Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > 103
It’s too loud in here. There’s too many people, and it’s too damn loud. Half of them don’t even look hurt or sick. A couple do, there’s one older guy in the corner, who came in a little after we did, and he’s cradling his hand with a bloody towel wrapped around it. Another woman is holding her kid whose been paper white and twitching the entire time. I feel bad for the people who look like their suffering, as opposed to the harried looking woman screaming about a heart attack, when in reality her bra is about 4 sizes too small. Gerard gives a deep, wet cough, his back shaking as he hacks towards the floor, stuffing his face into the front of his hoodie to keep quiet.
“Gerard Way?”
Our eyes shoot up to a nurse dressed in hideous purple scrubs. She looks as tired as we do, and sighs when a baby in the far corner wakes from his nap and starts screaming. I stand up, pulling Gerard with me and holding him close. His steps are slow and uneven, and I can feel his shoulders shaking against mine as we shuffle across the room. The nurse smiles, and opens a frosted glass door, taking us down a hallway lined with beds and dividers. The whole place smells, and every few seconds someone coughs or vomits or just moans in discomfort. Guess we picked a bad time to come…
“As you can tell, we’re swamped, and there isn’t a doctor available right now. But you can lay down and I’ll get a chart started so we can treat you that much faster.”
I drown out what the girl is saying, paying attention to the trembling man whose getting harder and harder to carry with every step we take. An old man in a robe toddles past us, giving Gerard and I the dirtiest look and I just glare back. Fuck him. We pay taxes for his social security and his medicare. He can fuck off and break a hip for all I care.
“Frankie?”
I look over, and realized we’ve stopped at an empty bed. I lower him onto it, and he sighs in relief, falling back onto the pillows and closing his eyes. I stand off to the side, tucking my hands awkwardly into my pockets and watching the nurse take his vitals. She mutters to herself, and writes everything down on a set of pink and yellow papers. When I hear her say something about a blood sample though, I spring back into action and grab Gee’s hand, squeezing it softly. The nurse leaves, drawing a large curtain around the bed for privacy.
“I’m scared Frank. She kept saying something about chest x-rays and lung cancer.”
I hug him from the side, rubbing his arm.
“You don’t have lung cancer, Gee. You’re sick and happen to smoke. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
He whimpers and plays with the zipper on his hoodie.
“But what if I do have cancer?”
I sigh deeply and massage my forehead. I don’t want to even think about that. Everything about cancer scares me, and it’s the last thing I want to see him go through. He coughs again, tears leaking from his eyes as he chokes and smacks his chest.
“I hurts so bad, Frankie…”
I kiss his sweltering cheek, and smirk devilishly when I see one of those horrid hospital gowns sitting on the corner of the mattress. Maybe I could cheer him up a little…
“You should change, babe. I’ll help you…”
He smiles sheepishly, and starts to blush, running his hands over his sweatpant-clad thighs.
“I’d love to, but there’s just one problem, Frank. I’m not wearing any underwear…”
My mouth drops open and I can feel my dick twinge. That was the first thing he told me when we got together, his lips flush against my ear and his hot breath racing down my neck. And now, in the worst situation ever, he says it again to me, still smirking and giggling like a horny school girl. Though, I’m not shocked he went commando, not after last night anyways. I grow harder just thinking about how beautiful he looked with his head thrown back and pearl white legs wrapped around my waist.
“You honestly think I care? Take your jacket off.”
He shrugs and pulls down the zipper, sliding the ratty, black sleeves off his arms and tossing it to the floor. I stand in front of him, tucking neatly in between his legs. Our hands come together at the hem of his shirt, the two of us staring each other down, our eyes wide and glittering with lust. Slowly, we pull the shirt over his head, me trailing kisses along piece of bare skin I can reach. I grab the gown, unfurling it with a look of disgust. It’s pale green and smells like a nursing home, not to mention a questionable rust-colored spot along the collar. He blinks at me, olive eyes watching every movement. But I just set it back down, my hands grabbing a hold of his waist and down near ripping the pants off his body. He blushes nervously, and I scoff when I realize he’s harder than a diamond.
“Naughty Gee, don’t you know you can‘t boink in a hospital?”
He smirks quietly and traces a finger along my chest, swallowing a loud cough.
“Silly Frankie, don’t you realize you couldn’t get away with it?”
