FicWad

Chapter 5



Frank woke up completely disoriented. Confusion swept across his face when he discovered he was clad in just his boxers; shirtless and shivering. He glanced around, only to realize that he had fallen asleep on the floor of a shed with a feathery mascot costume as a pillow.

A thin beam of light was flowing in from the door that was being held ajar with a block of wood. It was only a small amount of light, but enough for Frank to see that the shed looked like a tornado had ripped through it.

Rakes were scattered on the ground and a few boxes were knocked over, the contents spilling out onto the floor. That’s when Frank remembered it; remembered everything. Luke.

Frank closed his eyes in hope of recalling the events of the previous night.

He remembered that he and Luke ended up making out very enthusiastically, shedding their t-shirts, desperate for skin-on-skin contact; stumbling around in the dark, knocking over what Frank figured were the boxes. The two of them fell to floor, Luke thrusting his tongue into Frank’s parted lips, licking and sucking on Frank’s tongue eagerly. Luke had placed moist open-mouthed kisses all over Frank’s body, taking the thin skin on Frank’s shoulder between his teeth; playfully tugging, leaving a mark that would turn into a bruise.

Frank ran a hand over his shoulder, closing his eyes and reminiscing.

He remembered that his skin felt like it was on fire whenever Luke had touched him, those soft hands roaming his chest and down to the waistband of his jeans. Then Luke had undone Frank’s belt quickly, expertly and had thrust his hand into Frank’s jeans, stroking him deftly until he was fully erect. Luke had desperately tugged his own clothes off and covered Frank’s body with his, chest to chest, then had thrust his erection against Frank’s aching cock, creating a delicious friction. Luke would continue to kiss him full of teeth and tongue and aggression whenever Frank had begged for him to do so.

Frank remembered that when Luke slid his hand down around both of their erections he had moaned loudly, mouth falling open, gasping for breath until Luke would silence him with another kiss filled with want. When Frank came harder than he ever thought possible, he bit down on the right side of Luke’s neck, just enough to break the skin, spilling blood on Frank’s lips. After Luke collapsed upon him, he had kissed him softly, licking at Frank’s lips to taste the metallic of his own blood. He had brought Frank into his arms, murmuring sweet nothings to him as they covered up with their discarded clothes and fell into a deep slumber.

Frank shuddered at the memory, heat radiating from his body. He sat up, the questions finally formulating. Where the hell was Luke? Why had he left? How did he get out? Was this just a casual hook-up for him? Well it seemed obvious since he had left Frank, alone. It was the typical morning after scenario. Frank felt like a newb, an extremely crushed newb who just had his fucking heart torn out.

Searching around for his t-shirt, he found it lying beside his jeans. He angrily pulled his clothes on, tears threatening to fall from his angered eyes. How could he have been so stupid?

He figured that Luke didn’t hang around him for his company. He just wanted to use him. He didn’t care about Frank. No wonder he didn’t take off the fucking costume whenever Frank begged him to. No wonder he didn’t ever answer when Frank asked him where he was from. Stupid.

He swung his fist with a frown engraved on his face and hit the side of the steel building, a loud bang echoing throughout the shed. Once his hand started aching with a dull pain, he flexed his fingers to make sure he hadn’t done anything else that was stupid, like break his hand.

Once he assumed his hand was alright, although some bruising would obviously occur later, Frank rubbed at his eyes and sunk down against a box. Why did he have to get to so fucking attached to the guy? What was he expecting anyway? It’s not like Luke was going to ask Frank to be his boyfriend or anything. The fucker. He just wanted to fucking use Frank and fucking take off... he could have at least said good-bye.

He tried to blink back his tears and concentrate on something else. He could hear the festivities of the Crop Hop already. There was music streaming out of the speakers and the townspeople’s voices carried on the wind.

He wondered if they had served the pancake breakfast yet. If they had, that definitely would mean his mom was there with Donna, Mikey and possibly Gerard.

Frank knew that he was going to get a good yelling at. His mom would probably call his dad too and then things would get even more fucked up. He could never be the sort of son his father had hoped for. His disappearance was definitely not going to impress his dad either.

Oh well, like there was anything else that could make this day any worse.

Voices were getting louder, the voices of a bunch of teenagers laughing. Fuck, he could recognize Carter’s voice.

Frank huddled into the corner of the shed behind a big stack of boxes. Hopefully, Carter and
whoever he was with wouldn’t open the door of the shed. Frank wasn’t going to chance it though and brought his bent legs to his chest, tucking his head down to rest on the top of his knees.

“What did you say he wanted us to get?” asked a female voice.

