FRERARD ONESHOT Frank is of course, a catholic boy, and Gerard... Well is Gerard.
Gerard walks alone, head bent downward, hiding his red swollen eyes. He passes his friends and enemies alike as he ignores the world, content with just himself and his thoughts, consuming him. He steps inside St. Johns Catholic Church and sits in the back of the rows of pews. He eyes the people around him, the misfits like him, not really belonging, but not standing out either. They stare blankly ahead as they inwardly brace themselves for the bloodbath of guilt that repeats every time Father Nicholas opens his mouth for his weekly “Cleansing Sermon”.
More people file in, the super godly people taking their usual seats in the front, so close to Father that they could probably smell the stale stench of whiskey that forever clung to his robes- that is if they weren't so focused on how “dedicated to GOD” he was. With the super godly people walked Frank Iero. Gerard's eyes followed him as he walked stiffly towards the front, his khaki trousers and pressed polo shirt hugging his thin frame. He sits down, fidgeting uncomfortably in his own perfectly pale, luscious skin.
Now Frank Iero was a short boy, around maybe 5'4” and skinny. In fact, It was a widely spread rumor that he was bulimic. Many of the boys swear they walked into a school bathroom puking right after lunch. The same boys, however, believe that Frank is also secretly gay. So If I was you, which I am not, for I am me, but if I was you, I would take their opinion with a nice grain of salt. Or perhaps two. Or more. That depends on how salty you like your lacrosse players really. I prefer mine with a ton of salt, I'm not a fan of jocks anyway, they always taste too testosterone-y for my taste buds.
And of course, Frank Iero is not gay. No that would be ridiculous and nonsensical to the highest possible point ever. Which, might I say, is fairly high. Higher than the druggies, Gerard's “friends”. They were almost permanently high, and for the girls, pregnant also. High on Pregnancy. ?
Now Gerard, on the other hand, was completely gay. He has been so since 7th grade, well actually he was most likely gay since the day he was born. Maybe even in his past life. Unless he was a women, another popular rumor that was spread. All I can say, well actually I could say more, but I won't because I'm just a narrator until this story picks up a bit. Anyway, all I will say is that if Gerard Way was indeed a girl, he would be very flat chested, and therefor might be ashamed of his breasts, or lack thereof. So maybe It is a possibility. Thats for you to decide.
Now The Holy Bible states that homosexuality is wrong, so why would openly gay Gerard want to go to a place where discrimination and shunning him was welcome? Just one, small, reason:
Frank went to church here. Its really that simple. Yes, Gerard had become quite infatuated with the strict catholic boy. He started following him to church every Sunday and Wednesday since he was in Junior High. He was now a Senior, and still has yet to say a single word to the object of his affections. His family, just his younger brother Mikey and mother, had started to accept the fact that Gerard wanted to get up early every Sunday to go to church for some unknown reason. Mikey's theory was that he liked feeling forgiven after a weeks worth of drugs and alcohol. Donna's was much more atrocious, she thought he might have developed a crush on the priest, the old and balding man, but she didn't know what Father Nicholas looked like.
No, Gerard was content with watching and waiting until he graduates and goes off to a fancy art school in England and can forget about the permanently unavailable-for-him Frank Iero, with the gorgeous eyes and talented hands. For the guitar.
And as the congregation filed out after service, one would think that today was the day, finally the day that Gerard would attempt a conversation, or at least try and catch the devote Catholics eye. But no, Gerard was not a particularly confident one, so he simply bowed his head, ignoring the hushed whispers of “sinner”, and hurried out into the blinding daylight. I bet you were all expecting me to start at the part where they finally talk, but no, I need to explain things before I stalk them even more. Frank had indeed heard the rumors, that Gerard was a transvestite. But he simply couldn't believe that Gerard, with the beautiful voice, and high-pitched giggle could be anything more than extremely homosexual. Now Frank, unlike many Catholics, was not opposed to homosexuals, in fact he knew several that he respected and looked up to. But he could and would never admit that. No that would be frowned upon. Still, he couldn't help but wonder it would be like to have a friend that would talk, not pray, just chat. Or to have a friend that would huddle around a television and watch horror movies with him all night long. A few times at church Frank would catch Gerard looking at him, not in a bad way, just with his gaze lingering on him more than what was considered normal to his family. And it flattered Frank, no Frank was not gay, he just thought Gerard was very attractive. His family, however noticed Franks sinful glances and thought the worst. Catholics tend to do that. Not all, just the ones that appear in this particular story.
