Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > on the verge of something
Frank thought his heart was going to beat through his chest. His lungs were caving in. With every treacherous step he took into the area his father had designated he felt more and more lighthearted. He gulped. Faltering isn't going to help you now. Stay strong. He thought savagely, hearing the living room door close as his father shut it behind them. He was coming closer. Stay strong. Frank turned to face his dad. Stay strong. He thought again, his heartbeat mimicking the frequency of hummingbirds wings.
I didn't raise my son to be a fag. His father said quietly - Frank flinched at the harsh word, and he could detect the slightest trace of regret in his father's voice. This was never a good sign. I'm not... Frank pleaded, his green eyes welling up, one still bruised and beaten from a similar encounter. Stay strong.. Frank thought to himself again, watching as his father rhythmically raised his favored hand. All the same, Frank could not help himself from crying out as one sharp punch to his rib knocked him to the ground. He couldn't breathe. His father proceeded to lash out with his feet, still wearing his favorite leather pennyloafers, he attacked Frank and screamed with every syllable. My.. son.. is.. not.. a.. cocksucker. Frank pleaded, but he knew it was futile. His father would continue until he was satisfied.
Sweating and swearing, Mr. Iero grabbed Frank off the ground, lifting him easily and throwing him against the wall. He shattered a frame, and shards of the glass punctured Frank's sensitive skin. Frank screamed again, unable to incite his feeble, inner mantra any longer. He blacked out with the feeling of his father's fists connecting with his arms.
When he awoke he lay on his own bed, disoriented and bleeding. His mother must have carried him there. He thought of her lovingly, before dragging his body out of bed in order to examine the damage. It was two in the morning. With difficulty, he removed his shirt and examined himself in the mirror. His ribs were covered in a myriad of bruises, his stomach and back plagued by various lacerations, from his father's sharp shoes or the glass of the broken picture frame. Frank wondered idly which photograph it had contained. His skin looked as though it had been stained black and blue.
Frank allowed himself to shed a few bitter tears before removing his clothes in favor of ones that weren't caked in blood. He dressed quietly, painfully, arching his back to prevent the cloth from rubbing on any of his fresh wounds. He went the bathroom, methodical, and cleaned the blood from his arms, neck, and face. Luckily he had no new wounds on his face. He almost felt like thanking his father for that. He was about to sneak out the window, in accordance with his usual ritual when this sort of thing happened, for some alone time, when a thought struck him. It was a rather stupid thought, and he knew it might end up biting him in the ass, but he decided to go for it anyway.
Sifting through his backpack, he discovered exactly what he had been searching for - his new school's directory. With an expression that, curiously enough, almost resembled glee, he picked up the phone and, as quietly as he could, dialed the number he had been hoping to find. It rang three times, and Frank was about to hang up - he knew this was rude but maybe the person on the other end could look past it - when there was a click from the other end and a very familiar "hello."
*Gerard? Frank said breathlessly.
F..Frank? Frank was practically pissing himself that Gerard had recognized his voice. Yes.. what's up? Frank asked, fighting to keep his voice level. Just.. ah.. drawing.. How about you? Do you know what time it is? You're lucky my parents aren't home to hear the damned phone ring at 2 AM. Frank immediately felt guilty. I'm sorry, Gee.. I just.. Wanted to speak to y-- Gerard cut him off, What'd you just call me? Frank stared at the phone, more nervous than ever. Gee.. I'm sorry, do you not like that? This time Frank could sense almost a smile in Gerard's voice as he replied, No.. I love it. I was just wondering how you knew to call me that.. Listen.. Would you like to come over? Bingo. Frank nodded erratically before realizing that Gerard couldn't actually see him. I'd love to. Gerard proceeded to give Frank directions, and Frank was pleased that it was close - he was afraid his broken body wouldn't be able to take much distance.
