.

“Oh... still can’t believe you gave him my name, seriously.”

"Well, it was named after you. It’s a good name for a dog, huh?" He teased.

“Hey! I do not have a dog name, thank-you very much grandpa,” I pouted.

"Sure you do. And you even nuzzle me with your nose when you want something."

“Well, at least dogs are cute...”

"Yes. And you’re cute, too, hun. Now I'll have two cute Frankies."

“I’m not cute.”

"Yes, you are."

“You’re cuter.” I smiled “Anyway, I’m starving. If we don’t eat now, I might eat you.”

He laughed adorably. "Okay, okay. Though I'm sure I wouldn’t mind, you know."

“What, for me to eat you?” I asked confused.

"Yup."

“Uhh….Why?”

“Because silly, I have a serious biting fetish. And you know that.”

“Oh! Yeah, right.”

"Mm, tastes nice. Smells nice too."

“The smell brings back old memories doesn’t it?” I said, grabbing a slice with my bare hands and taking a large bite.

"So many." He took a bite himself. "Wipe your hands on my clean sheets and I'll chop them off."

“Hey, if we’re gonna do this like the old times, I’m afraid I’ll have too... even if your sheets are now made of silk and not cotton,” I joked.

"I was expecting you'd grow a little cleaner with the years."

“But I am clean! Remember when we were on tour with the bus a couple of years ago, and we went without having a shower for days? Well, I used to be the cleanest one back then. Remember when we even asked `Worm who was the least smelly and he said me? You can’t say I’m not clean, buddy,” I protested.

"Frankie, gross. And watch your greasy fingers, seriously. We're gonna sleep in those sheets tonight."

“Yeah, well... if we not only sleep, they’re gonna end up stained anyway...”

"Not with pizza topping." I loved bitching him.

“Alright, alright... no pizza topping in your silk sheets. Got it,” I said defeated, eating my slice.

"Good boy." He smiled before resuming his eating.

After we finished the lovely dinner, we took all the napkins and the box and threw them in the trashcan on the second floor hall, going back to the bedroom, but leaving the dirty dishes around because neither of us wanted to take them back to the kitchen. I was really tired, and I could see Gerard was too, as he kept yawning every minute, making it contagious.

“Hmm... God, I’m all dirty under my clothes,” I said, undoing my shirt and looking at my stomach, seeing the product of our previous activities drying on my skin.

"Wanna take a shower? And not use my shampoo?"

“Hm...under one condition,” I said, grinning mischievously. “If you come with me.”

"Nah... I'm really tired, I'll take a shower in the morning, I'm gonna sleep already."

“Aww... c’mon, oldie,” I whined, crawling to his side “Let’s go shower... you and me, under the spray, naked... don’t you like the idea?” I said, purring in his ear, biting his earlobe teasingly.

"I'll pass for tonight baby. Sorry."

“...ok. I’m going to the shower then. Alone” I mumbled, a little dissapointedly. I stood up and walked towards the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Why he didn’t want to come with me? Was he really that tired? I removed my dirty clothes and left them on the floor, stepping into the big shower cubicle and turning it on. Was it because of her? Maybe he had changed his mind after the phone talk with her? Maybe. I hoped not. But still... in the past, he would have never said no to this. I mean, not that he’d never rejected me... but he had never said no. ‘I told you, Frank...’

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” I murmured to myself. Just then I remembered I had forgotten to bring my bag upstairs, so I couldn’t change clothes when I stepped out.

“Gerard, before you go to sleep, could you please grab my bag for me? I left it downstairs...” I said in a loud voice so he could hear me through the door.

"Mmhmmm," I heard him say from the bedroom. I looked at his oh so expensive shampoo on the shelf and smirked. Since he had been a total prick with me, I was going to do the same. Eye for an eye. I wet my hair really well and raised my hand to take the bottle from the shelf.

"I thought I told you not to use my shampoo, you jerk," someone said from behind. "And you really believed I'd miss a shower with you?"

I turned to watch him, stepping under the water next to me. The cubicle didn’t seem that big then. I looked up at him and smirked. I knew it had to be a joke.

“I was going to take my revenge for the rejection,” I said, putting the bottle back in its place.

"Oh so that’s how it works, then?" He laughed, before bringing our bodies together under the hot spray. I didn’t put any resistance at all.

“Maybe... but aside from that, I actually don’t see any other shampoo for me to use,” I said, almost changing the subject on purpose, playing hard to get with my attitude. Even if it was a joke, he rejected me first. So, yeah, he was going to pay for it.

"You can use mine. With moderation, please."

“My hair’s longer than yours,” I said.

"Then I'll wash it for you, to make sure that you won't use it all."

“I don’t know...” I said, looking around for a moment before grabbing the soap. “Can I use this soap? Or it’s worth 150 dollars too?”

"160." Then he giggled. "C'mon, you don't want me to wash your hair?"

“You just want to do it to make sure I don’t use too much of your precious shampoo,” I muttered, starting to rub my torso with the soap softly, removing the dried come from it.

"Stop being so stubborn," he said, his breath hot and damp on my ear. "And kiss me."

“You kiss me,” I insisted, childishly, turning back to look at him, our faces inches apart.

"Deal," he whispered, before sucking my lower lip into his mouth. It was hot, because we were just under the spray, and his arms wrapped themselves around my slick torso, bringing me closer. I gave in once again, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him back, my tongue sliding and rubbing his bottom lip suggestively. This was really, really hot. I had always liked showering with him. And it had been quite a long time since the last time we did it. His hands slid down to my hipbones and he started to nibble my ear.

"Can I wash you clean?"

“Of course. Don’t miss a single spot...” I said back, sighing.

"I won't," he breathed, before getting the soap bar from my hands and running it down my body, rubbing softly. I just let him do as he pleased, as I stood under the spray with my eyes closed, relaxing. I wasn’t a teenager anymore, so even if his caresses and rubs felt really good, I couldn’t get hard again. Or at least, that’s what I thought. He was trying to, obviously, as he made the soap bar roam over my nipples with a little pressure, and then slid it down to my stomach, scrubbing to clean the skin, and running it over my hips and my ass, as his lips caressed my neck. The spray was falling on my chest and massaging my scalp, and I couldn't believe this incredibly sweet person had tried to rape me some hours before. I let out a whimper as his hands went down my ass, my hands positioning on his shoulders, squeezing them a little, massaging them. I loved this, for sure. And I loved him. More than anything else in the fucking world.

"I love you," He whispered in between his love bites and ran his hands to massage my shoulders and my armpits, making me chuckle. "Ticklish?" He then asked playfully.

I giggled in response before whispering,

“Yeah… but like it…” He was so sweet.

He giggled a little before finishing the rising and putting the soap bar back on the shelf. "Will you turn around for me, please?".

“For you, anything,” I answered, doing as he asked. How could I say no?

I smelled the scent of his shampoo. I loved that smell, because it was his smell, and reminded me of the times we'd cuddle into his bunk to sleep together, and he'd snore all night from being too drunk. A cool substance was smeared on the top of my head and he started to massage my scalp really slowly. It felt so good. I let out a really low moan, being incapable of containing it. I guess I was just enjoying it way too much, but I couldn’t help it. I loved the way his gentle fingers felt in my hair.

“Smells nice...” I commented lowly with my eyes still closed, putting my hands in the wall to avoid relaxing too much and falling. My legs felt like jelly.

"Well, it has to, considering the price. Funny huh? Your hair being longer than mine," He commented. His fingertips applied just the right pressure.

“Huh?...” I asked him confused, not listening to him properly. “Oh... y-yeah... it used to be the other way...”

"Yeah. I miss my old hair. Remember when I cut it short? I'd always go to play with it and bam, it wasn't there. It was so weird."

“Yeah…” I was still little absent, although he didn’t seem to notice. “I like your hair now... suits you.”

"Yeah? I like it longer better. Makes me thinner. I like you with long hair too. It’s sexy on you. C'mon, turn around again, let's rinse it." I did as he told me, really slowly as I was afraid of slipping and falling, my state not helping at all. When I did, I heard him giggling, so I opened my eyes just to look at him, looking down. I followed his vision line and I found myself, semi-hard. ‘Oh, shit...’

"Where do you get all this stamina from?" He laughed. "Seriously, Frank. You're such a teenager."

"I can’t help it,” I said, blushing considerably. “Veggie lifestyle, I guess. You made it happen, anyway...” I said, grinning a little. I guess I still had a bit of a teenager left inside me.

"You make my fucked-up sex drive envious," He sighed before rinsing the shampoo off and shoving his tongue down my throat with no warning. I was surprised, not being able to do more than respond as best as I could, my hands looking for his body. Thanks to his fast movement, I leaned on the wall, pressing my back against the cold tiles, making a lovely and pretty enjoyable contrast with the hot water and him. He kept kissing me, aggressively, and his hands made their way down to my groin, grasping my base with a firm grip, making me let out a moan inside his mouth.

“G-god, Gerard...” I mumbled against his lips, my hands roaming on his own body, groping his ass and squeezing it slightly, rubbing his hips against mine.

"Yeah?" He teased, moving his thumb and index finger to slide on either side of my member. My hands went up to his body and positioned on his shoulders again, this time to press them down a bit, almost unconscious of the gesture. I wanted him to do it, to take the hint my body was trying to give him, to communicate to him in the form of actions, rubs and the whimpers my lips let out.

“P-please...” I said, still pressing his shoulders with my hands, a little shaky. He apparently got the hint, since he placed a little peck on my lips and went down to his knees, looking up to me and winking before sucking my tip into his mouth. “Y-yeah... exactly like that...” I said, my body getting a little bit tense from the pleasure my body was receiving. I tried to keep my eyes open, to watch him. I loved doing that. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked really hard, his hands moving to grasp my ass, his eyes never leaving mine. I couldn’t keep the stare anymore, as I threw my head back against the tiles, my hands finding their way to his wet hair, caressing his face at the same time, somewhat guiding his movements, as I kept moaning louder and louder. He was good at this. Not as good as I was, I might add. Not that I had ever sucked my own dick but well... I was just better. I looked down again only to find his eyes on mine. “Y-you’re good at t-this, you know?...” I commented between moans.

"Mmhmm," He hummed around me, making my knees go weak. He kept sucking the best way possible and I gripped his shoulders with more and more force, until he stopped. I looked down to see him opening his mouth and starting to jack me off. I let out a deep moan as I couldn’t hold on anymore and finally came inside and around his mouth, trying with all my might to keep my eyes open to look at him. The image was pure bliss.

"Mmm," He murmured once he was up, cleaning the sides of his mouth. "Bet you're tired now, huh?"

“You bet...” I said, sighing. “But I owe you a massage... so... turn around, baby...”

"Oh,” He smiled. "Sweet." He turned, pressing his hands against the glass door, the water running down his flawless skin. I took a couple of seconds to admire him, and then I got closer to start rubbing my hands on his back, slowly at first, using a little bit of soap on the skin and make it a little bit slippery, helping the friction.

“I love you, Gee,” I said, getting closer to his ear, massaging his shoulders. “So, so much. You’re amazing.”

"Mmm..." He mumbled. "So are you." He was really tense under my fingers. No wonder he asked for the massage in the first place. I stroked his shoulders and gripped firmly on them, trying to soften his muscles with my hands. I bet both those phone calls worked up all this tension.

“You’re so tense... relax, baby. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here with you,” I whispered, biting his earlobe while working on some knots on his neck.

"Y-yeah..." I could hear his voice was slightly broken.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, keeping the pace.

"I'm tired of being alone." He whispered, almost inaudibly, more to himself.

“You’re not alone anymore, Gee. I’m here, ok? And I will be forever.”

I saw him nod.

“Do you believe me when I say that?”

"Yeah... Yes I do." He turned around, and smiled at me. "Thanks for the massage”

“You’re welcome. Thank you for the….well…you know.” I smiled bashfully.

"Nah, you know I'm a cock-sucking whore.” He giggled loudly.

“Well, yeah, but you’re really good at it, you know?” I smirked.

"Well, I'm learning from the best."

“Really? Who is it?” I asked, faking innocence.

"You, stupid," He joked before getting the soap bar to clean himself.

“Well, thank you. Lemme help you...” I said, taking the sponge to rub the parts where he applied the soap.

After helping him clean his body, we both rinsed to remove all the soap, and turned off the water, stepping out the shower and taking some towels to dry ourselves.

"It's cold," He commented, wrapped a fluffy towel around himself. I did the same with one of the towels that were left.

“Yeah, it is... let’s go to bed, Gee?... I’m really tired now...”

"Yeah, let's. But first, you take the things to the kitchen. I blew you, so I have the right to stay in bed."

“Do I have to?” I whined with pleading eyes, but he wasn’t joking. “Ok, I guess it’s fair... but hey, I blew you before and didn’t get anything for it.”

"Yeah well... I fucked you so..."

“So?” I arched an eyebrow “You wanted to fuck me too... If I fucked you instead, that would be something?”

"But I used more energy. And you're younger. And I'm telling you to, now c'mon."

“Oh, now you’re an oldie again... I’m gonna do it anyway, but just because you won’t, and I don’t want to sleep with pizza smell in the bedroom.”

"That's why I love you."

When I came back, he was already sleeping, with only his towel on and over the sheets, with the lamps on. I guess he really was tired. I got closer to him carefully, trying not to wake him up, and laid on the other side of the bed, next to him.

“Baby... take off your towel and get into the bed, at least,” I said to him after kissing his cheek to wake him up.

"Mm?" I smiled. He was utterly adorable.

“Lemme help you,” I said, removing his towel from his waist and tossing it to the floor with mine. “Get under the covers, Gee. It’s cold and you’re covered with goosebumps.”

"Mmhmm," he mumbled, crawling under the duvet and closing his eyes the minute his face hit the pillow. I looked at him and got closer, hugging him and preparing myself to go to sleep.

That had been the longest day of my life, and I had experienced all the feelings a human being possibly could, in less than 24 hours. I didn’t have to worry anymore, though. I was next to him, now, next to my real one, next to the other pieces that completed my puzzle. And I knew, for sure, things would be great from now on.

He snuggled in to me and hugged me tight, whispering, slurred, into my ear; "The puzzle is complete now."

I smiled to myself, closing my eyes. It certainly was.

THE END

so, any comments? please please? (:

And the eternity - Continuation

2008-06-01T19:31:12Z

(...)

He smiled again before positioning himself over my entrance and pushing in, slowly, his lips parting as his expression dropped to ecstasy. I let out a long hiss, feeling him entering in me, going deeper, every curve of his body coinciding exactly with mine.

I loved it. Loved the feeling of him being close to me, being like this with him, being with the one I was made for. Being with the other pieces of this huge puzzle that was our existence.

"Now I'm whole." He breathed out. "I'm complete."

“I’m complete too, Gerard,” I breathed, a small tear running down my left cheek. “Please, don’t ever let me go. Not again.”

"I won't. I promise."

“Ok...” I mumbled before abandoning myself to the new torrent of sensations I was feeling at that moment. He started to move very slowly, going deep and hard inside me. There was almost no pain at all, thanks to his careful preparation.

He bit his lip, looking right into my eyes before moaning hoarsely.

"I forgot how good this is," he panted. "How tight you are."

“I also forgot how good this is, Gee. How big you are...” I let out a deep moan, feeling every inch of his body was slipping in and out of me, an amazing sensation almost forgotten long ago. “God, you’re so good at this...”

"You make me good at this," he said, strangled, before setting a slow pounding pace, shoving me deeper into the couch. I grabbed myself steadily, trying to compass his movements from my position, moaning and whimpering every time he moved.

“R-really? ah... how come?....”

"Because I love to make you moan for me," he groaned. "Moan for me, Frankie, please..." He grabbed my thigh pushing it higher up on his hip, his fingers digging into the skin. I let out a strangled moan and dug my nails into his skin when a particular spot inside me was nudged, every thrust getting deeper and faster and harder and perfect.

“Gee!! God... d-do that again!!” I said, sounding way more vulgar than I normally would’ve liked. I couldn’t help it, anyway. At least he liked it.

"Anything to hear you like this," he growled, striking my spot again, making me almost scream in pleasure. I wrapped my leg harder around his hip, bringing him impossibly close to me, running my lips along his neck, kissing and biting the soft white skin there.

“Gee... tell me you’re mine....” I whispered into his ear between moans. He opened his eyes at me, buzzing with intensity as he stared deep inside my soul.

"H-Have always been, will always be." He said with difficulty. "I promise."

“I love you,” was my only verbal answer to that, apart from the exclamations and whimpers and sighs. Every little sound and move I was making at that moment proved to him my words were just as truthful as his.

His hand slid down on my chest, caressing my stomach and lower, his palm finally resting on the place where our bodies were so perfectly connecting. I looked at him.

“S-Something... ah... wrong?”

"No... I just need to feel... that this is happening... that we’re one…that we’re together," He said through sharp intakes of air.

“It is happening…” I mumbled, my hand resting on his cheek as I kissed him deeply on the lips, suctioning his lower lip and biting on it softly. It was real. So real. He lifted his hands and wrapped his arms around me, making our chests rub as he continued his pounding, now slower and more erratic. I felt so right, so safe in his arms. I didn't want to think ever again. Just feel .

"I need to hear you. Frankie, please..." He begged into my ear, his voice so needy it gave me chills. And I wanted to please him. I needed to please him.

“Gee...” I moaned loudly when I felt him striking that particular place again, grabbing on to his arms tightly. “Gee... ah!, h-harder... please, harder...”

"I want to stay inside of you forever," he whispered more to himself than me, clasping at my middle and apparently willing our bodies to melt together. Maybe that’s what I was willing too. I was bucking my hips up and down, copying his movements to make it better, not only for me but for him. I whispered his name in between moans and whimpers, breathing hot air on his ear. In that moment I knew that I didn’t need anyone or anything else in the world. Not Jamia, not the band. Just him.

He was striking my spot every time; however he didn't make any move to touch me. And I needed it.

“Ah! Gee... t-touch me... please...” I cried desperately.

"Not yet," he whispered and kissed below my ear.

“P-please...” I asked again, one of my hands sliding from his neck to the place where I was craving the most. I needed it. I needed it right then.

"Wait a little more baby, please..." He growled, apparently afraid of opening his mouth too widely and grabbing my hand to pin against his chest. He got my spot once again. "Is it here?" He asked and it startled me that his mouth was practically going inside my ear.

“Ah!! y-yes!” I almost screamed.

"Do you feel me?" Sometimes his habit of never shutting his mouth became handy. "Do you feel how all of our parts are connected, like I do?" he made my hand slide across his chest, until the spot of his heart. "Here." He attacked my prostate once more. "And here?"

I moaned pretty loudly again, arching my back slightly in pleasure.

“I-I do” I managed to say, looking at his eyes filled with lust and love, bucking my hips once more a little bit higher than before. “And you?... do you feel me, Gee?”

"Yeah I do." He was biting on his lip so hard I could see blood. He had blood everywhere, actually. "God... I can feel every single inch of you... Baby... You're so tight, you're so fucking good, so fucking pretty . I want to... Ah, fuck! I want to breathe you, I want to invade you, I want to fucking drown in you... Frankie, fuck... goddamn, I love you so much."

I pressed my lips against his, my tongue darting out to lick him, part his lips, kissing him softly, tasting the red liquid. I had a thing for blood, a really weird fetish. I couldn’t stop myself from doing it; licking it, savoring it.

“I love you...” I whispered against his lips, feeling my whole body tremble “I’m yours, Gee. I-I always was... and always will be...”

I could feel his entire body trembling as he clung to me.

"Keep talking," he begged, and hit the special place inside me again, making me arch my back again, throwing my head back for a brief moment.

“G-god, please... Gee... t-touch me... I need it...” I moaned.

"Uh huh..." He growled, his voice as husky as ever, sneaking his hand down to fondle my balls. I kept moaning, raising my voice every minute it passed as he started to hit my spot dead on with every thrust. I was feeling myself getting closer.

“Th-that’s it... keep going...don’t stop” I mumbled.

"I don't want this to end..." he dry-sobbed, moving his hand from my balls to my member, and squeezing it. I could feel myself leaking shamefully in his hands. I was really close.

“Neither do I... b-but it hurts....” I cried, burying my face in the crook of his neck, moaning deeply against his skin.

He grabbed me with a firm grip, finally stoking up and down. "I can't h-hold baby..."

“I’m a-almost there, Gee... w-wait for me, please...” I whimpered, biting his neck and sucking the abused skin there, nearly drawing blood. I didn’t want to hurt him, but it was just too much. I could feel myself on the edge, just a little more and I’d be right there.

Then he thrust hard hard hard deep, right into my fucking spot, moaning wildly, and not moving his hips at all. I though I was going to die. I threw my head back, slamming my eyes closed as I arched my back again in an almost impossible angle, letting out a scream and long moan as I felt myself crossing the line of pleasure, coming really hard in his hand and between us.

I could feel his obscene breath on my face, and his face contorted in an expression of intensity. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, Frankie, I fucking love you," he exclaimed as I felt his come jetting inside me, moaning at the same time. He pulled out after a few seconds, and I felt myself suddenly empty.

We kept breathing heavily for a few moments, just lying in the same position.
“I love you too...” I said once I regained my breath.

He just kissed my forehead tenderly, before hugging me. I know he was trying avoiding talking to me, but we needed to.

“Gee... don’t you think w-we kinda.... need to talk?” I asked, letting myself be hugged. He shook his head in a stubborn, immature way. “C’mon...” I insisted.

He sighed deeply. "Wanna go to bed, then? I feel like I'm gonna pass out at any minute and this couch is uncomfortable.”

“As long as I’m with you and we can talk, we could go to the fucking moon for all I care,” I said, kissing him softly.

He giggled a little, and then we stood up and went to his oh-so-fancy bedroom.
It was so, so different from his old basement bedroom back at his old house; that messy room full of things and with weird stuffed animals everywhere you looked. It as a very sober and sophisticated room, as if he was trying to prove to everyone that he had grown up; all in black, white and red.

The floor was of lightwood and the walls were painted white. There was a comfortable armchair in black leather in one side. The furniture was all black and white too, the wardrobe and his desk, on which a glass sat on top of the pages of the first Umbrella Academy comic book. His bed was large, with a short white bedpost, a black comforter and a lot of red cushions. On the wall behind it, there was a vertical bright lamp and right under it, a frame that his grandmother had done with a piece of old wallpaper, that was black and white, and really pretty. There were identical red lamps on both nightstands, and some pictures of the band, of Gerard, of his dog and Mikey on his side, but the other, was still empty. The curtains were red and long, and hid a glass door to the balcony. On the right, there was a door to the bathroom. I sighed as I stepped in.

“Hot in here, huh?” He asked, before opening the glass doors a little and keeping the curtains shut, and then got the comforter and put it over the armchair, climbing into the bed and arranging the white sheets before petting a spot next to him and making me smile.

I followed him, lying down and supporting myself on his frame. I put my head on his chest, his arms wrapped around me.

“Comfortable now?” I asked

"Nah," he said, smiling childishly and grabbing my hand to put it on top of his head. I knew what he wanted, to caress his hair like he always asked. I smiled, starting to stroke his head with my digits, massaging it softly and caressing his shiny and soft hair, pleasing him.

“You’re gonna fall asleep if I keep doing this, though... and we won’t talk as I wanted...”

"Mmm..." He made a soft grunting noise and pouted.

“You’re such a kid sometimes... but I love it,” I said, pecking his pout. There was a long pause and I was sure he was almost asleep when I finally worked up some courage and said, “Tell me, baby, what’re we going to do?”

"I don't know," he whispered in reply after a silent moment of thought. I know he liked being spoiled, and I liked spoiling him, but we needed to figure things out. The idea of leaving this and going back to the way we were before after the afternoon we spent was killing me.

“Do you... want us to be together, as you said before?” I looked at him, trying to find an answer in his eyes before he opened his mouth, but I couldn’t.

He glued his forehead to mine. ‘Oh please, don't do this, not again...’ My heart was racing, aching, with the possibility of being rejected again, and I began to feel used. He caressed the side of my face.

"Frankie, I love you. I really do. But..."

“Don’t,” I said, pulling back and looking elsewhere so he couldn’t see my eyes watering. “Don’t say anything. If you’re gonna say we can’t do this, that you love her more than me, that she’s more important to you, then don’t say anything. I don’t wanna hear it.” How could he? Was it possible that he just wanted to fuck me and that’s it?

‘Wake up, Frank! You knew it would be like that’. I’d actually had real hopes that it wouldn’t.

"It's not like that. Please, just listen to me," he begged. "I’ve missed you around here... lying to Jamia that you had to work on a song with me just so you could stay the whole night and using all my 300 hundred dollar shampoo when I specifically told you not to and burning pancakes for me." He laughed a little. "It's not what we have, when I'm with her." He sighed. "Remember when we used to call for a vegan pizza and talk about the future? When the band is over? When we used to talk about having kids and raising them, and telling them all our adventures? I still want that, Frankie. I want to have kids, and a family. Plus, I know you don't like Lyn, but... She's really fucking amazing. And it's not fair to break her heart like this. I told her I didn't want anyone else in my life ever again and here I am, with you. I can't just... abandon her, baby. Try to understand."

