Gerard deals with Frank's death, and something strange happens.
As it turns out, Frank did make it out alive.
As soon as the scent of smoke hit his nostrils, he bolted from the motel room without his shirt or belt. "Fire!" he yelled as he went. "FIRE!"
Frank fled from the motel without looking back. He swerved around the red Acadia and ran down the road. He thought he might have heard someone calling his name, but it was so faint he ignored it.
Eventually he had run out of breath and had to stop, but by then he had made it to the end of his street. Amazed at what a human could do with an adrenaline rush, he walked slowly back to his motel room with a stitch in his side. Thank God he hadn't taken his sneakers off.
It wasn't until he had flopped back onto his bed that Frank realized that he could have run to Gerard's apartment.
'He wouldn't care,' Frank told himself firmly. 'You were with a client, right outside his apartment! He wouldn't want to see you!"
Frank got up and went to his dresser. He pulled open the front drawer and looked at the two pieces of clothing tucked and folded neatly inside. Without thinking, he put on the white shirt and blue jeans. He stared at himself in the mirror.
"Thank You For The Venom," he read aloud. "Too bad it didn't kill me."
Exhausted from the day's events, he went back to his bed. Frank wrapped himself up in the comforter he had bought for himself and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
Gerard was in shock.
No amount of crying or screaming could convince him that he had watched Frank burn to death inside that motel a week ago. No fucking way.
He had heard that three people had died in that fire; two males and a female. The report hadn't given any names.
'Two males,' Gerard kept thinking. 'And Frank can't be one of them. No fucking way.'
Wanting to forget what he saw, Gerard turned to booze as an escape from reality. For three days, he'd come home so drunk that he couldn't even spell his name.
But that fire still burned in his mind. That roaring inferno that had taken Frank away from him.
No. Fucking. Way.
When alcohol didn't help, Gerard found himself writing poems. All of them had to do with that horrific day, the day he lost someone he loved. There was one that Gerard had tried to make into a song, but he couldn't get past singing the first two lines without breaking down all over again.
So it was on a very windy Thursday afternoon that Gerard decided to take a ride in his old silver Subaru. He drove with his sunglasses on, even though it was cloudy. He didn't want anyone to see the red puffiness in his eyes.
He didn't know where he was going. Gerard just let his hands steer him wherever he needed to go without really feeling it. He supposed this was what it was like being the tin man from 'The Wizard of Oz.'
Gerard had driven into a part of town that he didn't go into very often. It was an area known for its abundance of druggies and...
Gerard slammed on the breaks, the tires squealing in protest. He ran a shaky hand through his hair and took off his sunglasses, unable to stand wearing them any longer.
"Damn," Gerard said softly. "Oh damn."
Has this been Frank's corner? Had he stood there, waiting to be picked up by some scumbag looking for a quick fuck? Was this where he had waited before being burned to death in that motel?
No fucking way.
Frank was standing with his hands shoved in his pockets when the car screeched to a halt beside him. He stood there for a while, debating on wether or not he should get in. Then a wind blew with so cold that Frank almost died on the spot.
'Nope,' he decided. 'I'm not staying out here. Fuck that.'
Frank yanked the door open and slid inside, breathing a small sigh of relief as the heat surrounded him. Vanilla-scented air-freshener added to the cozy effect.
He had barely enough time to begin to contemplate his strategy for this client when the unthinkable happened.
Frank's heart stopped. 'It's just an old client,' he told himself. 'You are not going to freak out. You've had tons of clients, and this one just decided to come back for more. You will not freak out.'
Very slowly, Frank turned his head to meet his client.
Greenish-hazel eyes stared back at him, wide with shock and surrounded by skin red from... crying?
No. Fucking. Way. You are having a hallucination. You will soon come out of it and find yourself freezing your ass off outside. You are not in a car with Gerard Way. You are not-
Gerard crushed his mouth against Frank's, effectively cutting off any other thoughts.
Gerard flinched violently when his door opened and a person climbed in. He was about to order them out of his car when he saw who it was.
Short, black-haired, beautiful Frank.
Oh. My. God.
Gerard heard Frank sigh, a sound that he wanted to replay for the rest of his life.
Frank was alive. Frank wasn't dead. Frank was in his car.
"Frank?" he heard himself ask. His voice was weak, just like his knees.
Gerard saw Frank's posture go rigid. After what seemed like forever, Frank slowly turned his head to face him. His green eyes were huge in his pale face.
Oh my shit.
Losing any control he may have had before, Gerard lunged forward and kissed Frank with all the strength he had. The other man felt so wonderfully solid and real.
Frank was alive. Frank wasn't dead. Frank was alive!
All the loss and sorrow he had felt went into the kiss, along with the month of longing that he had spent before the fire. It was passionate and messy, but it was real.
Gerard felt Frank's lips moving with his own and felt a rush of happiness. Frank was kissing him back! Frank did want him!
The cold metal of Frank's lip ring soon warmed under Gerard's body heat, and Frank changed the kiss by sucking gently on Gerard's lower lip. Oh God, that was amazing.
The two finally ran out of air and had to separate. Both men were breathing heavily, with twin blushes and passion-filled eyes.
After what seemed like an eternity, Frank spoke.
"Please tell me I'm not being paid for this."
"Hell no," Gerard growled before melding his mouth to Frank's again.
:::::::::: Demolition Lovers ::::::::::
AN: A warning for our younger readers: the next chapter will be SMUT. I promise, nothing important will happen, so you won't miss out on anything. It's gonna be a douple post.
Also, the contest ends on my birthday, December 7th. Feel free to draw any scene in this story, even if it's just Gee burning his hand on his coffee. :)