FicWad

[A/N: Loosely based on my interpretation of Florence + The Machine's album, Lungs. So. This story is told in Frank's point of view. There'll be more frerard later on, okay. Oh, and happy Ieroween!]

My heart's beating at a million miles an hour.

Today I'm going to come clean. Today's the day I'm going to call up Gerard Way, tell him that I've been hopelessly in love with him ever since we'd both learnt to speak, and then, the confrontation will end with really hot phone sex. (Which is so unlikely, its not even funny. But whatever.)

Ok, Frank. Calm. Breathe. Think Dalai Lama.

Here goes.

I dial Gerard's number on my cellphone. He answers after the fifth ring. "Hello?”

"HI GEE!!" I practically scream into the phone, trying to hide my stutter. A loud crash sounds from the receiver. Gerard’s dropped his phone, and I can hear him scrambling to pick it up. "Fucking shit on a stick, Frank, don't yell at me over the phone. You'll burst one of my eardrums!" He groans.

Shit. This is going great. "HAHAHAHAHA sorry, Gee. Must be the nerves."

There's an awkward pause.

"What are you nervous about?" Gerard asks. My heart feels as though its plunged into my stomach. "Nervous. Um. Nervous- I. Um. Because I wanted to tell you that, um. Because, um, you see, I, you me... never mind. Can I come over?" I babble. There's an even longer pause. "Okay... sure. I guess. See you in ten, alright? Bye." He puts the phone down. Way to go, Frank. Way to go.

I disgust myself. I really do.

**

Ten minutes later, I'm standing outside Gerard's house in a brand new Iron Maiden shirt, and my scruffy old skinny jeans.

Ok. I can do this.

I knock on the door a couple of times, and wait for Gerard to come. (Ooh. Dirty.) A couple of seconds later, the door opens and Gerard is there, with a big smile on his pale face. My knees start to go all gooey, and the butterflies in my stomach are back with a vengeance.

FUCK, FRANK. THINK COOL.

"Hi Gee," I manage to squeak, and give him a gay little wave for good measure. "Hey Frankie. Come on in," he grins, grabs my arm (my stomach almost explodes with butterflies) and drags me to his room. I've always loved Gerard's room. The walls are plastered with band and movie posters, while his bookshelf is pretty much overflowing with sketchbooks and graphic novels. Plus, his room's in the basement, so there's only one tiny little window. It's my idea of heaven.

"So, Frankieboy," Gerard drawls as he sits down onto his deskchair. "Whats wrong? You sounded weirder than usual over the phone."

Come on, Frank. THIS IS YOUR MOMENT TO SHINE! squeals an annoying little voice at the back of my head. One, Two, Three. GERARD, I LOVE YOU.

"Yeah, about that, Gee." I mumble, sinking to the floor, trying to ignore the fucking annoying voice. "Do you still, um, have a thing for Bert?"

Gerard freezes. "Bert... as in. My ex-boyfriend?" His eyes narrow. I nod hastily. " Yeah, him." A couple of weeks ago, Gerard was going out with Bert McCracken, the resident school druggie, until one day, the guy accused Gerard of beating him up. I saw his bruises and all, but I didn't believe for one second that Gerard would be capable of that kind of violence. Bert probably got beat up by his drug dealer or something. Anyway, since the whole accusation thing, Gerard's always avoided talking about Bert altogether.

"Well... no. I mean, I had a thing for him once. But not anymore." He finally mumbles, looking down at his fingers. Ok. That's good. He doesn't like Bert anymore. Yay! Here we go. "Gee," I clear my throat. "I have something to tell you. But before I do, you have to promise not to freak out. Or hate me. Okay?"

Gerard looks at me like I've suddenly sprouted two heads. "Okay...?" He blinks at me. Then his eyes narrow for the second time today. "Unless you were the fucker who broke my ipod last Christmas." Oh. Well. Incidentally, that was me. But he doesn't need to know that. "It's not about that," I attempt to grin, then take a deep breath, and look down at my shoes.

"gerdivelikedyousinceiwasttwelvepleasedonthatemecanibeyourboyfriend?" I practically word vomit. There's a long, awkward pause. I look up and find that Gerard's face has gone a pale shade of green. "Wait. What? Say that again. Slowly." He stands up and towers over my tiny frame. "I like you, Gee." I say in a small voice, rocking back and forth on my feet and staring at the ground. There's another long, agonizing pause. "Frank, I... I can't deal with this now." Gerard runs from the room. The door slams shut, and my heart breaks.