“You see my point now? Now that you’re with someone you care too much about, see my point? See why it was so difficult for me to leave Jamia? She is to me what Lindsey is to you, Gerard. Ok, yeah, with the difference that you like my girl and I don’t like yours, but still. I love you, Gerard. I meant every little thing I said a few minutes ago. I meant all of it, everything. Does that mean anything to you? What just happened, did it mean something for you, more than just a good fuck and a blowjob?”

"Frankie, c'mon.... You know it meant... it meant everything, but we gotta be rational."

“Rational? Am I hearing you properly? I’m the one being rational here. This is why you didn’t want to talk? I can’t believe this. Seriously. What else do you need to do to see the truth? If you really meant all the things you said back there, then you really love me. And, I don’t know about you, but when two individuals love each other, they actually want to be together, no matter what. I do love you, and I do want us to be together, but it seems like I’m the only one who feels that way,” I said, taking a sitting position in the bed and moving to the edge to stand up.

"Frankie, don't go away..." He sighed exasperated. "I love you, and I want to be with you, you know that."

“You don’t want to be with me, you just said it.” I got up from the bed and took my boxers that were on the floor and started putting them on. I was lucky I brought them with me when we moved to bed. “I’m such a fool, I knew this would happen in the end. You would go back to her, after all the things we said to each other. It was during sex, after all. It didn’t matter.”

"Frankie, please. Don't fight with me anymore; don't say bad things about me anymore. Please." His eyes were watering. "I can't take it when you're being like this, saying such harsh things to me. It’s not fair, Frank."

Once I finished putting my underwear, I looked at him and sighed.

“You’re the same to me, Gerard... why do you push me away? Can’t you see I love you and I wanna be with you, no matter what? What, do you think I like arguing with you? You think that I enjoy you fucking me and then taking back all the things you said in order to do so?”

"I'm not like that." He said, turning to fumble inside his drawer, fishing out a pack of cigs and his silver zippo flicking it to lighten the stick. "I don't say things like that as pick-up lines to get sex. Please, just talk to me. I want to be with you. But you need to... Do you want to have a family? Do you want to spend the rest of your life with me, like she promised to do so?"

“Of course I do. I do. I mean it. I don’t care about anything else, Gerard. Don’t you want the same? Don’t you want to spend the rest of your life with me? Grow old together? Maybe adopt a kid?”

"How?"

“We could say that I’m married to Jamia and then adopt it. You can say you’re married to Lindsey and adopt it; my mom could even go and adopt it so we could raise it. It’s not impossible. But first, you gotta ask yourself if you really want that.” He was silent for a long time.

"That’s what I want." He breathed out. "Just... give me one week, okay? So I can talk to Lyn. It's all I ask."

“You promise?” I asked, doubting. “I don’t want you to say things and then take them back anymore… don’t do this to me if you really don’t want it or if you’re not sure.”

"I've been always sure. When I married her... the one I really wanted to be marrying was you." He confessed, looking away. "Now... shut the curtains, and come sleep with me?"

I sighed, and I did as he told me, getting inside the bed next to him, but not getting too much closer. I was testing him, trying to figure if he had meant what he said or not.

"Fuck it." I heard him mutter, before looking at me. "Frank, c'mon. I fucking love you. I'm sorry if I'm not always secure or anything. But I really fucking need you, being away from you makes me so miserable. I promise I'll talk to her, then you talk to Jamia. And then we can be together. Please."

“Are you saying that because I wanna hear it... or because you feel that way?” I said, looking him in the eyes, getting slightly closer, still afraid of getting a ‘I’m doing this so you can shut up already’ type of answer.

"I'm saying this because I love you and it hurts really bad when you treat me like this."

I sighed and finally got closer to him, wrapping my arms around his torso, burying my face on his chest.

“Please, don’t ever leave me, Gerard. I’m sorry for being like this. I just... I’m afraid of you preferring her and not me,” I confessed, tears running freely down my cheeks.

"That's not true, Frankie. It just isn't."

“I’m sorry I can’t give you biological kids...” I murmured after a few seconds, more to myself than for him.

"Don't be retarded," He said, kissing my cheek.

“I’m being serious... I’m so sorry. I’ll try to make you forget about that detail, making you as happy as possible.”

Gerard scratched the dry blood under his nose, which was apparently itchy. "You already do, by telling me you really want to be with me."

“You’re so sweet,” I gave him a little peck on the lips and whipped my tears away “Hey, baby, let’s clean the mess on your face now... dried blood can be a pain in the ass. Ok?”

"Okay."

I got up from the bed once again and went to the bathroom that was in his room, the bigger in the house. I walked towards the cabinet near the mirror and opened it to look for some anti-septic and lint and went back to the room with both things in my hands. I smiled at him as I walked towards his direction in the bed and with an evil grin, put the things on his nightstand momentarily before crawling on the bed and sitting on his hips, straddling him and taking the medicines. I took my time and unscrewed the cap of the anti-septic and put some on my fingers, spreading it softly and slowly, caressing him, on his bruised skin. I always loved teasing him and doing that kind of things, even though we had just had sex. I didn’t care. He hissed.

"It stings." He complained, turning away from me and pouting.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t be a baby... you bought this in the first place,” I said, trying to make him look at me.

"But it hurts," he whined. It always made me wonder; the way he cut or claw at his skin himself and hurt his own body in all the ways possible without flinching, but always being so sassy when other people touched him.

“You always do damage to yourself and you don’t even whine about it. C’mon, Gee... lemme cure you... please?” I said, spreading more of the cream on his nose, my fingers playing with the forms and contours of it. “God, I love your nose, it’s so cute...” He made his bunny face at me, and I couldn’t contain a small giggle. He was just too cute for his own good. I finished spreading the cream and cleaned the rests with the lint, applying a little thin layer of the disinfectant to his skin, for mere prevention. “There you go...”

"Still hurts, Frankie..." He pouted again. I guess Lindsey never knew this side of his personality. It was always arrogantly coquettish or head over heels idiot around her. Not the real Gerard. The real one was never with her. And I was happy about that, as cruel and selfish as it may sound. He was all mine.

“Really? Hmm... let’s see what I can do about it...” I played along, getting closer to his face and kissing the tip of his nose softly in order to not make him wince in real pain.
His hands run up my sides, and he forced me to lie on his chest, caressing my back.

We both sighed softly and relaxed into the embrace, enjoying the sensation of being entirely wrapped up in one another. I closed my eyes and listened to the gentle thud of his heart beat, reverberating in my ear.

"Sometimes I get so afraid. That I'll be alone. Like I was before," He murmured quietly after a long silence, quite unexpectedly. I looked back at him and caressed his hair with one of my hands, trying to comfort him.

“You won’t, Gee. I am, and will always be, here for you. Now and forever.”

"Why do we always have to be so overdramatic before we can get to this point?" I giggled against his chest. He was right, we so were.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because we’re pretty different from each other. Maybe because we love each other just too much”

"I like option B best," he stated. "Want to get something to eat? Maybe we could call and ask for something."

“Hmm… veggie pizza?”

"I'm on a diet!" He exclaimed, all offended.

“Well, you’re going to quit it right now. I like you pudgy better,” I said.

"You're the only one who does. I can see why..." He joked, squeezing the little 'extra baggage' I had around my waist.

“Hey!! Are you saying I’m fat?”

"I'm saying you're hot."

“Yeah? Honestly? You don’t think I’m fat?” I asked.

"Well, I'm not the skinniest person in the world myself, so... I can't really talk about that. But to me you're perfect."

“Thank you, baby. You’re perfect to me too,” I smiled and grinned a little “And pretty hot.”

"I know, right?" He teased. "We should ask for the food." He rubbed his eye. "I'm so sleepy."

“You’re tired, oldie? Want me to bring you your medicine?” I grinned.

"What is it?"

“I don’t know… All I can think of is abstinence. I mean, maybe you’re not able to have sex… it may cause you a heart attack.”

"Don't be a pain in the ass," he said, shoving me out of his lap and crossing his arms.

“Hey! c’mon, it was a joke, baby...” I said, getting into the bed and closer to him again; my arms sneaking around his body, touching his sides and getting closer to his ear, purring “You were pretty good you know... and I bet we could have a second round...?”

"You're just using me for sex, huh? I might remind you that inside all this beauty there's a heart."

“I know... it was a joke, I’m sorry... and I’m not using you for sex, who told you that? You really feel that way?” I pulled away a little so I could look at him properly, a little concerned this time.

"No, you’re just too gullible for your own good." He punched me on the shoulder and laughed. "Frankie... but seriously now. Promise me you'll sleep in my arms every night? Because... that's the best part right? Right?"

“Ouch!” I yelped in pain. “Hey, if we didn’t sleep in each other’s arms every night, then we would just be going on with our lives as before and only have sex in a dirty bathroom, really quickly to prevent somebody finding out. And believe me, I really, really don’t want that.”

"You know, right? That... remember that talk we had, back in Ohio? What, three years ago?" I thought for a couple of seconds, until I figured what he was talking about. How could I forget about it anyway?

We were on tour, we had just released Revenge. After a gig, we were going to a bar, to party as usual, but we couldn’t find Gerard. We looked everywhere, until I found him in the parking lot of a gasoline station close to the venue, totally wasted. I had called the others to tell them that I found him but we were going to chat, so they could go. I picked him up and took him to the bathroom to wash his face. We then went back to the bus and, trying to make him come down, we drank some coffee and had one of those really long and deep conversations, where he explained almost everything, from his depression and fears of being alone, his none-existent self-esteem to what he felt for me on that moment.

“Uh… yeah, I do. What about it? Are you... still feeling that way?”

He just nodded, and I sighed. The cocky and arrogant Gerard Way disappeared, apparently. And for good.

“Baby... listen. First of all, you don’t need to be insecure about yourself. You’re awesome, in so many ways. I know that. The world knows that. Do you really think, if you meant nothing at all, if you were pure scum as you told me you felt that time, if you weren’t good for anything, that people would love you? There wouldn’t be people around you, trying to be your friends, your lovers.” I smiled “You mean the world to me, Gerard. And it hurts me that you hate yourself so much... because I love you. And being suicidal and harming yourself, you’re trying to destroy what I love. And I don’t like that.” He clung to my arms and I could feel his soft, hiccupped breath on my chest, which told me he was crying. I embraced him, caressing his hair with one of my hands just as he liked it.

“Shh... baby, it’s ok. Please, don’t cry...” I cooed, kissing him softly on his hair. I hated seeing him like that, even though it had been quite a long time since it had last happened (before earlier that afternoon, I mean). I was really worried, but it was for the best, I guess. He was expulsing his other self from his body and his mind, and that breakdown was kind of necessary. “I’m here with you.”

"She's so pretty, isn't she? I mean... She's just fucking wow. But... Like, she likes this persona I made for myself. She's just so independent and secure... How could she have a pussy like me for a husband? I had never found a girl that I bonded with like her... But then again, who am I fooling? I'm not the right guy for her. I'm not safe and cocky like I act. And she's not the girl for me. I need someone who can take care of me. She never will. Not because she's a bad person, but she is not fucking problematic like me, damnit! I was so afraid of being alone. I'm fucking old. Everybody had someone, I didn't. Then she just popped my way. I never thought a girl like her could be real. I mean... she's freaking perfect. But that’s the problem, isn’t it? It’s never worked between a girl and I. But you and I…we just…” He sighed and trailed off. “I know I shouldn't have married her... I'm sorry. I was just scared."

“I know. I know you were scared, I know. In your place, I probably would’ve done the same as you. But I’m here now, Gee. I’m here for you; I’m here for the real you, the weak, the insecure, the one who needs to be with someone, the one who’s asking for protection. I’m here. I don’t know if I’m exactly what you need, but I’m here,” I whispered, stroking his hair and kissing his head.

He looked up at me, his eyes wet and his cheeks red with those thin tear marks. "You're everything I need, everything I want, and a little more."

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Gerard. I’m sorry for not being with you when you needed me the most... at least not in the way I should have. I was scared too... I’ve been with her for a really long time, you know? And I didn’t know if we could... work together like we are now. Like we’re gonna try to. Please, forgive me,” I said, giving him a shy and small peck on his lips.

"It's the last piece I need for the puzzle to be complete," he whispered. "Your heart to join mine."

“My heart is yours already,” I whispered back. “Do as you please with it, but... please, don’t break it.”

"How could I break something that’s part of me?"

“Being suicidal.”

"I won't be if I have you."

“Promise?”

"Yes."

Suddenly, a not-so-weird sound was heard inside his tummy. I couldn’t help myself but giggle softly.

“You hungry, baby?” I asked.

"Well, is the offer you made at the airport of roasting your leg still up?"

“Hmm... I don’t know.” I played along “I’m hungry too, but you know I don’t eat meat.”

"You could eat the sheets."

“Hmm... but then what are we going to cover our sculptural bodies with?”

"I'll cover yours... with mine."

“Aww, you’re so sweet. And what about you?”

"Alright, alright... I'm out of comebacks. Get your cute little ass to the living room and look for the pizza number."

“Yaaaay!!” I cheered as I got out of the bed and ran downstairs to the big kitchen. I walked to the fridge, got the small menu that was stuck to the door with a couple of magnets and went upstairs again. Before I entered the bedroom, I put the paper in the waistband of my boxers and then went inside where he was waiting for me. “I found it.” I said with a cheesy voice, walking into the room at a slow, sexy pace.

"So? Call them, fucker. They're not gonna guess you want pizza."

“You call them,” I said, moving my hips tentatively, the menu of the pizzeria in the front of my boxers. His eyes dropped to them and he smirked.

"Slut," he joked, before shoving his hand inside my boxers. "Oh, I can't find the menu." He played, just to touch me around. I just let him, giggling at his actions.

“Mmmmhhhhmmm...Keep looking, baby, keep looking... register everywhere...” I said playfully.

"I'll keep looking. I'll need my Viagra soon," he said, squeezing me a little. I know, I’m a slut. But I liked it.

“Hmm... ok, enough, grandpa, we don’t want to over-stress you,” I said giggling, pulling away and taking the menu out from my underwear, giving it to him.

"Call them. I'm tired. And then give me a backrub. I'm all stiff," he said, grinning.

“Yes, master,” I said rolling my eyes and grabbing the phone that was on his nightstand. I sat on his lap, my back against his torso and my head resting against his shoulder as I checked the menu.

“Veggie pizza then? Do you want anything else?”

"Coke zero. There's nothing in the fridge."

“Okie-dokie.” I kissed his cheek, dialed the number and made the order. I hung up and looked at him. “40 minutes, 19 dollars”

"Oh my god, you want sex from me and money also? I'm hurt. Pay yourself."

“Stop bitching, grandpa…” I said, getting closer to him “I don’t have money, baby. I didn’t know I was staying here today.”

"Yeah, right, you think I don't know all about your extortion techniques?" He giggled. "Just kidding. In my wallet, in my pants, in the living room. And when the guy gets here, put some clothes on. I won't share all of this with anyone." I grinned, licking my lips playfully, playing sexy.

“But... what if I go to the door like this and he wants to give us the pizza for free thanks to the view?...” I asked innocently.

"Well, 19 dollars won't make me poor. Come here, Frankie."

I giggled as I turned on his lap, facing him.

"I love you so, so much," He said softly, before biting my bottom lip. "Now, where's the backrub?"

“I love you too, baby,” I said back, rubbing my nose against his. “And, well… You’ll have to make something to earn it”

"Like what, exactly? I'm old. I deserve a massage."

“Oh, now you’re old? Ok, oldie, I’ll give you a massage... but then you’ll have to go to sleep at 7. Any later would be way past your bed time!”

"If you sleep next to me." He smiled.

“Hmm… I don’t know… maybe you’ll wet the bed…”

"Why the fuck would I do that?"

"I don't know," I got closer to him, pecking his nose "Don’t old people wet the bed?"

"The only way I can wet the bed is by drooling all over it while I'm looking at you asleep."

“Wow, that much? Am I that sexy?”

He smiled softly and let out a short, dreamy sight. "You're perfect."

“Aww… Thank you, Gee.” I got closer to him and brushed my lips with his before kissing him slowly, my tongue darting out to lick his lower lip, asking for entrance. His hands ran up my arms and ended up on the back of my neck, willing me closer. He parted his lips and his tongue rubbed against mine. My arms wrapped around his torso, leaning him against the bed, straddling him, deepening the kiss. I couldn’t resist, he was just too perfect, and I was extremely happy that I had him with me. His breath became shallower as he dipped his head to the side and massaged my skin with his fingertips. It was all going wonderfully; but then his cell phone rang in the living room. And he heard it. “Please, don’t answer...” I mumbled against his lips, going lower to kiss his neck softly.

"Have to... they must be worried, Frankie."

I sighed after a few seconds and pulled away, rolling myself to lie on the bed, letting him free. It was her. I could put my foot on it. He ran to the living room and ran back, then answered his cell.

"Hello? Yeah, it's me." His eyes went wide and he looked at me. "Oh hi Jamia. Everything okay?" He started to walk around the room. "Yeah, well...we bought the tickets over the Internet and when we got to the airport, our seats were taken. So we decided to fly tomorrow." He grimaced. "Around noon? Yeah....We already bought them. No, Frank's here. Yeah. Oh really? I'll let him know. No, yeah... sorry. We stayed there waiting to see if we could fly today and then we got tired. We only got here now. You wanna know if he's going home? I don't know. Wanna talk to him? Okay. Oh, right, of course. No, she must have called while we were on the road. No it's okay. I'll call her myself. I'll hand Frankie the phone. Always, dear. Don't worry about it. Goodnight." He covered the speaker with his hand and whispered to me. "Your cell is off, must be the battery. She wants to know if you'll go home and she wants to talk to you."

“Fuck... I don’t wanna talk to her...” I whined, looking at him with pleading eyes. Why did she have to call right then, when I was with him?

"Frankie!" He exclaimed, handing me the phone more insistently.

“Alright, alright, gimme the phone... I’m every minute more convinced that I need to stop this as soon as possible...” I murmured as he gave me the phone. “Hello?”

"Hi Frankie!" I heard on the other side. Fuck... she was so sweet to me. I was definitely a bastard.

“Hey, J, how are you?”

"I'm good... I was worried about you guys. Lindsey called me." The bitch again.

“Oh, really? What did she say?”

"Well, she was worried because you didn't get there and it was getting late. Plus, Gerard's phone was out of service. But well, I'm glad you're okay. Bummer about the airport today, huh?”

“Tell me about it… I think my phone ran out of battery too. I didn’t charge it last night. I didn’t get any of your calls,” I explained. And, considering the current situation, even if I had, I wouldn’t have answered anyway.

"Oh, it's okay, don't worry 'bout it. So... you coming home tonight?" I sighed.

“Uh... I don’t think so, we’re too tired to drive. Plus, I have to work on a new song with Gerard, you know, to release with the new DVD and stuff... sorry.” Lies. Big fat lies. Honestly, how many times had I told her I had to work on a song with him?

"Oh... Okay then. Guess I'll see you in a couple weeks. Call me tomorrow?"

“Sorry. I’ll call you tomorrow, don’t worry. Take care, ok?”

"You too. Goodnight. I love you." I knew I should say it back. But I couldn’t. I didn’t feel the way she did. Not anymore at least.

"Ditto, sweetie. Goodnight. "

I turned the phone off and handed it to him. He didn't look at me as he dialed another number. I bit my lip.

"Hello? Hey, hun. You okay? Oh, great. I'm fine. Oh yeah, sorry 'bout that. We bought the tickets over the Internet and there was some kinda problem, so we couldn’t fly. Then we got stuck at the airport, and we only just got home now. No it's okay, we'll go tomorrow. 'Round noon I guess. So, see you there? Okay. Oh really? That's awesome! Have fun then. Okay. Me too. Goodnight. Bye." He flipped the phone shut and sighed. "We are both such jackasses."

“Tell me about it. We definitely need to sit with them and talk, urgently. Jamia already suspects, she’s no fool,” I said, looking to the floor. “I’m a bastard...”

continued here

And the eternity (2/2)

2008-06-01T19:24:42Z

Title: (Three hours) And the eternity
Authors: citricpepperand xpaddiex
Pairing: Frank/Gerard, mentioned Gerard/Lyn-Z and Frank/Jamia
Rating: NC-17
Beta: gee4president (thank you!)
Genre: Drama/Romance
POV: Frank's
Summary: Sometimes, a serious fight unchains affections that were locked away for too long
Disclaimer: We don't own any of these people, but we do own the plot, so if you don't want to face our evil superpowers, don't repost without permission
Warnings: Swearing, sex, some fluff
Authors' notes: This is still rp between the authors. citricpepper is Gerard, xpaddiex is Frankieboy. Also, I strongly recommend you to read the first part if you want to get any of this.

(first part here)

And the eternity

As soon as we got inside, I took off my backpack and put it on the couch in the living room. I didn’t do anything else, since it had been quite a while since I’d been there last, and it didn’t feel like home like I used to. So I looked at Gerard, like waiting for some instructions or something. I really didn’t know what to do.

He placed the keys on a counter and looked back at me, his lips quivering.

"Will you hold me?" He choked out, uncertainly.

I didn’t even answer. I just walked towards him and hugged him, wrapping my arms around his neck, hiding myself in the crook of it, peppering kisses across the skin there.

“I’m here...” I cooed on the shell of his ear, getting closer to him.

"Thank you," He whispered. "I need to sit down, or something," He then said with sudden urgency. "My knees are weak and not in the good way."

“I’m tired too... where do you wanna go?” I whispered in his ear, afraid of someone hearing us. What if that bitch was secretly spying on us somehow?

He gripped my arms and whimpered. "I'm serious, I need to sit down right now." He warned.

“Come here…” I said pulling away slightly, just to guide him to the couch and sit there with him. “Are you ok?... I’m sorry about your nose, it was an accident...”

"I need to..." He said, and buried his face in his palms for what felt like the tenth time that day. "I'm feeling dizzy." He explained, trembling.

“Relax, Gee... here, put your head on my lap so you can lay better...” I said, pulling him against me slightly to instruct him.

He lay down on his back, his eyes still closed as he rested his head on my thighs. I noticed he was really pale.

“Gee, you want me to bring you something?... I’m really worried...”

"It's okay... I'm getting better. Just don't leave me."

“I won’t, Gee. I won’t. Just relax.”

He took a deep breath and I started to stroke his hair. "I should get a band-aid"

“Want me to get one for you?”

"My wrists hurt," he told me, in a whiny tone, showing the sensitive skin he had scratched earlier. I examined the scratches and kissed them softly, running my lips across them.

“Don’t you ever do anything like this again.... please....”

"I won't. Tell me you love me?"

“I love you. More than anything.”

He curled up in a ball and rolled over on to his side, kissing my stomach through the fabric. "I feel like such a kid after all this."

“I know... but… Let’s just forget it, ok? We have to try and make things ok now. We need to put things in order.”

He nodded and then got up slowly, sitting up on my lap, and caressing the scratch he made just slightly. Then he leaned down and kissed it softly.

"I will never hurt you like this again," he whispered, his voice cracking again. "I still want to kiss every inch of you better. Will you let me?" I sighed against his skin, wrapping my arms around his neck again.

“Promise you’ll be gentle?...”

"I promise," he whispered. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

“It’s been ages since the last time...” I murmured

"I know," he whispered. He looked really fragile and breakable all of sudden, so different from the arrogant guy that had gotten to the airport that day. "Did you miss me?" He asked, and his eyes were watering one more time.

“Far too much for my liking. What about you? Did you miss me, Gerard?”

"You have no idea..." he uttered, brushing the very corner of my mouth with his lips. He giggled a little. "You know, this is gonna sound stupid, but in our kisses, our mouths fit? Like in a puzzle? I'm not making any sense, huh?"

I giggled slightly myself. I had to admit; he was right. I always thought so, at least.

“You’re not... but it’s true. It’s like... our lips were made for each others’” I whispered, brushing my lips back with his, so slightly, making both of us shiver.

"They were," he cooed before sucking my upper lip into his mouth, sliding his tongue over it ever so slowly, his hands holding the back of my neck. I let out a small whimper as my lips parted, allowing his lower lip to take it’s place in between them, sucking it slightly, copying the gentle movements of his tongue. I slid my arms to his waist, resting them on his sides, not daring to move any further. I needed to feel him, needed to feel the real Gerard and forget about the one who had tried to abuse me back in the airport, but it was getting a little harder than what I had thought. I opened my eyes for a brief moment, and saw him grimacing as he was experiencing an emotional rush. He just kept kissing me, very slowly, but it was still hard for me to loosen up; he had scared me back in the airport. A lot. I was trying to give in, trying to keep the pace of the kiss, our tongues playing and rubbing against each other so sloppily and softly, excitingly. It had been quite a few time since the last time we were together. Better said, since he was last with her, physically speaking, at least. It had been a long time since I actually was with the Gerard Way I wanted. I missed him a lot. I missed this a lot.

He broke apart and I looked at him puzzled. He brought one of his hands to the side of my cheek, and the other came to caress one of my eyebrows.

