FicWad

Frank would be lying if he said that he had expected the visit to the sexual health clinic to go smoothly. He wasn't sure what exactly he'd anticipated, but somehow, in the midst of everything else, he'd forgotten about Gerard's aversion to needles.

It wasn't the morbid terror that some made it out to be, but Way was scared enough to begin fidgeting when the nurse approached him with the syringe to collect the blood sample they needed. He of course had ask what was wrong and asked him to relax. The singer had replied that he couldn't relax and could the nurse just 'please, fucking get on with it?'. Of course the other man had taken offence at this, and what's more, refused to take the sample until Gerard had relaxed appropriately.

From there just went downhill. The longer they waited, the more nervous the frontman became. The more nervous he became, the ruder. The ruder, the more the nurse refused to stab him. It would have been funny if not for the circumstances that lead them to being there. On top of that, it took Frank an embarrassingly long time to figure out what was wrong with his friend.

When he did though, he felt like smacking himself in the head for stupidity. He deserved it really, but thought it would look rather stupid just to randomly punch himself in the face in the middle of the argument between the other two men. Instead, he stood up, and asked the nurse for a private word. Outside, of the room, he explained Gerard's fear of needles, and apologised for his friend's rudeness. The nurse then apologised for his lack of discretion and wondered off, to where, Frank wasn't quite sure. So he just rolled his eyes and when back into the small, private room.

In there, Way was staring out the window, holding the crook of his elbow, where the needle would have gone in.

"You ok?" The guitarist asked, leaning against the wall.

"Yeah, fine, just kinda... stupid." Gerard replied nonchalantly.

"I told the guy you were afraid of needles. He was a bit of a douche."

"Well, I wasn't exactly co-operating."

"Still."

There was a moment of silence, which Frank used to walk forward and stand next to his friend. "What can I do? I know you're scared, but how can I make it easier?"

"You can't." The singer replied sadly. "I'm just being stupid. Need to grow some balls."

Iero laughed softly at that. "Do you want me to hold your hand?" He teased.

"I'm not two." Gerard rolled his eyes, as another nurse came in, this one female.

"Hi guys." She said. "I'm sorry, about Nurse Allen, he's relatively new. Which one of you is having the blood test?"

Way waved, and sat back down on the chair he'd been perched on earlier.

"Right, that's good. Now you, sir? Could you talk to your friend about something? What's on TV tonight, where you're going on holiday next, how your great aunt's doing, you get the idea. And Mr Way, if you could give me your left arm?"

Frank nodded, and crouched down next to Gerard, who was reluctantly holding his arm out. He was at loss as to what to say, but clearly this tactic wasn't going to work, if the singer was still staring at the nurse current wiping disinfectant over one of the prominent veins in the crook of his arm.

"Gee, look at me."

Way's head swung round and he stared down at the guitarist next to him. "Yeah?"

The latter's brain reeled for a few moments, then he began to talk. "Have you spoken to Mikes recently?"

Gerard shook his head.

"You should probably call him when we get home then, you know how he gets. The next thing we know he'll be going to the CIA to report his brother's gone missing."

"Probably." The singer smiled weakly.

"Yeah, and actually we need to get some more stuff laid down on the album. So we'll have to call Toro as well."

"I haven't thought much about it recently." Gerard mused

"Nothing solid's down yet. Me and Ray have just been messing arou-" Frank was cut off by the older man's face contorting in pain. He guessed the needle had gone in, and immediately changed tack. "It's ok, Gerard. You're doing great. Just hold still a few more seconds, and it'll be over."

"He's right." The nurse said from the other side of the chair and singer. "Nearly done now, Mr Way."

Gerard's face was strained, and he tilted his head back, so as to avoid the sight of the needle buried in his arm. Iero continued to reassure him, and as the woman had promised, it was over before they knew it.

"Well done." Frank said, beaming at his friend as he straightened up. Way rolled his eyes at him, and got to his feet, rubbing his arm where the nurse had pressed a plaster on the hole.

