Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Living In a World Without You
Frank’s POV
I hadn’t seen or heard from Gerard since we kissed a few hours ago and I was getting worried. I know I hurt his feelings by the way he slammed the door and the look on his face when I said I was trying to make our kiss seem more normal. I am such a fucking idiot, and I hated to admit it but I really enjoyed us kissing. I'm so messed up. I got my cell phone out and dialed his number.
He answered on the fifth ring. “H-hello?”
“Gee, are you okay? You sound like… like you’re in pain or something. What's wrong?”
I heard him let out a shaky breath. “Yeah I'm fine”
“Are you sure? Because you sound a little-”
I was cut off by a voice that wasn’t Gerard’s “He said he was fine.” It was Bert.
He hung up. Oh fuck. What was he doing with Bert again? That sick feeling showed up in the pit of my stomach again, the feeling I always get when I think about Gerard and Bert being together. It wasn’t fair; I wanted him all for myself. Bert better not steal my thunder on stage either and start rubbing up on Gerard like I'm supposed to when we hit the road again tomorrow! Wait… Why was I thinking like this? That was about the most selfish thing I've ever thought. But I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone other than myself touching Gerard. I owned him on that stage, and I wanted to own him outside of the stage. I wanted him to be mine all the time.
I sat down on the hotel bed and took my laptop out. Going straight to Google I searched ‘Frerard’. I've seen a lot of fans in the past sporting shirts or carrying flyers that have pictures of Gerard and I and they say Frerard but I've never taken the time to find out what’s behind it. I clicked on images.
Pictures of us kissing and touching each other on stage filled my computer screen. I moaned, as though I could physically feel him doing those things to me again. I clicked to the next page and started seeing photo shopped pictures and drawings of us having sex. I felt dick push against my jeans, these pictures were so hot I couldn’t take it. I lied down on my back keeping the computer in my view so I could see the pictures. I slowly traced my hand down my chest and into my pants, pretending it was Gerard. I grabbed myself and applied some pressure causing me to gasp, but stopped dead in my tracks when I heard the beep that the door makes when someone puts the key in. Gerard walked in and stared at me as I struggled to take my hand out of my pants and exit out of the site I was on.
He shook his head and went to lie down on his bed, curling up in the fetal position facing me. I studied him. His hair was all messy and there were… bite marks on his neck. I gulped.
“So what were you and Bert doing?” The sick feeling in my stomach grew even more.
“N-nothing, we were just hanging out” He turned over so his back was to me.
I walked over to his bed and sat down next to him. “I can tell when you’re lying Gee” I looked down at the marks on his neck again and sighed. “Did you have sex with him?”
He buried his face in the pillow as he started to cry.
I started rubbing his back. “Its okay sugar just let it all out. You’re gonna be fine” I bit my lip to stop myself from crying.
He sobbed. “It s-still hurts F-Frankie… It hurts sh-so much”
I wrapped my arms around him resting my chin on his shoulder and leaned my mouth toward his ear. “Tell me where it hurts…” I whispered as his body shuddered.
I wanted to make him feel better; I wanted to take his mind off of Bert… off of everything. I knew what I was going to do next was wrong, my best friend was hurt and the last thing that he needed was to be freaked out. But I just couldn’t help myself, I know I’m self centered and the only person I cared about was myself. But I wanted him, and he just looked so beautiful. I craved affection right now.
I moved my hand to the top of his chest and started slowly moving it down lower. “Does it hurt here?”
I felt his heart beat speed up and his breathing become uneven. “N-no”
I knew I was making him nervous, but was it a good kind of nervous or a bad kind? Did he want this just as bad as I did? My hand was now at his waistline. “Just say no if you want me to stop”
He didn’t say anything, so I continued. My fingers traced his lower stomach before I slipped my hand into his pants, still remaining above his underwear, and began to gently stroke him.
He gasped “Frank…”
“Shhh” I slid my face over to his neck and started kissing it lightly. He had stopped crying, so the only noise that now filled the room was his shaky breathing and the soft squeaks my lips made when the came in contact with his skin. As I felt him getting aroused I reached into his boxers and grabbed his hardened length.
“Oh god! Mmm” He groaned.
I smirked. “You like that?”
Without answering he rolled over on top of me and straddled me, grabbing the sides of my face as he kissed me forcefully. We continued to kiss and I moaned. He froze and slowly pulled away, not making eye contact with me.
“I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have… you… you’re married Frank. Oh god!” Tears were now rolling down his cheeks.
“Gerard, don’t cry. I touched you first; you don’t need to blame yourself” I put my hand on his face.
“Why?” He looked at me with pleading eyes.
“Well… It’s a long tour and… people get lonely…” My finger tips brushed his chest seductively.
Hurt and anger filled his eyes, slapping my hand away. “Real fucking nice Frank.”
He started to crawl off of me, still crying. Now realizing the meaning of what I had just told him. “No Gerard, wait!” I grabbed his side to try and pull him back towards me.
“Fuck!” He winced and screamed out, the crawled off the bed.
I stood up “Gerard what’s wrong? Oh god, are you okay?” tears filling my eyes.
“Yeah I'm fine, just a little sore” He said through clenched teeth.
Sore? Why would he be sore on his sides? I'm pretty sure his ass is the only thing that should be sore. I climbed off the bed and pulled his shirt up so I could see his sides. My eyes widened with fear. He had bruises and scratches on his side. As I studied them more closely I saw that the bruises looked like someone had squeezed him too tight and dug their fingernails into him.
“Oh my god... He… Did he do this to you?!” I was screaming, tears streaming down my face.
