FicWad

Frank's Point of view


Gee, Mikey and I decided to walk to school again. Gee was in the middle with Mikey on is left and me on his right. My fingers were woven with his as he held my hand. There was a happy smile on my face as we talked about what Misfits song was the best.

We reached the campus in what seemed like no time. Mikey's first class was math- haha he has math first thing in the morning- and it was on the other side of the building than mine or Gee's. We yelled after him, making him fall. Gee chuckled and looked at me.

He brought my hand up and kissed the back of it, making me blush. A blond guy walked behind him, a girl draped over his arm. “Fucking fags.” I heard him mutter. Gee heard it to and glared after the meat head.

“Church Camp!” Gee shouted after the guy. He turned back and his face went pale. Gee smirked and looked back to me.

I felt the question burning in my eyes. He shrugged. “Mat and I used to be friends. He went to church camp when we were ten. You know the rumors about what goes on there.” he winked, making me laugh.

The five minute bell rang, sending kids running. Gee and I groaned together. “Class,” I said sadly. Gee's hand touched my cheek and I froze.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine. The kiss was short but very sweet. “Class,” he muttered darkly, pulling back. I grimaced and he chuckled. “See you in art.” he kissed me quickly and went down the hall, not hurrying.

“See you,” I murmured at his back. Just the thought made my heart squeeze.





Gerard's Point of view

My first class did little to distract me. I thought of Frankie. Of how cute his hair was today. The way his eyes sparkled in the lights over the sink, the soft conviction in his voice when he said he loved me, how smooth his lips were and how soft his skin was.

The bell rang, shattering my thoughts. It was the same in every class. None of the teachers called on me and I was left to think freely. When I walked into the art room, I really looked around for the first time.

My heart was thrown into over drive as I waited for him to walk through the door. I got my canvas and snagged his. I got some paint and started working on my zombie (I have a major problem. I wonder when the intervention is scheduled for) that was scratching at a bull skull with a confused look on it's dead face.

Hands appeared out of nowhere, closing around my waist. “Thanks for getting mine out too.” Frankie murmured against my neck. He kissed my cheek and went to get some paint. I smiled as I watched him grab the same colors he had used yesterday.

He sat down just as the bell rang. Mr. Barer strode in and started to instruct the class to do what most already had; to get back to work on their paintings. Frankie and I rolled our eyes at the same time.

Frankie slipped his earbuds in and started his music. I heard it and looked at him. There was a vacant look in his eyes and I looked at his brush. It was moving with the sureness that wasn't natural. When a human paints, there's always a hesitation before they put the brush against the canvas.

That wasn't there when Frankie painted. It moved so easily against the pale tan. Like he moved in the kitchen this morning. The brush moved against the canvas like he had moved across the kitchen when he cooked. Like it was dancing.

I looked back at his face. There was still a vacant look in his eyes, but a proud smile was tugging at his lips. Something cold touched my cheek and Frankie turned to look at me, the vacant look gone. “It's not nice to stare, Gee.” he giggled.

The brush had left his canvas and had moved across my face, leaving a small, red line under my right eye. He giggled again and said loudly “Gerard, you have paint on your face.” all the kids in the room turned and looked at us.

I felt my face get hot and I ducked my head. Frankie handed me a wet paper towel and I whipped at my cheek. He giggled again and went back to painting. Carefully, I looked at his eyes. The vacant look was back but there was still a small smile on his lips.

How strange. I turned back to my canvas and started to add details to my zombie. When the bell, I had little chunks of flesh hanging from it's face and worms crawling from it's nose.

I took a quick look at Frankie's and nearly gasped. He had added a huge amount of details in black. The lips of the girl were more defined and the eyelashes curled like they were real. Her face had been defined with thin strokes of black, adding contrast to the white Frankie had mixed with I kind of peach to make a pale ivory.

The shape of the hair had taken with the lines of black and deep purple shooting through the blue and green. If this girl was real, she would have a pixie cut, pretty blue eyes framed with thick lashes and a sweet smile. But she'd have to be in a lot of pain or very sad to be crying blood.

I shot a look at Frankie, who was washing his hands and talking to the girl next to him. I felt my head tilt and wondered if I should feel jealous. She was giggling and nodding a lot. I even heard part of their conversation. “and I love your painting. What made you want to do something like that though?” she asked, looking at Frankie with pure curiosity.

He shrugged and smiled. “Thanks. I don't really know why I painted that. I just.....did.” he shrugged again and threw away the towel he was drying his hands on. I looked back at his painting when he started to look at me.

From the corner of my eye, I saw him walk back to where I was sitting. “You like it?” he asked quietly. I nodded, not sure how to answer his simple question. He chuckled and nodded to mine. “I really like the detail you did on the maggots. And it's epic, by the way.” I looked back at my canvas and grinned, blushing slightly.

“Is it done?” he asked lightly. “Nearly,” I murmured, looking at my zombie. “I just need to add more details to it's clothes and it'll be done.” I smiled up at him and he was looking at my zombie. He still smiled and looked back at me.

“If you made it look anymore real, your going to scare the preps, love.” he murmured softly, making me blush deeply and look down again. His hand was under my chin, pulling my face up. He looked into my eyes and smiled.

“Don't be embarrassed, love. Your an awesome painter. Own it.” he kissed me softly before letting go of my face. I sighed and smiled.

Something shot across Frankie's face and his head whipped around, facing the door. “What-” the door blew open, reveling a very pissed Mikey.

“We're not eating in here. Let's go you two. Hustle!” he clapped his hands at us. I shot another look at Frankie, who was smiling. A question formed in the back of my mind, but I couldn't ask Frankie with Mikey here. I got up and started putting things away, cleaning up my place and brushes.

I would ask Frankie later. I wouldn't forget.







Kind of a filler but it brings up some serious chiz in the later chapters. R+R please!