Said woman, was currently holding a vial full of bright red liquid up to the light, inspecting it for any obvious impurities. "That looks good, sir, if you wouldn't mind sighing out, and we'll get back to you as soon as we have the results back, or in the event we have to run any more tests."

"Thanks," Gerard muttered, and followed closely by Frank made his way back to reception, where he checked out with the guy manning the desk. It was only when they were back in the car that he visibly relaxed.

“Well, that was interesting.” The younger man muttered.

Way’s only response was to roll his eyes. “Let’s just go home.”

The drive back was silent, strained.

Even when they reached the apartment, and Gerard disappeared to make coffee, Frank was struggling to find words. He just didn’t know what to say, to make the situation better, or to take some of the weight off of his friend’s shoulders.

The tension, and lack of words didn’t disappear with time as the day wore on. Thankfully, the appointment had been in the afternoon, so after a few hours, it was a reasonable enough time to go to bed. Iero excused himself, and went into his room, closing the door behind him. There was a cat flap at the bottom of the door to allow his dogs in, and as though they had sensed their master’s sadness they scampered in now to join him. More likely though, they were worried he was about to go to sleep without feeding them.

Frank smiled as they ran in small circles around him, reaching out to scratch Peppers behind her ear. She was one fat dog, he noted as she sat happily down on his midriff. “What am I going to do with you?” He muttered, as she whined softly, then settled down. Great, now he was never going to be able to move. “I hate you.” The guitarist smiled.

The small (well, supposedly) canine moved eventually, allowing Frank to undress and slide beneath the covers. He felt guilty for leaving his friend on his own, something he seemed to be doing a lot recently. Oh well – it wasn’t as though Gerard was going to get into any trouble staying in the flat. In theory at least.

Iero eventually fell asleep, but only for a few hours. Because that was when the nightmare started.

Sweet Pea had been wondering around the place (usually Frank locked his dogs in the kitchen at night, which had an adjoining run), and Gerard had left his door open. She recognised his scent of course, but decided to go in their anyway, perhaps fall asleep surrounded by this small that was still a slightly novelty. With some difficult, she got up on the bed next to the sleeping man. Being a dog, she didn’t noticed how restless he way being, didn’t think anything of the jumbled, distorted words falling from his mouth. What she did notice though was when Gerard screamed, and began to thrash madly.

Alarmed, she ran as her little legs would carry her back to her master. The other dogs were in there also, and Sweet Pea successfully managed to wake all of them in her panic. Of course, this woke Frank too, who looked around groggily for a few seconds.

The smallest of his dogs looked slightly spooked, although, she was calming down fast. He frowned, but figured she’d probably trod on her own tail or something stupid, and settled back down in his bad. In his sub-consciousness, that was when Way chose to scream again. The guitarist sat bolt upright, disturbing his dogs again, and straining his ears in the direction of the sound. It was times like this he regretted getting his apartment completely soundproofed.

He jumped out of bed, and half sprinted to Gerard’s room in the dark. In there, there was enough light present to see his friend twitching on the bed, disturbing mumbles pouring from his mouth, as he battled some horror in his head.

In a flash, Frank was next to him, shaking the older man awake. “Come on, Gee, you’re ok. You’re safe. You’re here with me.” The moment Way was awake, he twisted out of the guitarist’s grip.

“No!” He screamed, “Leave me alone! I don’t want this! I’m not a whore!”

For a second, Iero was confused – trying to figure out where this behaviour had come from. That only lasted a moment though as it hit him exactly how similar this situation must be to the one in which his friend was raped. And that was almost undoubtedly what the dream had been about. No wonder Gerard was now screaming at him like this.

“Calm down, Gee – it’s fine. It’s me. It’s Frank.” He said softly, trying to calm and reassure his friend.

It worked – for a split second at least. In that fleeting moment, the setting was almost calm. Then Gerard broke down in to tears. Iero sighed and crawled forward. He’d seen far too many of his friend’s tears recently, but the pain that resounded in Frank’s chest every time salty water trekked down Way’s face didn’t lessen with time or familiarity. It was still a heart-breaking sight.