I hadn’t seen or heard from Gerard since we kissed a few hours ago and I was getting worried. I know I hurt his feelings by the way he slammed the door and the look on his face when I said I was trying to make our kiss seem more normal. I am such a fucking idiot, and I hated to admit it but I really enjoyed us kissing. I'm so messed up. I got my cell phone out and dialed his number.
He answered on the fifth ring. “H-hello?”
“Gee, are you okay? You sound like… like you’re in pain or something. What's wrong?”
I heard him let out a shaky breath. “Yeah I'm fine”
“Are you sure? Because you sound a little-”
I was cut off by a voice that wasn’t Gerard’s “He said he was fine.” It was Bert.
He hung up. Oh fuck. What was he doing with Bert again? That sick feeling showed up in the pit of my stomach again, the feeling I always get when I think about Gerard and Bert being together. It wasn’t fair; I wanted him all for myself. Bert better not steal my thunder on stage either and start rubbing up on Gerard like I'm supposed to when we hit the road again tomorrow! Wait… Why was I thinking like this? That was about the most selfish thing I've ever thought. But I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone other than myself touching Gerard. I owned him on that stage, and I wanted to own him outside of the stage. I wanted him to be mine all the time.
I sat down on the hotel bed and took my laptop out. Going straight to Google I searched ‘Frerard’. I've seen a lot of fans in the past sporting shirts or carrying flyers that have pictures of Gerard and I and they say Frerard but I've never taken the time to find out what’s behind it. I clicked on images.
Pictures of us kissing and touching each other on stage filled my computer screen. I moaned, as though I could physically feel him doing those things to me again. I clicked to the next page and started seeing photo shopped pictures and drawings of us having sex. I felt dick push against my jeans, these pictures were so hot I couldn’t take it. I lied down on my back keeping the computer in my view so I could see the pictures. I slowly traced my hand down my chest and into my pants, pretending it was Gerard. I grabbed myself and applied some pressure causing me to gasp, but stopped dead in my tracks when I heard the beep that the door makes when someone puts the key in. Gerard walked in and stared at me as I struggled to take my hand out of my pants and exit out of the site I was on.
He shook his head and went to lie down on his bed, curling up in the fetal position facing me. I studied him. His hair was all messy and there were… bite marks on his neck. I gulped.
“So what were you and Bert doing?” The sick feeling in my stomach grew even more.
“N-nothing, we were just hanging out” He turned over so his back was to me.
I walked over to his bed and sat down next to him. “I can tell when you’re lying Gee” I looked down at the marks on his neck again and sighed. “Did you have sex with him?”
He buried his face in the pillow as he started to cry.
I started rubbing his back. “Its okay sugar just let it all out. You’re gonna be fine” I bit my lip to stop myself from crying.
He sobbed. “It s-still hurts F-Frankie… It hurts sh-so much”
I wrapped my arms around him resting my chin on his shoulder and leaned my mouth toward his ear. “Tell me where it hurts…” I whispered as his body shuddered.
I wanted to make him feel better; I wanted to take his mind off of Bert… off of everything. I knew what I was going to do next was wrong, my best friend was hurt and the last thing that he needed was to be freaked out. But I just couldn’t help myself, I know I’m self centered and the only person I cared about was myself. But I wanted him, and he just looked so beautiful. I craved affection right now.
I moved my hand to the top of his chest and started slowly moving it down lower. “Does it hurt here?”
I felt his heart beat speed up and his breathing become uneven. “N-no”
I knew I was making him nervous, but was it a good kind of nervous or a bad kind? Did he want this just as bad as I did? My hand was now at his waistline. “Just say no if you want me to stop”
He didn’t say anything, so I continued. My fingers traced his lower stomach before I slipped my hand into his pants, still remaining above his underwear, and began to gently stroke him.
He gasped “Frank…”
“Shhh” I slid my face over to his neck and started kissing it lightly. He had stopped crying, so the only noise that now filled the room was his shaky breathing and the soft squeaks my lips made when the came in contact with his skin. As I felt him getting aroused I reached into his boxers and grabbed his hardened length.
“Oh god! Mmm” He groaned.
I smirked. “You like that?”
Without answering he rolled over on top of me and straddled me, grabbing the sides of my face as he kissed me forcefully. We continued to kiss and I moaned. He froze and slowly pulled away, not making eye contact with me.
“I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have… you… you’re married Frank. Oh god!” Tears were now rolling down his cheeks.
“Gerard, don’t cry. I touched you first; you don’t need to blame yourself” I put my hand on his face.
“Why?” He looked at me with pleading eyes.
“Well… It’s a long tour and… people get lonely…” My finger tips brushed his chest seductively.
Hurt and anger filled his eyes, slapping my hand away. “Real fucking nice Frank.”
He started to crawl off of me, still crying. Now realizing the meaning of what I had just told him. “No Gerard, wait!” I grabbed his side to try and pull him back towards me.
“Fuck!” He winced and screamed out, the crawled off the bed.
I stood up “Gerard what’s wrong? Oh god, are you okay?” tears filling my eyes.
“Yeah I'm fine, just a little sore” He said through clenched teeth.
Sore? Why would he be sore on his sides? I'm pretty sure his ass is the only thing that should be sore. I climbed off the bed and pulled his shirt up so I could see his sides. My eyes widened with fear. He had bruises and scratches on his side. As I studied them more closely I saw that the bruises looked like someone had squeezed him too tight and dug their fingernails into him.
“Oh my god... He… Did he do this to you?!” I was screaming, tears streaming down my face.
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