"You are beautiful. We are," he murmured, looking me right in the eyes, before leaning down and capturing my earlobe between his teeth, the fingers that were playing above my eye dropping down to my shoulder. I flinched slightly."We fit in every single thing. When we kiss, and your mouth completes mine, when you look at me, when we hold hands, when I feel your skin on mine, the way your tiny frame fits into my arms, when you hug me and I smell your scent, when I'm inside of you and I can feel every part of us connected..." At this point he paused, taking a sharp breath between his teeth, and squeezing my shoulders. "We both are thousands of tiny puzzle pieces and every little piece finds its match with the other. I'm not whole when I'm not with you," he said, breathing hotly into my ear. "You need to trust me, Frank."

“I’m not complete without you either, Gerard. We belong together, I learned that with time, and not having you with me makes me feel empty, like something’s missing. I’m missing all those little parts I need to feel complete” I sighed, feeling my eyes water, clinging to his shirt. “But from now on, the pieces will be together. I’ll give you all the pieces of me you need. But please... take care of them. I trust you.” At that moment, I couldn’t have felt better. I had him back now, and that was all that mattered.

"When I hate you... You need to understand, hate is not the opposite of love, it's just the most selfish face of it. I'm sorry for hating you at times, but I love you too much to not hate you. Because if I didn't, I'd be indifferent to you and I could never... Ever do that." He kissed just below my ear. "Let me make you mine. Please."

“I hate you too, Gerard… because you’re with her, and I want to be yours. I don’t like sharing. We won’t share anymore, with anybody... will we? please?” I whispered, taking a long breath, his tobacco scent filling my nostrils. I needed him.

"Shhh, I'm yours already…" he whispered, peppering wet little kisses all over my neck, his thumb sliding across my bottom lip a little hard. "Please, I just want to kiss you from head to toe."

He started to nibble on my skin. I let out a small moan, starting to feel my pants grow a little tighter.

“Take care of me, Gee... I need you...” I said, sliding my hands on his back, caressing him.

"I need you too, so... so much. Because I don't feel like you're safe in any other place in the world unless you're in my arms, unless you're under me, unless you have that pretty face on and unless you're whimpering my name, and making me insane with this need of providing you as much pleasure as a human being should be allowed to feel, this need of striking your spot so many times you'll see white, and it fucking hurts how good it is when you say my name, the way you say it," he whispered huskily, while trying to lie me down on the couch. I gave in to the act, his breath in my ear making me melt, my skin starting to burn in desire, my lips parted, breathing heavily, imagining all the things he was saying. I couldn’t even think straight.

“I fucking crave for you, Gerard. I need your touch, I need your kisses, I need your tongue, I need your body... I need to feel you, I need to taste you... I need you. Right now. Please…” I begged, my fingers running down his spine, going to the hem of his shirt, lifting it up a little bit to touch his skin, almost as hot as mine.

"Baby..." He breathed faintly, placing his body on top of mine. He began to unzip my hoodie and once it was off, he unbuttoned my shirt, getting it open without taking it off. "You're so, so gorgeous, Frankie..." He said, before kneeling and leaning down, running his fingertips onto the scratches he had made earlier. It hurt a little.

“I’m not…” I whispered, laying there for him to attend me, to take care of me. I was still a little afraid, but I was trying to give him the chance to show, to prove to me that the real Gerard was back. He was my Gerard, after all. Not the monster that had been with me earlier that day.

He started to kiss down the lines that were created on the surface of my skin, up and down. My hands wandered to his hair and he looked at me, smiling wide. Once he was done, he crawled up again pressing his hips down and took off his shirt. I sighed when our bare torsos connected, and he ran his palms over my sides.

"Do you feel that? The way the pieces fit?"

“Yeah…. They match perfectly,” I mumbled back, my fingers running through his hair and down his back, ‘till I reached the waistband of his jeans, resting my hands there. With a soft movement, I rolled us over so I was now over him, sitting on his hips, kissing and biting the soft skin of his neck hungrily, a little more secure about the situation. He was definitely my Gerard.

He ran his hands down my back and cupped my ass, squeezing it gently and pulling my hips down.

"I'll do anything you want..." He moaned.

“Anything?...” I mumbled, running my hands down his sides, scratching at his skin with my nails softly but firmly, biting his Adam’s apple, running my tongue along the vein of the side of his neck. I felt my insides burn as our groins met.

"Any-anything, just ask..."

I got closer to his ear and bit down on his earlobe.

“Do you love me?” I asked, the fingers of my right hand playing with one of his nipples while the other hand rested on his belt.

He whimpered with want.

"I love you. More than anything, I swear..."

“More than anyone?...” I murmured, rocking my hips slightly against his, feeling how hard he was inside his jeans.

"Y-yes..." he whispered, so low I could barely hear.

“I didn’t hear that...” I played, starting to so-slowly undo the buckle of his belt.

"I love you more than anyone else," he confessed. "I promise." I grinned at his words, the image of Lindsey on my mind for a brief second. ’Take that, bitch...’

“Do you like me, Gee?...” I continued, finally undoing his belt and sliding it out from the jean loops really slowly.

He gasped and opened his eyes.

"God... Wait, wait..." He whimpered, grabbing my hands to keep them still. I opened my eyes as well and looked at him, perplexed.

“Is there something wrong?” I asked, worried. What had happened?

He sighed deeply before looking at me, pulling my hands to his chest.

"You need to give me a minute," he choked out. "Because it's been too long since we've been together and I'm really worked up and... You just get me so wild... And I promised I'd be gentle."

I couldn’t help but smile and got closer to his lips, kissing him slowly and sweetly.

“You’re definitely the Gerard I love... it’s ok, baby, we’ll do things at your own pace. I just wanted to ask you one more thing...” I whispered, running my hands on his chest.

"Ask."

“Do you like me, Gee?”

He smiled at me. "Of course I like you."

“How much?”

"You can feel it between my lungs and between my legs. Your choice."

I smiled

“Both. I love you.”

His smile got bigger and he traced one of his hands up my back, then both on my chest so he could slide the previously unbuttoned shirt over my shoulders and throw it on the carpet. How cliché, really. He scanned my bared torso, splaying his palms all over my chest and sitting up on the couch, so I was caught straddling his lap. He looked at my body all time, his hands roaming on my front and eventually his fingertips got the buckle of my belt. I just looked at him, sighing at the contact, my arms wrapping around his neck, my forehead against his, looking at his hands moving. I smiled to myself.

“Missed me, Gee?” I said in a low voice, my moistened lips brushing his own.

"You have no idea," he murmured, before unbuckling it. His fingers were so shaky it took him a little while, and then he finally got me rid of the belt. Then his hands ran up my back pressing the skin down, then squeezing softly at the back of my neck and pulling me down for another deep kiss. While he was kissing me, he started to push us down so I was lying on my back again, this time on the opposite end of the couch. He didn't take his mouth off of mine, not even when he roughly pulled my legs up, forcing them to hook around his hips. He pressed his weight down to mine, our crotches touching, in the perfect position, just right fucking there. I whimpered into his mouth.

"The perfect fitting," he breathed against my lips. "Here." To make his point, he rolled his hips onto mine. I could feel he was really hard inside his jeans, and that against my own erection made little stars explode before my eyes. "Can you feel it?"

“Y-yeah…” I gasped, a moan escaping my lips at the friction, scraping the back of his neck with my nails. It was indeed a perfect fitting. Better than any other in the world. And he was so right; I didn’t feel safer in any other place but in his arms. “Gee... I need you...” I said, sliding one of my hands down his torso, caressing his skin ‘till I got to his jeans, cupping him through the denim, squeezing slightly. He moaned and gasped into my ear, one of his hands getting on top of mine with urgency pressing it down harder. He started to kiss down my torso again, whimpering as our hands slid off his crotch. Then he got to the front of my jeans. He looked up to me with an evil smirk before sliding the zipper down with his fucking teeth.

“Ah...” I moaned slightly at the sight, looking at his every move, feeling every inch of my body burn with desire.

Once the jeans were open, he worked to get them down, which was kind of hard because they were tight. Then, when he tried to get them off he laughed, we both still had shoes on. He smiled and carefully untied my converses, taking them and my socks off.

"It's so funny to fuck with socks on, isn't it?" He commented cheerfully before removing my jeans and leaving me with only my boxers on. I giggled at his comment, feeling relieved at the considerable loosening around my crotch. Not fully, but it wasn’t that unbearable anymore.

“It would be really bizarre...” I said, rolling us over again. “Want me to take off your jeans, baby?...” I asked, a playful innocent grin on my face.

"Y-yeah, I do..." He answered. I smiled at him and unbuttoned them, unzipping them really slowly, taking my time to take off his boots and socks too. Once I finished, I sat on his hips, rocking mine slightly, enjoying both the soft friction of our bodies and staring down at his face.

"What do you want me to do now, my love?" he asked.

“Ungh... whatever you want, Gee...”

"That's a dangerous request baby," he chuckled, before sitting up and kissing down my neck again, but just briefly. His tongue caressed every trace of my tattoos, past my chest and stomach, until my boxers. Then he kissed me, over the fabric. Very hot and very wet. I moaned, this time a little more loudly than the previously, surrendering into his touch and caresses. I was too turned on to even think straight, but the only thing I knew for sure was that I wasn’t scared anymore, but the very opposite.

“Ah... you’re driving me insane, baby...” I whimpered, lying back down onto my back and tilting my head back into the couch, arching my back in pure pleasure.

"Mmhmm," he murmured, and continued his attack over the fabric, licking and soaking my boxers. I could feel myself getting more wet every second, not only with his saliva. I entangled my fingers on his hair and kept moaning, bucking my hips up slightly, trying to get more contact. He was indeed driving me insane.

“P-please, Gee... urgh....” I moaned.

"What, sweetheart?" He asked sweetly, and I really loved him with all my heart, but that was the sluttiest fucking pout I'd ever seen. He slid down my boxers and kissed the very tip of my member, still looking up to me. "You want me to kiss you here?"

“Y-you know I want it…” I said, looking at him with lustful eyes. He suddenly handed me a small cushion from one of the small armchairs next to the couch. I looked at it, a little puzzled, but he just winked at me and kept planting open-mouth kisses all over my length, up and down. I got the hint and put the cushion behind my head, keeping it up so I could enjoy the view. And what a view. He was looking back at me, right into my eyes, as he kept going; it was like watching a porn movie, with my favorite actors in it. Just perfect. But, instead of enveloping me with his mouth like I was expecting him to, he just kept kissing, and then he began to kiss the area between my balls, and then on the inside of my thighs, my knees, my calves... until the tip of one my toes. He bit down on it playfully, before climbing on top of me again.

"Your foot tastes bad," he commented and I couldn’t contain the giggle.

“Well, who told you to do that?” I asked, looking at him with my cheeks red. “It’s not my fault...”

"I'm just kidding, silly," he giggled, kissing my cheek affectionately. "Frank, do you want to go all the way? Because I have to look around for lube here in that case."

“So soon, baby? In a rush, are we?” I asked playfully, sitting up quickly to nip at his earlobe sweetly, bucking up my hips slightly, grinding myself against his clothed ones.

"Not exactly... Why?" He questioned grinning.

“Well.. I was thinking I could give you a couple of... useful lessons... maybe...” I whispered against his ear, one of my hands travelling along his back ‘till the waistband of his boxers, sliding it under the fabric, caressing his skin.

"Uuh..." He breathed. "Wha-what lessons?"

“Oh, well... let’s just say it’s something you always considered me really good at doing... I just want to check if I’m still the master at it or not...” I winked, rolling us over again, pinning him down into the cushions of the couch with an evil grin. He bit his swollen lip and grinned. I noticed briefly that that dry blood under his nose must have been bugging him a little.

"Yeah?"

“Yeah… you know what it is, already?...” I smiled, as I started first kissing his neck, moving down slowly to his chest. One of my hands went directly to his underwear, pulling it down slowly.

"Umpf..." He hissed softly, closing his eyes. “Frank, baby, please..."

“Please what, my dear?...” I asked faking innocence as I finished removing his boxers and tossing them in the floor.

"Please... Make me see stars."

“I’m gonna try...” I said, reassuming my task, kissing and biting softly the flesh that covered his hipbones, one of my hands caressing his really hard member. My goal. I began to breathe hot air all over it, making his own breathing rhythm speed up, before leaning down and licking slowly on the separation of his two balls. Then I started to suckle softly on the smooth skin, and I felt his hands going through my hair. I smirked and ran my tongue from the base to the tip of his member, repeating the process and treating his cock as if it were a fucking lollypop. His fingers were tight onto my scalp, and he was whimpering, his hips twitching. I enclosed my lips around the swollen head, creating a suction tunnel into my mouth, and a little jet of pre-come swept across my tongue.

“Frankie… fuck…” He said strangled, his back arching. I moved my head down, tightening my mouth around him even further as I took him to the back of my throat, swallowing around him and sucking really hard, like I would die if I didn’t do it. “God… your mouth…” I opened my eyes but his head was thrown back. I slowly, agonizingly slowly, released him from my mouth.

“If you want to take the reigns, please do it.” I whispered.

He gasped and groaned, pulling at my hair and making me moan. His hips began to move up and down, as I relaxed my throat to welcome him fucking my face. Not that it required that much work; I was good at it.

“Ah! Fuck, god…”

Once he had told me my blowjobs could be described as pure fucking sin and I could see his opinion was the same as he gripped my scalp and moaned away my name. I loved making him feel good. I loved that it was something he liked me doing.

“Jesus fucking… Frankie… fuck.”

I smirked and held his hips down, forcing him to remain still. He whimpered and tugged at my hair, but I didn’t take him in again. I just began to kiss his shaft from the base, placing suctioning pecks at the throbbing vein on the other side. Then I just leaned back, and saw him biting his lip, his head going from side to side against the couch.

“Oh fuck, god, please…”

I grinned and waited a little more, blowing a little bit of cool air before deep throating him again, sucking on him with gusto. He moaned loudly.

"Ung, baby... I-I can't hold b-back anymore..." he mumbled, a mass of sweat and moans. I pulled away with a sexy ‘pop’, licking the rest of the saliva and pre-come from my lips, looking at him with feigned innocence. I was definitely the best at it, and I wasn’t modest about it either. There was no need to be.

“Was it good, baby?” I asked, even though I knew the answer. I just needed him to say it. Again. Every time.

"You have no fucking clue of how good that feels," he panted.

“Really?...that good?” I smiled, climbing on top of him again so we could be face to face.

"Yeah. That good and a little more. Is there anything that you think I'm good at, too?" He teased.

“Of course...” I got closer to his ear and, brushing my lips against it, I whispered, “nobody fits inside me better than you, baby...”

He let out a little groan.

"Is that so?"

“Hell yeah…. You’re the best,” I said honestly. Indeed he was, no doubt about it.
He smiled at me, and pulled me down for a kiss. It was his idea, but it turned into a kind of slow tongue fuck, as our bare hips grinded lazily. He coaxed me into falling to a side, and then pressed me against the rest of the seat, pushing up a leg to hook above the curve of my hip and pushing his groin against mine, never breaking the kiss. I just let him lead, grinding myself against him, moaning in pure bliss, enjoying it every second it last. I wrapped my arms around his neck, caressing his back and his head with my hands, tangling my fingers on his soft hair. I was simply loving it.

“Gee...” I moaned inside his mouth.

He slid his strong hands to my hips, pushing them against him with more and more force. "Frankie..." He moaned inside mine. "Did I lock the door?"

“Do I look like I fucking care?” I smiled, one of my hands squeezing his ass, bringing his hips closer to mine and moaning out loud at the effect.

"Oh, fuck..." He moaned too, biting on the fleshy part of my chin. "Do you want us to get caught in this not so innocent position?"

“Could she possibly come?....” I moaned, drawing my head back, exposing my neck, offering it to him. I loved when he bit and sucked at the skin there.

"Well, I'm not necessarily talking about her, it could be anyone. A thief?" He rambled before burying those plush lips on the skin of my neck, sucking hard to slide his tongue over the abused skin and repeating the process.

“Gerard...” I groaned in frustration “Just shut up and make me yours.”

"I fucking love you," he said with my flesh inside his mouth. Then he gripped one of my hands and brought it to his lips, kissing my palm.

"If I ask you to do something, will you do it for me?" I nodded without thinking twice, my body aching for him.

“Anything. I love you.”

He leaned down on my ear and held my hand.

"I want you to get my fingers and place them exactly where you want me to enter you."

I let out a whimper as I took his hand and started to place soft and wet kisses all over his fingers, sucking them slightly. Once they were covered with a generous amount of my saliva, I kissed him deeply on the lips, lifting one of my legs and putting it around his hips, giving him the perfect access, positioning his hand near my entrance and whispering a bare “right there” when I pulled back.

"Yeah..." He said breathless. "Hey, get your hand back here. I'm gonna need it. You're gonna help me." I did as he told, a little curious.

He started to rub his humid finger against my opening, up and down. Then moved a little and began to stroke my perineum, while leaning down to gently suck on my nipple. I started to pant heavily after a few seconds, letting out small whimpers. I’d actually forgotten he was such an expert on the subject. Or maybe I hadn’t, but I needed to revive it. Definitely.

I supported myself against the crook of his neck, my free fingers gripping at his biceps. "Feels good?" He cooed, before getting back to the sucking on my taut flesh.

“A-amazing.... oh, fuck... Gee...” I moaned slightly, my eyes hidden behind my hair, my cheeks red.

"The way you say my name..." He started, when he made his fingers slip over my hole, applying pressure and massaging in circles. "It drives me fucking crazy.”

“Holy shit…” I let out, trembling in pleasure when he did that. He loved hearing me, I never forgot that. That’s why I was using my most whorish voice to talk, not only for him but because I couldn’t contain myself any more. I needed him. Right then and there.

“And you drive me fucking insane… Gee...”

"What do you want me to do now?" He asked, kissing my lips briefly. "Hm?"

“It depends on what you want…” I said, trying to sound mysterious. Of course I knew what I wanted. I just wanted to make sure it was mutual. I needed to make sure.

"I want the ultimate fitting."

“Then you know what the next step is,” I encouraged him further, pulling him against me, kissing him deeply.

"Uh huh..." He said into my mouth. "I do. Ready?" I nodded. “Okay." He stated, before forcing one single finger inside me. I relaxed, feeling a little bit uncomfortable, as always at the beginning. It would sound a little bit unreal but, seriously, a month is a lot of time, and human body can’t memorize everything in a split second. Or well, at least not this. I sighed, closing my eyes, resting my forehead against his. "It's gonna be okay." He kissed the tip of my nose. "It's gonna be all okay now."

“I know...” I said in a whisper, “I love you.”

He pushed in another finger and started to, very slowly, slide them in and out, but not placing them to the knuckles. Then he told me, "Put one of yours in, baby. Help me."

I let out a small moan, doing as he told me. He was commanding now, and I was in the perfect mood to obey every one of his orders.

“L-like this, Gee?...”

"Yeah baby, just like this. Go slow."

“Ok,” I whispered, pulling in and out very slowly, at the same pace he established. As I felt myself getting used to the feeling, I gradually increased the pace and the rhythm, just like he did.

"Can you take one more, baby?" He asked. I bit my lip and nodded, holding back a moan. I slowly slid another of my fingers with his, keeping the pace steady. My lips formed a perfect ‘O’ as the pleasure increased slightly.

“P-please, Gee...” I moaned, eyes still hidden.

"Just a little more," he said, and curved his fingers up, crisscrossing them as I slid my own in and out, deep, trying to satisfy the urge of being filled. He started to scissor around and after a few instants, his fingertips nailed my spot. I opened my eyes widely, looking at him, my back arched in pure lust and desire.

“Fuck!” I cursed into a kind of deep moan, trying to keep the rhythm with my own fingers, finding it a little difficult because of the position. “Oh my g-god, Gee... unh... please...” I moaned urgently, trying to calm myself.

"Moan for me," he pleaded helplessly, apparently unable to stop his hips from rocking a little, his two fingers pressing hard against my prostate, shifting the force from one to another at every second. And even if I hadn’t wanted to comply, there was no possible way that I could remain quiet. I let out a deep moan, throwing my head back, repeating his name over and over, just like I knew he liked it. My free hand went directly to his member, giving it a hard but firm squeeze, stroking it with energy. After all, it didn’t seem fair that I was having all the fun.

It was insane; he started to let out raspy moans at my touch, and his fingers pressed against my spot more urgently. It was almost too much to bear.

“P-please, Gee… ah….” I begged, moaning at the same time “Please... I I need... y-y-ou... I n-need you, Gee... please...”

"Keep moaning, Frankie, please..."

“Ungh…. S-stop teasing already, Gee... oh, fuck...” I said, trying desperately to hold back, jacking him off madly. I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Want you inside me, Gee… need you in-inside me... please...”

"Okay," he whimpered, withdrawing his fingers very slowly. "Okay, my love..."

I pulled mine out with his, not having been able to do so before because of the angle. I panted heavily, trying to relax myself for a bit before putting my hands on his shoulders.

“Thanks... we almost spoiled all the fun...” I side-smiled, opening my eyes to look into his own.

"I just wanted to have you ready, baby." He smiled. I remember he used to do that all the time, preparing me to the point of torture.

“I know. Thank you, Gee,” I whispered, kissing his lips slow, soft and sloppily.

"No need to thank me. Are you ready?"

“Always,” I said with a small grin plastered on my face.

He giggled a little. "Okay. Don't close your eyes."

“I won’t.”

continued here

Three Hours (1/2)

2008-06-01T03:30:07Z

Title: Three Hours (1/2)
Authors: citricpepper and xpaddiex
Pairing: Frank/Gerard, mentioned Gerard/Lyn-Z and Frank/Jamia
Rating: Hard R
Beta: gee4president (thank you!)
Genre: Angst/Drama/Romance
POV: Frank's
Summary: Within three hours, a lot can happen, when there's built-up hostility between two men
Disclaimer: We don't own these people, but we do own the plot, so if you don't want to face our evil super powers, don't repost without permission
Warnings: Swearing, shitload of bitchiness, mild violence, attempt of rape
Authors' notes: This is rp based; citricpepper is Gerard, xpaddiexis Frankieboy

Three Hours

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN? WE BOUGHT THESE TICKETS LAST NIGHT!" Gerard yelled, punching the counter.

"I'm really sorry, sir, but your names aren't in the reservations list for this flight," the small woman in front of us informed, with a thick southern accent.
'Great…just fucking awesome...'

We were in the lovely Jersey, after being there for two days to handle some things with Brian about copyrights. But, of course, thanks to the previous day's events, we were forced to buy last minute tickets, and here we were. Perfect.

"There's gotta be a fucking mistake. What am I supposed to do now, walk to California? Huh?" he persisted. We were standing in a line in front of a check-in post at the airport, and people behind us were starting to get fidgety and impatient and pay special attention to the man yelling at the attendant.

"N-no, sir, you won't have to walk to California, just please step aside and we'll inform you when things are solved," she managed to say though I noticed her hands were trembling slightly.

Gerard let out a sarcastic laugh.

"Step aside?? Step the fuck aside? You've gotta be kidding me." He took off his sunglasses and looked at the woman again. "Do you have any idea of who I am? No, I don't think so, because you don't look like you have any musical sense. But I have a really important fucking band and there are thousands of kids waiting for me to arrive to California so I can sing for them! So, unless you put me on a plane right now, we're gonna have a big problem, because I have to be there tonight and just because people in this company don't have any brains, doesn't mean I have to suffer because of it. So no, I won't fucking step aside and wait for you to do anything. You'll solve the problem right this fucking minute."

'.... What the fuck....?'

"Gerard, please, calm down," I said from behind. Why was he always ready to fucking shoot someone in the face if he didn't get his way lately? Not to mention, we would only have a gig on the next day. We both knew the real reason why he was in such a rush to get back to the tour, and it pissed me the fuck off. I looked back at the woman, tears forming in her eyes.

"I-I'm really sorry, sir, but there's nothing I can do about it..." she said with a cracked voice. A superior appeared.

"What's going on?" he looked from the woman to our front man trying to understand the situation.

"Hello." Gerard said sternly. "You see, we have a problem here. My cousin and I made reservations for the 2 pm flight on the internet last night, but apparently, ‘our-name-isn't-on-the-list’." He mocked. "And we have to get to California urgently for business and if that doesn't happen, I'm gonna have to sue the airline company, unfortunately."
The man looked at us in shock for a moment, took our IDs and checked on the computer himself. Then looked back at us.

"I'm really sorry, sir, there's been an error and we're already working on fixing it. Unfortunately you two can't board this flight, the seats are all taken. It just seems that your seats had been sold before you bought them. But, don't worry about it, we're solving it right now and you'll be flying to California in the next flight we have, and with a discount of 20% over the normal price so there will be no need of suing anyone." Gerard cocked an eyebrow.

"And when will that be..?"

"Three hours from now sir, unfortunately."

"THREE HOURS? Is this a joke? We live in fucking Belleville, I can't go home and wait, so what am I supposed to do, sit here and knit?"

"No sir, you can both wait in a VIP room. I'll have one available for you pronto, so you can wait comfortably. Is that okay?" he said politely.

"I suppose so," Gerard said arrogantly. I didn't even turn to watch him as I walked towards the man with my bag. He walked with us through a hall and we got to the VIP room. Then he excused himself, apologizing one more time and telling us that our tickets were being provided.