“I’m sorry.” The singer began. He always apologised when he cried, claiming that he was pathetic, that he wasn’t worth anything and was just a burden to Frank. Although this may be somewhat true, it wasn’t a weight that his friend would ever shy away from, though he was running out of words of denial to cope with Gerard’s self demeaning rants.

“Don’t even go there.” Iero said warningly. “If I hear you say that you’re worthless one more time, I swear to God, I’ll break something. We both know it’s not true.”

Gerard nodded, sniffling. At least he was calming down faster than usual, though it wasn’t unusual for the tears to spring back up the moment they seemed to be gone. This time though, it appeared they weren’t going to show themselves again. Frank smiled, and buried his head in his friend’s shoulder. “You ok?”

“Better.” The singer replied. “This is bullshit.”

“I wish I could make the dreams go away.” Frank murmured. “I hate seeing you so upset.”

To that, Gerard had no reply.

It was only after a good ten minutes that he spoke again. “God, it’s like having loads of kids.”

“Huh?” The guitarist questioned, leaning back. Then he noticed the four small bodies collapsed in a heap around them. “Yeah,” he laughed, picking up the closet one and hugging it to his chest. “My little babies.”

Gerard giggled, and scooped another up, holding it close. “You’re adorable.”

Frank didn’t know if the singer was addressing him or the dog, but accepted the compliment anyway. “Why, thank you.”

Way giggled again, then yawned. “I’mma go back to sleep now.”

“Do you want me to stay? I mean, I could wake you up if you have any more nightmares.” Iero offered.

Gerard thanked that the room was dark enough for no one to see him blush. “Thank you.” He said softly.

“Pleasure. And these terrifying little creatures will be able to scare off any terrifying ghosts that come and try and scare us.”

The older man giggled again at that, picturing the tiny dogs attacking... well, anything. “I’m sure they will.”

Frank echoed his high pitched laugh, then climbed under the covers. “Goodnight.”

“Yeah, night.”

Gerard slept through the remainder of the night without any dreams. When he woke up, the bed was empty, bar one fat dog, but music, light, and the smell of a cooked breakfast was filtering through the open door and into the room. He smiled softly to himself, envisioning Frank in the kitchen, singing along to the music, and cooking eggs and facon. The rather domestic image was so close to what Way wanted, yet still so far. He knew he’d never have the guts to admit to the younger man how he felt. Especially with his sexual health so up in the air. It wasn’t though he just wanted to fuck the other guy, but sex was part of it, and really, he didn’t know how to have a relationship with the guitarist without it. Not when they were already so close.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by Frank bursting into the room, carrying two trays weighed down with food. He really had gone all out – pancakes, facon, a pot of coffee, eggs, mushrooms, toast, pop-tarts, and several different spreads. Gerard couldn’t really understand the guitarist’s liking of mushrooms with breakfast. It was something the younger man and picked up in England.

“Hungry?” Iero smiled, sitting down opposite Gerard happily.

“You’d shoot me if I said ‘no’.” Way laughed. He was though. Frank had been feeding him a lot since he’d moved in, and bit by bit, his appetite had returned. Now the veritable feast in front of him looked delicious, and he felt as though he could consume all of it. All of his half at least.

“True. Help yourself.” Frank grinned, holding out two plates and two mugs. Gerard took one of each, and began helping himself to coffee and pancakes.

Later in the day, they walked the dogs, then went into the studio to go over the stuff already laid down. The singer loved the stuff he heard, and even better was the way his brain started filling with ideas. Concepts, lyrics, album designs, everything that he always seemed to be put in charge of when creating a new album. Not that he was complaining; in his opinion, this was the most interesting stuff – it meant he could shape the album in anyway he wanted, make it reflect his life and send out whatever message he wished it to. He thought that at the moment, it would be equal amounts despair and hope. Perhaps not as dark as the first three album, but not as bright as Danger Days. Maybe more realistic and down to Earth. But probably not. Gerard was a sucker for a metaphors, and the fans ate that up.