One Sunday in the middle of the school year, Frank did something that shocked the entire congregation, that raised outrage, that threw off the complete social standing of the layers of Godlyness, that completely scandalized his name, Frank sat by Gerard. Just sat. Nodded a simple acknowledgment to the other misfits. But of course, not for the reason you no doubt are fantasizing about in your head, but for an entirely different reason whatsoever. In fact, that certain reason would have been known if Gerard had not been so surprised and shy at Franks sudden appearance, he might have noticed the faint trace of something almost looking like eyeliner smudged around his eyes, puffy from crying, and the red blotch on his pale face. Gerard of course, did not make conversation with his walking obsession, just kept his eyes down at his bible and hid behind a jet black curtain of hair, and peeked at Frank every so often. Frank was not a complete wreak that morning and could feel every time that Gerard glanced at him, which was, strangely, quite a lot. Eventually, Frank got bored with the concept of his usual game, which was pretending to pay attention to Father, and instead counted every time Gerard looked at him. He became so amused with his little game that he could start predicting the looks and looked at Gerard opposite of Gerard looking at him. It was a silent battle that ended because of Gerard being flustered and looking too early, causing them to make eye contact. Their eyes flashed to each other, calling out for them, then quickly flickered away before the other got suspicious. Which was pointless of course because they both were participating in the silent glance game.
Suddenly and all-too-soon for both of their liking, Father Nicholas dismissed the church and blessed them. Frank was scheduled for confession but decided to skip for the first time in his life, and hurried out the huge regal doors where Gerard had disappeared through just a half minute before. He then realized a major dilemma: he had no ride home. He would have to walk. He thought of the reason why, he thought of why his parents had completely freaked out because he tried outline his eyes with his moms eyeliner. Frank just couldn't see what the big deal was, Linda (his mom) had always told Frank that his eyes were pretty and he just wanted to accent them. It didn't mean he was gay or anything, he just cared about how he looked. Seriously. Yup thats it. Totally. What sarcasm? Nope thats defiantly not sarcasm. Well stop thinking it is because it isn't. Weirdo.
Frank shook out his thoughts from where they were hiding in his hair, speaking to him. They fell like little specks of dust down onto the ground, or got carried away in the wind. Yes, soon his thoughts were scattered and homeless, until they found their way to another being to latch onto. Frank started walking, but to where? He really didn't want to go home yet, where his family will undoubtedly we waiting to ambush him with speeches if “purification” and “finding your path that you've strayed from”. His corners of his mouth slowly pulled upward, a rare occurrence for him, as he remembered that a record store was somewhere in town. So mechanically, he picked up his neatly shined shoes and brought them back down in what he hoped looked like a tough “gangsta” walk. However, he couldn't quite pull it off, perhaps because he was too happy looking, or perhaps because he was wearing his Sunday clothes, neatly ironed and crisp. Note to self: Buy looser clothing for Frank so he will at least won't look like a Presidents son.
