FicWad

Dear Gerard,
Hello baby. I miss you. I saw you today, but you didn't notice me. Just like the start of our relationship, right baby? It's okay, I forgive you. You were in the library, in the teenage aisle again. I know you like that aisle because it's where your favourite Darren Shan books are. I read them too, the last one you returned? I took it out and smelled the spine. Aside from the usual old-book smell, I could smell you. It made me miss you more. I could almost taste your scent from it, like when I sneak into your room at night (gotta start locking that window baby, anybody could get in) and taste you. You've tasted me too. I know you like it. The taste of me in your mouth, the back of your throat. You've got such a pretty throat baby. I can't believe you didn't wake up. Those mornings when you woke up with a salty taste at the back of your throat, baby? That was me. You're so good.
Stop hiding my presents. I know you like them; I bought them especially for you. You know how awkward that was for me? I'm so shy and I walked into a sleazy-looking sex shop just to make you happy. Do you even care how humiliated I was, buying that vibrator? You should appreciate it. Use it. I know you want to. If it makes you feel better, I'll be watching.
I love you. We will be together.
Love forever,
Me.


With trembling hands, Gerard pushed the letter into the shoebox, where he kept all his other 'gifts'. He closed the lid tightly and taped around the sides and put it back into the usual place, the empty sport bag, and then he pushed it back in behind the drawers in the dresser. The space behind was getting full. The letters, toys and gifts he had been receiving were gathered carefully together and shoved into the hiding place. He felt physically sick. Standing, he disinfected his hands carefully with the bottle of hand sanitizer he had taken to carrying around.
He closed and locked his bedroom door behind him, wincing when the catch clicked, sounding deafening in the empty house. Walking down the stairs, Gerard wishes that he had taken Frank's offer to move in with him. Or Mikey's. They both agreed that Gerard shouldn't be left so alone in such an empty house. But no, he had to be stubborn and argue that 'I want to live on my own, I've never had my own house.' It was true though, he had never had the isolation and privacy of living on his own and he had wanted it. Now the band's tour was over, they had six months to relax, and write some songs for the next album, so really Gerard didn't have anything to do. So he wrote. Diaries about his own life. They had started as a way to just pass the time, and give him something to do, but since the letters they had become so much more. He poured his fear, shame and horror at the sickening gifts and sex toys into his diary. It was the one thing he didn't hold back.And the outfit. Oh, God, the outfit. Gerard trudged into the small, tidy kitchen and sat at the breakfast bar, holding his head in his hands. The outfit. It was a costume, really. Probably purchased from the same sex store Me frequented. It was a lacy and sleazy, revealing nurse's uniform. Unknowingly, Gerard had picked it up out of the unthreatening white box it came in, and held it up. Somebody had obviously altered it, making it even creepier for Gerard to look at. Two diamond shaped had been cut carefully into the fabric, where Gerard's nipples would be had he worn it. The skirt, (Oh, god it was a skirt) had been cut up even more, so it wouldn't have covered Gerard's ass. Gerard had picked it up and looked at it in morbid fascination, and blushed in humiliation when he saw it. He had issues with his body, he rarely took off his shirt if he thought people could see, never mind put on such a disgustingly slutty, creepy outfit. He hands shook and he worried a hole in his cheek with his teeth when he read his letter accompanying it.

Gee,
Baby. I want us to change our relationship. I want you to actually do something for me, for once, instead of having me chase you around and do all the work. Open the box and look at my gift. I want you to wear it for me. I know you'll enjoy it, I know how you love to show your body to me when you know I'm watching. Like yesterday, baby, you looked so sexy coming out of that shower, with your dripping ebony hair and small sparkles of water sliding down your body. I know you could see me watching. Oh, baby, you made me so hard. I had to jack off, I just had to. Do you like that thought? Of me, touching myself while you stood in our steamy bathroom, showing off? You pretended to be looking for shampoo, but I know better. You wanted me to see.
So now it's my turn. Put on the outfit for me, whenever you want, but make it today. I can't wait to see you in it. I just imagined and God, you made me so hard again. I was so turned on and I knew I had to do something for you, to make up for the shower show you gave me yesterday. So, I put the outfit on. I know you like that. I put it on and thought about you, about fucking your tight ass, and sinking my teeth into your throat and drinking the blood leaking down and I was so horny, I had to touch myself again. So I wore the outfit, and jacked off thinking about you, so when you put it on, my come will be touching your soft body. That idea turns me on so much, I know it's gonna make you hard, baby.
Tonight. I'll be watching.
I love you forever.
Me.

Gerard had dropped the dress, in horror and back away from it, into the bathroom and scrubbed his hands and arms until they turned red and started to peel. With shaking, sweating hands he poured some bleach into the sink and dipped his weeping hands into it. The pain was excruciating but it had to be done. When the boiling water and the bleach had cooled, he bandaged his hands and made his way back into his bedroom. He wrapped up the outfit, careful not to let it touch his skin again and taped it into its own box. He rose from his floor, the joints in his knees popping, and hid the box carefully in the bottom of the wardrobe in the spare room.