In the afternoon heat, they gave up working and went to the local park for ice cream. It was a favourite of Franks – he often walked the dogs there, on account of the fact it was usually absent of fans. He wasn’t sure why, and he and Gerard had fun hypothesising about ghosts that only haunted people who liked rock music, or someone having died there in a way so gruesome that it was hidden from the world. Of course, their fan base (being the best) had figured it out and hence avoided the place.

On their way home – they had walked, enjoying the good weather – Way ended up dragging his friend into a mall. They ended up in a costume shop and spent a good half hour messing around in there. The shopkeeper didn’t seem to mind, as they ended up buying most of what they tried on. Frank dared Gerard to put on one of the fairy outfits, which he did with surprisingly little resistance. The sight of the older man in a tutu that short did things to Iero that he didn’t like to admit, but he stored the metal image for later use. Unsurprisingly, it was one of the costumes they didn’t buy, which the guitarist thought was a shame, but oh-well. It wasn’t as though it was realistically going to get any use. In fact, most of this stuff probably wouldn’t. Hell, he wasn’t even sure why they were buying it.

It did make the shopkeeper’s face light up, as though Christmas had come early however, which was always a good thing.

They went into the Starbucks en route home, where they finally got accosted by a group of girls. The encounter was funny, as opposed to annoying though, and when the two men parted ways with them, they felt better than either had done in a while.

The next few weeks carried on like this, living in blissful ignorance of the rest of the world. They went out for meals with Mikey and Alicia, and the Toro’s, worked on the album, went shopping for stupid things they didn’t need and nearly always donated to charity shops, played with Frank’s dogs, and life seemed freakishly perfect. The best thing about the time, as far as Way was concerned at least, was having the guitarist’s full attention 24/7. He tried not to be too in the way, or be a hindrance to what Iero wanted to do, but the younger man seemed perfectly happy with his constant presence and every time Gerard tried to back off a bit, Frank would just pull him in closer. It might have sounded possessive, but it was exactly what the singer needed – to feel needed and loved again. What never crossed Gerard’s mind was how little he thought of Lindsey these days. She was barely on his mind, and when she was it was only a small pang of regret he felt, not the crippling guilt and remorse of before.

On their visits, Mikey, Alicia, Ray and Christa noticed there friend’s antics of course, and it amused them greatly, watching the two men dance around each other, when they were practically a married couple anyway. They weren’t going to push them together though – the idiots would figure it out sooner or later.

Gerard still suffered from the occasional nightmare, but less now that he’d taken up permanent residence in Iero’s bed. It should have been awkward, what with the sexual tension that hung between them, and both pretended to be oblivious to. It wasn’t though – it was like being on a permanent sleep over with your best friend, albeit the best friend whose pants you wanted to get into.

But Way didn’t want make things awkward between them and have to move back into his own house (most of the contents, bar the furniture, was in Frank’s apartment by now anyway). And the guitarist was worried that making a pass at Gerard would scare him, so soon after being raped. And even if they’d managed to push the fact that the singer potentially had an STD to the back of their minds, the knowledge was still there, still a barrier.

However, when two people living in that enclosed an environment feel something over than friendship for the other, whatever that emotion may be, eventually it was going to be revealed.

As it was, it was Frank who made the first move. He’d woken up one morning, to have Gerard writhing on the sheets next to him. At first, he’d thought his friend was in the grip of another nightmare, until he noticed the tent pitched in Way’s pants. The lower part of his body seemed to coil up at that and tighten. The smell of sex was in the air, and seeing the man he desired so open and needy like that was doing things to Iero’s head that shouldn’t be happening. He wanted to push Gerard’s pants down, to taste him, to bury himself in the scent that was leaching into the room, to stroke Way and watch him as he came.

Some rational part of his brain stopped him though. He rolled out of bed, leaving the singer to his dreams. He was thankful he had locked his dogs in the kitchen last night. They truefully were his babies, and he didn’t need them seeing something like that. He showered off, not in the ensuite so as to give Gerard his privacy.

He couldn’t get that image out of his head though, Gerard writhing and squirming in this sleep. It wasn’t anything new – the singer did it enough on stage to be a familiar sight, but that moment had been something different. It was private, something that a thousand kids didn’t get to see. It was rawer as well; in his state of unconsciousness, Gerard had no control over his actions, nothing to mask the heat of whoever, or whatever he was dreaming about.