“Fuck, I dunno. Why’d you volunteer us anyway?” came Carter’s muffled reply. He was probably eating something. Again.

Frank rolled his eyes. He hated that guy. He hoped they’d just leave.

“Shut up Carter. Grandma wanted us to volunteer so get your fucking head out of your ass. She’s old and this makes her happy.”

Frank was shocked. The girl actually shut Carter up. Nobody told Carter off unless they wanted to get their teeth kicked out.

Frank heard a rustling at the door and then it was swung open, Frank jumping to his feet quickly. The bright light nearly blinded him. He blinked, rubbed at his eyes and stumbled into some rakes, causing them to crash to the ground loudly.

When Frank’s vision wasn’t cloudy and his eyes weren’t burning, he looked up to see Carter and a tall raven-haired girl. The girl wore more eyeliner then necessary but it suited her well, as did the silver ring that adorned her nose. She looked like one of those ‘scene kids’ that Carter hated.

“Who the hell are you and why are you in this shed?” asked the girl, hand on her hip.

“That’s the Chicken Boy, Frank Iero,” said Carter, pulling a chocolate bar out of his pocket

and taking a bite. 'Oh, please,' Frank sighed.

“Shut up Carter,” the girl said, snatching the chocolate bar out of his hand and tossing it to the ground.

“Are you gonna come out of there or do I really not want to know?” asked the girl, opening the door wider so Frank could leave the shed.

Once Frank was finally outside with the heat beating down on him, the girl turned to him and said, “Now if you’ll excuse us, we have a bus to decorate.”

“Yeah, okay. Have fun,” Frank said, dazed. He was hoping to get out of there as fast as possible since Carter probably wanted to beat his face into a pulp. Frank winced and turned to walk off when Carter grabbed at his arm.

“You fucker,” he whispered. Carter turned to see if the girl had noticed the grip he had on Frank‘s arm. She hadn't, she was gathering some banners and streamers from a box.

“You’re not getting away, you loser. I’m going to fucking kick your face in,” Carter whispered, yanking Frank harshly towards him. Frank could smell Carter’s awful breath; he turned his head away, disgusted. He just wanted to run away from that asshole.

“Carter!” the girl called out. “Some fucking help here?” She was now attempting to carry three larger boxes, balancing them on her hip.

Carter grabbed a box from the girl, setting it down and turned to Frank and said in an over-exaggerated voice, “Hey, buddy. You should help us. We haven’t had the time to hang out.”

“No-” Frank started. He knew Carter would make him suffer through helping them set up and then corner Frank and kick his face in, as Carter had just mentioned. He knew how these things worked. He had to get out of there.

“You’re friends with my douche bag cousin?” the girl raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

“Well, I was fucking rude then. I’m Alicia, this idiot’s cousin from Missouri,” she said smiling, and then closing the door of the shed behind her.

“That’s all nice, now,” Carter said, cheerfully, but there was still anger and hatred in his eyes. Frank knew it was all an act. “Alicia, I need to talk to Frankie boy here for a second, so I’ll be a minute.”

“What? I’m not carrying all the boxes, you lazy fuck,” Alicia said, throwing the box to the ground to prove her point.

“Alicia, fuck! I’ll carry the rest of ‘em. Just go. I wanna settle something here with my dear friend, Frank,” Carter said, throwing his heavy arm over Frank’s shoulders.

Frank hoped that Alicia could read minds or something. He kept blinking, fear lacing his eyes. He wished that maybe Alicia wouldn’t leave him alone with Carter.

Alicia eyed Carter suspiciously and left.

As soon as she was out of plain sight, Carter’s fist ploughed roughly into Frank’s jaw, the impact knocking him to the ground. It was too fast for Frank to remember the exact order of how everything went from there. There was Carter pulling Frank up again and throwing strong punches to his left eye, the pain in his lip now replaced with the stinging in his eye, then Carter was shoving him to the ground and then there was a swift kick to Frank’s stomach before Carter was gone, laughing.

Frank was hurting everywhere. His lip was spilt; he could taste the blood in his mouth and he felt it running out of the corner of his lips. He couldn’t open his left eye and as he ran his hand over it, he could tell it was going to be a real shiner. His stomach was throbbing with pain and he tried not to let tears fall from his eyes for a second time that day.


*


Once Frank managed to get up off the ground, he made sure he wasn’t bleeding anymore and stumbled painfully to Main Street. He was hoping to find his mom, Mikey or Donna, anyone that could take him home or give him an icepack and some painkillers. He wasn’t looking forward to having to explain why he had a busted lip or a black eye though.