10 minutes later, Frank was standing in front of the Way residence. He felt trepidation and feared that just walking in was perhaps not the best idea. However, Gerard was sticking his head out the front door moments later, beckoning him inside. Frank obeyed, and followed Gerard silently up to his room, which was the most secluded in the house, tucked away in the third story, near a teency little bathroom. Frank rather liked the idea of being in Gerard's room, and liked it even more when he was invited to take a seat on the bed. He obliged.
Gerard instantly sat next to him, sitting on his hands and shifting his head to meet Frank's eyes. All Frank could think about was how close their faces were. So what's the damage. Gerard asked, keeping his voice at a low whisper. Frank tried his hardest to feign confusion. Nothing, I just wanted to-- Gerard laughed, Dogshit. You're telling me you went to the trouble to look up my phone number at two-in-the-fuckin'-morning and call me, knowing full well I probably have parents who might hear the damn thing and kick my and/or your ass. No, I don't think that's the whole story, so tell me. Gerard had began his sentence in his most boisterous whisper, and over time it developed into a rather sympathetic croon.
Frank was silent. He looked down at his shoes, which were ratty, and then felt Gerard press his hand against his back. He flinched. Gerard looked puzzled. Did that hurt you? He whispered, removing his hand from Frank's searing flesh. Despite the pain, it felt almost... good. Frank shook his head, but Gerard was much too clever to be convinced by Frank's feeble lies. Gerard stood up. Frank, lift up your shirt. Frank faked a grin, You move fast, huh? Gerard was not amused. He persisted, Please? I'll lay off if you do.
Shaking with nervousness, Frank stood up and did as he was asked. Gerard's jaw hung open. What the fu.. what the fuck happened to you! He seemed no longer able to control the volume of his voice. Frank quickly shoved his shirt back down, wearing an expression of utmost shame. I fell. Gerard snorted, Don't fuckin' lie to me anymore, don't fuckin' do it, you can trust me... He rounded on Frankie, coming so close to him that their chests were almost touching, and he took Frank's hands in his. So tell me.
My dad.. Frank said, unable to breathe from the combination of being so close to Gerard, and their skin actually touching.. Gerard smelled incredible, he made his car's smell seem like nothing at all. And the electricity of their touch made Frank's heart race a thousand times faster than earlier that day. Gerard nodded. He understood. Gently, he moved Frank back to his bed and they sat beside each other. Frank tried not to look too sour as their hands parted. Can we not talk about it, please? Not now. Can I just.. can we just.. be here. And not worry about it.. Gerard nodded, his expression of utmost concern and heartbreak. Frank didn't want Gerard to feel sad because of him. It seemed unfair somehow.
Gerard suggested they watch a movie, and Frank agreed. Sitting on Gerard's bed, they watched it quietly. It was a horror movie Frank and Gerard both loved and could each quote from top to bottom, but neither minded that they'd seen it before. About halfway through, Frank began to get sleepy, and his eyes fluttered shut for a few seconds - Gerard noticed. Lie down. He whispered gingerly, patting his bed. Frank was too tired and intrigued to object. Do you mind if I do too? Gerard inquired, fixing Frank with his most alluring stare. Frank couldn't help but smile. Not at all. And so they lay down together. Frank was having trouble controlling his breathing, and Gerard noticed/ Are you okay? He asked, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
I'm fine! Frank assured him, a little too quickly. Gerard scooted the tiniest bit closer, rolling over onto his side so that they faced one another. Their faces were inches apart, and both boys seemed rather breathless as a result.
Can I kiss you? Gerard asked softly, sweetly, his pale eyes connecting with Frank's brilliantly green ones, melting them, their hearts racing in unison. Frank nodded quietly, drawing his head in to Gerard's, he felt as though his heart might actually burst, explode, and then their lips met and every inch of his skin was electric, his knees were jelly. Their lips pressed together and became one, like one fire joining with another, and their tongues worked against eachother, biting and nipping playfully and sensually and Frank's hands were tracing Gerard's perfect body and god, he never fucking wanted it to end because they were in his bed making out and what in the whole fucking world feels better than kissing someone you really like for the first time?
