Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > This Is The First Thing
This Is The First Thing
14 ReviewsFrerard. My first song fic EVER.
Just a little something to help with this bitching writer’s block. It’s my very first song fic as well so I apologise if it’s a little shitty. Song is quite obviously this is the first thing by You Me At Six.
This Is The First Thing
Come a little closer,
As the night gets older
Of you I grow fonder
Just let my hands wonder
“Frank, no...”
“Gerard, don’t be a pussy.”
“I need this job. Need it. If we get caught my boss is going to fucking murder me.”
“Then we won’t get caught.”
“Are you kidding me? You know what I’m...what I’m like.”
“Come on Gerard! The bigger the risk, the bigger the thrill, right? Unless you just don’t want to.”
“Shut up. You know I want to. It’s just-”
“-What? What, then?”
I bit my lip and looked away so that I didn’t have to see the hurt in your eyes. Your shoulders had sunk in resignation and you were frowning. I hated myself when I saw you frown. “You don’t want to.”
“It’s not that!” I said truthfully, a pink flush creeping across my cheeks.
“What then?”
I shook my head, too embarrassed to say. Your face softened as you took my hand, warm against my cold, clammy skin. “Gerard, look at me. Look at me. I want to do this. I’ve wanted to do this for a very long time. But if you don’t, that’s fine. We have forever at our feet.”
I looked at you. You looked as nervous as I did even though I knew it wasn’t your first time. I thought about how much I loved you, how much I wanted to be with you and I felt myself nod, the nerves disintegrating into nothing. You squeezed my hand and led me backwards gently before closing the store cupboard door.
This is the first thing I thought
This is the last thing I want
You were the first one I loved
You were the first love I lost
I remember the taste of you on my tongue. I remember your lips on my neck, winding down, down across my chest, my stomach, my collarbone. I remember the heat of your skin against mine as I pushed you up against the shelves of that tiny, cramped space. Your thighs pressing in on my hips, pulling me closer against you, every muscle tense, every breath haggard. I remember you gasping my name and I remember me screaming yours when I thought I would explode with happiness. I remember collapsing across your bare chest as you stroked my hair. I remember being unable to stop smiling.
“You could have just said,” you whispered.
“I could have said what?”
“That this was your first time.”
“You could tell?” I asked, suddenly nervous. “Was I okay?”
You laughed but not unkindly and somehow that reassured me. Then you leaned close so that you were millimetres from my ear. “The best.”
We stayed like that for a while, me flushed with contentment and you resuming the stroking of my hair but then I remembered where we were. “Frank,” I said urgently. “You have to go.”
You pulled a face. “In a bit.”
“No, now,” I shook my head. “We don’t have much time-”
“-Time?” you interrupted me. “Time is the one thing we do have.”
But you got up, snatched your shirt from the floor and pulled it on before holding out your hand to pull me up. I took it, grinning, filled with an elation I’d never felt before as I followed you out of the store cupboard.
You left it too late
To change the way I think
Never say never again
Those words will never ever pass my lips
Throughout the whole show my eyes never left you once. Coming home, back to the place that made you, causes you to remember things you thought you’d forgotten. I could never forget that time we ran from the skinheads pelting after us, laughing so hard it hurt and watching you as you played with your trademark exuberance only caused the memory to hit me harder.
Sweat streamed down your face, sticking to your hair and smudging your eyeliner as you hammered harder at the instrument which seemed to be a part of you, almost as I was. You looked up and caught my eye, flashing that infamous grin and I winked back, the screaming of the crowd only personifying what every cell of my body yearned for. After the show, your eyes said hungrily. After the show.
After the show we waited until the others had gone to bed and then began the feverish bumping of hips, the shredding of clothes to the floor and the gasping of names and exclamations of lust. It had been too long since and we needed this rare piece of comfort, needed it with urgency because everything else seemed so uncertain. And when we were done, instead of stroking my hair and telling me I was the best, we sat on the sofa and watched TV without the sound on.
“Great show, huh?” you said.