He hoped he hadn’t broken any ribs, he was pretty sure he hadn’t. Nothing was poking out and he wasn’t bleeding the last time he checked. But there was some swelling and discoloration.

When the bank came into sight, Frank tried to run closer because there were chairs and possibly water there since that was the location of the Crop Hop’s annual pancake breakfast.
The place was deserted though and all the supplies for the breakfast were gone.

Frank hobbled over, wincing and sunk down onto a lawn chair. He then covered his face with his hands, wishing that the pain would go away. The physical pain that Carter caused and the emotional pain that Luke had.

“Frank?” a familiar voice called out. It was concerned and shocked. Mikey.

Frank raised his head shamefully. He didn’t want Mikey to see him all beaten and bruised. His only friend would think he was some stupid newb that gets beat up all the time and then Mikey would leave him too... just like Luke had.

“What the fuck, Frank? What happened?” asked Mikey, his voice wavering. He leaned down and wrapped his arm around Frank to comfort him. “Where were you last night? Your mom was so freaked out. She called the cops, or sheriff or whatever you guys have here. Did someone beat you up last night? What’s going on?” Mikey asked, as his face washed over with concern.

“Mikey, I don’t wanna talk. Can you just take me home?” Frank whispered, trying not to move his lips so much since the cut was still throbbing.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna see a doctor or something?” Mikey asked, helping Frank to his feet.

Frank swayed, overcome with dizziness. He shook his head, wincing with the pain it brought. “I just want to go home.”


*

The car came to a stop. The music had stopped too and Mikey was jiggling the keys out of the ignition and opening the door with a loud squeak.

Frank was laying down on a bunch of blankets in the backseat of the Way’s car. He didn’t know if the blankets were clean or not but he felt shitty as it is so it didn’t really matter. His lip stung and his eye was still throbbing, even with the icepack his mom had given him back in town.

She had practically started crying when she saw the condition Frank was in. She didn’t bother asking any questions, she just ran to the drugstore to get him an icepack and ordered Mikey to take Frank home so he could get some rest.

Frank had spent most of the drive back to the farm pondering over who Luke really was and why he was being so kind and nice and sweet and every fucking word used to describe someone who’s really fantastic, only just to fuck Frank over. Frank wished that he could track Luke down and punch him in the face for fucking using him and then abandoning him. Well, maybe Frank was being a little overdramatic. He was kind of a newb at these relationship things... well, it wasn’t a relationship but Luke sure did take the time to get to know the inner details of Frank’s personality. If he was just hooking up with Frank, wouldn’t he just get straight to it, rather than talk to Frank about personal stuff? Whatever, Frank was pissed off and hurt.

He also thought of revenge fantasies to get back at Carter, that bastard.

“Dude, you gotta get up,” Mikey said, opening the back door, gently helping Frank out of the car. He wrapped his arm around Frank and led him to the house.

Once inside, Mikey searched the medicine cabinet and handed Frank some painkillers and water while Frank sat on the kitchen chair, pushing the first aid kit away that Mikey had placed there previously.

“Don’t. I’ll take the fucking pills but there’s no way you’re putting all that ointment and rubbing alcohol shit on my face, it’ll just make it worse,” Frank groaned in annoyance, taking the pills from Mikey.

“Frank-”

“Mikey, its fine. I’m not a fucking newb to getting beat up. It happens a lot,” Frank said, adjusting the cup to the opposite direction so it wouldn’t come in contact with the cut on his lip, swallowing down the water and pills.

Mikey stood there awkwardly. He was sort of antsy and kept looking over to the door. He nervously rubbed his hands together and glanced up at Frank before he spoke.

“Alright. So uh, the parade thing starts in like, thirty minutes and I was supposed to meet someone there... and uh, I’m sorry man. I know I should stay here with you, but-” Mikey mumbled, looking at his feet.

“Mikey, just go,” Frank tried to smile but it hurt too much. He didn’t want Mikey to lose out on whatever he was doing, even though Frank thought the parade was really fucking retarded. And anyway, with Mikey gone, Frank could mope around and listen to The Cure like he pretty much always did when he was feeling sorry for himself.

“Thanks man,” Mikey grinned, slapping Frank on the arm playfully. When he realized what he had just done, he quickly said, “Shit! I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. It’s not like I’m in dying in agony or something,” Frank insisted as Mikey opened the door to the porch and pulled his shoes on.

“I’ll see you later, okay? And don’t do anything retarded while you look all mangled and stuff. No offence or anything. Like, don’t go jumping around with your guitar or do anything-” Mikey laughed, trying to get his right shoe on, hobbling on his left foot.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Have fun and stuff,” Frank said. He was in no mood to play guitar or jump around... how could Mikey not see that? Well, it was the thought that counted he guessed. At least Mikey cared, unlike that fucker Luke... the fucker Luke with the amazing mouth and body and- wait, Frank totally meant the fucker Luke who is a fucking asshole who used him. There, Frank tried to convince himself.