I gasp and kiss him fiercely. He knows better than to challenge me, especially concerning my libido. I pull my top off, attaching my lips to the side of his neck.
“Give or take?”
His words are rushed and breathless, and I look up from his bruised jugular.
“Are we really about to do this? In front of everybody?”
He nods and starts fiddling with my jeans.
“I’ll be quiet and we’ll go quick. So, give or take?”
“Give… if you don’t mind.”
He rolls his eyes and hits my shoulder, wrapping his legs around me. I pulls my jeans down hurriedly, trying not to trip over my socks and go crashing into the bed beside us. I dive onto the bed and pull the blanket over us. We grind and gyrate around in a blind trance, but before long, I slip inside him, relishing in the moist clench of his insides. He lets out a quiet breath, eyes closing and mouth falling open. I push harder, rotating my hips and pressing my hands into his sides.
“Frank… oh, Frankie. Oh god…”
I hold a finger to his lips, shushing him and shifting my aim to the left. His eyes shoot open, and he tightens unexpectedly. I still got it. Even after millions of rounds of crazy, lust-fueled sex, I can still find that sweet spot in just two thrusts. Our bodies rock back and forth, pulling apart and colliding again and again like a well oiled machine. Sweat begins to drape his torso, and when he goes to let out a guttural moan, a sickly cough bursts from his throat, spraying my face with mucus and spit. He groans and falls back on the pillow, pushing me off of him and wheezing into his shoulder. I pull out of him and grab my jeans and boxers from the floor.
“Gee?”
He doesn’t answer, just keeps hacking and panting, now on his side and taking in shaky breaths. I change quickly, and grab the gown from the end of the bed.
“Lift your arms, babe.”
He coughs roughly and limply holds up his arms, making me struggle to get him dressed. Well, if you can even call this dressed. He curls up once I pull my hands away, knees tucked into his chest as his eyes slip shut from exhaustion.
“I’m so sorry Frankie…”
I sigh and pull up a dinky metal stool tucked beneath the bed. Sitting down, I take his hand in mine and start rubbing soothing circles into the back of his hand. His breathing relaxes and slows down, and before I know it, he’s asleep and I’m left alone and twitchy in the ER. Goddammit. I thought that nurse said we’d be getting a doctor soon, and where did she go anyways? I prop my face up with my fist, staring down at his sleeping form. I hate this. I hate hospitals, I hate when people get sick, and I especially hate the feeling of defeat. Gerard coughs in his sleep and curls up tighter than before, the top of his knees almost brushing against his chin. I sigh and start to stroke his cheeks, cussing out God and everything around me when I realize his fever has spiked. Where’d that fucking nurse go? What’s taking everyone so damn long?
“Mr. Way?”
About God-Fucking-Damn time. Ugh, and the guy seems like his interested in other things than a couple of faggots with a cough. Gerard’s left eye cracks open, and his cranes his neck back to stare at the preoccupied doctor hovering at the foot of the bed.
“Y-Yeah?”
The man gives a heavy sigh, and pulls a metal clipboard from a pocket on the far end of the gurney. He flips through them for a second, muttering and shaking hi head like he’s some fucking saint coming to save all of humanity. But before he blurts out a diagnosis, he stares daggers at me.
“I’m afraid you have to leave, sir. We need to run some tests on your friend.”
My friend? Is he that naïve or just an asshole? Can he not see the ring on my finger? And the way Gerard keeps looking at me like a drowned puppy. Guess he just doesn’t pay attention to detail. But that’s not what I’m angry about. I’m not going to leave. I’m not going out into a stuffy waiting room while my anxiety-ridden mega phobic fiancé has a shit ton of needles and wires poked into him. He needs me, or else someone’s going to end up with a black eye and he’s gonna work himself into a panic attack. I don’t look up at him, I just keep running my finger beneath his eye.
“Sir, please leave or I’ll be forced to call security.”
“Why can’t I stay with my fiancé?”
Yeah, why can’t I?!
“It’s standard for everyone over 18. Basic patient-doctor confidentiality. I’m sorry, but you have to leave.”
I release a tense breath and look over at Gerard. He seems apathetic to everything going on around him, and doesn’t even squeak when a nurse (who appeared out of fucking nowhere) pushes an IV into his wrist. Standing up, I give Gee one last kiss before pushing through the curtain. I walk briskly back towards the waiting room, throwing my hood over my head to block out the harsh lighting and some of the abrasive sounds. I plop down on a chair in the corner, stretching my legs out in front of me. And now… I wait.