"Would you mind awfully, sir, if I ask you what the fuck is wrong with you?" I asked bitterly once the man had left the room, throwing my bag on a big leather couch.

"Oh Frank, c'mon... this is fucking unbelievable. And I even told you that we should buy the tickets this morning but you said it's okay to buy them on the Internet, And look where it got us?"

"Wow. Interesting. So this is my fault now? I'm sorry, cousin," I snapped sharply, looking through the window. I really couldn't believe any of this was happening. It was too much already. Just too fucking much.

"Oh, so you are gonna get all moody on me now? Don't be such a kid, I have enough to stress over already."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Way, I won't bother you with my childishness. Is there anything else you need, sir, while I’m at it? Want me to blow cold air on your face because you're hot? Want me to cut off one of my legs and roast it because you're hungry?"

Gerard cocked an eyebrow.

"What seems to be the problem?"

"Fucking everything. And what's worse is that you really don't know what you’re doing wrong. That, or you're just a complete asshole."

"You've gotta be clearer than that if you want me to understand."

"Yeah, right. I forgot, Mr. Gerard Way is stressed. I'm sorry. He doesn't notice when he hurts people. Of course, everything is unintended, because he's stressed, and he can't understand us poor, insignificant people, because his problems are much too important." I turned back to look at him. "I'm sorry, Mr Rock star, just pretend I didn't say anything"

Gerard blinked for a few times and then sighed, getting closer to me on the couch.

"Okay, I see what this is about. I haven’t paid you enough attention lately. Is that it? C'mon, we can still have some fun in the plane's restroom," He hinted playfully, leaning in and trying to kiss me. I just pulled away from him, avoiding the contact.

"It's not just that Gerard! Oh my god, you really don't get it do you? It's no lie, you really don't understand. This is way more than just lack of attention!!"

"What is it then?"

"Everything!! I don't know exactly when all this started, I really can't tell. And I don't know about the others, but to me this is unbearable. Tell me, since when did you become this arrogant?" I said, crossing my arms.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You heard me. Since when, huh?... Since when has it been all about you? For fucks sake, you could’ve at least said ‘me and my band’ . Since when am I your fucking cousin?"

"Oh god... c'mon... what did you expect? My boyfriend? Frank, you're making a big deal out of fucking nothing."

"I don't know what we are anymore. Especially since you’ve been wearing that fucking thing on your left hand," I said, trying to hold back tears of anger, pointing to the gold ring he had on his finger.

He sighed impatiently. "Here we go..." and rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, here we go. Don’t you have anything to say about it? Lemme have it, Gerard. Speak now or forever hold your peace."

"What do you want me to say? I love her, I married her, she makes me happy. Nothing to talk about."

"Ok, so, you won't say anything beyond that. What about me? I don't make you happy, right? Am I no good in bed, baby?" I said sarcastically.

"Look, can we not do this? I'm in a relationship with one girl already, I don't need another one."

"Right. You’re already in a relationship. I'm sorry, for one second I just forgot. Wait, no, I actually didn't forget! Ok, let's talk about something else then, 'cause Mr. Way doesn't wanna talk about it. Let's see, another subject... " I tapped my finger against my pursed lips in feigned thoughtfulness. "What about the little fact that lately, all it seems to be about is you, Gerard? ‘I have a band, I have to be there, I have to sing for thousands of kids that are waiting for me’.... And we don't even have to be there tonight, you just want to fly to see your girl. I thought we were in this together, the five of us. I thought this was our band. What's up with that? Since when has this become about you and you alone?" I said, trying to control myself.

"Frank, you're really overreacting. It's just a way of saying things, you know it's all of us."

"It's not, Gerard, and you know it. If it is, then how can you explain the fact that you agree to do interviews and photo shoots alone?"

"Because I'm the face of the band! C'mon, you guys don't even give a shit about that stuff. You, Frank, bore yourself to death at interviews. You're just trying to find a reason to bash me."

"I'm not, Gerard, I'm just sick of this. Sick of your fucking attitude, sick of your fucking rockstar diva pose, sick of you trying to get the attention from everyone, marrying someone, practically fucking your guitarist on stage like you actually give a fuck about it…about me..." I had to turn my back on him, looking outside to the landing strip, trying with all my heart not to start crying, not to let a single tear fall from my eyes. That would be the end of me.

"Look, does this even have a point? 'Cause I'm really tired and I'd rather not do this now."

"You're tired? You’re tired!? I'm fucking exhausted!! You just don't care about what I'm saying, do you? No, of course you don't. Weird, 'cause I'm talking about you, a subject which you normally love."

He kicked his bag on the floor and stood up, apparently unable to contain his anger.

"Okay, you wanna talk? Then fucking talk. I'm all ears. Fucking happy now? C'mon, let's get this over with!'

"I'd love to," I said, turning to face him, leaning against the window-wall with my arms crossed. "I've spoken enough though. Do you have anything else to say or do you want me to keep talking and make you a thesis of the current situation?"

"What is it that you want me to say? It doesn't really fucking matter, because every time I open my mouth, I'm wrong. Do you get off on bitching about me and seeing how far you can push me before I crack? Can't you be fucking happy for the fact that I’m very happy? You're selfish, and you frustrate me a whole fucking lot! I'm the one who is getting sick of this. What is it that you expect from me, huh? What is it that you want from me? Okay, I admit that I've changed, but it's because I feel good about my fucking self now and I have someone who really loves me, and I didn't know what that was like before. Seems like you just want the old Gerard back, even if it means that I'm unhappy. You're the selfish one here, Frank, not me! C'mon, tell me! What the fuck do you want from me?"

I looked up to him in awe.

"You know, you're right. I want the old Gerard Way back, because I can't even look at the current one. Because I know you're not happy, even if you try to make us all believe you are. Even if you try to make yourself believe it, you just can't. Remember who the fuck I am ? I'm your best fucking friend, you know? I know you even better than you know yourself. That's why I don't understand what the fuck is wrong with you. I'm just sick of your fucking attitude, sick of your arrogance, sick of you showing off in front of everyone, sick of that poor girl you think you love just because she said the same things I once said to you. Oh, but it doesn't matter what Frank says, 'cause Frank has a dick. It would be wrong to be with Frank, right? It would be very wrong, 'cause I can't marry him, I can't show him off in front of anyone. Then people will call me a fag, and no one will love me anymore, no matter who the fuck I am. Isn't that right, Gerard? 'Cause, let's be honest here, you cannot really tell me you love her," I said with a thick, shaking voice, my emotions betraying me while tears started to pour from my eyes.

He looked away.

"You have a fiancé too, and she does not have a dick, as far as I'm concerned." He whispered.

"I'm not married," I said bitterly, not looking at him either. "Plus, both of us know Jamia has nothing to do with all this, nor has she ever had to. You know I only asked you for a little time so I could talk to her about this, and what did you do instead? You looked for a female bassist you’d only just met because she was on the same fucking tour and a month after you married her after, what? A month? I don't think I have anything else to say, do I?"

"I love her. She wanted to marry me in one fucking month, she didn't ask me to wait at all, not even a single fucking day."

"She was touring with you. She would’ve done anything to drag more attention to her band. What would you say 4 years ago if, let's say, you were touring with Bon Jovi and he'd asked you to marry him? Would you have said no?"

He took a step closer and grabbed my arm with a tight grip, forcing me to look in his eyes.

"Don't you ever, ever dare saying that again. She's not with me because of that. If you can't be happy for me, then that's your problem, but don't say I am not. You're no fucking best friend of mine. You don't know shit about me."

With a quick movement I got rid of his grip but maintained the eye contact, defiantly.

"No you’re right, I don't know shit about you. I'm not your best friend either. I'm Gerard Way's best friend, and I'd love you to send him a message: tell him that I'm gone. If he ever wants to talk to me again, he knows where or how to find me. Until that moment, stay the fuck away from me," I snarled, and pushed past him, walking to the other corner of the room, but he grabbed my arm again and forced me to look at him. His movements were harsh, almost too angry, and it was hurting me.

"Don't you dare," He hissed.

"Don't I dare what?" was my angry comeback, even though I was falling apart inside. 'Please, stop doing this to me...'

"Leaving me like this," He shoved me into a wall, pinning my arms to it aggressively. "You’re not going to fucking leave me."

"I'm not leaving you. You pushed me away a long time ago, baby" I whispered harshly, not fighting back. I didn't give a fuck anymore.

He grabbed my jaw, pressing his fingertips under it. It was hurting, and he was shoving my head back into the wall.
"Stop doing this to me."

I backed off with a whimper, trying not to show any sign of weakness.
"What am I doing? Telling the truth?"

"Tell me what is it that you want from me," He said, applying even more pressure to his grip.

"I want you, Gerard. I want you to stop being a prick and be yourself again. I want you to stop being arrogant and selfish and pay attention to the others, like you used to. Your fucking attitude is breaking us apart, not only us, but the whole band."

"You don't get it, do you? For the first time in my life, I'm not afraid. I don’t feel ashamed of myself. I'm proud of who I am. Do you have any fucking idea of what that means? And now you're trying to tell me that my friends don't like seeing me happy! Because I am fucking happy! And you should... Feel the way I feel when I'm with her. I feel like I'm welcomed and wanted and it's so fucking... Urgh, why can't you just be happy for me? What was I supposed to do? I was sick of waiting for you anyway and she was there when I needed her. You don't get anything. I'm tired of you and your fucked up theories. You're just being so shallow. You say you want the old Gerard back but you don't even realize what it is that makes me who I am. You just want me to be fucked up again so you can be all proud about being such a good friend to me. You want me to fuck you really good but be back in her arms by morning, like I’m just your pity fuck or something. But I've found someone who doesn't only feel pity for me! And I don't need your fucking pity! Fuck, I'm so sick of all this," he growled, letting me go and sitting back on the cough, burying his face into his trembling hands. I just looked at him.

"My dear lord... Is that what you think? Do you really think that all I feel for you is pity? Do you think I'm the type of slut, that I would sleep with you or say the things I said thousand times just out of pity!? Who the fuck do you think I am?! The only reason I asked you for a little time to talk to Jamia was just because it's not easy to get out of a seven year relationship and much more of friendship, and I needed to be careful about it!! I told you that, and you agreed to give me that time. You recognized that it wasn't an easy task and we agreed that I'd do it as fast as I could!! We were on fucking tour! I can’t break up with her over the telephone, Gerard. I cannot just call my fiancé and say 'Hey, J, you know what? We're over'. It's not that easy. I even told you everything I felt for you, that it wasn't only a friendship thing, that I really had feelings for you beyond that. I even told you I love you, which I do, even though you just went and fucked the first girl you found and, after a fucking month, married her, because she said all the same things I told you thousand times. And don't get me wrong, I'm really proud of what you accomplished. I really am, seriously. The problem is, you threw away everything you had, both bad and good. And you threw me away too, Gerard. I didn't do this. You did it to yourself"

"Then go away," He said from between his hands. "If you think I'm such a monster, then just go away."

I could tell he was crying. I wasn't sure if I gave a fuck about it or not.

...

Who was I trying to fool? I did care about it. I cared a lot about it.

"Gerard, you don't understand. I don't want to go away. I want you to understand what I'm saying and try to change. If you don't want us to be together or don't want to ever talk to me again, then fine. But your attitude with everyone is destroying everything you’ve accomplished. It's destroying the band. It's leaving you alone," I got slightly closer, kneeling on the floor in front of him, trying to look at his eyes.

"I'm not alone," he said still not uncovering his face. "You're the only one who wants me to be alone."

"Stop saying that! Can't you see I just wanna help you? I don't want you to lose everything, that's why I'm trying to talk to you. I've been talking with the guys, especially Bob. Ray even mentioned he didn't like any of this and was thinking of quitting the fucking band!! Can't you see your arrogance and selfishness is destroying us, destroying you again?!" I said desperately. I didn’t like seeing him like this, but I couldn't just let everything fall into pieces around him, around us. I couldn't take it anymore.

He let out a frustrated growl and leaned back, still covering his face. A few minutes passed until he spoke again.

"Okay, you win. What is it that I have to change about my attitude?"

"You have to change all this thing about yourself, Gerard. I know you're Gerard fucking Way and you’ve accomplished a lot in your life, specially the last 5 years. But it wasn’t just you. It was you and your band, 'cause we’re a team, remember? You and your band helped a lot of teenagers who were alone and as depressed as you were, as we all were. They owe you a lot. But it doesn't mean you can act like you own the world. You act like you can do whatever the fuck you want and it's not like that. And if you think I’m just making all this stuff up, just think about what’s going on in your life at the moment, Gerard. You have a band that’s about to break up, a brother who’s taken almost a year of vacations from the band because deep inside him he’s sick of his older brother’s attitude. You’re married to someone you don't love. Gerard, you're much better than this!"

"Okay…Okay…I've just been... stressed lately. I'll try my best okay? To think less about myself and shit. But don't say I don't love her. I love her. I fucking do."

"Ok, I won't say it then. We won't discuss that again if you don’t want to. But don't you ever dare to tell me that I want you to be alone or that we only ever fuck because I feel sorry for you or any other shit like that, 'cause you know it's not true, Gerard. You have no idea what I feel for you, apparently. You don't even have to return the feelings if you don't want to, if you don't feel them. I just want you to know."

He then finally removed his hands, and I could see the marks of tears on his cheeks, his eyes red and pulled me closer by my arms, aggressively, once again forcing me to look into his eyes.

"Look at me. Look at this. What is it that you think this all means? What is it that you think I feel for you?"

"I-I don't know anymore. I don't even know if you consider me a friend anymore. What do you feel?"

"I said fucking look at me!" He growled, pulling me even closer by my hair, and our noses touched. "Can't you see?" Some tears were pouring down his cheekbones. "Can't you see how much it hurts, the fact that we are so... far from each other…so distant? I'd fucking do anything for you, I swear to fucking god. But... Things don't work that way. It's way more fucking complicated." He traced the outlines of my lips with his free hand. "It's fucking killing me. Don't tell me you can't see." He gulped. "I beg you."

I couldn't control myself anymore. Tears like his were running down my own cheeks, and I closed my eyes, kissing the tip of his fingers. The fingers from the person I loved the most in the whole world, even if he was hurting me, pulling at my hair with anger. One of my hands went right to his hair, fisting it like his hand was with mine.

"Show me the way it is then. I'm the one begging here, Gerard. Show me how much you care."

He smashed our mouths together and it kind of hurt, the crash of my teeth with the insides of my lips.

"Fucking kiss me," he hissed onto my mouth. I couldn't do anything but surrender, giving myself in to him, once again.

"Tell me where this is going, Gerard... please..." I mumbled against his lips.

"We can't be together, not now. Just please..." He whimpered. "Just pretend. Just kiss me. I need you." His grip on my hair got more forceful yet again. I tried not to let out a small squeal, trying not to show any sign of weakness. I didn't want that. Not in front of this man.

"N-no. I can't pretend anymore," I said, trying to pull away from him, without succeeding. "I need you."

"I said fucking kiss me, didn't you hear?" He said, attempting to shove his tongue into my mouth, and pulling my hair so hard my scalp stung in pain. My grip on his hair hardened too, pulling it fiercely as I tried to step away from him.

"Y-you're hur-hurting me," I whimpered, trying to get away from him. Half of my body was paralyzed out of fear. Fear of the man who was in front of me, of the man who I loved with all my heart. He got out of the couch and shoved me on the floor, scratching the side of my face, hard.

"Stop running away from me!" he yelled, as I tried to stand up from the floor, crying really hard.

"G-gerard, please... l-let me go...."

He pinned me down, his weight crushing my body from the waist down and spat on my face.

"Isn't this what you want? Isn't this the only thing I'm good for?" He asked, trying to unzip my hoodie and his fly at the same time. I started to panic for real.

"I-it's not. It's n-not, Gerard, it's not. P-please, let me go, you're hurting me..." I said, trying in vain to move.

He leaned down and started to suck on my neck, really hard and brought one of my hands to his crotch, pressing down. "Can you feel that? You make me really fucking hard." Then he sobbed. "I fucking love you. Lemme fucking get inside of you and never get out."

"Y-you don't love me. G-gerard, please, stop!" I whimpered helplessly, crying hard, trying desperately to get up. I was really scared.

"I fucking love you!" He yelled. "What's the matter? It's not like we've never done this!" He said, finally prying my hoodie up and shoving his hand under my shirt, scratching the skin really violently. I yelped in pain.

"You don't love me!" I insisted with my voice chocked. "I do love you, Gerard. I don't want it like this.... please... p-please, just let me go..." I couldn't believe all this was happening. It wasn't real.

"I fucking love you, you brainless little prick!" He said, his hand wondering lower and grasping me. I was still completely soft and when he realized that, his face dropped. He let go of me, crawling backwards and curling himself up, hiding himself from it all, scratching his cheeks to the point of bleeding. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." He mumbled.

I just looked at him, horrified. As soon as I could, I moved away from him, looking at him in the eyes, my whole body trembling. I couldn't articulate a fucking word. I just stood there. 'H-he tried to.... he tried to...'. I couldn't even think properly about what had just happened. He was sobbing really hard, writhing against the wall, and hyperventilating. He let go of his cheeks and started to scratch the insides of his wrists instead.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry Frank, please... "

"N-no…." I managed to whisper. "No". I stood up frantically and pulled the zipper of my hoodie up. 'You did not just... ' I kept saying to myself.

He choked onto his spit and continued to sob.

"No? No, Frankie, don't do this. Don't do this to me, I beg you. Please, fuck, please..."

"No," I repeated, getting closer to the door and grabbing my bag pack, my eyes fixed on him with horror. "No..."

He threw himself in front of me, grabbing my legs, and getting on his knees. "I beg you. I'll never touch you ag-gain, please, I swear, I just... Don't leave me, I love you so fucking much. Don't leave me. I be-beg you, please, please..." He buried his face in my knees, soaking my pants with his tears. "I'll k-kiss every inch of you better, I swear... please, forgive me, please... I'm not myself, you're right. I need your help-p. I need you."

"S-stay the fuck away from me..." I mumbled, my eyes fixed on the wall in front of me. I was starting to slowly process what had just happened.

"P-please Frankie... You are my everything, without you I might die. P-please, please..." He clung to my legs, kissing my kneecaps over the fabric even though I was trying to pull away.

"STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" I suddenly screamed as I moved really quick and desperately, kicking his face accidentally. He stumbled backwards, and covered his face with his hands once more, and whimpered as he touched his nose. There was blood coming down of a nostril. It was just a little, but it was still there. He looked at me with his eyes huge and wet, completely in panic. Pretty much like me. I touched my cheek, where he scratched my face, and I felt blood there too. I walked backwards, looking at him dead in the eyes, 'till I reached the door. I put my hand on the handle. He gasped.

"Please, Frankie, please... P-please... I love you. Help me. Please." He mumbled "I thought you wanted... I'd never... I swear, I'd never force you. I swear. Please, forgive me, please..."

"Y-you just t-tried to..."

"I need your help. I fucking need you." He whimpered again as he touched his sensitive nose and sobbed uncontrollably.

"Gerard… do you realize what you almost did?...." I said, not removing my eyes from his for a second, shaking from head to toe.

"Yes... No. I wouldn't have gone all the way Frankie, I swear to god. I thought you wanted it. I got out of control, you just make me go so insane... Please Frankie, I'll never touch you again if you don't want me to; just don't leave me please..."

"You don't love me, Gerard," I said, not even listening to him. "You don't fucking love me"

"STOP SAYING THAT!" He shouted. "I love you, I love you, I need you, Frank, please! Don't leave me, please... please..."

"You don't," I insisted. "You don't Gerard. Don't fool yourself. You love her, you said so"

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"YOU JUST TRIED TO FUCKING RAPE ME!!!" I screamed, squeezing my eyes shut. "HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY SAY YOU LOVE ME?!?!"

"I wouldn't have gone all the way! Frankie please, just listen to me!"

"What, Gerard? What do you want?!" I threw my backpack to the floor out of rage and crossed my arms, still shaking a bit, anger taking the control.

"I wouldn't have raped you Frankie, I wouldn't have. When I realized you... You didn't want it, I stopped. I would have never, Frankie, please. Forgive me for hurting you, please..."

"You knew I didn't want it. I was trying to pull away and telling you to stop. I was even crying. Did you need to fucking touch me to realize I actually didn't want it?"

"I was out of my mind, I'm so sorry..."

"Do you do that to her?... Does she like it rough? To play along? To fake rape?" I said bitterly.

"Stop..." He whispered.

"Does she scream? Do you spank her? Whips, maybe?"

"Stop..."

"I bet she loves it... I bet you like to tie her up and violate her every fucking night, ripping her clothes from her body desperately, she making loud sounds.... fucking whore..."

"FUCK! STOP SAYING THOSE THINGS!" He yelled, getting to his feet, causing me to take a step back. "She's a nice girl, don't talk about her like that! This is not about her! Do you think it's easy for me when you spend all the time in the world at Jamia's feet? When I was fucked up and drinking and you'd pat my back when I puked but your little J was still there when we got on stage, it was still her you claimed to love. I had to hear you telling me you loved her for years, and you fucking tattooed her name, and every time we'd have sex, the tattoo would remind me that I was your second best, and that I meant nothing. Well, I just got tired of it all, Frank! I was always the idiot who waited and did everything people asked but got nothing good out of it in return.
I'm sick of it! I just want people to respect me now like they never fucking did, because no one ever paid me any attention, and the only way I could ever make you notice me was either by being a bitch or being a suicidal motherfucker! But she wants me! And she treats me like I'm the most important thing in her life so maybe she's the most important thing in my life right back! You think it's okay to hurt me and then just rub in my face how much of a failure I am? I’ve loved you since the fucking day I met you but I was never good enough for you, so I thought maybe if I'm really confident, you'll like me? But no. That’s wrong too, isn’t it?
Every night I think about you and all I want is to touch and kiss every fucking inch of you and worship you but no, I can't do that because you're always so full of reasons why you can’t be with me! And when I met her... I felt something really strong, okay? It wasn't just pretend, it was real feeling and she liked me back and maybe I thought that... I could do what I should have done all along; be happy for you that you had Jamia, and you’d be happy for me that I had her, and we could still be good friends and shit. But you…you just get here and make me remember how unhappy I actually am. You're right, this is all a fake, but c'mon Frankie. We both know you won't break up with her. And I'm just trying to be happy despite that. I wouldn't fucking rape you. I hurt you and I'm so, so fucking sorry, but I was out of control! Now what do you want from me? You just want to fuck with my head."

I just stared at him, feeling my knees weaken. I leaned against the wall and my body just fell to the floor in a sitting position. I was really fucking tired and I had no more strength in my body to keep standing…to keep fighting.

"I've been in love with you forever, Gerard. You know that, you always knew that. I always felt that way, and I always told you I did. Things with Jamia are difficult because every fucking time I try to break up with her I feel like I'm being a complete motherfucker to her, and she doesn't deserve it. She's a really nice girl, I love her as a friend, as a human being, but not as my everything. Gerard, I love you so fucking much, and when we started to get more public about us, a few months ago at Projekt Revolution, I just thought about the whole situation better and thought I would get back home and finally talk to her and tell her what she saw in the shows was real, that I loved you and I wanted to be with you. But then you went and married Lindsey... and I don't know what to do anymore. I love you, Gerard, and I don't care what you are, if you are an alcoholic, a drug addict, a maniac depressive or a complete fucking prick to me and the others, I always will. That's why it kills me seeing you with her, that's why I'm still freaked out about what just happened. I love you. I fucking love you. I want you back, Gerard... If you want me to leave Jamia, I will. I promise I will. But you have to stop being with her too. We both need to stop fooling ourselves and each other..." I said weakly, totally defeated. I needed him more than the fucking air I breathed. Even if it killed me.

Gerard then started to crawl on all fours in my direction, and I saw behind his eyes his real self back again, the Gerard Way all people knew and fell in love with. The Gerard Way I fell in love with. Then he snuggled up to my chest, burying his head in my shirt and pulling at it with his fingers.

"Forgive me. I never meant to hurt you."

I put an arm around his body, resting my chin on his head, still shaking slightly, but relieved. It was Gerard. My Gerard.

"Forgive me too."

"I love you Frankie, I love you so fucking much... I don't want to be here anymore. Take me home?"

"Yours or mine?" I asked with a dead tone in my voice, remembering we didn't live precisely together.

"Mine... Jamia is there, at your place," he said sadly.

"Ok then... let's go."
We got up trembling and I saw on the corner of my eye that he was sloppily trying to clean the smudged blood from his face. As soon as we got our things, we stepped out of the room, completely oblivious to the fact that we were supposed to fly, and not even telling anyone we had given up the tickets. Three hours alone with him triggered all of this, and it seemed so much more than a hundred and eighty fucking minutes. It felt like a life time, and the dimension in which delayed flights and VIP rooms mattered had been left behind. All I knew was that we needed some time alone, in a parallel universe, apart from everything that our lives had turned into. Maybe that way, we would find ourselves. Back in each others' arms.