The walked took a good half hours time, but alas, it was not in vain for the record store, though small and cramped, had bazillions of CDs. Frank squeezed through the narrow aisles of the dusty room, and went where No Strict Catholic Had Ever Gone Before, The Metal Section. Plays horror movie music. Frank was both fascinated and slightly scared at the abnormal pictures on the covers. Frank longed to listen to some, but knew full well if he did, he might end up liking or dare I say it? ENJOYING the forbidden music. And that would only upset his parents more, and of course, he couldn't do that. Not after all they've done for him. “Hey kid, ya wanna hear that or what?” A gravelly voice behind Frank asked of the Disturbed cd that he has in his hands. “Uhhh well um sure... sir?” Frank hesitated. The man laughed loudly at “Sir”, disrupting the quiet silence that had lingered in the store. “Here kid, knock yerself out, but not really cause the cops make people round here real nervous.” He warns as he takes the cd gently out of the case, and places it into the nearest speaker set and hits a button on top. Heavy strumming and yelling pour out into the air, polluting Franks innocent ears and washing away all feelings of doubt. Frank was not in love by no means. But really is there such thing as love? Isn't love just a deadly combination of rebellion and attraction? Frank was simply blown away by the pure, unholiness of the music and he loved how it made his heart beat, his head spin from the pure mind-boggling music that Father Nicholas would surely call “the pollutant of satanists”. For once, Frank Iero was rebelling. And trying to at the same time. Mm mm multi-taskers. And because it felt so good, so refreshing after years of strictly God, God, God, and Jesus Frank started to crave that raw delicious feeling of rebellion deep inside your soul. He craved it like an alcoholic craves a nice shot of whiskey, he craved it like a dieter craves chocolate, he needed it. Now since Frank had always been a good boy and saved his money for college since he was in his early years, he had quite a sum saved up. He carried a couple hundred dollars in his trusty wallet as his emergency fund, just in case he was stranded and needed to stay at a hotel. Not that Franks parents let him out of their sight for that long anyway. He picked out five random, explicit, albums that looked promising and purchased them, much to the complete shock of the store owner. He walked outside to the blinding noon sun, shining bright and obnoxiously in his eyes. He considered, for a brief moment about going home, but that thought was quickly wiped clean from his mind as he saw a grungy Hot Topic store across the street, and seeing the sign “BOGO Half Off Band Tees” he figured if he was going to have a happy moment in his bland life, he might as well do it throughly. He walked into the empty shop, and almost fainted at the sights before him. On shelves lining the walls, tall pointy heeled hooker boots stood sinfully and openly. Frank hesitantly walks around the bin of various thongs and bras, almost retching at the sight of such private items on display. Quickly, he spots the tee shirts and gathers six of them, the names matching the titles of his cds. A man checks him out at the cluttered, dirty counter. His face sports multiple piercings, and a vine of thorns runs tattooed across his face. Hie eyes are lined and smudged heavily with black eyeliner and he's wearing a shirt that Frank was currently purchasing. “Hey you know Metallica ain't a kinda something you can wear with those church bullshit things.” The man says glancing at Franks neat khakis as he shoves a few shirts into a plastic bag. “Uhh umm well then what does?” Franks asks timidly. “Wow uh sad man you should get some skinnies.” The man says pointing to a rack over in the corner. “Thanks.” Frank whispers as he silently walks towards the racks, at a complete loss of what to do next. His mom had always just bought clothes for him, but he was pretty sure you went to a room and just...put them on? Isn't that unsanitary? Frank thinks as he picks out various shades of jeans, that look too tight to even be humanly possible. The man comes over and leads him to a room. If you could call it that. It was really just a curtain in actuality.
I thinks its been an appropriate amount of time to prepare you for this depressing news: The “friendly” storeman was gay. And a pedophile. A gay pedophile if you wish to combine the two previous sentences. Oh way conserve, to go green. Yay, heres your fucking “Earth's Buddy :)” pin. The “Gay” part should not bother you, if it does, get the hell outta this story. Its just the little nine letter word that bothers me: pedophile. I am quite a terrible observer, forgive me for forgetting to tell you lovely people that this man was also around 35 years old. Frank is 18. Believe me, I'm all for the“ True Love” and “age doesn't matter when your in love” shit but for some reason, I don't think things could ever work out between them. Most importantly because of the fact that Frank isn't gay. Nope. That hasn't changed.