So, I decided to write another chapter! Yay! There's not gonna be too many after this one. Maybe one or two more chapters as I'm just protraying a chunk of their life together. So yeah, read and review.
“Gerard Way?”
Our eyes shoot up to a nurse dressed in hideous purple scrubs. She looks as tired as we do, and sighs when a baby in the far corner wakes from his nap and starts screaming. I stand up, pulling Gerard with me and holding him close. His steps are slow and uneven, and I can feel his shoulders shaking against mine as we shuffle across the room. The nurse smiles, and opens a frosted glass door, taking us down a hallway lined with beds and dividers. The whole place smells, and every few seconds someone coughs or vomits or just moans in discomfort. Guess we picked a bad time to come…
“As you can tell, we’re swamped, and there isn’t a doctor available right now. But you can lay down and I’ll get a chart started so we can treat you that much faster.”
I drown out what the girl is saying, paying attention to the trembling man whose getting harder and harder to carry with every step we take. An old man in a robe toddles past us, giving Gerard and I the dirtiest look and I just glare back. Fuck him. We pay taxes for his social security and his medicare. He can fuck off and break a hip for all I care.
“Frankie?”
I look over, and realized we’ve stopped at an empty bed. I lower him onto it, and he sighs in relief, falling back onto the pillows and closing his eyes. I stand off to the side, tucking my hands awkwardly into my pockets and watching the nurse take his vitals. She mutters to herself, and writes everything down on a set of pink and yellow papers. When I hear her say something about a blood sample though, I spring back into action and grab Gee’s hand, squeezing it softly. The nurse leaves, drawing a large curtain around the bed for privacy.
“I’m scared Frank. She kept saying something about chest x-rays and lung cancer.”
I hug him from the side, rubbing his arm.
“You don’t have lung cancer, Gee. You’re sick and happen to smoke. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
He whimpers and plays with the zipper on his hoodie.
“But what if I do have cancer?”
I sigh deeply and massage my forehead. I don’t want to even think about that. Everything about cancer scares me, and it’s the last thing I want to see him go through. He coughs again, tears leaking from his eyes as he chokes and smacks his chest.
“I hurts so bad, Frankie…”
I kiss his sweltering cheek, and smirk devilishly when I see one of those horrid hospital gowns sitting on the corner of the mattress. Maybe I could cheer him up a little…
“You should change, babe. I’ll help you…”
He smiles sheepishly, and starts to blush, running his hands over his sweatpant-clad thighs.
“I’d love to, but there’s just one problem, Frank. I’m not wearing any underwear…”
My mouth drops open and I can feel my dick twinge. That was the first thing he told me when we got together, his lips flush against my ear and his hot breath racing down my neck. And now, in the worst situation ever, he says it again to me, still smirking and giggling like a horny school girl. Though, I’m not shocked he went commando, not after last night anyways. I grow harder just thinking about how beautiful he looked with his head thrown back and pearl white legs wrapped around my waist.
“You honestly think I care? Take your jacket off.”
He shrugs and pulls down the zipper, sliding the ratty, black sleeves off his arms and tossing it to the floor. I stand in front of him, tucking neatly in between his legs. Our hands come together at the hem of his shirt, the two of us staring each other down, our eyes wide and glittering with lust. Slowly, we pull the shirt over his head, me trailing kisses along piece of bare skin I can reach. I grab the gown, unfurling it with a look of disgust. It’s pale green and smells like a nursing home, not to mention a questionable rust-colored spot along the collar. He blinks at me, olive eyes watching every movement. But I just set it back down, my hands grabbing a hold of his waist and down near ripping the pants off his body. He blushes nervously, and I scoff when I realize he’s harder than a diamond.
“Naughty Gee, don’t you know you can‘t boink in a hospital?”
He smirks quietly and traces a finger along my chest, swallowing a loud cough.
“Silly Frankie, don’t you realize you couldn’t get away with it?”
I gasp and kiss him fiercely. He knows better than to challenge me, especially concerning my libido. I pull my top off, attaching my lips to the side of his neck.
“Give or take?”
His words are rushed and breathless, and I look up from his bruised jugular.
“Are we really about to do this? In front of everybody?”
He nods and starts fiddling with my jeans.
