Back before wives and kids, Gerard finds himself in a messy (and violent) spot with Frank. An unlikely knight in shining armor comes in the form of Bert McCracken. Oneshot.
From what I understand of this, one of the black eye's Gerard had was real, and the rest of the look was created to cover up the fact that someone hit him. Just showing you guys as a measure of what Gerard is supposed to look like by the end of this fanfic.
Dirty Little Secret
He was drunk again.
A blur of black shot downward as Gerard ducked out of the way of the spinning saucer that exploded into the wall behind him, shards of porcelain making tinkling noises as they fell to the tour bus floor.
Frank wasted no time in grabbing another one. Gerard was only grateful that his intoxication made it so he could not aim properly, otherwise Gerard could guess that he'd have a plate coming out of both sides of his head.
"You fucking cunt! I do fucking everything for this band!" Frank bellowed, "And you can't fucking give me ten fucking minutes of your fucking time!"
"Frank, I'm sorry -- I was just tired when I said no, let's just do it, okay?" Gerard braved moving closer to the angry little man in front of him, attempting to plant a kiss on his screaming lips.
Strong hands pushed him away roughly, and Gerard stumbled backwards.
"Fuck off." Frank spat, "You've made your desires clear."
Gerard hung back for a moment, as silence filled the stunned air. Frank looked as though he was about to walk away into the bunks and Gerard nearly let him. But there was a duty he had, a certain protocol that Gerard felt he should follow, that they had always followed:
No fight should ever be walked away from unfinished, left to linger in the air and gather thickness until it crashed on their heads years down the road.
"Frankie, please. Don't be mad, I wasn't thinking was all..." Gerard spoke gently, coming up slowly behind Frank like someone trying to lure an animal out of its hiding spot. He became within arm's reach of Frank and he laid his hand upon the tattooed arm of his secret lover.
Until that point, Frank had not bothered to look at Gerard. It was only then that he turned his head so that Gerard could see his face. Yet to Frank, the sight of his companions face did not stir any positive emotions. His face contorted into a snarl.
"Gerard, let go of me."
"Lets just go inside! I'll do anything you want me to!"
"I'm going inside. You, get off. I'm not going to tell you again, Gerard."
Frank jerked forward, and tried to relinquish his extremity from Gerard's prying claws -- but Gerard pulled back. A defensive instinct inside Frank leapt up to the control center of his brain, and he spun around again. Gerard had no time to brace himself before a row of piercing knuckles collided into his left eye.
The bulk of black clothing and hair let out a screech as he cradled the area with both his hands. A few seconds after, the uncovered eye was looking at Frank with a wideness that indicated his shock and dismay. Frank merely observed the damage, then, with a nearly bored expression, turned away to walk into the bunk room.
Even with Frank having retreated, Gerard felt a chill run through his spine.
It was almost like he was scared of Frank. But he was bigger than Frank --- he had nothing to fear, right? Yet it was not only the fact that Frank had punched him as hard as he had, but also the fact that Frank had never hit him before.
What if he comes back, deciding he had not inflicted enough pain?
In a moment completely brought on by paranoia, Gerard put on his hoodie and walked out of the bus, leaving Frank to himself. He placed the hood over his head and pulled the strings.
He knew he would feel safer staying somewhere else that night -- at least until Mikey, Ray, and Bob came back from their hukka party.
He began to power walk forward and disappeared into the night.
"Gerard? What are you doing out so late?"
Next thing he know, Gerard was staring into the piercing eyes of Bert McCracken, the front man of The Used. He had seen that their bus tour bus light's were on, despite the fact that he had believed the members of this group to have gone to the party as well. But judging from what Gerard could see, Bert was alone. He felt a small and surprising bit of relief.
"Can I come in?" Gerard asked rather forwardly, but he was not exactly in the best mood to be watching his manners.
Bert looked back into his own bus for a moment, as if checking if the coast was clear. After a moment he said, "Yeah... sure."
"Is it a bad time?" Gerard asked, remembering some of his etiquette.