“Thanks again,” Mikey grinned and waved, closing the door behind him.

Frank grabbed the icepack and was about to get up from the kitchen table and go mope around in his room and wallow in his misery when the door swung open.

Mikey ran over to Frank, glad that he caught him in time. Obviously remembering something somewhat important.

Frank raised his eyebrows in confusion, only to have pain radiate through his face due to Carter punching him in his fucking eye.

“My bro is sleeping in your guest room-”

“What?” Frank interrupted. He totally forgot about Gerard. Fuck, now he had another thing to worry about.

“Yeah, I know it’s like noon and stuff but he said he was really tired and didn’t get a good sleep. I thought he stayed in the hotel in town but I dunno. I didn’t get the deets-”

Frank just flopped down onto the closest chair, a chair next the phone and looked up at Mikey, still in shock.

“So, yeah, I didn’t want you to be like, ‘why the hell is some strange dude in my house?’,” Mikey laughed, turning to leave. He stopped, remembering something else and laughed, “Oh my god, Frank. You should have seen what Mom made him do, it was awesome,” Mikey was laughing, slapping his knee with amusement. 'Lame much?' Frank thought.

He just stared in confusion. Things were all happening too fast with Mikey being all strange and giddy and Gerard sleeping in his house, so now he had to try and avoid him because he'd totally forgotten how hot Gerard was. This was just great. Just fucking great.

When Frank looked up, Mikey was already gone.


*


You know how they how say that curiosity killed the cat? Well, curiosity was one of Frank’s faults. When he was around eight years old, he’d often wonder why the fence was called the 'electric fence'. One day he decided to see if the thing actually shocked the animals if they tried to escape. So first, he found a twig and tapped the fence. Nothing happened. Then he touched it with his finger and still nothing happened. Amused, he leapt over it, proving that the fence didn’t work. The next day, he went to the fence and jumped over it, only to have his foot get caught on the wire, zapping him. He had fallen to the ground and scraped his knees. He didn’t realize his father had turned the switch on to activate the fence. It was rather stupid, looking back on it now. He always seemed to do stupid things and end up paying the price for his actions. And you’d think he’d have learnt his lesson by now.

Curiosity had lead Frank to where he was now. Where? Well, he was currently standing in front of the guest room that Gerard was supposedly sleeping in.

Frank had been laying in his bed previously, the pain from his stomach and face had died down a bit thanks to the meds and the icepack. He'd gotten pretty bored with just lying there, sulking and not fucking doing anything... oh yeah, and he was practically dying to see Gerard. It also left him feeling uneasy, knowing that someone else was sleeping in his house without actually being acquainted with them. He decided that that was his most logical explanation of everything if anyone asked.

Deciding whether to knock or not, that was the question. He knew he shouldn’t have even been lurking outside the door like some kind of creepy stalker-ish person but then again, he was curious.

He pressed his ear to the door, careful to avoid the door touching his bruised eye. He was hoping to hear Gerard’s soft breaths from his deep slumber or maybe his moans of intoxicating pleasure because, you never know. Frank was pervert sometimes.

Unfortunately, it seemed that no noise at all was coming from the room and this somewhat worried Frank. What if Gerard had died or something? And then Frank would be blamed for not paying attention to their guest. He just had to check to see if Gerard was dead, that was his excuse if Gerard happened to be not dead.

Frank placed his hand on the door knob. It was shaky and sweaty from his nervousness. He tried to convince himself that he was doing a good thing. Checking on Gerard to make sure he wasn’t dead.

His heartbeat was getting faster and his breathing heavier. He just had to open the door. Taking in a deep breath and murmuring and "ouch” thanks to his swollen lip, he turned the door knob slowly, revealing...

Nothing, empty.

The bed was unmade, the sheets tossed all over and there was an un-zipped suitcase lying haphazardly on the floor. No Gerard.

What the hell? Frank took one last look at the room and shut the door. He was confused, yet again.

Well, maybe Gerard went off for a walk or something. Although there was really nowhere interesting to go. He could have wandered off into the trees, or the woods, or to the mountain, or perhaps the lake nearby.

Yeah, Gerard probably went to the lake. It was quiet and nice there. Except for the bugs trying to bite and infect you with disease and the commercialism with all the little restaurants, golf courses and cabins, taking away the natural beauty of the whole place.