Now, Gerard bit his lip in shame. He knew he hadn't done anything to provoke this, this psycho to start stalking him, but he felt so ashamed of himself anyway. His mind told him that it was his fault, and he was right to feel guilty and humiliated because if he hadn't entertained the idea that Me had of them ever being a couple, Me would have stopped. But no, stubborn Gerard had to hide the gifts and forget to lock his window when he closed and locked everything else at night, and encourage this psycho into his house. To stand over him, and watch him sleep. To find the sight so arousing that, he had to take his hard dick out and touch against Gerard's lips, until he opened his mouth and Me had jerked off and thrusted against his open lips until he came into Gerard's mouth. Gerard stuck his fist against his mouth and stifled back the vomit that rose to his mouth when he thought of this. He had never worn the outfit. But when he was packing it away, he had noticed a small, crusted white stain on the stomach. He received another letter soon after.

Mr. Way,
Why didn't you wear it? After everything I've done for you, after everything, you HIDE it? Put it in the wardrobe and make me angry. I can't believe you would hurt me like this. I love you. I LOVE you. Don't you get it? We're meant to be together, forever and the sooner you accept it, the sooner we can be together. I'll have to punish you for this. I don't want to, but you've forced my hand. I gave you so many chances and you lost them all. Does it make you happy to hurt me? Me, the only one who loves you? I still love you, so don't worry. Don't bother locking your window tonight Gerard. I'll still get in to see you. I still love you, even after everything you've done to hurt me. How dare you deny our love?
I'll see you soon baby.
I still love you.
Me.

Gerard went to bed, remembering what he had done last night when he had gotten the threatening letter. He had gone out into town and bought more locks, came home and installed them on every door, locking every entrance and exit of the house. Gerard had then retired to a corner in the living room. He had drank cup after cup of coffee and stayed awake all night, clutching a newly-purchased Magnum in his sweating, shaking hand and the cold steel of a butcher knife in the waistband of his jeans. He sat, fully rigid all night, waiting for the blow to the head, the invasion of his home, the inevitable rape, murder. They never came. Gerard didn't know why.
//
The next day
/
Gerard slammed his closed fist into the cold, glass of his bathroom mirror. His reflection shattered and stuck itself into the flash of his hand. Red blood dripped onto the white porcelain of his sink as he reached across for his orange toothbrush and scrubbed his mouth and teeth thoroughly again. He rinsed and swilled a mixture of mouthwash and disinfectant around his mouth. He had woken again, with a stale salty taste in his mouth and a long, curving heart sliced into the soft flesh of his chest, through his t-shirt. Gerard was beginning to suspect that he had been drugged. It was just too far fetched to believe that he could have been mouth-raped and cut open without waking from a normal sleep. Gerard rubbed his sore eyes and thought suddenly; I can't do this.
I have to go somewhere; I have to get away from here. I'll go to Frank, he decided.
Gerard felt surprising, immense relief at this. Yes, he thought. I could just leave.
He returned to his bedroom to pack a bag, and without thinking, opening the drawers to retrieve his clothes. He froze when the white paper letters spilled from the bag behind into the drawer.
Gerard turned and stumbled down the stairs to his car.
Trembling with fear, humiliation at being run from his own home, the events and last night, and pure exhaustion flowed through him. It was like a wall, and each humiliation had built it up. But now the wall was broken down, and the pain and the shame made him cry.
Twenty minutes later he had made it to Frank's house, miraculously without crashing. He slammed the silver car door closed and quickly stumbling up to the door, he knocked hard three times.
"Gee?" Frank said, looking surprised but pleased. Gerard just looked at him. Frankie will help, he thought. "Can I come in?" He asked, and to his surprise his voice broke. Frank ushered him inside quickly, like Gerard he lived alone. Frank forced him onto the soft sofa and disappeared into the kitchen. He returned soon, and handed a steaming cup of tea to his friend. He sat beside him and stroked his back soothingly. Gerard realised he was still crying. "He just...Frank he won't stop. I don't know how to make him stop." He put his tea on the table but before he could put his head in his hands, Frank had gently lifted his arms and wrapped his own around his best friend. Gerard buried his face into the warm, familiar scent of Frank's neck. Frank shushed him, gently rocking back and forth. "Tell me, Gee what's wrong? Who did this to you?"
So Gerard told him, aching to feel the comfort of his best friend's arms again. Frank's face had darkened by the time Gerard had finished and he stroked his back gently, and handed him his tea, telling him to drink it before it got cold. Gerard tipped the mug back, drinking a few mouthfuls and placing the cup back on the floor. "Thank you." He said gratefully to Frank. "Of course, Gee, you know I love you." Gerard nodded weakly and his head began to spin. "But Gerard, why didn't you just wear it for him?" Frank asked, still rubbing his back. Gerard looked up at him dumbly. Frank continued to stroke Gerard's back, and shoulder and asked, "Why didn't you just do it for him? Do you know how much money he must have spent on you and you ignored all his gifts? Do you even know how much that hurt him?" Gerard tried to stand and stumbled, falling into his knees in front of Frank. He stroked his hair, and said quietly to Gerard; "You could have made him happy. But you had to be the stupid, stubborn, selfish Gerard as always. I spent hundreds of dollars on you and you hide my gifts? How could you?" Frank shook his head slowly and Gerard slid onto the cold floor, his head spinning. The last thing he saw was Frank pushing him down the stairs into his basement. The last thing he heard was the loving tone in Frank's voice when he told him he would die here. "And Gee," Frank blew a kiss to him, his shadow staining the staircase as the light from behind him flooded forward into the dark cellar, "I just can't wait to play with you when you're dead."