"No, just the place is pretty trashed --- but it can't look that much worse that your guys'." Bert shrugged, stepping aside. Gerard walked in, and found Bert to be right --- it held the appearance of a small home in the aftermath of a twister. A large assortment of things were laid out on the floors, even hanging off of table tops. But Gerard had little time to absorb all this before he heard Bert exclaim, "Dude, what happened to your eye?!?"
Gerard hadn't realized how close he and Bert were. Only now did he feel the boy's stare on him, or smell the marijuana laced scent of his breath.
"My eye?...Oh." Gerard had almost forgotten about it. His hand automatically moved to the corner of the mentioned body part, and he felt pain rush through the area at the slightest touch. Was it bruising already? Damned pale complexion.
"Frank and I got in a fight." he explained bluntly, surprised at himself for not making up some other lie to cover the truth. That's what he typically did in matters regarding the tattoo covered boy that was now alone in their trailer. Maybe, Gerard wondered, some part of him wanted to talk about this.
He had yet to tell any of his other band mates about the growing relationship between him and Iero, even keeping secrets from his own little brother. While Bert was somewhat a good friend, it would make no sense of Gerard to tell him much of anything. Yet his lips were itching to release its heartaches.
"So he punched you?" Bert raised an eyebrow, "Damn, Gee, what did you do?"
Gerard smiled abashedly before admitting, "I told him we couldn't have any sex tonight because I felt too tired."
Bert gaped. "I knew it! I knew you were fucking Iero!"
Then his expression fell slightly as realization hit, a crease in his forehead becoming more and more prominent.
"That's a pretty shit reason to hit you, though." he said lowly, his eyes scanning Gerard's face again. Gerard felt uncomfortable as Bert scrutinized him. "Did Mikey see?"
Gerard shook his head, "No, we were alone."
"You know your little bro isn't going to stand for this though." Bert remarked, as he went about making Gerard a cup of coffee. Gerard nodded without saying anything. His little brother Mikey, despite his awkward, nonthreatening appearance tended to become quite the fighter in matters of defending his family. He was most of the reason Gerard had kept his and Frank's relationship on the down low -- Gerard knew how easily it could complicate things within the band.
He felt something warm gently brush his hand. Gerard looked up to see Bert handing him a mug of smoking hot coffee. He smiled and took it graciously, even basking in its scent before taking his first sip. It was like liquid comfort pouring into his mouth.
"Mikey doesn't know about me and Frank though --- neither does Ray or Bob. We like to keep it a secret." Gerard explained.
"So then why did you tell me?" asked Bert curiously.
"Dunno, might have something to do with the black eye." Gerard shrugged again, alternating between intervals of talking and sipping coffee.
"Do you want me to fuck him up for you?"
"Then how can I help?!?" Bert seemed confused as to why Gerard had come to him at all.
"I don't need you to." said Gerard, "The coffee was enough anyway. Thanks for that."
"So how are you going to explain the black eye to them then?"
"To Mikey, Ray, and Bob. You know -- since its supposed to be a secret and all."
"I don't know. I guess I can always say that Frank just punched me because we got into a fight over something else." Gerard scowled then, "It would be believable..."
"Pfft." Bert scoffed, blowing a few strands of long, greasy hair out of his face. "I never liked him much. Always did seem like kind of a jackass."
"No, he's awesome most of the time," Gerard was quick to argue, "He just has temper issues."
"Those aren't usually good issues to have." Bert retorted, removing some papers off the coffee table, and revealing a bundle of greens that Gerard could only assume was the same mary jane he had had earlier.
"Come on, while you're here, you can help me break this up. If you do, I'll let you have a joint." Bert told him. Gerard agreed and placed down his coffee mug, leaning forward to break loose pieces of the green bundle before him.
He wondered if Frank was feeling sorry at all for what he had done.
"Do you love him?"
It was a question he had asked himself in his head so many times, Gerard did not realize at first that it was Bert asking. Once he did, he nearly jumped -- the question made him jittery.
"Not really -- I mean, I don't know -- maybe, but I..."
Bert chuckled, "Never mind. I have my answer from the expression on your face."
"I have an expression."
"If you call turning a deep red color is an expression, then yeah." Bert smirked.
"Well it doesn't matter either way." Gerard reasoned, "He doesn't feel the same way. He's made that perfectly clear."