Anyway, the lake was only a couple miles away and Gerard could have easily walked there, but then he would have had to walk on the side of the highway, which would be kind of weird.

Frank rushed down the stairs, wanting to figure out where the hell Gerard was. Whatever, he could at least feed the chickens.

Opening the door to the porch, Frank pulled on his shoes and had his heart set on checking on the chicks, perhaps telling them about the most amazing orgasm he'd ever had and then possibly – most likely - ranting about getting punched in the face and not being able to figure out where the hell Gerard was... or Luke for that matter.

Frank walked slowly across the yard to the barn, his mouth aching with each step he took. He grimaced with pain, his eye now stinging. Holding his hand up to feel his mouth, he thought it maybe wouldn’t hurt as much when he walked if he held his jaw to keep his mouth closed.

Stumbling past the pine tree that towered tall beside the barn, he heard soft singing, the music carrying through the breeze. Something was weird, but yet there was a familiar vibe to it.

Frank snuck to the front of the barn, keeping his back to the wooden door and turning his head to sneak a peak into the barn. Preparing himself, he turned abruptly, only to find that nobody was in there, just the cows and the sheep. It reeked as usual, thoroughly disgusting... so why would Gerard be in there anyway?

Suddenly, something was rubbing against his leg and he gasped, startled. When he looked down, he found it was only one of the farm cats; the one that was blind in one eye.

“Don’t scare me like that Blindman,” Frank, keeping his voice low, whispered to the cat. Ugh, why the hell was he talking to a cat? Maybe talking to the chickens had rubbed off on him. Or maybe he had a very pathetic life. He shrugged.

Frank rounded the corner of the barn quietly and slowed his pace, the voice getting louder with each step he took. He still couldn’t make out what was being sung but it was coming from the outside of the chicken coop, where Frank usually hung out with the baby chickens.

Frank inhaled quickly and opened the fence door because he couldn’t fucking take it anymore. He could not handle this much anticipation. He gently pushed the door open, it creaking due to the lack of oil on the hinges. He entered the fenced area, leaving the birds panicking and scurrying away, clucking.

There sat a guy in a black t-shirt and tight jeans on Frank’s milk crate, a sketchbook in his lap and dark hair with a flash of red curtaining up against his chin. He looked up and blinked at Frank with his amazing, innocent hazel eyes. Fuck, Frank could get lost in them. It was definitely the same guy from the photograph. Gerard.

Gorgeous, but something like fear and surprise was suddenly set upon his face. He bit his lip and looked in the complete opposite direction of where Frank was standing.

'Say something you idiot!' Frank thought. He was just staring at the guy - Gerard - like a complete fool.

“... Hi,” Frank spoke softly, shyly. “Gerard, right?”

Gerard still averted his gaze from Frank, staring at the ugly wire fence like it was the most fascinating thing on earth.

“Stupid enough question, you newb,” Frank cursed himself under his breath.

Gerard raised his head, dark hair brushing over his shoulder with the movement, revealing a very noticeable, dark bruise on the right side of his neck.

Frank’s jaw literally dropped and he ignored the throbbing pain from the stupid cut. He could have guessed by the voice before, he could-

“Fuck!” Frank gasped, the realization hitting him hard, recalling when he bit down on 'Luke’s' neck last night during their throes of passion, or throes of getting off, whatever it was. That guy, 'Luke' was Gerard! Relief quickly rushed through him, only to be followed by anger and hurt. He gritted his teeth, his mouth hurting with the motion.

“Frank-” Gerard started to say, in the same raspy voice that told him secrets; that moaned in his ear, that fucking betrayed him. He set his sketchbook down and stood up.

“Fuck you!” Frank growled as Gerard took a step closer to him, the chickens chuckling and hopping around, unaware of the rising tension between the two.

Tears were threatening to fall again but Frank was not going to lose it, not for this jerk.

“Oh my God, Frank. What happened to your face? Are you alright?” Gerard asked as he came closer, eyes wide with concern, raising his hand to touch the bruise on Frank’s eye.

Frank jerked away from his hand. “Get the fuck away from me,” he said, voice low, turning to leave and run away.

“Frank, I’m sorry!” Gerard pleaded, blinking and biting his lip. He reached out to grab Frank’s arm to stop him from leaving.

“I fucking hate you, you lying asshole. For some fucking reason, some stupid fucking reason, I thought you were different. I thought you were for real. But I, like a stupid newb, I LET YOU... I- You fucking used me!” Frank shouted, pushing Gerard’s hand off him roughly and slamming the fence down behind him. “And don’t fucking follow me,” Frank said sternly, taking one last look at the hopeless expression on Gerard’s face.