TBC

comments? *puppy eyes*

lalala, layout

2008-06-01T02:13:24Z

Hey guys! Well, the journal has been off for a few days, huh? I actually had changed the layout because my super duper, lovely, indescribable crime-partner, xpaddiex, was going to make me a new, custumized layout just because she's too good to me. Better say, she's still going to, just not for now, because she's been too busy. So, while she can't, and as I am as computer stupid as someone can be and PC's for me are only for microsoft word and the sims, I won't even try to adventure myself and got one of those impersonal, unoriginal lj layouts. It's gonna be like this for a while, so get used to it folks xD I liked this layout, it's very nostalgic. Anyways, enough with the endless layout thesis @_@
This journal is officially back to work, guys.

xxx

Frozen Redemption (one-shot)

2008-02-14T20:01:25Z

Title: Frozen Redemption
Author: citricpepper
Pairing: Frank/Gerard, implied Frank/Jamia, Gerard/Lyn-Z
Rating: PG
Beta: the oh so lovable gee4president
Genre: Angst/Romance/General
POV: Third, Frank-centric
Summary: It's too late to apologize, it's too late
Disclaimer: Gerard and Frankie are not mine, this is all a lie (it rhymed!)
Warnings: Light swearing, angst, Christmas spirit
Author's Notes: This is a songfic for the song 'Apologize', by One Republic, that was recently remixed by Timbaland (Timberland?). The mp3 file can be downloaded here

FROZEN REDEMPTION

Thousands and thousands of snowflakes cascade down the streets of the New York city, the air thick with cold, piercingly icy droplets of water perforating clouds to die on the moistened floor under so many feet below the steamed up glass window Frank Iero is currently looking through.

The sky is gray and massive, clouds mounting up like giant floating snowballs. The melancholy view pretty much matches the state of Frank’s insides that are usually so agitated; today they are lethargic and his usually bright eyes, are opaque.

He’s tired. Tired of so many things. He’s tired because he spent the whole day volunteering along with his band mates to organize donations of food and toys to be sent to underprivileged kids and even though that fed his soul with a warm sensation, it died quickly, and now he’s back to the emptiness that has been consuming him lately.

The night is coming fast; some lights can be seen on the city. It most be cold outside, he thinks indifferently, wondering when they’ll be able to go back to the hotel.

A door opens then, somewhere behind him and the lack of energy beats his curiosity; he doesn’t turn around to see who’s joining him in the small room.

“Oh, so you’re here. I’ve been looking all over for you dude.” The corners of Frank’s mouth tremble ever so slightly with a faint ghost of a smile. “Mind if I join you?” Frank just shrugs, feeling his heartstrings bound tight like they have been doing painfully frequently since the day this non-declared silence regime began.

It’d hard to keep the ice thick within their lifestyle; they have to speak to each other and constantly. But Frank reduces it to the minimum necessary and the exaggeratedly polite chit chats they exchange in the presence of their friends are useless and fake; they all know that things aren’t normal between them. They all see that Frank’s bitter and they all can guess the reason.

“It’s all done?” Frank asks, half harshly, half sadly.

“Yup. Toro bought more wrapping paper. He got this red stuff with some little Santa’s on. It was sorta cute. And we just finished putting all the boxes in the van.”

“Great.”

“Yeah, I’m feeling all politically correct and shit.” Gerard laughs to himself. “Are you tired?” Frank nods, trying to show Gerard that his presence isn’t welcome. Maybe the other even gets the cue that he should leave, but is willing to resist. Some minutes pass before Frank hears a deep pained sigh. “I was hoping we could talk, Frank.”

Frank has waited for this moment for days, weeks, months, heart picking up speed every time his mind drifted off to it. And now, that the moment’s here he feels nothing but pure lethargy and a soreness inside his chest.

“Okay.” He shrugs.

“I’ve been acting like a jackass, huh?” Frank laughs for a split second.

“Yeah, you have.”

“You’re still angry?”

I'm holding on your rope,
Got me ten feet off the ground
And I'm hearing what you say, but I just can't make a sound
You tell me that you need me
Then you go and cut me down, but wait
You tell me that you're sorry
Didn't think I'd turn around, and say...

Frank had to watch Gerard making what he considered a huge mistake, had to watch him let his neediness for care engulf him into a dangerous territory when Frank was there, willing to supply him, he had to see that ring to prove him he had lost it all, he had to take Gerard shoving him to the floor with an aggressiveness he didn’t know in front of millions of people, he had to bare with the fact that a thousand promises he believed in with every fiber of his being were lies and that he waited for nothing, he had to be discarded in silence, and talk about a marriage he chose not to witness with his voice smooth to make people believe that he actually was happy about it, when he felt like they were rubbing a sharp finger nail into a recent, ugly wound.

Yes, he’s still very angry.

“No.”

That it's too late to apologize, it's too late
I said it's too late to apologize, it's too late

“Should I believe that?” Frank shrugs again, Gerard sighs again. “Try to understand me, Frankie.” Oh, but Frank has.

All the time.

Because he was always trying to understand Gerard. Because he washed himself with guilt every night over his feelings for his best friend. Because when he met him, he thought that he had found the person that would make him happy for the rest of his life. As a matter of fact, his life seemed to be so on track, with nothing missing until the day he met Gerard and everything fell down yet again, but with a force unknown to him so far, and the sensation of fullness twisted into a terrible angst. He’s been hanging on the brink since then, torn between falling or crawling back to where it’s safe.

I'd take another chance, take a fall
Take a shot for you
And I need you like a heart needs a beat
But it's nothing new - yeah
I loved you with a fire red
Now it's turning blue, and you say...
I'm sorry like an angel
Heaven let me think was you
But I'm afraid...

His feelings towards Gerard are so powerful they’re scary; and the other’s game fed his insanity bit by bit during all this time. Because during all of these years, Gerard would say and do things to Frank that showed so much affection that Frank believed in those eyes and those words. Believed in him every time they kissed, every time Gerard cried and Frank would kiss his forehead, believed him every time he said he needed him, every time he said he loved him. It was only now that he realized how stupid he had been.

After all, in between that love and care, there were moments of cruelness and negligence with Frank’s feelings; Gerard would abuse himself and would treat other men and women just like he treated Frank. He would leave the younger absolutely desperate when he was trapped into a relationship with someone that he wasn’t in love with but didn’t want to hurt by any means and some other that would make him feel superhuman but was unwilling to live those feelings to the limit.

Gerard didn’t care, or didn’t know how to care about Frank’s feelings with the necessary attention, but Frank was never careful and never hid the dimension of his need for Gerard.

Because he would die, one hundred times over and more, for him. He would give him all the chances he needed to make it all work. He would give Gerard his heart bloody and alive, in his hand. He would put an end to his ‘official’ relationship despite how hurtful it would be, he would forget about all the bad things Gerard has done to him in the past and would forgive him ahead for the bad things he would do in the future. He would face all the consequences of being with Gerard, to be with him. If that all meant that he would finally have him for himself after all this time and agony. All the wait.

And Gerard knew it all, all along.

Still, he chose to surrender himself to a stranger. Frank waited and was patient and cried and hurt and got sick and fell into despair in the wait, dreaming of the day Gerard would finally work out his own issues, since he didn’t let Frank help him with them, and then would make Frank’s wait worth while. But he chose someone that had just strolled his way, someone that wasn’t there when he most needed, someone that hadn’t helped him become the confident person he is today and gave himself to her and showed everybody how proud he was of doing it.

And that, Frank decided, was unforgivable.

Months passed and Frank and Gerard were dragged into the worst crisis their friendship has ever tried. The time that has passed with Frank sat down and waiting for Gerard’s perdona me turned him into an ice statue.

Maybe Gerard is only doing it now because of the Christmas spirit; Frank thinks in a ravishment of bitterness.

But now it’s too late.

It's too late to apologize, it's too late
I said it's too late to apologize, it's too late

It has always been too late, in fact. Frank waited too long, for a person that never wanted him; because he thinks now that he’s found the right person and didn’t waste time. And the right person, isn’t Frank. So, his apology is shallow. And Frank’s adoring love and that burning fire that being by Gerard’s side lit up, turned into a sick sadness and emptiness, a dark venomous feeling fixing sharp inside his heart and taking him over. The good turned into bad and Frank is going to go the same way, if it doesn’t stop soon.

“I do.”

“Frankie...”

“Don’t bother.”

“Please, let me speak to you. You have no idea how much it hurts you ignoring me like this. Frank, look, I’m so-”

“Don’t.” Saying sorry is such a terrible blow to Gerard; sparing him from this pain, since it will be useless, is fair.

“Fuck, just let me say it!”

“Save it for another time Gerard, no good will come from you saying this now.”

“Frank...”

It's too late to apologize, it's too late
I said it's too late to apologize, it's too late
I said it's too late to apologize, yeah
I said it's too late to apologize, yeah

“It’s just too late, Gerard. It has always been too late.” Frank states, his voice thick with hopelessness, and his heart feels as frozen as the snow outside.

I'm holding on your rope, got me ten feet off the ground

The End

any comments? please? :)

Selfish Behavior Soundtrack

2007-12-23T17:29:11Z

Selfish Behavior's Soundtrack

Chapter 1 : Crystal Heart – Star Queen

Chapter 2 : Because I Want You - Placebo

Chapter 3 : Pierrot The Clown – Placebo

Chapter 4 : Don't Try So Hard - Queen

Chapter 5 : Tiny Vessels – Death Cab For Cutie

Chapter 6 : A Kind Of Magic - Queen

Chapter 7 : Here She Comes Now – Nirvana

Chapter 8 : It Could Be A Good Excuse – The Used

Chapter 9 : Perfect Enemy - Tatu

Chapter 10 : Cemetery Drive – My Chemical Romance

Chapter 11 : Just Drop Dead – Limp Bizkit

Chapter 12 : A Friend In Need - Placebo

Chapter 13 : Mr. Brightside – The Killers

Chapter 14 : November Rain – Guns'n' Roses

Chapter 15 : It's Now Or Never – Elvis Presley

Chapter 16 : Lunacy Fringe – The Used

Chapter 17 : The Greatest View - Silverchair

Chapter 18 : Phenomena – Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Chapter 19 : Skylines and Turnstiles – My Chemical Romance

Chapter 20 : Forbidden Zone - Misfits

Chapter 21 : Honeybear – Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Chapter 22 : Hateful – The Clash

Chapter 23 : Goodnight And Go – Imogen Heap

Chapter 24 : My List – The Killers

Chapter 25 : Read my mind – The Killers

Chapter 26 : Pour Song – Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Chapter 27 : Yesterday – Pencey Prep

Chapter 28 : Miss You Love – Silverchair

Chapter 29 : Dear Lover – Foo Fighters

Chapter 30 : Pushing Me Away – Linkin Park

Chapter 31 : Sound Effects And Overdramatics – The Used

Chapter 32 : Without You - Silverchair

Chapter 33 : Sister To Sleep – My Chemical Romance

Chapter 34 : Deny – The Clash

Chapter 35 : You Are All I've Got Tonight – Smashing Pumpkins

Chapter 36 : Disarm – Smashing Pumpkins

Chapter 37 : Buried Myself Alive – The Used

Chapter 38 : Until I Get Over You – Michelle Branch

Chapter 39 : Pretending - HIM

Chapter 40 : Smells Like Teen Spirit – Nirvana

Chapter 41 : I Hate Everything About You – Three Days Grace

Chapter 42 : Scars – Papa Roach

Chapter 43 : I Hate Myself And I Want To Die - Nirvana

Chapter 44 : Disenchanted Lullaby – Foo Fighters

Chapter 45 : Cut Up Angels – The Used

Chapter 46 : Daydream – Smashing Pumpkins

Chapter 47 : Today – Smashing Pumpkins

Chapter 48 : Dig Up Her Bones - Misfits

Chapter 49 : The Crying Tree Of Mercury – Smashing Pumpkins

Chapter 50 : With every light – Smashing Pumpkins

Chapter 51 : Yesterday's Feelings – The Used

Epilogue : My Sweet Prince - Placebo

Selfish Behavior

2007-12-23T15:40:41Z

Title: Selfish Behavior
Chapter: One
Author: citricpepper
Pairing: Frank/OFC, Mikey/OFC Frank/Gerard and a bit of Bert/Gerard
Rating: NC-17 overall
Beta: the lovely gee4president
Genre: Drama/Romance
POV: First, switches in every chapter
Summary: When you think only about yourself, the person you'll be hurting the most is you.
Disclaimer: Not real, never happened, don't sue
Warnings: Lots of swearing, homophobia, graphic homo and straight sex, strong references to cutting/drugs/boozing, mild violence, attempt of suicide, possible character death. You've been warned. Don't read if you'll feel offended by it.
Author's notes: My first ever story in English. My first ever slash fic. Please, bare with me.
Dedications: The old mcrfan forum crew and my little goldfish

Chapter one
~Frank's POV

“Where the fuck is Gerard for god's sake?” Mikey asked in a bored tone. “I'm tired and I wanna go home.”

“I saw him going outside; he didn't even answer when I called him.” Ray replied.

“Oh fuck.” I felt like an avalanche was crashing through the pit of my stomach.

“What’s wrong Frank?” They both asked, looking at me with furrowed brows.

“You know what happens when he does this,” was my answer. I knew and I looked down. I didn't even wanna verbalize what was in my mind.

“Oh shit,” Mikey groaned. I made my move to leave the room, but I felt someone grabbing my arm, making me grimace.

“Baby, where are you going?” Liah asked, alarmed. “You promised we'd hang out together tonight!”

“I know sweetheart but Gerard really needs me right now,” I muttered doing my best to keep my voice low. Liah's insecurity had always pissed me off.

“Well I need you too!” She whined. I looked deep into her green eyes, adorned by expensive mascara and eyeliner.

“Baby, c'mon, don't be upset. I promise I'll make it up for you another time.”

“Well bad news Mr. Iero.” She snapped. “If you go, there won’t be 'another time'.” She crossed her arms, stubbornly across her chest. ‘Shit’

“Liah, please don't do this okay? You know how fucked up Gerard is, he's my best friend; I need to help him now. Please try to be a bit understanding, just try,” I begged. I was so close to telling her to go and fuck herself and running to check on Gerard. I was becoming impatient. Very, very impatient.

She batted her eyelashes pleadingly for a few moments before sighing deeply.

“Fine, whatever,” She growled, grabbing her stuff and dashing from room.

“Awesome…Just fucking awesome,” I said bitterly, before turning around to go and look for Gerard.

I knew what he was doing, and that was what worried me the most. He went to ‘powder’ his nose, obviously. Just like every night. Abusing himself like there was no tomorrow, sinking into depression. I couldn't understand how he could be as deeply down as he was, seeing no light in anything, even with the band succeeding more and more each day. The only thing he cared about was getting as high as possible and waking up the next day in some ditch on the other side of the city.

We found him outside the club. He was passed out on the floor. His limp body was thrown on the landing, his dirty hair plastered on his white, perfect face, his small nose dripping the melted mixture of cocaine, joined by the red trace of dry blood staining his soft skin.

So helpless, so vulnerable, so gorgeous.

We carried him with to my old SUV.

“It's okay guys, Liah probably won't talk to again me today anyway. I'll take care of him, you can go home. Your mom will freak out if you take him home like this Mikey, you know that.”

He sighed in reply.

“Are you sure Frank?” Bob asked.

“Yeah, totally. I'll bring him over tomorrow.”

I drove back to my apartment, keeping one eye on the road and another on his unconscious form.

“Gee, wake up man,” I whispered softly in his ear when we reached my garage. He opened his gorgeous gray eyes to look me. They seemed so empty. “We need to go upstairs.”

He blindly put his arm around my neck, so I could support him and we stumbled into my apartment. He collapsed on my bed. Fuck, he was so drugged. I could easily take advantage of him. But I'd never stoop so low… Would I?
So yeah. I liked him, and not only as a good friend. I loved every single detail about him. That's why I was always kissing him when we were drunk.

He was perfect.

But, well, I had two problems. One, he was not gay. He never said that he wasn't, but he never did anything that would make me think otherwise. And I'd never have the balls to "come out of the closet". I had a beautiful girlfriend (even though I thought about Gerard when we were having sex) and couldn't bare the prospect of people knowing that I liked guys… So that was why it hurt me so bad to see him like this, so sad, so depressed. I wished I could do something, but he wouldn't talk to me about this. I wished I could help him, but he wouldn't let me and that was truly killing me.
I put on my pajamas, took his shoes and his jacket off. I resisted the temptation to take off the rest of his clothes… I was dying to see his boxers, but I would be such a sick pervert if I did that. So, I crawled into bed with him. I wrapped my arms around his waist from behind, his mint scent filling my nose. He was so warm, the skin of his arms was so soft. I wished I could do so many things with him… So many not PG things…

“Fuck Gee, you drive me insane…” I whispered to myself breathing deeply in order to keep my southern region under control.

comments? ._.

Episodes 1/10

2007-12-20T00:44:40Z

Title: Episodes
Chapter: One
Author:

citricpepper
Pairing: Gerard Way/Brian Schechter
Rating: R/NC-17
POV: Second Gerard/Brian, switches in every chapter
Summary: There are so many sides of a relationship, to find them out, you just have to look closely
Disclaimer: Although this was based in real facts and real people, I do not own or profit from the characters in this story. Don't sue, don't kill. The plot, however, is mine. Steal and I will both sue and kill you.
Warnings: Swearing, strong content, mature themes, references to drugs and suicide, graphic sex, Eliza Cuts
Dedications: Life on the murder scene for helping me with the plotline and the most amazing beta-reader in the world, gee4president

EPISODES

Episode 1: Rock Bottom For Two (July/2004)

Brian

You remember when you saw him. You remember it as vividly as if you were living it now, because you’d never felt so damn relived in all your life. He was pale as a ghost, in awful shape, as unhealthy as anyone could look- dark locks greasy, eyes dazed and empty. But still he was alive and at the time that was all that mattered to you.

The week before that day, you experienced pure hell. You were half a country away from My Chem, praying to the skies everything would be okay –or as okay as possible- when you came back. At those times, you were always startled and stressed, waiting for an emergency call at any minute. Still, you were also used to Gerard drinking like he was. Simply because he shut you out… he shut everyone out. He was utterly lost into his own poisoned world, and you, the manager, just didn’t wanna be the intruder, you didn’t wanna be a dick. You understood his reasons, and above all you understood him. You weren’t his father; you had absolutely no right to be preaching to him about anything. He was just a kid, an overgrown, rejected teenager, dealing with fame and a pressure most grown-ups couldn’t bare, with money enough to afford his outrageous lifestyle. You let him get on with it. You have to admit you even neglected him a little. You surely tried to talk to him a few times but when he raised his left hand at you, telling you he was just fine you shook it off and let him be. And that’s exactly why on that week, when those goddamn 5 Am phone calls started, with a completely wasted Gerard crying out desperately to you, you felt so guilty, useless and ashamed. You asked yourself over and over again if you had paid enough attention, you tortured your morals by feeding the idea that it was your obligation to notice the real dimension of his problem, you even wondered whether introducing The Used to My Chem had just made things worse, letting Bert contaminate the older Way with his self-destructive lifestyle. Gerard, the fruity outcast, the musical genius, the breath-taking writer, the Halloween rock god, the artist, the kid with an incredible stage presence, the one who you admired so solidly, had always been, by far, the favorite one on the ‘kids you manage’ list. You were fascinated by his glow, his fiery energy and you beat yourself up over the fact that you didn’t do enough when you saw it burning out.

On that week you became a zombie yourself. You couldn’t focus on work, you were even harsh to Bert. All you could think about was coming back and keeping Gerard from falling deeper than he already had. More than the band, more than fact that Matt was out, more than the fact that Gerard’s voice was turning into trash on stage, more than MCR falling apart from the booze; there was this kid- confused and depressed and your responsibility. Gerard had reached rock bottom. And he had reached it just when your hands were tied up by the distance.

You remember the first time he called, completely stoned, voice breaking, telling you he was scared, lost and confused. You remember you even felt honored that he had looked to you, simply the manager, to open himself and not his band mates. He could have done it to anyone, but of all people, he chose you. The genius had elected you to be his wonder wall.

Still, you thought you were gonna die of a heart attack when you heard your cell phone go off at that time, always alert and alarmed, because a part of you was always waiting for very bad news at any second. He talked, you listened. He told you everything. He poured his soul out to you between scared lines and chokes. At some point in your conversations, you’d always start crying silently, because really, it was just too sad. He told you about not being able to control his urge for booze for a long time, he told you about his need to get away, he told you all about his fears, and you swore you could almost see exactly how he buried his head in his hands and said, lips quivering to the phone ‘It’s not only booze and pills… It’s cocaine too.’ He forced the reality you avoided right down your fucking throat with his slurred, teary confessions.

And when he realized the worst; that he had a very solid, serious problem, he broke down completely. He’d call you sobbing his heart out and you remember his voice, his pleas, his heartbreaking sentences. ‘I don’t want that, Brian, I swear, I don’t wanna fuck it up, god, I just wanna run away…’ or ‘Brian, please forgive me, I never meant to… I’m so weak, I wish it had never happened… I’m fucking cutting it out, Brian, I need it all out of me…’. It tore you apart in an unexplainable way. You couldn’t go there to keep him from doing anything stupid, but sitting down and listening nearly killed you.
And the worst was when he called for the last time; his voice just so different, electric, erratic, breathless, claiming he didn’t wanna live for another second, just to witness his dreams falling apart by his fault. You had to fucking talk him out of it, and god, it was one of the hardest things you’ve ever done in your whole life. You were seriously afraid of failing him and yourself. You knew if you did, you’d just have to kill yourself to, as a way of punishment for your uselessness. You talked to him, drifted away by so many different drugs in such an absurd amount, for two hours straight on, before calling Jerry and waiting, walking from one side of the room to the other, for his call. And he called, he said they took a walk, Gerard was okay, passed out in his bunk and he said he wanted to be clean and sober.

You shook faintly for hours after that, cursing yourself for everything to no end. You still needed to see Gerard alive to assume it was true. You needed that visual irreversible truth, because the chaos and shock you went through was too overwhelming.

And that’s why when you saw him, so fucking worn out, three days after the almost tragic morning, you can still remember every trace of that moment. Because you felt like it was not only Gerard who was being re-born; but also you.

comments, please? they make me smile a lot :)

Mistakes in Succession (one-shot)

2007-10-17T19:09:27Z

Title: Mistakes in Succession
Author: citricpepper
Pairing: Gerard/Bert, mention of Gerard/Lyn-Z
Rating: R
POV: Third, Gerard-centric
Summary: When you realize a nightmare is real, it might be too late
Disclaimer: Never happened (you don't know how glad I am it haven't!)
Warnings: Swearing, strong content, character death
Dedications: My super-beta Jess (gee4president) and my goldfish, for who I wrote this to

“So, when I looked at it, ‘cause I looked, right? There was nothing there, just like the night before. I mean, I thought I was losing my mind or something.” Gerard babbled the same old story about his paramour mansion adventures and misfortunes. If he didn’t have those glasses on, his interested crowd (consisting now of the Thrice members), consumed by the vocalist’s charisma, would see his olive eyes glistening; just like they always did when he was the center of attention.

“Gerard, there’s this call…” He heard Brian call him from behind his shoulder, but dismissed the manager with brush of his pallid hand, arrogantly. “You might wanna pick up, Gerard…”

“Is it Lyn?” He asked, still not turning his head to see Brian.

“No, it’s not, but--”

“Then no, I don’t think I do want to pick up, thank you.” Gerard smirked, taking a deep breath to retake his speech. “So, fellers, like I was saying…”

“It’s really important, Gerard.”

“For Christ sake!” The vocalist snapped, finally removing his Gucci sunnies and turning around to face his manager, livid. “Who the fuck is it? Huh? What can be this important? Is it Mikey? My parents? My grandma, from heaven?” Brian shook his head no. “Then no, I don’t wanna pick up.”

“Gerard, its Quinn.” Brian said in a weak voice. Gerard’s eyes got wide in disbelief.

“Who?”

“Quinn. Quinn Allman. You really need to pick up.”

***

“Where is he? Where the fuck is he??” Gerard asked for the fiftieth time, sweat dripping from his eyebrows, breath coming in jagged pants. The loud siren was ringing in his ears, the blurred sound from hundreds of different voices shooting from every direction around him, the mass of colorful lights were making him dizzy, and nauseous.

“Gerard try to calm down…”

“Calm down? YOU’RE ASKING ME TO CALM THE FUCK DOWN? FUCK ME WITH THAT, ASSHOLE! I WANNA SEE HIM AND I WANNA SEE HIM NOW! CHRIST!” Gerard screamed at the top of his lungs, his frustration getting the best of him.

“Gerard, they’re trying to take him out of the ironworks and it doesn’t look good…” Brian tried to argue in a soothing voice.

“I DON’T CARE!” He screamed again. He looked into Brian’s very vivid green, tear-covered eyes. “If you have any care for me Brian, any care at all, you’ll take me there.”

Brian’s bottom lip quivered for an instant or two.

“Okay. Follow me.”

***

Gerard could see it. It was like a horror movie being played inside his head; over and over again, non-stop. He could see, oh how he could see as the dying man in front of him said goodbye to his band mate, that characteristic grin and laugh on his lips as he said ‘See ya later, princess!’, the way he winked and checked out Quinn’s ass until he got into his apartment building, they way his hands went back to the wheel, slightly trembling, his blue eyes bloodshot, his now blonde hair smelling like cigarettes.