“Yeah,” I nodded. “Nothing beats coming home.”
You nodded and passed me a cigarette, ignoring the “No Smoking” signs stapled to the walls. I took it gratefully and waited for what you were going to say next.
“We need to talk about sleeping arrangements for tomorrow,” you began, your voice flat and monotonous. “For when...for when LynZ gets here.”
I nodded but inside I felt hollow. “Okay,” I shrugged. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
“Or, like, now.”
I sighed, feeling your eyes on me. I didn’t want to talk. The only thing that mattered now was you and me and what had passed between us. Everything else I wanted to forget. “Tomorrow,” I said. “I’m tired.”
“You’re always tired when she’s brought up,” you replied irritably, flicking ash onto the carpet. “Not now, I’m tired. Shut up, I’m tired. I hope you’ve got enough energy for when she arrives or she’s going to have a hard time enjoying herself.”
“Can we not talk about this please?” I snapped.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s uncomfortable.”
“How is it uncomfortable?”
“You make it uncomfortable.”
“How am I making it uncomfortable? I just wanna have a conversation and then there you go with your “I’m tired” thing. Can we not do that? Can we not have a conversation or does our relationship purely consist of mindless fucking-”
“-It’s just uncomfortable, okay?” I nearly shouted. “Just...drop it.”
You did, wearing a scowl on your face I hardly ever saw. I turned away from you, burning with self-righteous anger that was slowly bubbling to the surface. “You’re such an asshole sometimes,” I shot childishly.
Your eyebrows disappeared into your fringe. “I’m the asshole? What, because I didn’t kiss you before we fucked or something?”
“Oh, fuck you.”
“I’m not a romantic person Gerard, if you’re looking for love you’re looking in the wrong place-”
“Shut up,” I retorted. “I don’t love you anymore than you love me.”
A damn lie but you bought it. “Good,” you said, satisfied. “Glad we sorted that out.”
It was as if you’d just struck me across the face. Slowly, I rose to my feet. “I’m going to bed,” I stated shortly. You said nothing.
Once I was in my room I stayed up a little longer, telling myself that this was all your fault.
This is the first thing I thought
This is the last thing I want
You were the first one I loved
You were the first one I lost
“How could you do this to me?”
You asked it wide-eyed and innocent though each word felt like a needle stabbed into my flesh. I opened my mouth but no sound came out. That’s when the tears started falling.
“How could you do this to me?” came again. “After all this...after everything?”
“I’m sorry,” I gasped thickly. “I thought...I didn’t think you’d...”
“You didn’t think I’d care?” you yelled. “Is that it? You think I’d be okay with this?”
“What, you think you have some say in how I live my life?” I retorted with more confidence than I felt. “I don’t need your permission to do anything!”
Your hands shot up to your head and ran through your hair. You were breathing quickly and for a second I thought you were going to die there and then but instead you kicked over a lamp and it fell, shattering to the floor. “FUCK!” you screamed, tears streaming down your face. “You asshole, fuck you!”
“You have no right to be mad at me!” I shouted back. “You don’t love me. You said so yourself!”
Instead of answering you kicked over the coffee table. I watched, unable to do anything, feeling like the whole world was crumbling around me.
“I loved you,” I managed to stutter. “So, so much. But to you it was fucking. Just mindless fucking. You told me that so many times.”
“I only said that because I didn’t think you could be so STUPID!” you cried. “How could you marry her? You don’t love her, Gerard. You think you do but you don’t.”
“Don’t tell me what I think!” I spat. “You don’t know...you don’t know anything!”
This is the first thing I thought
There was a thud as you fell to the floor, your head in your hands. I still couldn’t move. I just stood there, watching my tears roll off my chin and onto the carpet. Time stood still for us at that moment and I thought back to when we were seventeen years old and the most we had to worry about was getting caught screwing in the boss’ store cupboard. The words you said still rang so loudly, time is the one thing we do have.
“It was never going to happen,” I told myself as much as I told him. “Just a teenage illusion. It would never have worked between us.”