Frank ended up jerking off in the shower to that image, accompanied by the one of Gerard in that fairy outfit, which should have been ridiculous, but was somehow insanely hot. He got out of the shower and made breakfast, joined shortly by Way.

The other man had a slight tint to his cheeks, the guitarist noticed; clearly embarrassed by the events of the past hour. Well, Frank supposed that he’d be too, if he was in that situation. That didn’t stop him from teasing the singer a little though.

“Sleep well?” He asked, watching Gerard flush a little darker out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah, thanks. You?”

“Uhuh. Had some weird dreams though.” That was a lie, but it was worth it to watch Gerard squirm. “What about you?”

“No, uh, nothing out of the ordinary.”

Frank pretended not to notice that the other man was about a hundred shades of red. He was such a good friend.

To anyone watching, the rest of the day wouldn’t have been anything out of the ordinary. Someone observant may have noticed how Iero’s eyes sometimes lingered on Gerard for longer than they should do, or the way the singer occasionally blushed for no apparent reason. But on the outside, things mostly looked normal.

In the men’s heads however, things were far from normal. Way’s stomach was churning in embarrassment over his dream, whilst Frank kept on thinking about fucking hot his friend had looked, and how strongly the air had smelt of sex - a scent he hadn’t encountered in far too long. What was also impossible to push from his mind was how he wished that it had been him making Gerard feel like this. Part of him wished that he could rewind time, and the singer could have woken up to him sucking the older man off.

For Frank, temptation was present the entire day. He wanted to see his friend come undone again, make him writhe like he did that morning. It was only a matter of time before he snapped.

When it happened, Way was leaning against the counter, staring into the distance. Some part of the guitarist’s brains began sending him pictures of what the older man would look like, being bent over that surface, ass bare and ready as he sweated and moaned for Frank. The tattooed man tried to swallow his feelings down, rid his brain of the lovely, but entirely inappropriate visual.

Gerard noticed the strained look on his friend’s face. “You ok, man?”

“Fine.” Iero said, his voice softly to keep it from breaking. He was across the room from the singer, but found himself walking forward – feet moving of their own accord. When he reached the signer, he gently caught each of his wrists in his hands, so they were standing inches apart.

Way looked at him oddly, trying to figure out what was going through his friend’s head. Also, trying to stop his heart pounding at the proximity between them. He never expected Frank’s next words though.

“Gerard.” He said softly, staring at the singer’s parted lips, entranced by them. “What would you do if I kissed you?”

The singer’s breathe caught in his throat at the question, leaving him unable to answer. He stared at the younger man in shock, whose eyes flitted up to meet his own. The hazel orbs were clouded with lust, and something more tender than that. Something that Way couldn’t place.

At last, the power of speech returned, and in a croaky, shaking voice he replied; “I’d tell you to do it.”

Frank smiled, and leaned forward to close the last few inches between in them in a tender meeting of the lips.

Their mouths moved together slowly, both men hesitant to go any faster, just in case this was some weird dream. Some weird, perfect dream that neither wished to wake up from. Their lips just brushed and curled around one another’s until Gerard opened his mouth a little wider and Frank took this as an opportunity introduce his mouth into the kiss.

Way shifted at this – bringing their hips closer together, and soon enough, what had started as an innocent kiss, was a wild tumble of lips and tongues and teeth as the men’s hips grinded against each other’s and their hands gripped their bodies in an attempt to eradicate all space between them.

“Oh, shit.” Frank groaned as he drew back for air. His hands slid down to the singer’s hips, and help him still as they rocked their hips together.

“You mean this right? You like me? You’re not just fucking with my head?” Gerard panted out, staring at his friend’s face.

Iero stilled at that, a look of alarm on his face. The singer felt his heart drop with the realisation that of course this meant nothing to Frank – it was just a way of getting off. “You idiot.” The older man blushed at the insult, despite the fact it was spoken with fondness, as opposed to malice. “Of course I mean this. You’re one of my best friends – I wouldn’t fuck you over like this. I’ve wanted you for ages, and... you’re crazy, ok? I’d never hurt you. This- You mean everything for me.”