He could see the exact moment when Bert’s drunken mind told him he needed more booze. His mind was never a good adviser anyway. He was a passionate man, always working better with emotions than rational thoughts. His brain betrayed him again that night and told him to get his fucking eyes off the road, bend into the passenger’s seat, to grab his tequila bottle, wrapped up in a cheap brown bag. He saw the way those plush, full, lips that were so many times under Gerard’s tongue, between his teeth, dancing across his ivory skin, touched the glass of the bottle at the same time his car got out on to the right side of the road, at the same time it hit the other vehicle that was coming in the opposite direction. The family; father, mother, and the two little girls were taken to the hospital, with serious injuries but no risk of death. Their brand new black Land Rover was strong and compact; it trashed Bert’s old dodge. He read it all, written on the other man’s face, under the shreds of glass piercing his skin, the blood seeping from the wounds, the same dirty hair plastered all over his face, eyes screwed shut, neck bent to one side in an awkward angle, hands still gripping firmly at the wheel, the front part of the car turned into a confused mass of steel.

Paramedics were trying to get him out of there, but seemed like his legs were smashed by a part of the car carcass.

“Bert… please… Don’t be… Don’t be… Please…” Gerard pleaded, voice weak. “If there is such thing as god…Prove to me that you are up there and fucking save him.” He whispered, eyes screwed shut. “Fucking save him right now.”

“GERARD! Gerard, Brian told me… How are you?” It was Frank, running towards him.

“If he dies Frankie…” Gerard said through gritted teeth, once his best friend reached him. “If he dies… I’m never gonna be able to breathe again.”

“Gerard, you’re not thinking straight…”

“NO! Look at me, Frankie. Fucking look at me. You know what happened between us… If this is my punishment for being so fucking petulant…Then I’m gonna take my punishment. He can’t die, Frankie… Please look at me and tell me he won’t die. “

“Gee…”

“NO PULSE!” One of the paramedics shouted to the skies. “NO PULSE ON THIS ONE ANYMORE! CALL THE MORTUARY WAGON!”

“Okay fellers, let’s move! We have another car crash two blocks from here. Three people injured, let’s move, let’s move!”

Those words made sense to Gerard and he sank to the floor, a shout of pure pain ripping from his insides.

His heart was also crushed between ironworks; his soul and core also dead, along with Bert. His best friend.

His true love.

comments? :D

Walk Away Your Savior (one-shot)

2007-10-17T18:58:33Z

Title: Walk Away Your Savior
Author: citricpepper
Pairing: Gerard/OFC
Rating: R
POV: 1st
Author Notes: This is extremely offensive to Gerard and even the fans. I mean it. Don't read to come scream at me about it; this is fiction, it's supposed to be the story of a dream, it never happened and I don't by any means believe Gerard does this things and no, the girl in there isn't me.
Warnings: Swearing, hint of sexual abuse, un-beta'd
Summary: Not all heroes are genuine
Disclaimer: As fake as it can get. Really.
Dedications: My crime-partner (xpaddiex) for always protecting me when I need and not killing me over this :}

Walk Away Your Savior

It had changed. Now it wasn't the dream anymore. It was blurred and he was coercing me. I was in the position most girls like me would dream to be, then why the hell did I hate it so bad?

I stared into his eyes and my insides twitched with a sudden urge of running away from there, fear and disappointment growing all over my limbs. I evidenced they scared me and that I never wanted them as company for real. They were too… too graphic, and I didn't like it as I thought I did. I didn't like the look Gerard had in his eyes, it was not soft or funny, it was fucking intimidating, it was scary and it was making me want to cry.

Right then and there I realized I didn't know him. I thought about his every single aspect, still, I knew nothing about Gerard, the person. I had fantasized about being his friend, having his company so funny and light, about all his elegant arrogance, I let my imagination wonder until sneaking into backstage and catch him in Frank in the middle of a hot kiss. Still, those images were nothing; they meant nothing before the solid, real Gerard staring into me. They were suppositions; and from what I could notice, they had nothing to do with the real man I had met that day. He felt, looked and sounded mean, careless and from all about a pretty fucking media fake. Suddenly I wanted to run back home like a frightened little girl and back to all those comforting images I had in my mind, sit in front of the computer and forget -just forget- about that day. But I knew I couldn't go away from that smashing truth; my teenagers' hopes and naïve hysteria were quickly fading. I wanted to cry. I seriously did.

"What is wrong?" He cooed. "You didn't like what I said?" No I didn't, and I fucking hated his voice that way too. It didn't sound girly, raw and funny like I used to hear it before; it sounded adult and provocative. I felt really young. I felt like a kid. I wanted to get back to my toys. I didn't like the suggestive way he was putting on. He looked old, and enormous. I was so tiny. This was crazy.

"I-I don't-" I stammered. "I didn't. P-please, stop. Let me go" I begged weakly. But I evidenced it wasn't gonna be so easy.

"Why, baby?" He didn't call me 'sugar' like I wished he had. God, that was so scary. I was so scared. "Isn't this what you wanted? To be a groupie?" His tone was too sensual and too strong. I felt dirty, like he was staining my innocence.

"NO!" I practically yelled. Fuck, I never wanted to be that. And I remembered he said his band didn't have groupies. That he didn't want women to be objectified. How could he lie so much? Didn't he feel guilty at all? Did he do it to a bunch of little girls like me? Bile rose from my stomach at the next thought: Did they like it? Did he think I wanted to play by acting so freaked out? My god, he was so sick. I felt utterly disappointed. I wanted to go home and wash it all back. I didn't know what to believe in anymore. The only thing that made sense in my fucking life was a fake. My world was falling apart. Didn't he see it? Didn't he see his attitude was breaking me in half?

His eyes narrowed at my yelp. They didn't seem pretty anymore; in fact nothing about him seemed pretty at the moment. He was showing himself as a perverted monster, willing to tear me apart anytime. I covered my body with my hands. That was a fucking nightmare, it had to be. I had to wake up safe in my bed, believing that he was my hero; my mentor and everything would be fine. God, why was he doing that?

"And why the fuck not?!" He growled, making me whimper. "Isn't that what you all want?"

"N-no, Gerard, you are my mentor, just" I tried to explain. He had to listen, he had to understand, he had to let me go. But he let out a cold laugh.

"Mentor? Fuck, that's new to me. What, are you into kama sutra and this kinda stuff? Because if you were, that would be fucking hot." He wasn't getting it at all. He was hurting me like no other had done before.

"Please, Gerard. Just p-please. I'm a kid. Don't do this." At that moment I didn't know what the hell I was begging him not to do, all I knew is that I needed to run away from that place. Or not. At that point, it was already ruined for me. It didn't make any more sense.

"What are you talking about? What do you think I'm gonna do?" The magic, the magic they had for me was gone.

"I don't know, I don't know. Just, fuck!" I had to let that out, I needed it to go. I buried my head into my hands, fingernails scratching the skin of my forehead. It hurt so much. My hero, my savior, was nothing but a fucking idiot.

"You want it. You know it. They all did-sooner or later." I looked up to him.

"I'm only a kid Gerard. I swear, this is nothing like I imagined…"

He came closer, my body became completely stiff. The idea of him near me -before so pleasing- was now disgusting.

"Are you telling me you are a virgin, doll?" I felt my cheeks flushing. He wasn't supposed to say vulgar stuff like that. It was embarrassing and choking. I didn't answer. "You wanna lose it to a fucking dickhead of your high school, is that it? C'mon, it will happen anyway. It will be fun, I'm telling you". I shook my head frantically. No, no, no, this shouldn't be going on like this at all! I felt weak. It didn't matter anymore. Everything had lost purpose. Again. "C'mon, doll. I'm better then these boys your age, I can assure you. C'mon. Don't fight it, you know you want it.”

I felt my eyes watering. I wanted to go home, I wanted to be killed, I wanted to wash away all the disappointed and shame sticking to my skin.

"God…" I whispered, feeling his hands going up my side. I didn't want that. His touch made me cringe. He couldn't touch me like that, he couldn't be that sinful. It was not the person he was supposed to be!

"That's right, don't fight me. Let go, you know you want too."

No. I didn't. But he won anyway.

the end

We Laughed So Hard It Would Sting (one-shot)

2007-10-17T18:30:54Z

Title: We Laughed So Hard it Would Sting
Author: citricpepper
Pairing: Frank/Gerard, sort of
Rating: PG-13
POV: Third
Summary: And as we ran from the cops, we laughed so hard it would sting
Disclaimer:They are not mine, I don't know them, this isn't real, Frank doesn't smoke pot (?)
Author Notes:Slightly based on the lyrics of disenchanted
Warnings: References to drugs, swearing, cemeteries
Dedications: Jess (gee4president), my lovely beta and my crime-partner Nady(xpaddiex) for helping me so much with everything ^^, and my partners of adventures in cemeteries <3

We Laughed So Hard It Would Sting

“Mikey did you remember to bring the lantern?”

“Of course. I don’t wanna bump into a grave and free any bad spirits,” the boy stated from behind his thick nerdy glasses, his voice full of fear. The others laughed loudly.

“You should be afraid of the living Mikey, they can harm you. But the dead…” The boy’s older brother with dark hair and big greenish eyes sighed dreamily. “The dead have moved on. They wouldn’t waste their time coming back to this shit hole just to scare you”

“Mom would freaking kill us if she knew what we’re doing, Gerard.”

“And that’s why you won’t say anything, right?” The shorter guy said, giggling through his nose and grabbing Mikey by the arm, making him bend a little so he could mess with his hair playfully.

“Hey!” He complained.

“You guys, give him a break, it’s his first time.” The tallest one spoke for the first time. “When I brought you here for the first time, Gerard, you were nearly pissing your pants.”

“My dear Toro, I never told you but I was actually afraid that you were bringing me here just to sodomize my poor virgin sexy ass.”
All of them burst into laughing.

“We’re here.” The one called Gerard pointed out, as they reached the black clammy metal gates of the Belleville Memorial Graveyard.
“Fucking finally. I’m a smoker. I can’t afford long walks.”
“Shut the fuck up, Frank. You only started smoking three weeks ago.”
“See? My lungs are weak!”

“That’s it?” Mikey interrupted, frightened, looking at the gates. “We simply climb in?”

“It’s easy Mikey, really,” Toro said back, climbing onto the gates like a big spider to show the nervous looking boy how it was done. “C’mon, Mikes.” He encouraged once he was inside the cemetery.

“Go on kid. It’s pretty safe, I promise.” His older brother reassured. Mikey took a deep breath and climbed in, lighting the lantern as soon as he had landed.

“Not here! People in the houses will see! We know the path and it’s not that dark, save it for when we are inside.”

“Urgh. Okay.” He whimpered.

“Uh, Gerard? A little help here perhaps?” Frank asked, pointing at the gates. Gerard chuckled.

“Anytime honey.” He answered, bending himself down so Frank could climb onto his shoulders and be lifted up, jumping easily into the cemetery. Gerard then jumped in, landing gracefully, which was quite impressive for a guy his weight.

“What did you tell your mom?” Toro asked as they walked into the cold mist and contoured the graves.

“Well, the usual. We’d go to a pub and then crash at your place.”

“She didn’t want to let me come, though.” Mikey told, fixing the position of his glasses.

“True. I told her there was a gig and underage kids would be allowed in.”

“I still don’t know why I agreed to do this.”

“Mikey, Mikey, c’mon, cheer up! You are about to be part of the gang!” Frank said giggling again.
And that they were. A fucking gang. A pretty weird one, too. It started when Toro and Gerard had come to the local cemetery just to smoke weed without being bothered; since the West Hudson Park they used to do it in was being constantly watched by the cops. They were both nineteen at the time. A long time after, a pretty enthusiastic Frank had joined them. Just because he liked to live by the buzz; and getting high into a cemetery was pretty fucking buzz-ish, don’t ya think? Toro met him because of his band; and even being a mere fifteen year-old kid, he suited Toro and Gerard’s company perfectly. So perfectly that he was secretly wondering if Gerard and him were close to breaking a sort of imaginary line between sweet friendship and something more.
Getting high in the cemetery, among the shadows and the graves became a type of ritual between them. A religious ceremony, almost. Accomplished every Friday night, or, whenever they felt like it.
There were rules, too. It was a secret, and they weren’t allowed to bring anyone else to their meetings. No matter how many girls they dated (because they dated, and they dated a lot) it was a rule that they should respect the Friday night religious escape without any questions, otherwise she would be dumped before she could notice what happened.
One year came and gone, and still, they kept doing it; despite Frank’s young age, Gerard’s psychopathic, anti-social tendencies and Toro’s rock’n’roll ministrations.
But that night, however, was special. For the first time in one year, they would admit another person to join them, welcome another member into their gang. Gerard had talked them into this by, using all his persuasive talents, telling them he could see Mikey had the potential to be with them, and plus, he liked his brother too much to just shut him out like that.
So, there they were. At their favorite spot; the big family tomb placed in the confines of the cemetery. And they all took their usual places; Gerard laid on the tomb, looking straight at the stars, Toro sat on the ground resting his back on the big stone cross in front of the tomb and Frank soon climbed up the big three beside it, swinging back and forth on his strong arms. Mikey just bit his lip, feeling rather uncomfortable.

“I don’t see the big appeal in this anyway.” He stated, lightening the lantern and sitting by his brother’s feet.

“You’re kiddin’ me, right bro? Just, shh” He said, raising his pale index finger to the air. “Pay attention to this silence. It just pure fucking peace, ya’ know? Doesn’t it relieve you that one day it’ll all end and you’ll be able to rest?”

“Don’t listen to your brother, Mikey, he’s nuts. Here, have some, it’s better.” Toro said, passing him a smoking, fat joint.

“I only begin to understand your brother’s brain when I’m past the half mark of this bottle.” Frank said smiling and showing Mikey a bottle of tequila. He opened it and took a generous sip, not even making a face.

“Mm, sugar, could I have some?”

“Of course, Gee. For you anything.” He winked at the older one, lowering himself so he could hand him the booze. Gerard blew him a kiss before taking his own sip.

“Look at the stars, Mikey.” Gerard told his brother. “Do you believe one day I’ll be able to shine like them?”

“No, Gerard, I don’t. ‘Cause to me you already shine more than them.” Gerard felt his cheeks burning and his lips curling into a little, discreet smile.

“Would you mind passing me the booze as well, ladies? I’m fucking freezing, I could use some alcohol now.” Ray grinned.

“Only if you give me a cigarette. I can feel my body craving nicotine already.”

“Stop being such a poser Frankie, and hand me the damn bottle already. Besides, I didn’t bring any cigarettes; I’m not a regular smoker like you.” He teased.

“I have some.” Gerard said.

“Ooh, could you give me one, Gee-gee?”

“No. But I can teach you a different way of smoking.” He answered, looking for his Marlboro pack and lightening one. He beckoned to his friend to come closer and took a drag of the cigarette. “Open your mouth” he commanded, leaning really close to his friend’s open mouth, so he could blow the smoke just inside it. Frank closed his eyes as the smoke went down his trachea. “See? Much better this way.”

“Oh, fuck you Gee, one of these days you’ll turn me into a fag.” Frank giggled.

“Sugar, your nickname is pansy, I won’t have that much work.” He winked at him again and gave him the cigarette.

“Hey, shh!” Toro hissed. “Shut the fuck up all of you, did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Mikey whimpered.

“Put the light out, Mikey.”

“Why?” The youngest boy asked, his features radiating horror.

“Just do it!”

“You see, there, again.” Toro said, raising a finger to the air to emphasize the statement.

“Shit, somebody called the cops again!”

“I told you both to keep quiet, didn’t I?”

“Wait, what will we do?” Mikey asked scared.

“What do you think, Mikey?” Frank asked. “We fucking run!”
And with that, the four young guys shot running among the graves like their lives depended on it, climbing sloppily onto walls and jumping out of the cemetery, only to be caught by the police lanterns like fucking a deer in the headlights.

“Fuck!”

“Hey, you there! Hold still!” Said the cop’s voice, amplified by the megaphone.

“Let’s go, now!” Toro blurted out, the four of them retaking their previous pace, running down streets and bouncing fences, laughing as loud as hell. Once they reached a safe spot, they all stopped, laughing so hard their insides felt sore. The pot made their reactions over exaggerated, loud bursts of laughter ripping from their throats for quite a while, the hiccups high pitched and uncontrolled. Frank bent forward, bracing himself on his knees, as Toro massaged his belly. Several minutes later, when they all were able to control their laughing, Mikey asked rather breathlessly;

“Jesus. Does it always happen?”

“Sometimes” Toro answered.

“But you should be glad, Mikey.”

“And why is that?” He retorted, scrunching up his nose in disagreement.

“Now you are part of the gang.”

THE END

so, comments? :)

Loveline (one-shot)

2007-10-17T18:24:11Z

Title: Loveline
Author: citricpepper
Pairing: Frank/Gerard :}}
Rating: NC-17
POV: Third
Author Notes: None really
Warnings: Swearing and... ever heard of PWP? This is it
Summary:What happens when you put together two teenagers and a phone?
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my dog
Dedications: Jess (gee4president), the best beta-reader in the world and my crime-partner (xpaddiex) for inspiring me to dirty-talk ;}

LOVELINE

“Hello?”
“Hey babe.”
“Hey Frankie. What’s up?”
“Not much. You okay?”
“Yeah, sure. Just chilling.”
“You know, Gee…”
“Mmh?”
“What you said the other day… That you liked phone-sex… Was it for real?”
“Mm, I don’t know. I’ve never done actually. Why do you ask?”
“I’ve never done it either. I was just wondering… Since we both agree it’s a little too early to have real sex, we could maybe well… Try it?”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I’m home alone.”
“Well, yeah me too.”
“So?”
“We can try, yeah?”
“You know how to talk dirty?”
“I read a lot of hentai. I can try.”
“Okay…”
“So, ah… What are you wearing?”
“Just my boxers.”
“What color?”
“White.”
“Hot.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“What about you?”
“Hm, jeans and that t-shirt you like. The one Mikey gave me.”
“The black one?”
“Yeah.”
“You know I’d love to unbutton it?”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Like really slowly.”
“Then why don’t you go ahead and do it?”
“Gee… You are making me hard.”
“Fuck.”
“Can I touch myself?”
“Y-yes.”
“Can I imagine it’s your hand?”
“Oh yes please. But moan for me.”
“Uh-huh… Mmm… Like this?”
“Y-yeah…”
“Am I making you hard too?”
“Yeah. I’m fucking throbbing already.”
“Then touch yourself too.”
“Oh fuck Frank… Mmm, babe, how do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Make me crazy like this. Like the other day in the theater, that you were with that tight pants and you were practically giving your lolly-pop head… Damn.”
“Why? You’d like me to go down on you?”
“Oh hell yes.”
“You want me to suck you off?”
“Mm…”
“You do?”
“Uh-huh…”
“Can I do it now?”
“Ah! Stop saying things like that… I’m gonna come in my pants.”
“Then take them off.”
“Mmm…”
“Gee?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m only on my boxers touching my cock thinking about you, so can you please say something?”
“Oh fuck. Okay. Just lemme think… Okay. Fuck, Frank, thinking about that makes me so fucking hot…”
“How hot?”
“How hot? So hot I just wanna bend you over and fuck you good.”
“Mm, don’t stop, keep saying.”
“You don’t wanna know.”
“Oh trust me; I do.”
“I wanna get myself inside you. I want you to moan my name while I come inside you. I wanna make you come. Fuck, I think I could fuck you forever.”
“Then do it. Come over here, take my boxers off and fuck me forever.”
“Babe…”
“What?”
“I’m so fucking hard right now.”
“I am too. Are you gonna do something about it?”
“I am. Stop touching yourself.”
“What?”
“Just do it.”
“O-okay… Umpfh…”
“Missing it?”
“Yeah Gee… It was so good…”
“You naughty boy… I want you to run your hands over your body where and how I tell you to, okay?”
“O-okay.”
“And I want you to do it thinking that they are my hands, okay?”
“Okay.”
“First, run your fingers on lips, close your eyes and imagine me kissing you.”
“I love to kiss you Gee.”
“I love to kiss you too babe.”
“Can I suck my finger and pretend it’s your cock too?”
“Yeah. You can. And then put your fingers on that perfect little neck of yours and scratch it like I was biting on it.”
“Mmm…”
“Good?”
“Yeah. Good..”
“Now move your hand lower, to your nipples and tease them. Okay?”
“Y-yeah…”
“Mm, Frankie…”
“Gee…”
“Yeah babe?”
“Unbutton your shirt like I was doing it. Please.”
“Okay. I’m doing it.”
“Mmm… Can I move my hand down?”
“Yeah, yeah you can. ‘Til your happy trail. Fuck, I wanna run my tongue there. Imagine it’s my tongue, ‘kay babe?”
“Your tongue doing what?”
“My wet, hot tongue dancing across your skin, and under the waistband of your boxers…”
“You make me go insane baby….”
“All I want is to make you scream.”
”Then do it. Do it now.”
“Frank, I’m so hard. I’m so hard for you… I wanna hear you moan…”
“Then make me moan…”
“Fuck! Take off your boxers and spread your legs.”
“Hmm… Doing it.”
“Done?”
“Yeah…”
“Fuck, you must be looking so good… All naked.”
“And my cock throbbing for you.”
“Yeah. You are mine.”
“I am yours.”
“Then let me fuck you.”
“Only if you do it really hard.”
“Fucking whore.”
“Want me to be one?”
“Shit, that’s it. On all fours.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Turn the fuck over and get in all fours for me now.”
“Okay. Done.”
“Really? Fuck, you must be looking so fucking hmm…. So fucking hot. It makes me wanna come just thinking about it.”
“Don’t you think it’s better to come inside me?”
“I’m gonna touch you. You can imagine it, but don’t you dare touch yourself.”
“Okay…”
“I’m gonna touch you, tease you, jerk you off… Moan for me?”
“Uh-huh… Mmm… Gee, lemme get you out of those pants, please… So we can both be naked…”
“Go ahead and do it.”
“Then take them off for real.”
“Okay, hold on a sec then.”
“’Kay.”
“Back.”
“You naked?”
“Yeah.”
“For me?”
“Yeah.”
“You hard?”
“Yeah.”
“For me?”
“Fuck yeah Frankie, for you…”
“Can I touch you? Can I suck you off? Can I run my tongue all over your body?”
“Uh-huh…”
“I wanna taste your pre-come…”

“Fucking slut…”
“I like it when you call me like that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah…”
“Good. Because that’s what you are.”
“Uuuh….”
“More. Moan for me, slut.”
“Oh, Gee… Mmm…”
“Shit you are so sexy. I wanna fuck you.”
“I’m on all fours, what the hell are you waiting for?”
“Tell me what you want…”
“I want you to shove your cock up my tight, virgin ass right now. I want you to make me see stars. Do it. Take me.”
“That’s what I’m doing right now… Is it good?”
“Yeah… Can I touch myself now?”
“Not yet…”
“Gee….”
“I’m fucking you hard right now… Hmm…”
“Fuck, Gee. You are making me wanna finger myself now.”
“…”
“Mmm….”
“Do it.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Yes, please do it.”
“Okay. Ungh.”
“What? It hurts?”
“Not really… It’s just a bit odd.”
“Fuck, Frankie, I think I’m gonna die just imaging you on all fours and fucking fingering yourself…”
“It’s weird…”
“Pretend it’s my cock… Does that help?”
“Yeah. Yeah it does.”
“Move your finger, baby…”
“Ummm…”
“I’m fucking you right now. You feeling it?”
“Yeah…”
“Yeah? Is it good?”
“Uh-huh… Oooh, Gee… Let me touch myself…”
“Okay. Okay, go on…”
“Ummm….”
“Touch yourself too… I wanna hear you come…”
“Mmm….”
“Oh, uuh… Gee… Fuck me harder…”
“I’m gonna pound you into the fucking mattress, you whore…”
“I’m your whore.”
“Uuh…”
“Gee… I’m gonna come soon…”
“Me too babe… Just moan my name when you do it okay?”
“Uh-huh… Come inside me Gee…”
“Ungh…”
“Mm, baby… Fuck me… Uungh, Gee… GEE!”
“AH! Frankie, you are mine, mine, all fucking mine! AH!”
“Fuck.”
“That was good.”
“Hell yeah. It was.”
“Frankie… I love you baby.”
“You do?”
“Y-yeah. I do.”
“You know Gee? I love you too.”

the end

comments? :p

Heartbreaking (one-shot)

2007-10-17T18:19:08Z

Title: Heartbreaking
Author: citricpepper
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
Rating: PG-13
POV: Gerard's
Summary: I'm sorry, I swear I didn't mean to do it
Disclaimer: Not real, never happened (:
Warnings: Swearing, self-depreciation, very light references to cutting/boozing/drugs
Dedications: My beta Jess (gee4president) and the part of me that's scorpio

Heartbreaking

“Why do you keep doing this Gerard?”

Don’t call me that.

Please.

“Tell what the fuck is wrong!”