“I’ll be quiet and we’ll go quick. So, give or take?”
“Give… if you don’t mind.”
He rolls his eyes and hits my shoulder, wrapping his legs around me. I pulls my jeans down hurriedly, trying not to trip over my socks and go crashing into the bed beside us. I dive onto the bed and pull the blanket over us. We grind and gyrate around in a blind trance, but before long, I slip inside him, relishing in the moist clench of his insides. He lets out a quiet breath, eyes closing and mouth falling open. I push harder, rotating my hips and pressing my hands into his sides.
“Frank… oh, Frankie. Oh god…”
I hold a finger to his lips, shushing him and shifting my aim to the left. His eyes shoot open, and he tightens unexpectedly. I still got it. Even after millions of rounds of crazy, lust-fueled sex, I can still find that sweet spot in just two thrusts. Our bodies rock back and forth, pulling apart and colliding again and again like a well oiled machine. Sweat begins to drape his torso, and when he goes to let out a guttural moan, a sickly cough bursts from his throat, spraying my face with mucus and spit. He groans and falls back on the pillow, pushing me off of him and wheezing into his shoulder. I pull out of him and grab my jeans and boxers from the floor.
“Gee?”
He doesn’t answer, just keeps hacking and panting, now on his side and taking in shaky breaths. I change quickly, and grab the gown from the end of the bed.
“Lift your arms, babe.”
He coughs roughly and limply holds up his arms, making me struggle to get him dressed. Well, if you can even call this dressed. He curls up once I pull my hands away, knees tucked into his chest as his eyes slip shut from exhaustion.
“I’m so sorry Frankie…”
I sigh and pull up a dinky metal stool tucked beneath the bed. Sitting down, I take his hand in mine and start rubbing soothing circles into the back of his hand. His breathing relaxes and slows down, and before I know it, he’s asleep and I’m left alone and twitchy in the ER. Goddammit. I thought that nurse said we’d be getting a doctor soon, and where did she go anyways? I prop my face up with my fist, staring down at his sleeping form. I hate this. I hate hospitals, I hate when people get sick, and I especially hate the feeling of defeat. Gerard coughs in his sleep and curls up tighter than before, the top of his knees almost brushing against his chin. I sigh and start to stroke his cheeks, cussing out God and everything around me when I realize his fever has spiked. Where’d that fucking nurse go? What’s taking everyone so damn long?
“Mr. Way?”
About God-Fucking-Damn time. Ugh, and the guy seems like his interested in other things than a couple of faggots with a cough. Gerard’s left eye cracks open, and his cranes his neck back to stare at the preoccupied doctor hovering at the foot of the bed.
“Y-Yeah?”
The man gives a heavy sigh, and pulls a metal clipboard from a pocket on the far end of the gurney. He flips through them for a second, muttering and shaking hi head like he’s some fucking saint coming to save all of humanity. But before he blurts out a diagnosis, he stares daggers at me.
“I’m afraid you have to leave, sir. We need to run some tests on your friend.”
My friend? Is he that naïve or just an asshole? Can he not see the ring on my finger? And the way Gerard keeps looking at me like a drowned puppy. Guess he just doesn’t pay attention to detail. But that’s not what I’m angry about. I’m not going to leave. I’m not going out into a stuffy waiting room while my anxiety-ridden mega phobic fiancé has a shit ton of needles and wires poked into him. He needs me, or else someone’s going to end up with a black eye and he’s gonna work himself into a panic attack. I don’t look up at him, I just keep running my finger beneath his eye.
“Sir, please leave or I’ll be forced to call security.”
“Why can’t I stay with my fiancé?”
Yeah, why can’t I?!
“It’s standard for everyone over 18. Basic patient-doctor confidentiality. I’m sorry, but you have to leave.”
I release a tense breath and look over at Gerard. He seems apathetic to everything going on around him, and doesn’t even squeak when a nurse (who appeared out of fucking nowhere) pushes an IV into his wrist. Standing up, I give Gee one last kiss before pushing through the curtain. I walk briskly back towards the waiting room, throwing my hood over my head to block out the harsh lighting and some of the abrasive sounds. I plop down on a chair in the corner, stretching my legs out in front of me. And now… I wait.
So, I decided to write another chapter! Yay! There's not gonna be too many after this one. Maybe one or two more chapters as I'm just protraying a chunk of their life together. So yeah, read and review.
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