Gerard was flushing even harder by the end of the younger man’s pronouncement. It was from joy this time though, not embarrassment and disappointment. “Good,” was all he managed, before Iero had pulled him back into the heated kissed.

Their tongues wrapped around each other’s as their lips collided, and Frank began to fucking suck on the muscle in his mouth. Way made a strangled noise, and the guitarist pulled back, grinning.

"That's not the only thing I can suck on." He muttered, which was as corny as hell, but oh so hot and Gerard didn't protest as the shorter man leaned forward again, this time to nip and tongue his neck with wet, sloppy noises. Frank dragged his lips down to the base of the singers throat and began to suck on the pale skin stretched over his collar bone, all the while gripping Way's hips in his hands and grinding his hips forward.

Gerard's own hand were planted on Frank's waist, digging in to the flesh there. His head was tilted back, so as to give Iero the best access to his neck. and he was rocking slightly against the other man, adding to the hot, delicious friction there.

Suddenly, and for no apparent reason, the shorter man's lips disappeared from his throat, and his body jerked away from Gerard. Way opened his eyes to try and figure out what had triggered this change in circumstances, to see Frank on his knees in front of him. The sight was enough to short-circuit the singer's brain. He made a slightly garbled noise and Iero grinned that oh so shit-eating grin and leaned forward to lick a line up the sweats that Gerard was wearing.

Again, the words – the very important – words got stuck in Way’s throat, making the guitarist look only more pleased. It was only as the younger man’s hands began to peel down the pants, that the singer finally managed to speak.

“Frank, don’t.”

Said man looked up, questioningly, seemingly disappointed.

“Why not?”

“Think, Frank. The STD.”

Iero’s face fell, and he blushed, getting to his feet. “I’m sorry.”

Gerard frowned. “Why?”

“I forgot completely.”

Way rolled his eyes. “It’s fine, man. It’s not like we’ve talked about it much. I just wanna forget about until the results come through.”

“Still.”

“Look – it’s not your fault. It’s mine for getting us- me in this situation anyway.”

“S’not your fault. You were raped.” Frank mumbled.

Gerard winced at that, but didn’t mention it. It was ridiculous talking like this after what had just happened. And it wasn’t just his dick complaining about refusing a blowjob. “Let’s not talk about this, ok? It’s just stupid arguing about who’s to blame.”

“Yeah, I guess.” The guitarist, gave a small smile and pecked the taller man on the lips. “It’s just a shame'; I really wanted to get at your cock.”

Way laughed at that. “Yeah, well, he’s disappointed too.” He grinned. “So, what is this than? I mean, what are we?”

It was Frank’s turn to roll his eyes now. “How about boyfriends?”

“Sounds good to me.” The singer smiled. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I dunno. Kissing me I guess. I’d never have got the guts to confess that I like you.”

Iero grinned – that shit eating grin again. Except somehow, even cheekier. “Well, let’s just say that your dream this morning helped a bit as well.”

Gerard’s face suddenly became the same shade that he had worn in his hair for the Danger Days album. Frank just laughed.



At fucking last eh? Only been waiting the last seven years for this! Well, since the stage gay started. Not that I listened to them back then. I had an awful music taste when I was nine. Whatever.

The next update probably won't be for another two weeks because I'm going on holiday next week, and not taking my laptop. So unless I get brave and decide to start writing on my dad's iPad, I can't see an update any time soon. Sorry!

Who watched the Olympic opening ceremony? I did! I have to say, it was a lot better than I thought it would be. I mean they had Mr. Bean in it! And a fifty foot high thing of Voldermort. They also played the Sex Pistols. And the whole thing was just hilarious. Disappointed that David Tennant wasn't there though. That would have just made it!

There was something else I felt the need to share with you, but I can't remember what... Oh well!

Enjoy the heat.

And the chapter.

Even if you've already read it.

Whatever.

Sx