Silence followed the statement, a silence that ripped at both our hearts. Soon I couldn’t take it anymore, mumbling an excuse I turned on my heel and left. I didn’t look back.
This is the first thing I thought
This is the last thing I want
You are the first one I loved
You were the first love I lost
This is the first thing I thought
This is the last thing I want
You are the first one I loved
You were the first love I lost
I would have spotted you anywhere. Seven years is a long time to go without seeing someone but I guess some things are more certain than you give them credit for. I wonder, had I changed much in your eyes? Sometimes I would look in the mirror and not recognise myself. Those days were the worst.
You stopped a few feet from me and for a moment we just looked at each other. You had taken out your piercings and my hair was back to its natural colour, it was as if for the first time there were no barriers between us.
“You look well,” I stated the obvious for lack of things to say.
You laughed. “It’s good to see you again, Gerard.”
How could it be so awkward after so many years had passed? Your gaze had drifted to a little girl playing on the swings, a girl with my eyes. The corners of your mouth twitched slightly.
“You could have just said,” I stated suddenly.
“I could have said what?”
“How you felt. Things could have been different.”
“I could say the same thing to you,” you shrugged. “But you didn’t and neither did I and things aren’t different.”
I could feel the tears begin to prick my eyeballs and I willed them to go away, blinking repeatedly. I hadn’t expected seeing you again to hit me so hard, then again, I don’t really know what I expected. “It’s you,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s always been you. You were the first one I ever loved and if I’d only told you...fuck, why didn’t I tell you?”
At this you did something I didn’t expect. You reached for my hand and you held it briefly, rubbing my knuckles with your thumb. The contact made me jump and wish for something more and then you whispered back, “You were the first as well. And always the best.”
With that you let go of my hand and gave me a small, sad smile which I returned. So much had passed in seven years, things that could never be put at rest. And even though you turned out to be wrong, even though we had limited time just like everyone does, I just wanted you to know that it was the time of my life.
Never say never say never again
I’ll never say never say never again
Never say never say never again
I’ll never say never say never again.
Oh dear, tell me it wasn't awful? I have a feeling it was. Let me know what you think! :D
This Is The First Thing
Come a little closer,
As the night gets older
Of you I grow fonder
Just let my hands wonder
“Frank, no...”
“Gerard, don’t be a pussy.”
“I need this job. Need it. If we get caught my boss is going to fucking murder me.”
“Then we won’t get caught.”
“Are you kidding me? You know what I’m...what I’m like.”
“Come on Gerard! The bigger the risk, the bigger the thrill, right? Unless you just don’t want to.”
“Shut up. You know I want to. It’s just-”
“-What? What, then?”
I bit my lip and looked away so that I didn’t have to see the hurt in your eyes. Your shoulders had sunk in resignation and you were frowning. I hated myself when I saw you frown. “You don’t want to.”
“It’s not that!” I said truthfully, a pink flush creeping across my cheeks.
“What then?”
I shook my head, too embarrassed to say. Your face softened as you took my hand, warm against my cold, clammy skin. “Gerard, look at me. Look at me. I want to do this. I’ve wanted to do this for a very long time. But if you don’t, that’s fine. We have forever at our feet.”
I looked at you. You looked as nervous as I did even though I knew it wasn’t your first time. I thought about how much I loved you, how much I wanted to be with you and I felt myself nod, the nerves disintegrating into nothing. You squeezed my hand and led me backwards gently before closing the store cupboard door.
This is the first thing I thought
This is the last thing I want
You were the first one I loved
You were the first love I lost
I remember the taste of you on my tongue. I remember your lips on my neck, winding down, down across my chest, my stomach, my collarbone. I remember the heat of your skin against mine as I pushed you up against the shelves of that tiny, cramped space. Your thighs pressing in on my hips, pulling me closer against you, every muscle tense, every breath haggard. I remember you gasping my name and I remember me screaming yours when I thought I would explode with happiness. I remember collapsing across your bare chest as you stroked my hair. I remember being unable to stop smiling.