A/N
I'm a bitch. Cliffhanger, I know. :D
Enjoy this one! Hope you all like it.
Be sure to rate and review.
I didn't raise my son to be a fag. His father said quietly - Frank flinched at the harsh word, and he could detect the slightest trace of regret in his father's voice. This was never a good sign. I'm not... Frank pleaded, his green eyes welling up, one still bruised and beaten from a similar encounter. Stay strong.. Frank thought to himself again, watching as his father rhythmically raised his favored hand. All the same, Frank could not help himself from crying out as one sharp punch to his rib knocked him to the ground. He couldn't breathe. His father proceeded to lash out with his feet, still wearing his favorite leather pennyloafers, he attacked Frank and screamed with every syllable. My.. son.. is.. not.. a.. cocksucker. Frank pleaded, but he knew it was futile. His father would continue until he was satisfied.
Sweating and swearing, Mr. Iero grabbed Frank off the ground, lifting him easily and throwing him against the wall. He shattered a frame, and shards of the glass punctured Frank's sensitive skin. Frank screamed again, unable to incite his feeble, inner mantra any longer. He blacked out with the feeling of his father's fists connecting with his arms.
When he awoke he lay on his own bed, disoriented and bleeding. His mother must have carried him there. He thought of her lovingly, before dragging his body out of bed in order to examine the damage. It was two in the morning. With difficulty, he removed his shirt and examined himself in the mirror. His ribs were covered in a myriad of bruises, his stomach and back plagued by various lacerations, from his father's sharp shoes or the glass of the broken picture frame. Frank wondered idly which photograph it had contained. His skin looked as though it had been stained black and blue.
Frank allowed himself to shed a few bitter tears before removing his clothes in favor of ones that weren't caked in blood. He dressed quietly, painfully, arching his back to prevent the cloth from rubbing on any of his fresh wounds. He went the bathroom, methodical, and cleaned the blood from his arms, neck, and face. Luckily he had no new wounds on his face. He almost felt like thanking his father for that. He was about to sneak out the window, in accordance with his usual ritual when this sort of thing happened, for some alone time, when a thought struck him. It was a rather stupid thought, and he knew it might end up biting him in the ass, but he decided to go for it anyway.
Sifting through his backpack, he discovered exactly what he had been searching for - his new school's directory. With an expression that, curiously enough, almost resembled glee, he picked up the phone and, as quietly as he could, dialed the number he had been hoping to find. It rang three times, and Frank was about to hang up - he knew this was rude but maybe the person on the other end could look past it - when there was a click from the other end and a very familiar "hello."
*Gerard? Frank said breathlessly.
F..Frank? Frank was practically pissing himself that Gerard had recognized his voice. Yes.. what's up? Frank asked, fighting to keep his voice level. Just.. ah.. drawing.. How about you? Do you know what time it is? You're lucky my parents aren't home to hear the damned phone ring at 2 AM. Frank immediately felt guilty. I'm sorry, Gee.. I just.. Wanted to speak to y-- Gerard cut him off, What'd you just call me? Frank stared at the phone, more nervous than ever. Gee.. I'm sorry, do you not like that? This time Frank could sense almost a smile in Gerard's voice as he replied, No.. I love it. I was just wondering how you knew to call me that.. Listen.. Would you like to come over? Bingo. Frank nodded erratically before realizing that Gerard couldn't actually see him. I'd love to. Gerard proceeded to give Frank directions, and Frank was pleased that it was close - he was afraid his broken body wouldn't be able to take much distance.
10 minutes later, Frank was standing in front of the Way residence. He felt trepidation and feared that just walking in was perhaps not the best idea. However, Gerard was sticking his head out the front door moments later, beckoning him inside. Frank obeyed, and followed Gerard silently up to his room, which was the most secluded in the house, tucked away in the third story, near a teency little bathroom. Frank rather liked the idea of being in Gerard's room, and liked it even more when he was invited to take a seat on the bed. He obliged.