Frank shivered as he pulled off his khakis and tried, and failed to not be creeped out by the man he knew that was standing on the other side of the thin, partially see-through curtain. He hurriedly yanked on a washed out looking pair of black skinnies and decided since the rest were all the same brand, he could just get those too instead of trying on the others as well. “Heyyy kid, lemme see.” The store man purred, waving the curtain a bit. Cowardly, Frank bowed his head and stepped hesitantly through the veil. The store guy blinked. His face slowly took on the scary smirk of a practiced hunter. Frank hurries past him to the tri-mirror, where he watches is horror, as do I, as the man stalks up behind him, placing his hot mouth against Franks ear, whispering. “Hey sweetheart, I never did catch your name.” He sighs. “F-f-rank.” The younger man whispers. “Well thats a pretty name for a pretty little boy, Frankie. Do you wanna know my name Frankie?” The taller asks as he starts tracing circles around Franks lower back. Franks knees start to wobble unsteadily, he wants to scream, he wants to sleep, he wants to cry. Instead, he stays silent. “I said: Would you like to know my name?” The man demands angrily, pushing Frank harshly against a wall. “Yes-s-s” Frank manages to say, amidst his undeniable fear. “Beg me for my name, Frankie.” The man commands, hands flying to Franks zipper, groping whats there, roughly yanking down Franks pants to his absolute joy, and to Franks absolute nightmarish horror. “Please, please sir, please I need your name” Frank whimpers pathetically. “Beg like a bitch son.” The still unnamed man growls as he starts to ravage the skin at Frank's delicate neck. “Please please please, I'll do anything just sto-” he gasps in pain as the man claws at his back, his hairy arms sliding up under Franks polo. “Stan, What the HELL do you think your doing? 'Member boss said, no fucking on the job” A voice says tiredly from the front of the shop. Frank saw this as his chance, his chance to end this violation. “HELP I DON'T WANNA-” Frank manages before “Stan” roughly clamps his huge hand over Franks mouth. “Uhh Stan whats going oh her-” Gerard gasps at the sight before him. Frank Iero. As in, strict catholic Frank Iero. As in HIM. And he was being...touched by Stan, the creepy day guy. And here was Gerard's chance to save him. Gerard summoned his best, most confident voice, strengthened by the presence of Frank, and spoke directly to the creeper. “Stan, you fucking let him go or I will take the video camera recordings right now and send them to the boss, and once again, you will have no job, you fatass.” Stan went pale, let go of Frank, who promptly slid to the floor in relief, and walked through the store, out into the day. Suddenly shy once again, Gerard blushed and looked away as the naked Frank blindly stumbled around the room, looking for his clothes. “Hey thanks Gerard...” Frank finally whispers after he's fully clothed. Gerard, absolutely thrilled that Frank knew his name, stayed silent. At this time, I am sorry to say that I must cut the next 10 minutes or so out because of narrator interference. I'm a god awful stalker and they had caught me, but alas I fear the story isn't over yet.
You see, most people don't take to well to a fellow peer following them around, recording their conversations, and writing down their feelings. Anyway, after I promised I wouldn't follow them, they nervously headed off back towards the church. I of course, follow like the inner creeper within my soul. “Well that was really creepy... Why do ya think she was anyway?” Frank wonders aloud. Gerard shrugs, but I can tell he's telling himself mentally to say something. No not to say something inside his head, hes... nevermind you get it right? Finally, after much shuffling and tripping over his two left feet, Gerard finally mumbles “Why we going back to church?” Frank looks at him, stops walking, then slowly, his face pulls up into a rebellious grin. “You'll see.” Gerard seems to accept this, as he simply walks after Frank. Many minutes of semi-awkward silence later, and they have arrived. Nobody is inside, for everyone is out at some old priests Death Day Celebration. Silently they somehow seem to agree to walk into the sanctuary. They take seats in the front and Frank starts to speak. “All my life, I've had to believe. I believed that my parents were always right, I believed that being gay was wrong, that music is a sin. I just don't know anymore about anything, I feel as though nothing is real. I don't think theres a GOD up there, Gerard.” Frank whispers as he turns ashamedly from Gerard. Gerard however, turns toward his obsession for many years and says the words he himself are ashamed of. “I'm an atheist. The only reason I come to church... Is you.” Frank looks up at Gerard, and smiles. Suddenly, seemingly randomly he asks Gerard. “Do you have a lighter?” He nods yes and digs in his pocket and places it in Franks hand. Frank smiles, leans over and whispers something in Gerard's ear I cannot hear. Frank takes a deep breath, as though summoning strength to breathe, and sets the comfortable pew alight. He reaches over Gerard and lights that on fire. He sit back, satisfied with two small columns of fire on either side.
He rests his head on Gerard's shoulder and Gerard wraps an arm around him. Both boys' clothes are no burning, but neither seem to notice. Slowly Frank tilts his head upwards and places his lips gently on Gerard's. And the last I ever see of those two boys is them sitting in a church, flames enveloping them, their lips pressed against each others, as passion consumes and love sets them alight.
JUST A SHITTY ONESHOT I MADE UP, RATE AND REVIEW PLEASE!
Oh and this is based off my Gay friends horror at trying in clothes one day. CREEPY