“You could have just said,” you whispered.
“I could have said what?”
“That this was your first time.”
“You could tell?” I asked, suddenly nervous. “Was I okay?”
You laughed but not unkindly and somehow that reassured me. Then you leaned close so that you were millimetres from my ear. “The best.”
We stayed like that for a while, me flushed with contentment and you resuming the stroking of my hair but then I remembered where we were. “Frank,” I said urgently. “You have to go.”
You pulled a face. “In a bit.”
“No, now,” I shook my head. “We don’t have much time-”
“-Time?” you interrupted me. “Time is the one thing we do have.”
But you got up, snatched your shirt from the floor and pulled it on before holding out your hand to pull me up. I took it, grinning, filled with an elation I’d never felt before as I followed you out of the store cupboard.
You left it too late
To change the way I think
Never say never again
Those words will never ever pass my lips
Throughout the whole show my eyes never left you once. Coming home, back to the place that made you, causes you to remember things you thought you’d forgotten. I could never forget that time we ran from the skinheads pelting after us, laughing so hard it hurt and watching you as you played with your trademark exuberance only caused the memory to hit me harder.
Sweat streamed down your face, sticking to your hair and smudging your eyeliner as you hammered harder at the instrument which seemed to be a part of you, almost as I was. You looked up and caught my eye, flashing that infamous grin and I winked back, the screaming of the crowd only personifying what every cell of my body yearned for. After the show, your eyes said hungrily. After the show.
After the show we waited until the others had gone to bed and then began the feverish bumping of hips, the shredding of clothes to the floor and the gasping of names and exclamations of lust. It had been too long since and we needed this rare piece of comfort, needed it with urgency because everything else seemed so uncertain. And when we were done, instead of stroking my hair and telling me I was the best, we sat on the sofa and watched TV without the sound on.
“Great show, huh?” you said.
“Yeah,” I nodded. “Nothing beats coming home.”
You nodded and passed me a cigarette, ignoring the “No Smoking” signs stapled to the walls. I took it gratefully and waited for what you were going to say next.
“We need to talk about sleeping arrangements for tomorrow,” you began, your voice flat and monotonous. “For when...for when LynZ gets here.”
I nodded but inside I felt hollow. “Okay,” I shrugged. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
“Or, like, now.”
I sighed, feeling your eyes on me. I didn’t want to talk. The only thing that mattered now was you and me and what had passed between us. Everything else I wanted to forget. “Tomorrow,” I said. “I’m tired.”
“You’re always tired when she’s brought up,” you replied irritably, flicking ash onto the carpet. “Not now, I’m tired. Shut up, I’m tired. I hope you’ve got enough energy for when she arrives or she’s going to have a hard time enjoying herself.”
“Can we not talk about this please?” I snapped.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s uncomfortable.”
“How is it uncomfortable?”
“You make it uncomfortable.”
“How am I making it uncomfortable? I just wanna have a conversation and then there you go with your “I’m tired” thing. Can we not do that? Can we not have a conversation or does our relationship purely consist of mindless fucking-”
“-It’s just uncomfortable, okay?” I nearly shouted. “Just...drop it.”
You did, wearing a scowl on your face I hardly ever saw. I turned away from you, burning with self-righteous anger that was slowly bubbling to the surface. “You’re such an asshole sometimes,” I shot childishly.
Your eyebrows disappeared into your fringe. “I’m the asshole? What, because I didn’t kiss you before we fucked or something?”
“Oh, fuck you.”
“I’m not a romantic person Gerard, if you’re looking for love you’re looking in the wrong place-”
“Shut up,” I retorted. “I don’t love you anymore than you love me.”
A damn lie but you bought it. “Good,” you said, satisfied. “Glad we sorted that out.”
It was as if you’d just struck me across the face. Slowly, I rose to my feet. “I’m going to bed,” I stated shortly. You said nothing.
Once I was in my room I stayed up a little longer, telling myself that this was all your fault.
This is the first thing I thought
This is the last thing I want
You were the first one I loved
You were the first one I lost
“How could you do this to me?”