His hand went to his eye again. He felt a small amount of swelling. He winced.
"I'll get you some ice for that." Bert offered.
"Nah." sighed Gerard, "I''m more worried about what I'm going to tell the other guys."
Bert paused, and Gerard spent the next few seconds fishing out stems from under his nails. Finally Bert said, "I have an idea."
Bert grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him further into the bus, taking them both into the drawers that were mostly covered in tools for make up.
He sat Gerard down and picked up an assortment of colorful pencils, mostly autumn colors, along with a tub of foundation.
"Close your eyes." Bert commanded. Gerard itched to ask what he was plotting, but decided to trust Bert. He closed his eyelids, and allowed Bert to paw at his face with a variety of things for the next thirty to forty minutes. Gerard felt random lines being drawn on with the pencils, and he became more and more confused. By the time Bert told him it was okay to look, his eyes were already slightly open, his curiosity at a boiling point.
Gerard nearly jumped at the sight that met him when he first got a look at himself. He looked like some fat zombie out of a horror movie. There were fake scars like stab wounds all over his cheeks, and his right eye now matched his left.
"There. Now you can tell everyone that it's a new stage look of yours." said Bert, looking proud of the work he had done.
"Yeah, wow I look awesome!" Gerard grinned at himself, and then at Bert. "I might actually keep this up after the black eye is gone. Thanks!"
"No problem." Bert told him, "You do look pretty sweet, and no one would ever know. I can't imagine how anyone could hit this pretty face though."
He ran a finger under Gerard's chin, and Gerard literally felt himself flush. "You're a such a kidder.", he laughed awkwardly. Bert shook his head slowly, bringing his face closer to Gerard's.
He leaned in, and their lips grazed each other gently before they met more firmly, latching on and sucking. Bert and Gerard had both been around quite a bit, and they were both experienced kissers -- so much so that it seemed like one was trying to upstage the other and vice versa.
They stayed lip locked for a long time before Gerard felt a cold hand go under his shirt, slithering upwards. He grabbed Bert's wrist abruptly and pulled away.
"Don't." he whispered sternly.
Bert froze slightly before taking a step backwards. "Okay. I'm sorry." he threw his hands back as though to show that he held no weapons. Gerard looked remorseful.
"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done what I did -- I'm just... I'm still with Frank and all."
Bert looked miffed at his explanation, "So what? He's got Jamia, he just uses you when he needs it."
A surge of anger rose up in Gerard like bile in his throat. "That's not true!" he snapped, "He's planning to break it off with her some day. He's just waiting until he's not on tour."
"Yeah, I'm sure." Bert rolled his eyes. "I suppose the black eye is just a testament of his promises to you."
Gerard growled slightly, his delusions about him and Frank having been challenged. This was another reason why he hadn't wanted to tell the guys, why he shouldn't have told Bert.
"I think I need to go back now.", he said meekly, his eyes on his steel toed boots.
"Yeah, I guess you should." sighed Bert, now looking remorseful himself. Gerard could tell he wanted more, but he really did have to get back -- the guys should have returned already, and they needed to leave early in the morning.
"Thank you for the help -- and the coffee." Gerard tried to smile at him before turning to walk out the door. When he reached the lever to pull the door open, he was slightly disappointed to see that Bert was not making an effort to follow him or walk him out.
He pulled the lever and he was on the first step of the bus stairs when he heard Bert call out his name.
"Gerard!" he said, with the air of someone who had been itching to speak for a while, "If he hits you again -- you let me know, yeah?"
Gerard grinned again. "Maybe.", he said without even looking back at who he was speaking to. He stepped off the bus, and the door closed behind him.
Back in their own tour bus, Gerard's new "look" was met with first shock, and finally awe. Mikey remarked that he might try to imitate the look himself, while Ray contemplated utilizing the idea in their next music video. Frank caught his eye, but then looked away -- he knew that Gerard's story about having made up the look on his own was a fib. He wondered if Frank was even curious as to how the look really came to be. He wondered what Frank would think if he knew he had been with Bert tonight.
Yet Gerard did not bother to satisfy his curiosity -- he only relished in the idea that he perhaps had someone new to come to.
No one would ever know.