I can't babe, I'm so sorry

I can only shift on the bed.

Like a helpless homeless puppy

I feel so weak.

So small.

You take my words from me.

“You know damn well I can't keep watching you hurt like this! Show some fucking self-respect!”

Don't yell

I beg you

Don't be angry, I'm sorry, I'm a monster, I'm sorry

I don't deserve you

It's choking me

You're too good for me

I'm a helpless case

But babe, I swear, I didn't mean to

Oh please don't look at me like that

“What else do you need? What else do you fucking need to be happy?”

I need you

But I have you

I push you away, I know, I'm sorry

I don't know why, I wish I did

I wish I could stop

I wish I were strong, just like you are

“Tell me! I will do whatever you want! I just need you to be happy! Otherwise I'll give up. I'm nearly giving up, Gee...”

Don't whisper

I hate it when you sound hurt

I'm supposed to be the weak one, not you

I'm sorry; you're just too good for me

I wish I could, I can't

“Don't make me give up on you babe... Please...”

I don't want to

I swear I don't

But I don't know how to fix it

I don't, I'm sorry

Please forgive me

Forgive me for not being good enough

I love you, is the only thing I know...

“Tell me what I have to do to help you... Anything for you...”

Hold me!

But I can't talk

The words won't come out

I need you to know I just need you close to me

Don't ever let me go sweetie

You are my oxygen

Don't ever go away

I love you

To fucking death

I need you here

I need you with me

I need you to fix my heart

Only you can make me feel okay

But the words won't come out

Why aren't they coming out?

“Fucking talk to me!”

I'm sorry, I can't, I won't

I'm so weak

I can't make you happy, I know that

But please, don't leave me

You promised you never would

I'm so sorry

So sorry I can't speak

The tears are streaming down

They are braver than my vocal chords I guess

They burn my cheeks

But not like I'm burning inside

To know I hurt you

It kills me

“Don't cry. Don’t you fucking cry.”

Your yelling makes me cry even harder

Don't you see that?

I wish you could fix me

But the words won't come out

“Babe, please don't cry...”

You are coming closer

Did you see it?

Did you read my expression?

Did you get I need you?

Oh god, thank God

I'm a monster

I'm deformed

But in your arms I feel more human

I feel like I have reason to exist

You make my life worth while babe

I swear I didn't mean...

“Shh, babe, it's okay...”

It's not okay

You're so warm, you make me cry harder

Because you are perfect...

And it's never okay

It never will be

But I want it to be

I need it to be

I don't wanna do anything wrong again

I don't want alcohol again

I don't want cocaine again

I don't want that cold blade again

All I want is you

Is us

Us to be okay

Why can't we be okay?

Oh I know

It's me, always me

I always ruin everything

I'm sorry

So, so sorry.

“I just wish I could understand you Gee... So I can help you... But how can I help you if you won't even talk to me?”

I'm trying!

But the words won't come out!

It's not my fault, I swear, I'm sorry, I didn't mean...

“Babe, please, stop sobbing like this, it's okay...”

I wish you could read my mind

Because right now my lips are glued together

I wanna say I'm sorry

That's all I need you to know

I'm sorry, forgive me

I love you, I didn't mean to

“Honey, please, calm the fuck down, I love you.”

I love you too

You enlighten me

I adore you

I worship you

You are my everything

I swear, I only need you

God, I wish I could talk...

“Gee please, talk to me”

I’m trying

Don't you see I'm trying?

Because I am!

But I'm paralyzed

I'm choked

You have to unchoke me

I beg you, please

Give my air back

“Gee, don't do this, talk to me, look at me at least...”

Oh your eyes

I so love them

They are so gorgeous

They are so perfect

Just like you

God, oh god

I love you

I love you so much

“Oh Gee...”

I must look so miserable

So desperate

You give that pity smile

I hate pity, but coming from you I stand it

I accept anything coming from you

Your lips brush mine

Oh my fucking god

I love you lips, they are so soft and full

I love your taste

Kiss me deeper please,

Unchoke me

You do, oh god

Now I can talk

I'm sorry I have to push you away

And yell

Yell I'm so sorry

That I love you

And I startle you

But I need you to know

That I didn't mean that

I swear I didn't

“I know Gee... Just forget about it... C’mere”

I love you.

I swear I didn't mean it.

comments?

Leave While You Can (one-shot)

2007-10-17T18:08:28Z

Title: Leave While You Can (one-shot)
Author: citricpepper
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
Rating: PG-13
POV: First, Gerard-centric
Summary: When you go, would you have the guts to say 'I don't love you like I loved you yesterday'?
Disclaimer: Not real, never happened, Gerard is healthy and still a happy smoker :}
Author Notes: This is kind of death-obsessed
Warnings: Swearing, severe illness
Dedications: My lovely beta Jessy, gee4president, for saying nice lies about my stories, a school paper I had last year and mcr, for writing the lyrics for "I don't love you" and "Cancer"

Leave While You Can

One more day.
I look over the clock; 9am. I know it won't take long until you walk in, taking off your jacket, greeting me with a smile. And I also know it won't take long until the nurse walks in, telling you that you know it's too early for visiting and that you are stubborn but she'll say this giggling 'cause she has already given in to you. I know the daily torture will begin soon; first with the needles and the medication that is making my veins so weak, burned, used; then, the sharp, nauseous pain, the horrible fevers and the deliriums. And at the end of the day, there’ll be stabbing pain all over my body, making me a disabled man. Disable of everything. Disable of dignity.
I'm a genius. Two more minutes and you come in. A tired smile on your face, you greet me and put your black jacket on the chair, but you don't give me that peck on the cheek anymore. I don't even know how I look. I asked for no mirrors two months ago when my hair started to fall, but I can read in your expression that I look awful. My hair is shallow and opaque; I have wounds on the corners of my mouth, pale skin. There is no sign of life in my expression, nothing that can tell me from a corpse except for the cries or the wincing pain.
I can hardly say hi; every word I pull out of my mouth makes me so thirsty that the last time I tried to talk to mama I drank a whole bottle of water and threw it all up the next minute. I can't eat anything anymore. Not because I don't have hunger, but because my own body rejects every kind of food. I think that if it could, it'd reject all the medication as well.
It's not a beautiful scene you know; a grown man throwing up the jelly all over the sheets like a baby. I told the nurse a million times that I can't eat, but she doesn't fucking listen.
I look at you. Oh my god, you are beautiful. Every inch of you is beautiful. Every time I look at you I feel so glad, so happy that I had you for my own for so long. But then I feel sadness floating around inside me; we had the perfect days. The perfect love. And now I just ruined it all. I think it'd be better if I were already dead, hit by a car or something like that. So I wouldn't have to deal with that look in your eyes. That's what hurts me the most.
You have dark under eye circles and look exhausted. I know my disease is draining you of energy even thought you always say you're fine. But you aren't. Far from it. Because I can see the disgust and disappointment sparkling in your eyes. You used to say that I was the most beautiful creature alive. Now when you look at this ghost on this hospital's bed, what do you feel?
I pray. Pray for the day you'll get sick of all this; that you’ll run away from me, the hospital, everything. 'Cause I don't want you to see me like this anymore; I need you to go away, to remember me like I was. I can't take you witnessing my slowly painful walk to the end. It's killing me more than the cancer, more than the needles, more than anything. Because you loved me. I felt it. And now I can see that love fading away. Surrendering. So go, please go. Before it fades completely. I need you to not stop loving me.
Why are you here anyway? What's the point of coming to this hospital early in the morning and leave after midnight to come back the next day not even knowing if you are gonna find me alive? What's the point of seeing someone you love so failed? You used to say with all conviction that I'd beat this and I'd write about my experiences and make an amazing album. You keep saying this; but now I don't think you believe it anymore.
Lung cancer. How ironic. I guess death comes to you in the way you deserve it. The whole band quit smoking, because of me. The doctors want to perform a surgery; but I say, what's the fucking point? I'm tired, extremely tired. This semi-life isn’t worth shit; I just wanna die.
You smile at me. I used to kiss you when you smiled like that; we were so insanely in love that the other band members were even envious. I remember you pushing me towards the backstage for a quick fuck; we loved the adrenaline, the danger. I remember I felt so happy just 'cause you were by my side. You promised you'd never leave me. Now I bet you regretted that promise.
Why don't you say it? Why don't you do me the favor and tell me that you're not in love with me anymore? Why don't you tell me the obvious, that no one can love this. Would you have the guts to be honest with me?
I don't need you here. Don't need and don't want. Your presence makes me even more uncomfortable. I can feel I'm disappointing you, shocking you.
Go. Go before I start vomiting. Go before I start sweating and screaming. Go before I hurt and disappoint you even more.
So please, get all your things and get out while you can.

comments? :}

Possibilities (one-shot)

2007-10-17T18:03:30Z

Title: Possibilities
Author: citricpepper
Pairing: Frank/Jamia, Frank/Gerard (kind of)
Rating: PG
POV: Third, Frank-Centric
Summary: "We kinda need to talk. Today," She hurried to say, "Because tomorrow I won't have the guts to do it."
Disclaimer: They only feel each other up on stage; the rest is all on my imagination account
Author Notes: Slightly based on the recent events of Projekt Revolution
Warnings: Swearing, Jamia
Dedications: My beta Jessy (gee4president), for forgiving my poor english <3

Possibilities

Frank feels like every bone inside his body has been smashed by a truck ten times. He's sore everywhere, not to mention he sweated so much on that one night that anyone could probably smell him from a mile away and it's not funny. It's been a long time since they had a summer this hot; thermometers seem to be about to blow up at any moment.

All the he wants is to have a good, long shower until he is clean and smelling good again and crash into bed to cuddle with his probably already asleep sweet fiancée, and drift off to a slumber of peace.

But when he opens the hotel bedroom door, he thinks that he might have to change his plans; his cute fiancée isn't as asleep on the bed as he thought she would be; she is sitting on a small couch, chewing on her nails and looking straight at Frank.

"Is something wrong baby? I thought you said you were tired, and I took pretty long at the meetings…"

"We kinda need to talk. Today," She hurried to say, "Because tomorrow I won't have the guts to do it." Frank blinked. "Go have your shower, and we'll talk okay?"

"No, it's okay, let's talk now. You're worrying me. What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"You sure you don't wanna take your shower first?" Jamia asks, looking at the floor.

"Mia, what's up?" The man asks, closing the door behind him and sitting next to his fiancée. She just shrugs.

"You had a busy night on the gig, huh?" She smiles faintly. He smiles back.

"Yeah, it was awesome, wasn't it? It just keeps getting better. Amazing." She nods and bites her lip. After a deep sigh she turns to face him, her hazel eyes carry a hint he can't quite detect.

"You're really trading me for him, huh?" She bites her lip again. Frank stares at her genuinely confused.

"What??"

"Frankie..." She lets out a sigh. "It's not like you're being very good at hiding it lately. To tell the truth, you never were."

"You're talking about Gerard?" He asks in disbelief.

"Yes Frank, I am talking about Gerard."

"Mia, c'mon… I know it has been a little too much lately. Is it making you uncomfortable?"

"Do you honestly think I'm that narrow-minded? I wish it was that simple." She lets out a shaky breath before saying in a rush, her eyes lighter than usual.

"What? My god baby, what are you talking about? You think I want something more from Gerard? It's just stage act, sweetheart. Rush of emotions and adrenaline. We're only kidding." She giggles sadly.

"Who are you trying to convince, me or you? You know it's more than that, it always was… In fact, I should have seen it coming…"

"Jamia, baby, don't be stupid. I love you, okay? I've got your name tattooed on my fucking chest! Gerard is just my best friend, and we do some stuff on stage but you said it didn't bother you!"

"It's not the kisses or the touches, Frankie!"

"Then what is it?" She stares at him wide-eyed before shaking her head.

"I suppose you don't notice. But everybody does, and I do too, from the very moment I met him. When he is around, Frankie, your eyes, they sparkle. You stare at him all the time, it's like the whole fucking world doesn't exist. You get that adoring look on your face and you don't listen to anybody else. I remember when I first met him, when you brought me to meet the band. When he entered the room you let go of my hand, and only half of your attention was with me. It never changed. It's still the same, and you don't even notice it." Frank smiles pitifully.

"Jamia, don't be silly, you have no reason to be jealous. He is a very charismatic person, you know that. I also admire him and his talent with all my heart, and you know that too. C'mon baby, what's the problem… I'll ask him to lay off a little, okay? It's been really all too much lately. I guess it's his own way of--"

"Don't do that, because it's not what you want. Why are you doing this to yourself? And me? And Gerard? I don't understand what's wrong, Frankie, I really don't. Stop pretending."

"Jamia, you're being paranoid. What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying you are in love with Gerard Way, Frank. C'mon, it's so fucking obvious, I'm sure you know it too!" Frank laughs a little.

"Okay, I think it's better we talk tomorrow. You're obviously not thinking straight right now." She gives him a hurt glance. "What? I don't understand any of this Jamia, I swear to fucking god! I'm your fiancé, we are getting married next year, and I've been with you for over ten years now. What else do I need to do to prove you that I love you?"

"I do believe you love me… Just not in the way you think." She whispers.

"Have you been reading one of those fan fics?"

"Just… Listen okay? I'm pretty sure you know all of that, but I guess I can play this game if you want. I knew it all the time. It was all there, written all over your face. You had so much affection and care going on for him, it was overwhelming. I recognized your feelings but I thought it was okay. That you loved him but loved me in a different way, and that wouldn't be a problem. You got just so concerned about everything that was related to him… When he was depressed, suicidal and all… When somebody said something about him in the room I could feel your heart beating faster when we were hugging. It hurt a little; but I thought it would be okay. I fell in love with you so deeply, Frank, fuck, you don't have any idea. I still am, even more perhaps, in love with you. Maybe that's why it took me so long to do this…" She sighs deeply before continuing. "It was all okay, the kisses on stage, the touches, everything. It was cute; it was just you guys mocking around and everything. But you weren't okay with it, were you? Like, what happened in the Paramour mansion between you two? It must have been something really serious, because when you two had finished the album, you were barely speaking. Remember when you said, that you had faced inner demons there? That you were thinking about quitting the band? It was you two, I could see it. But I didn't say anything. I never said anything about it until now because I wasn't brave enough to do it, but it has to stop. It has come way too far already. I remember when you finished the album you and me… We were great. You fucking proposed to me! I thought… I was selfish enough to be happy about it. Things were great between you and me and you even tattooed my name. It felt perfect you know? Even though deep down there you were only acting like that out of desperation because you and Gerard were barely speaking. It was terrible on your birthday, huh? Gerard treated you on stage really coldly and I bet you were expecting for you to resolve your issues on that day. After the gig, at the party…You tried to cheer up but you were sad; I could tell. It was like you and him couldn't fix things. You had abandoned the tour a whole lot of fucking times, claiming to be sick to the fans when you told me it was because you couldn't stand the way things were with the band. But you were sick Frankie, I could tell. You didn't eat right, you didn't smile right, you became a ghost. Inside I was praying for you to make things okay, and finally you did."

"Jamia…"

"Lemme finish! When you and him were okay again and you started to tour normally, you were back to that person I love so much. You were back to being yourself. Then it hit me; it wasn't me that brought that wonderful personality up; it was him. All him. I guess what happened on Paramour was really serious, because it affected him a lot too. Even more than it had affected you, I think."

"All of that doesn't mean that--"

"It does, Frankie, it does! You fucking love him! And I was so selfish to accept this with my mouth shut because I love you way too much. I love you with my heart and it's fucking shattering me to pieces inside to do what I'm doing now, but it has to be done. When you two were back to being friends… it hurt him even more, didn't it? Oh god, I can see in his eyes, the way he looks at you, the way he looks at me. I can see how he loves to be on stage with you because there he can do whatever he wants. But sometimes he pushes you away, doesn't he? I know why, and you do too. He wants more from you; and you don't want to give him. He feels used. I guess that's why he wanted to be normal, he wanted to be with someone else too. My god, look how miserable you've made him, Frankie! He felt like he had to pick the first girl that popped into his head and put a fucking ring on her finger to prove to you that he could be your equal! And look at what a mess he has done by doing that. He was so fucking desperate he didn't even consider looking for someone that would fit him better, he chose Eliza fucking Cuts. And you felt terrible, didn't you? It was all so forced, even I cringed. He was falling down fast, trying to find something that could make sense in his life other then you. And then they broke up and he is just even more lost! You've put him into so much unnecessary pain, because you know his feelings are returned."

"Gerard didn't get engaged because he liked me, Jamia. What you’re saying doesn’t even make any sense!" She lets out a frustrated growl.

"My god, Frank, stop it! Make things easier for me! Do you think it's nice to say all those things to you now? It's not, so stop acting like I'm lying!" She inhales deeply to focus. "At that point, I had already seen that you two belong together. My god, and it took me fucking long enough. You were both falling into pieces away from each other and it was so stupid and stubborn. But I couldn't just come… And break up with you, you know? It was more than I could take. I was so pathetic, but I love you so fucking much… So I waited around. Waited for the day you'd come and break with me, and finally be happy with the one you truly loved, but you didn't! And instead, things have just gotten worse and worse; you said you were thinking about doing the same Mikey did when we got married. Get a break from the band. I knew why you were thinking about that; you could never focus on me as a wife with Gerard around. You were just making one more mistake, and then… Projekt Revolution and things… Exploded. All of those gigs, Frankie… You just can't take being away from him anymore, can you? There are sparkles between you guys. And kisses, and touches and moans… And it's all because you're both frustrated and miserable. I don't understand it! It's not like you're a homophobic, it's not like it is bad for the band's image, it's not like the guys don't support you. Why can't you just be with him?" Frank is speechless.

"Because I love you…" He whispers weak when his voice returns.

"And you don't love him?" She asks sarcastically, but her eyes are bright with tears.

"I uh… Is it possible to love two people at the same time?" She smiles sadly.

"You know it's not. At least not in the same way. It breaks my heart to do what I'm doing but I can't pretend I'm not seeing it anymore. Getting married will only complicate things even more. Please, Frankie. Be reasonable. You'll only get the three of us more hurt."

"I ah… I don't know what to say. I love you, I really do. I never meant to hurt you and I don't wanna hurt you now. We've been together for so long… I've deprived you from a lot of opportunities… It's so unfair to just like… end now."

"Frank, for Christ's sake! Living a fake won't make it any better. Please, just follow your heart. I'm gonna leave you and it costs my fucking core to do it, so make it worth it. Go and stop Gerard's pain for once and for all… I'm sure he'll make you so happy, honey… Much more than I do." She states, running the back of her hand on one of Frank's cheeks.

"I don't wanna lose you."

"You won't. As a friend. I'll always be a friend, no matter what. Thank you, for everything, really. You made me so happy… Even if you didn't like me the way you liked him, still it was enough for me to feel on the top of the world."

"You too… I love you so much. You're beautiful and…I'm gonna miss you lots."

"I know." She whispers, and finally some hot glossy tears spill from her pretty hazel eyes. She lets out another sigh and, trembling, gets the silver ring out of her finger. It's difficult because it's tight on her skin but she manages to do it. Then she grabs one of her now former fiancée and presses the ring against his damp palm, after pressing a kiss to the object. "I love you." She whispers, in between a kiss upon his tear-stained cheek. But suddenly, he grabs the sides of her face and forces her into an open-mouth kiss, long and intense. "Thanks." She says smiling after they break apart. "I had my things transferred to another room. I'll stay for the night and tomorrow I'll go home. When, you and Gerard, umm, work things out, we see what we'll do about the house and stuff, okay?" Frank nods still in awe and feeling very scared of everything that's happening. "Now… What are you waiting for? Go find him."

***

Frank had stayed under the warm shower spray for over an hour, trying to process everything that had happened and trying to wash away his guilt for hurting Jamia the way he did.

He's still in awe as he walks on the hallway, but finally, things are starting to sink in. It's odd and joyful and very overwhelming, and his heart is already pounding as he stops on Gerard's door. The tiredness and soreness apparently had all faded away.

He presses the card he asked for on the reception to the slot and feeling his pulse lumping inside his very throat.

And Gerard is there, bent over the window, in his pajamas, looking at the city below his eyes and lazily blowing cigarette smoke into the air before sucking on his Marlboro for some more; a faint summer breeze making some of his locks wave gracefully.

What a coquettish insomniac he is.

A few heartstrings twirl around inside Frank's chest; a mix of relief and devotion, and fear.

"Gee…?"

the end~

comments, please? :D

Aries (one-shot)

2007-10-17T01:51:01Z

Title: Aries
Author: citricpepper
Rating: R
Pairing: Gerard/Frank, kind of
POV: First, Gerard-centric
Summary: You gotta keep perspective
Warnings: Swearing, strong content, possible offenses to fans
Disclaimer: Not real, Gerard isn't this bitchy. ~~Or at least let's hope so~~ :}
Author's Notes: I only take the bad side of the zodiac signs
Dedications: gee4president, my beta, and my lovely friends Camis and Carol for being as obsessed with astrology as I am <3

ARIES

A man from Aries can be arrogant, intolerant, aggressive, rude, stubborn, violent, egocentric, very possessive and rushed, especially when his wills are not attended.

You gotta keep perspective.
I’ve always known that. You’ve got to keep the perspective; the purpose. Otherwise you lose control.
Control is primordial for people like me. I have to possess things and people. Control them. Tell them what to do and think. What to say, how to behave.
The lack of control is what keeps me from going down. The lack of control made me give up poisons because they were taking the fucking control from me. It’s what keeps me sane right now. The shadows can’t threaten to engulf me because I’m in control. I can yell, and tell them to go away. No fucking shitty demon can be up against me. And that’s why I stand up and scream at the walls. I can feel them vibrate, I can feel the demanding chords ripping from within my throat and core and flying to penetrate the silence and the shadows. To penetrate the darkness that confines me. To make it get ripped and bleed echoes from my voice all over the room.
I can scream, and I will fucking scream again if I need to because I need to make my first move. I hate waiting quite to have a fight; I would stand up and make my sword rip through nothing if it means that I’m making the first move. I have to keep in charge. I have to keep the perspective.
And if I am alone right now is because nobody truly understands me. They like my persona, but not me. I get dark inside and I get violent. I get cruel and demanding, but that’s who I am. I need to be in control and if that means I have to fucking jump on your throat and make you bleed from your eyeballs until they pop out, that’s what I will do. If it’s my turn to speak then you will shut up. If I speak for too long, you will remain quiet. If it’s my spotlight then you will get under my fucking shadow. If it’s my possession then you’ll keep your hands off of it. If you don’t, I will personally teach you how to fucking listen to me.
I get jealous. I get jealous because I have the right to get jealous if I fucking want to get jealous. Because I love people; then I have to control them to keep them around me. I can twist their minds so their brains get completely blank like fucking zombies. I can’t help it if they are weak and stupid. That’s exactly why they are like this; so they can be mine. All of them. I love weak people; because I love to control them. Because that’s the perspective, that’s the way things are.
I have my brother, and I have him forever. This one I know for sure that will never escape. I had too much access to his mind. I made him too dependent of me. I controlled him since we were kids. I suppressed his personality. I made good and sure he was my puppet. I damaged him; I made him need me like a drug. He doesn’t have opinions of his own; he doesn’t know how to do anything without asking me. Stuttering, voice low, fingers trembling, eyes down. Fucking pathetic. Fucking perfect. The things he has and knows and are, they are all approved by me. He has Alicia, because I let him have her. Let them play their fairy-tale; but he is mine. He needs my permission for everything. I made him mine. He’ll never get away. He knows he won’t survive without me. Mikey; I’m proud of the work I did on him.
I have Toro; because I lead him perfectly. I have him because I seduced him the right way. I have him because I complimented everything he did from the day we met. I stroked his ego for years and I still do. I trick him with candy. I say all the things he wants to hear. I say he is the most fucking amazing guitarist I’ve ever met (which might be true, but anyway), I say the band would be nothing without him (even though everybody knows that band would indeed be nothing without ME), I say he is my brother (because I know he worships me so), I say he is good-looking (narcissist people don’t have a clue about that) and I even say he looks good with his hair straitened (ahem). I do it with the sweetest tone in my voice. I do it so I can trap him. And I trapped him. He is mine. He won’t go away because without me he has no self-esteem.
I have Frank. I have him because he is dumb; I have him because I know he likes to be treated and spoiled like a child. I treat him right, I teach him things, I make him feel smart. I insinuate myself to him, I turn him on, I make him doubt his sexuality. I make myself addicting to him. He was a homophobic when I met him, today he is my puppet and that’s why I have him. Because he loves it. He loves to be on the edge and challenging himself. He loves the way I make him feel. He might be straight but he can’t get enough of me. I did it well; I worked my effects on him. That’s why I have him; because I’m his lethal dose of adrenaline.
I have Bob. And I’ll tell you what; he was the hardest to crack. He was just too strong, too focused and not vulnerable. I didn’t know how to get myself to own him. He didn’t look like he admitted to be owned. But I don’t admit to not own people. So I worked my fucking ass off to find out his weakness. And then I realize his weakness was respect. I have him because I act respectful. He is respectful and devoted to work, so I became like this as well. He is discreet, so I keep space. I let him be reserved. He liked it. He came closer. He thought he had found somebody who respected him. And I got him trapped to me. I have him because he loves the way I treat him. He loves how I respect him. He started to respect me too. He gave me the most precious emotion he could; and I owned him. I have Bob, because we respect each other.
I have the fans. Because I’m their fucking savior and I built myself into it. They are all mine; thousands and thousands of clueless teenagers under my control. Fascinated by me, worshiping me, belonging to me, needing me. Following my rules, because I tell them to. Because I lead them. Because I control them.
I have them all, they are all mine. I control them and I’m keeping perspective. Because it doesn’t matter if I am alone right now, I know they won’t go anywhere because they can’t survive without me. I know demons won’t come too close now because I own them too. I know the darkness within me won’t overwhelm because I’m in fucking control. Because I am keeping the god damn perspective.