You asked it wide-eyed and innocent though each word felt like a needle stabbed into my flesh. I opened my mouth but no sound came out. That’s when the tears started falling.
“How could you do this to me?” came again. “After all this...after everything?”
“I’m sorry,” I gasped thickly. “I thought...I didn’t think you’d...”
“You didn’t think I’d care?” you yelled. “Is that it? You think I’d be okay with this?”
“What, you think you have some say in how I live my life?” I retorted with more confidence than I felt. “I don’t need your permission to do anything!”
Your hands shot up to your head and ran through your hair. You were breathing quickly and for a second I thought you were going to die there and then but instead you kicked over a lamp and it fell, shattering to the floor. “FUCK!” you screamed, tears streaming down your face. “You asshole, fuck you!”
“You have no right to be mad at me!” I shouted back. “You don’t love me. You said so yourself!”
Instead of answering you kicked over the coffee table. I watched, unable to do anything, feeling like the whole world was crumbling around me.
“I loved you,” I managed to stutter. “So, so much. But to you it was fucking. Just mindless fucking. You told me that so many times.”
“I only said that because I didn’t think you could be so STUPID!” you cried. “How could you marry her? You don’t love her, Gerard. You think you do but you don’t.”
“Don’t tell me what I think!” I spat. “You don’t know...you don’t know anything!”
This is the first thing I thought
There was a thud as you fell to the floor, your head in your hands. I still couldn’t move. I just stood there, watching my tears roll off my chin and onto the carpet. Time stood still for us at that moment and I thought back to when we were seventeen years old and the most we had to worry about was getting caught screwing in the boss’ store cupboard. The words you said still rang so loudly, time is the one thing we do have.
“It was never going to happen,” I told myself as much as I told him. “Just a teenage illusion. It would never have worked between us.”
Silence followed the statement, a silence that ripped at both our hearts. Soon I couldn’t take it anymore, mumbling an excuse I turned on my heel and left. I didn’t look back.
This is the first thing I thought
This is the last thing I want
You are the first one I loved
You were the first love I lost
This is the first thing I thought
This is the last thing I want
You are the first one I loved
You were the first love I lost
I would have spotted you anywhere. Seven years is a long time to go without seeing someone but I guess some things are more certain than you give them credit for. I wonder, had I changed much in your eyes? Sometimes I would look in the mirror and not recognise myself. Those days were the worst.
You stopped a few feet from me and for a moment we just looked at each other. You had taken out your piercings and my hair was back to its natural colour, it was as if for the first time there were no barriers between us.
“You look well,” I stated the obvious for lack of things to say.
You laughed. “It’s good to see you again, Gerard.”
How could it be so awkward after so many years had passed? Your gaze had drifted to a little girl playing on the swings, a girl with my eyes. The corners of your mouth twitched slightly.
“You could have just said,” I stated suddenly.
“I could have said what?”
“How you felt. Things could have been different.”
“I could say the same thing to you,” you shrugged. “But you didn’t and neither did I and things aren’t different.”
I could feel the tears begin to prick my eyeballs and I willed them to go away, blinking repeatedly. I hadn’t expected seeing you again to hit me so hard, then again, I don’t really know what I expected. “It’s you,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s always been you. You were the first one I ever loved and if I’d only told you...fuck, why didn’t I tell you?”
At this you did something I didn’t expect. You reached for my hand and you held it briefly, rubbing my knuckles with your thumb. The contact made me jump and wish for something more and then you whispered back, “You were the first as well. And always the best.”
With that you let go of my hand and gave me a small, sad smile which I returned. So much had passed in seven years, things that could never be put at rest. And even though you turned out to be wrong, even though we had limited time just like everyone does, I just wanted you to know that it was the time of my life.
Never say never say never again
I’ll never say never say never again
Never say never say never again
I’ll never say never say never again.
Oh dear, tell me it wasn't awful? I have a feeling it was. Let me know what you think! :D
Log in to rate and review this story