Gerard instantly sat next to him, sitting on his hands and shifting his head to meet Frank's eyes. All Frank could think about was how close their faces were. So what's the damage. Gerard asked, keeping his voice at a low whisper. Frank tried his hardest to feign confusion. Nothing, I just wanted to-- Gerard laughed, Dogshit. You're telling me you went to the trouble to look up my phone number at two-in-the-fuckin'-morning and call me, knowing full well I probably have parents who might hear the damn thing and kick my and/or your ass. No, I don't think that's the whole story, so tell me. Gerard had began his sentence in his most boisterous whisper, and over time it developed into a rather sympathetic croon.
Frank was silent. He looked down at his shoes, which were ratty, and then felt Gerard press his hand against his back. He flinched. Gerard looked puzzled. Did that hurt you? He whispered, removing his hand from Frank's searing flesh. Despite the pain, it felt almost... good. Frank shook his head, but Gerard was much too clever to be convinced by Frank's feeble lies. Gerard stood up. Frank, lift up your shirt. Frank faked a grin, You move fast, huh? Gerard was not amused. He persisted, Please? I'll lay off if you do.
Shaking with nervousness, Frank stood up and did as he was asked. Gerard's jaw hung open. What the fu.. what the fuck happened to you! He seemed no longer able to control the volume of his voice. Frank quickly shoved his shirt back down, wearing an expression of utmost shame. I fell. Gerard snorted, Don't fuckin' lie to me anymore, don't fuckin' do it, you can trust me... He rounded on Frankie, coming so close to him that their chests were almost touching, and he took Frank's hands in his. So tell me.
My dad.. Frank said, unable to breathe from the combination of being so close to Gerard, and their skin actually touching.. Gerard smelled incredible, he made his car's smell seem like nothing at all. And the electricity of their touch made Frank's heart race a thousand times faster than earlier that day. Gerard nodded. He understood. Gently, he moved Frank back to his bed and they sat beside each other. Frank tried not to look too sour as their hands parted. Can we not talk about it, please? Not now. Can I just.. can we just.. be here. And not worry about it.. Gerard nodded, his expression of utmost concern and heartbreak. Frank didn't want Gerard to feel sad because of him. It seemed unfair somehow.
Gerard suggested they watch a movie, and Frank agreed. Sitting on Gerard's bed, they watched it quietly. It was a horror movie Frank and Gerard both loved and could each quote from top to bottom, but neither minded that they'd seen it before. About halfway through, Frank began to get sleepy, and his eyes fluttered shut for a few seconds - Gerard noticed. Lie down. He whispered gingerly, patting his bed. Frank was too tired and intrigued to object. Do you mind if I do too? Gerard inquired, fixing Frank with his most alluring stare. Frank couldn't help but smile. Not at all. And so they lay down together. Frank was having trouble controlling his breathing, and Gerard noticed/ Are you okay? He asked, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
I'm fine! Frank assured him, a little too quickly. Gerard scooted the tiniest bit closer, rolling over onto his side so that they faced one another. Their faces were inches apart, and both boys seemed rather breathless as a result.
Can I kiss you? Gerard asked softly, sweetly, his pale eyes connecting with Frank's brilliantly green ones, melting them, their hearts racing in unison. Frank nodded quietly, drawing his head in to Gerard's, he felt as though his heart might actually burst, explode, and then their lips met and every inch of his skin was electric, his knees were jelly. Their lips pressed together and became one, like one fire joining with another, and their tongues worked against eachother, biting and nipping playfully and sensually and Frank's hands were tracing Gerard's perfect body and god, he never fucking wanted it to end because they were in his bed making out and what in the whole fucking world feels better than kissing someone you really like for the first time?
A/N
I'm a bitch. Cliffhanger, I know. :D
Enjoy this one! Hope you all like it.
Be sure to rate and review.
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