the end

comments? comments with antrax? (I'll take those too :D)

Limitations (one-shot)

2007-10-17T01:25:16Z

Title: Limitations
Author: citricpepper
Rating: R
Pairing: Gerard/Eliza, Gerard/Bert
POV: Third, Gerard-centric
Summary: "But she's not... You."
Warnings: References to sex, swearing, Gerard being a bitch
Disclaimer: Not real, never happened, don't know
Author's Notes: Eliza Cuts is in this. Eliza Cuts is in this. Do I need to say it again?
Dedications: Best and most patient beta-reader in the world; Jessy - gee4president

LIMITATIONS

A man is sitting on a chair, sighing annoyed when he has to narrow his olive eyes to get the hand writing in front of him to focus. Must be the fucking age, he assumes. He used to have the eyes of an eagle, having the clearest sight even in the most inappropriate situations, now his eyes are trashing. Sooner or later, he will have to wear glasses. The thought alone makes him cringe. Gerard Way, with glasses? Getting wiser has a high price after all.
Frustration overtaking his system, his veins pumping erratically with the awful sensation of sheer incompetence, his slender fingers release the fancy pen, raising and going to hide between his dark locks, pulling enough to cause pain on his scalp, his own form of punishment, for being so useless.
It has been fifteen -fifteen fucking minutes that he has been sitting at the same desk, trying to get his ideas to beautify and make musical sense; but all he’s got is a couple of scratched lines, ballpoint ink pooling on the piece of paper, hiding words that make Gerard grimace as soon has his irises scanned them. Some words, that can be useful, can be found intact here and there, but mostly, it's just garbage. He must have broken a record, or some shit like that. He was before able to pull a whole song out of nowhere, just by hearing the fucking riff; now he can't produce anything meaningful anymore. For Satan’s sake, what's wrong with him?
Grunting defeated through gritted teeth, his hands leave his hair to taunt on the pockets of his jacket, searching anxiously until a pack can be felt on his palm from under the fabric and his heart jolts.
'C'mon, nobody needs to know'
Yeah, he is indeed trying to quit smoking, but can he help it, if he is blocked? Fucking blocked. The word used to be prohibited to him. Now, he is a blocked oldie who can't see in the dark. Fucking perfect..
When he is just about to flick the lighter and hit the glorious moment of sending nicotine back into his lungs where it belongs, a pair of fingers, even paler then his, quickly capture the stick from his pursed lips.
"Aaah-aah, gotcha! Gerard, you sneak, you said you were quitting!" The feminine -but not irritating by any means- tone of voice puts a smile on Gerard's lips. Even though it’s half-hearted.
"Didn't hear you coming in, baby."
"Don't change the subject. You were about to smoke, you told me not to let you anymore." Gerard sighs, aggravated, because he really doesn't have to admit his problem right now. It must be worst than confessing you have sexual impotence, or something. Would she even understand the dimension of the situation?
He stands up slowly, and turns around, just to be greeted with a pair of big, round and very blue eyes, framed by a thick layer of mascara, eyeliner, eye shadow and whatever else to add to the mix and a flashing smile.
"I know what I said, but… But I need it right now, okay? I'm having some… Some trouble with my writing, smoking might help." Her light irises narrow a bit, a glint of persuasion growing in them. Gerard's tone turns pleading. "El, please… I've been trying to write for days, you know it." Eliza's features soften and her white teeth get bared in an expression of sympathy. Yes, she knows it. In one swift movement, her short hair flips away from her porcelain face and she nods.
"You know I can't prohibit you of anything Ger, it's just because you asked me."
"I know I did, El. But I need to write. I'm getting frustrated already." His fiancé finally complies, wide smile once more in place, giving back his beloved Marlboro.
"It's up to you baby."
"I will stop. Promise." One of her well-shaped eyebrows rises. "Really El! I'm just stressed. I wanna write, and the new album and…"
"It's okay Gerard, I'm not your mom. You don't owe me any explanations." He smiles relieved. "I'm trashed. I'm gonna take a shower and go to bed, okay?"
"Sure. I'll be here. I'll come to bed later." He trails off, almost guiltily. When they have time for themselves, that's how they spend it. What a great engagement.
"Goodnight Ger. Good luck with your writing, just try to not stress that much."
"I will. Sweet dreams, El." And with that, his arms snake around her round waist, the cigarette still safely trapped between his fingers as he brings her form up so his lips can touch hers. They taste like cherry coke and cherry lip-gloss. That sweet Victoria's Secret perfume she uses -is it 33 or 34? He never remembers- is invading his nostrils. He nuzzles the soft, silky skin of her cheek with his pointy nose, relishing himself for the thousandth time for being such a lucky bastard.
"I love you." The three words vibrate from her throat and fly around the thick air that surrounds the couple. Timid confession, almost a whisper. Just like every night.
"I love you too. You know it El." And even though it's involuntary, the muscles of her back relax under Gerard's arms. She always tenses, always. Like she is afraid that one day he'll give up replying to her words. "Goodnight, my little Owl-ie" He winks playfully. She smacks his arm.
"Hey!"
"Never said it was an ugly owl." He grins. She shakes her head.
"What am I gonna do with you?" She asks, laughing, before sliding into the bedroom they share and leaving Gerard alone again with the dark and his haunting incomplete lyrics.
Turning around again, he sits at his desk, praying to get back into focus. Fuel fires flame that burns the open tip of the cigarette and soon he is sucking ammonia into his body. His hands quit shaking; but not completely.
Again, the non-sense floating into the paper, words come liquid into his line of vision. They continue to seem empty to him. His free hands come to rub his eyelids forcefully and he tries again. Nothing. It all comes out as some expensive words thrown here and there, nothing artful about them.
But really, when you are in a band like his, what are you supposed to write when everything is perfect? Lies? Because everything is perfect about his life. It’s just on track.
Or maybe, he just wants to believe so .
Of course he has everything he wants (or at least everything he should want). And yeah, of course he likes Eliza. He has no reason to do otherwise. She is obviously gorgeous, and also a very nice person, with a fantastic musical taste, sense of discretion kind of like his, she is funny, smart, special and everything he could look for in a girl. Okay, so the engagement was a little rushed. So what? Gerard is getting old, and life is short. He can't afford to waste time being a kid. He wants to have a life now. He wants to have a wife, and maybe some kids he could name as Dracula or whatever, and a house and everything.
But Jesus, what has all this got to do with punk rock?
Nothing. Oh yeah.
He needs a bit of his old self to get through the block.
Or at least, he needs to believe he does.
Maybe he has delayed this enough. Meaning, what harm could it do anyway? It's been just so long! They are both adults now. Aren’t they?
Maybe he shouldn't have put the ring on Eliza's finger all out of nowhere like he did. True. Well, they were friends from the moment they met, true indeed, but no, nothing more than friends. But then Mikey married, and Frank settled the date and he felt left behind. Thinking about it, really, wouldn't you? And Eliza, she was just there. No holding back. He had to do it. He did it. Period. What's the big deal anyway?
Marriage has nothing to do with passion after all.
But he doesn't want to include anything about red nail polish or a shining pair of blue eyes in his songs. At least, not that pair of blue eyes.
Hesitantly, his trembling fingers trash the non-finished cigarette into the glass ashtray before running like a white spider over the dark wood of the desk, Gerard's heart losing his compass for an instant or two when they touch the object they were looking for. In one decided move, before he regrets it, he takes the black phone off of the charge and, faking a grimace, pretending to himself he has to make an effort to remember the combination of numbers he never forgot after all, he dials, gluing the phone to his right ear.
His breath goes uneven, steaming the black plastic close to his mouth. He waits for the owner of the phone to pick up; and oh fuck he remembers just like it was yesterday the uncountable times he stood on that same position in different places, holding his shaky breath while waiting for the damn phone to just get picked, please. But it's not that easy, it never was. No, he doesn't want to leave a message, thank you, and hangs up. But not tonight, he won't give up that easily. He tries again.
And up to the third beep, a click makes sense into Gerard's brain. And he is greeted with a hoarse, sleepy, beautiful voice.
"Hello?" Gerard steals one last, guilty glance to the hallway; no sign of Eliza at all. So he lowers his voice and softens his tone. It's automatic. Years later, nothing has changed.
"Hey." He says uncertainly. He knows his voice is recognizable; especially for somebody who heard it so many times. A long, long, pause. A sigh. An annoyed sigh.
"What do you want?" Ouch.
"I thought you'd pick this one up. I traded my number, you see."
"Yeah, I see. What do you want, Gerard?"
"I don't know." Honesty.
"Well, that won't do it dude. Gimme one good reason why I shouldn’t just shut the phone, in three seconds. One…" Panic.
"No, Bert. I wanna talk." Gerard grimaces. "Please." Another sigh.
"Okay. Talk."
"How are you?"
"I'm great dude. Thanks for asking. Is that it?"
"I miss you."
"No shit."
"I mean it Bert."
"I figured that much out, smartass, since you're calling me at fucking midnight. Seriously Gerard, what the fuck do you want?" Gerard needs sometime to think.
"I saw your last vid. It's awesome you know. You look like a clone of Kurt Cobain and I mean it. And the concept is brilliant. The song, is also-"
"Quit the ass-kissing already and answer my question."
"I don't know Bert. I wanted to hear your voice. I wanted to remember how it was like, to be with you."
"Does it matter now?" Gerard's mouth gets full of ash.
"I think it does."
"I really think my sleeping is way more interesting than this."
"Were you sleeping alone?" A sarcastic, raw laugh. It's cruel. It hurts.
"Oh, you are gonna get all jealous on me now? C'mon Gerard, it's not like it mattered. And if it's important to you, I was with Quinn." Suddenly some insides clench. "Why do you ask?"
"Just… Just curiosity."
"It's not like you are free as a bird either, is it? Heh! I heard about your…" A muffled giggle, meant for Gerard to hear. "Engagement. With the hair chick right? Congrats dude, she is pretty and everything. She is a bit chubby, but hey, who am I to say anything? You know better than anyone I have a thing for the roundies." Gerard's fingers turn white with their grip on the phone.
"Eliza is nice."
"Never said otherwise."
"But…"
"But what? Just spit it out, Gerard. You’re getting on my nerves already."
"But she’s...not you." He confesses almost silently, giving in completely and almost letting the phone fall down to the floor. "I'm having trouble with writing. It never happened before… I thought… Talking to you would help."
"Aaaand yes ladies and gentleman, he is still the same empty, selfish, pedant, ego-centric slut! Give it up for Geraaaard Way!" Bert's faux tone is hurtful. Maybe because it's built on hurt, and hate. Maybe because it's all just the truth. "You never change." Gerard whispers his answer.
"I know." It's like an apology.
"It was you that ran away, Gerard. You. Not me."
"I know."
"It's been two years, dude."
"I know."
"Then what do you want now? Get back to being friends? Buddies? Wanna ask me to be your best man?"
"No! It'd never work."
"Glad you know it."
"I just wanted you to… You know, forgive me. I was an ass."
"Hell yeah you were."
"I was, I know it. I miss you Bert. I'm not lying. I really miss you."
"Think I don't? I wrote a fucking song about you dude! I think about all the time. And when I'm not, press reminds me of it. You're just fucking everywhere, Gerard. Everywhere I look, you are just fucking there."
"I wish I was."
"Don't lie."
"I'm not lying… I don't know. I miss you Bert. I miss being with you. I miss being such a mess with you. It was all so… So raw."
"Why are you calling me to say all this shit now? You were the one who broke up what he had, the fucked-up thing we had. You are the one who got engaged. You are the one who rejected me. Why are you looking for me now?"
"I don't know."
"That's right. You never know anything. You just know how to hurt people."
"I wish I didn't hurt you."
"But you did. And now what?"
"It hurts me too. Sometimes, I just wish I could go back to being myself."
"And why can't you?"
"You said it yourself. I'm selfish."
"You're just messing with my mind."
"I'm sorry."
"…"
"Is Quinn a good fuck? Is he… Is he better than me?"
"I bet you’ve dying to ask me this since those times."
"Yes. I have."
"He’s a very good fuck dude. He does this thing with his mouth when he is blowing me…" Odd jealousy flashes into his veins. "But no, he is not better than you."
"That's good to hear."
"One more point to your ego, Gerard? Nah, he could never be. The faces you make and the fucking noises… It's all so hot."
"You always made me be so noisy."
"Especially when I bent you over and… Well, you know it all."
"I do. I did."
"Can I still do it?"
"Do what?"
"Give you a hard-on, over the phone, like I used to?"
"Bert, I'm thirty already."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"Yes. Yes, you still do it. Just the sound of your voice does it."
"That's hot."
"I keep remembering, you know… The way your skin felt on mine. It was like poison, like fire."
"Is this why you called me? To have a night of homo phone-sex?"
"No."
"Well then…?"
"I just miss… Everything about you. Your laugh, the stupid things you say. You used to make me feel so light. Like I was careless or something. When we were in your bunk after fucking you know… Smoking and just in silence. I felt so complete."
"You were the one who left me."
"I know."
"…"
"Bert, I love you." The confession. But now it's just too late and they both know it.
"Shit man, I love you too. What, you thought I didn't? It was just so obvious."
"I don't know. I just wanted you to know. I love you, I always have."
"So do I. So what's the point? You're gonna break your porcelain doll's heart and run here to meet me? We‘re gonna spend the night having sex until we can’t move? We’re gonna sleep in each other's arms and promise it's forever? Wake up, Gerard. That's not the way it works."
"I know it's not."
"Then what's the point?"
"There is no fucking point, Bert. I just wanted to write."
"Well, hopefully I helped."
"Can you say it again?"
"Say what?"
"You know what."
"I'm pretty sure you heard it the first time."
"Can you Bert? Please?"
"Urgh. Fine." A deep sigh. "I love you Gee. I always have."
"…"
"It helped?"
"I think so. I forgot you used to call me Gee."
"You did?"
"No, I didn't. You know I didn't. I love that nickname."
"Gerard…"
"I should go Bert. I'm sorry. Bye."

The phrases Gerard messily wrote during the conversation are still there.

Everywhere I look, you are just fucking there
Don't lie
It was all so raw
You're just messing with my mind
Can I still do it?
The way your skin felt on mine
It was like poison, like fire

***

Gerard is now watching the way Eliza's key pedant is going up and down onto the ivory skin of her flesh, with her serene breath, The way the silk camisole covers her body and the way her features look pretty all liquefied, as she sleeps.
He finished his writing, and his smoking.
The lyrics are done, safely in the third drawer of the desk. The song is solid.
And Gerard is shattered.

the end

comments, please, please please? :D

Twisted (one-shot)

2007-10-17T00:49:57Z

Title: Twisted
Author: citricpepper
Rating: R
Pairing: Gerard/Bert
POV: Third, Gerard/centric
Summary: Time has passed, things have changed, but the hate is still there
Warnings: References to drugs/sex, swearing, strong content
Disclaimer: Gerard is nice in real life ~~as far as we are concerned~~
Author's Notes: This might be offensive
Dedications: This pic for inspiring me and my lovely, super-sweet beta, Jessy - gee4president

Twisted

The room is crowded. People talking loud, the sound of glass on glass, alcohol-induced chats, loud laughs. It’s a typical bands get together. Some members of some bands, some managers of those bands, booze and the light chats of kids who have money to live like grown-ups. There’s practically not a woman inside that room. It’s Brian’s place anyway; what would a woman be doing there?
One particular man is sat, refusing to get into the teen atmosphere of the party. He sits on the chair, legs crossed, foot tapping the floor, a burning cigarette safely trapped between his pursed lips. He’s not wearing those alien styled clothes; instead he is the perfect imagine of haute couture, a black leather jacket shinning new upon a very elegant black shirt, on which he deliberately forgot to shut the last two buttons, giving his audience a teasing display of his milky, hairless chest and collarbone. His flawless face framed by a short and soft bleached hair giving him a sickly elegant look, brown eye-shadow-covered olive eyes, narrowed, studying the oh-so predictable behavior of the party animals before him, blowing the gray smoke into the air in a very annoyed manner. He poses there, arrogant as fuck, getting the attention of every single person that passes by. Still, his expression doesn’t soften, his eyebrow stay furrowed, the look of cocky disgust very clear in his features. Although he might be confused with a statue, people never get enough of staring at him. The crowd never gets bored of Gerard Way, its Gerard Way that gets bored by the crowd.
But something is about to happen to snap him out of his numbness; something so alarming he’d even prefer that it didn’t happen if he wasn’t a bitch who is always looking forward to putting the insults pooling on the very tip of his tongue to an use.
He sees the man walking into the fancy living room out of the corner of his eye, his pink-glossed lips threatening to curl into a devil smirk. They would, if this man in particular liked to show off his emotions. He doesn’t and that’s exactly why he won’t let his annoyance by the unwanted presence show.
The dark-haired man walks towards him, a glass bottle in his hand, and takes his place besides Gerard.
- Beer? – He asks, his hoarse voice filling Gerard’s ears; how long has it been since he heard that voice? He doesn’t answer, he continues to stare ahead. – You should want some, you know. You are looking like fucking Roxette with this hair.
The bleached haired man lets a smirk form in his lips, completely amused by the other man’s dare.
- And I would say you look like a dirty whore who doesn’t know what shampoo means; but I guess you’d like that.
- Ha. Since when am I the whore?
Gerard shakes his own head, looking at the man for the first time. He looks just the same, the crazy blue eyes stained by sick red, his dark long locks just as dirty as always.
- You really shouldn’t be here, Bert. – He states seriously. Bert just laughs.
- Get over yourself, Gerard. Brian is my manager too; I have as much right to be here as you.
Gerard’s eyes narrow even more with anger.
- You’re probably right; but that doesn’t mean that you have to sit this close to me.
And with that statement he lifts from his chair, going straight to the empty balcony. He isn’t running away; he just wants to take round two to a more private place.
And five minutes later, Bert walks into balcony as well, his abused jeans just about covering his crotch, his tight shirt leaving a little amount of pubic hair in display. The sight disgusts Gerard almost as much as it turns him on.
- Fuck, what’s wrong with you McCracken? – He spits angrily. – The Used isn’t getting any more extra publicity by offending My Chem, so you wanna be friends again?
- You asked for those insults. – Bert says simply.
- Oh yeah? How come?
- Because you let me know how much you like being offended.
Gerard smiles; his sharp teeth showing.
- I thought you’d only go so low inside four walls, honey. And if I remember well, I think I used to like those kinda sick things. I’m not a fucked up animal anymore, as you can see. – He says, running his fingers through his new hair, his chest almost blowing off with the sudden swell of his ego.
Bert lets out that laugh again, looking at Gerard with pure and genuine despise.
- Gerard, you wrote a whole album about an illness you never had. If anyone’s sick here, it’s you.
Gerard looks around.
- Bert, I’m not seeing any journalists in here! Why do you keep up with your easy offenses? You should get your own life to worry about. Like I did.
- You did? So tell me that you don’t jack off every night in that filthy bunk of yours, moaning my name? I bet you even fist yourself while doing it.
Gerard’s amusement is clear now; he smirks.
- Last time I checked; - He states slowly. – You were the one into fisting.
- C’mon Gerard, you don’t need to pretend you don’t like to bottom. We both know how much you enjoy being the pretty little bitch. I bet that if I snapped my fingers now, you’d be on all fours for me, like the slut you are.
- I’m not the one who has sex in the middle of a dance floor with more than one stranger; That’s what I’d call a slut.
- Oh yeah. I forgot. You don’t like sex per sex. You need drugs to complement it. – A shadow passes Gerard eyes at the mention of that specific past. – What? Is it a secret? Was I the only one you did those things with? Was I the only one you liked to kiss the blood from your nose after snorting four fucking grams of cocaine? Was I the only one you had wild, unsafe, drug-induced sex with? Was I the only one you handed the blade and asked ‘Oh babe, please hurt me, it feels so good when you hurt’?… - He raises his voices more than four octaves in a very convincing high school impersonation. – Really? I feel flattered.
- What the fuck do you want from me, Bert? – Gerard asks, digging his short nails into his palms, the anger making his blood boil.
- I’m just checking you out. You know, in despite of your hideous hair, you’re still very fuckable.
- You’re drunk.
Another laugh.
- Hell yeah I am! I’m always drunk Gerard and you know it. I can be drunk. You on the other hand.—
- Am not a reckless kid anymore.
- That’s right Gerard. I forgot. You are almost thirty. You are all grown up now. You are a shitty old fag, are you proud of it?
- I’d rather be an old fag with a record that’s blowing out the world than a young fuck whose band is falling apart.
And they reached the goal. The explosive two men had gotten to their ego dwell.
- At least we’re not appealing, parading around all cocky like we we’re doing something more than just emo superficial shit.
- I’m just as emo as you Bert. And you used to like our music.
- Just as much as I used to like you.
- You liked me? – Gerard puts his hands over his chest, all overdramatic. – I’m overwhelmed! I really am! You can see that I’m nothing without you, yeah.
- You are such an ungrateful bastard Gerard. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even be here. – Bert says bitterly.
- What, am I supposed to thank you now? You are so envious Bert. You’re angry because I don’t need you anymore. I don’t need you as fuck buddy, I don’t need you for drug supply, my band doesn’t need you to get a tour anymore. In fact… - Gerard purrs, preparing for his golden card. – You’re angry because we’ve gotten much farther than you, and you helped us to do it. – Bert grimaces. Touché.
- You are a cocky bastard, Gerard. You think you own the world just because you have a bunch of twelve year olds worshiping you and your stupid band. You are pure arrogance and you have nothing to be arrogant about.
- At least I don’t judge other people’s work publicly. Tell me Bert, what is it about me that bothers you so much? That gets you on the point of talking about me more than any other thing?
- Fuck you.
- You wish.
- Oh, don’t give me the dominant whore attitude. I know how much you like a dick up your ass.
- And I know how much you like to shove your dick up my ass. I bet you’re dying to do it right now; too bad you don’t have any appeal to me anymore.
- Son of a bitch. – Bert states before roughly pushing his tongue into Gerard’s mouth, who doesn’t even complain. The younger man’s hands roam all over Gerard’s chest, their kiss sloppy and wild, bruising even. But no doubt breathtaking. The two of them end up on the floor, kissing and forgetting completely of their surroundings.
The nicotine scent of Gerard’s mouth crashes onto the alcohol flavor in the other’s man cavern, earning a gasp from the blonde. It’s alcohol, he hasn’t tasted it in ages and Bert knows it, he knows how much he loves, he craves that taste. Gerard sucks Bert’s tongue into his mouth, suctioning and licking to get every bit of taste he can, moaning just at the feel. Bert chuckles and backs off, licking Gerard’s ear shell. – What’s the matter, Gerard? – He pants. – I thought you were clean and sober?
Gerard pushes Bert away, so hard he falls on his back and spits his saliva on the floor, cleaning his mouth with his leather sleeve as he does so.
- WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM? Jesus fucking Christ! You can’t stand the idea of me being okay, right? You have to try to ruin everything. What do you want? Drag me into rock bottom with you? Screw you Bert, just forget you ever met me! – He yells at the top of his lungs, as Bert’s smirk gets wider and wider.
- You are the one who tries to fight back your own personality, not me.
- I don’t need your fucked up theories, Bert.
- I disagree. – He answers, chewing on his nails. – In fact, I plan on writing a bunch of my fucked up theories about you.
Gerard raises an eyebrow.
- You can’t seriously be thinking of writing a song about me, Bert.
- You’ll see.
- Oh yeah? Well, go ahead and do it. I don’t give a fuck. Write a song about me, babe. I doubt you can do it as well as I can. – And with this, he rearranges his jacket, walking off the balcony, leaving Bert still on the floor.

THE END.

comments to make me smile? :)

citricpepper @ 2007-09-28T23:45:00

2007-09-29T02:48:16Z

unnecessary post :)

1st entry, to be quite obvious.

2007-07-09T00:05:34Z

hey guys *waves*

well; I hope that in this lj I get sth working, 'cause my last one was a total wreck. I've been dying to have a place to post my ffs and stuff, especially to get them posted into communities on lj, so I'm really excited about doing this with my new account. I'd really like to thank my lovely crime partner nady, xpaddiex, who is helping me with lj :D
for the record, I don't intend to keep a personal journal here at all; I already have a blog, in my language, to do it, so I will use this account exclusively for the things I write.
In time, I'll add everyone back here and stuff.
And hopefully will post my stuff :D

xxx,
Ana.