FicWad

It's a quiet, peaceful Sunday afternoon.

Gerard and I are lazing around, on a deserted hill, a few kilometres away from civilization. We both lay down on the grass and stare up at the pale blue sky, staying silent and getting lost in our own thoughts.

A few hours ago, we killed another one of my tormentors. Gerard severed a bunch of his veins, while I shot him in the face. I don't recall ever seeing so much blood...

Well.

Maybe not.

I mean, after all, that's usually how we kill these bastards, but Brad Whittler (Brad... I know. Cheesy, right?) seemed to have two times the amount of blood of an average human being.

Whatever. We ended up stuffing what was left of him in a garbage can next to a car park. Funny how nobody noticed us, though.

I turn away from the sky and look at Gerard. He flicks open his penknife, staring intently at the blade, a faraway look on his pale face. He feels my gaze on him, and he turns to stare back, his dark eyes glinting.

"Yes, Frankie?" He questions coyly.

I feel the heat rush to my cheeks.

Yes, even I, Frank Iero, a notorious mass murderer is capable of sheer and utter embarrassment.

"N-Nothing," I fumble for words. "Just... looking."

Gerard sits up, the knife still in his hand, and stares at me. His face is plastered with a teasing smirk.

I feel myself go, if possible, even redder.

"Just looking at... me?" Gerard beams cockily, wiggling his eyebrows. The son of a bitch knows damn well that I am beyond embarrassed right now, couldn't he at least cut me some fucking slack?

"N-no, I was looking at your... jacket." I blatantly lie, sitting up and going so red, my face is possibly about to fall off.

... If Gerard's smirk gets any bigger, his face is seriously going to split in half.

I start uprooting bits of grass on impulse, looking anywhere but at Gerard.

Next thing I know, Gerard's managed to cram his body next to mine, and he whispers in my ear, "Frank. You're really cute, you know that?" I can feel him smile against my earlobe.

Oh shutupshutupshutup Gerard.

My face is about to fall off. Of this, I am certain.

Just as Gerard is about to make another snarky remark, we hear cars coming up the road. Lots of them.

Oh, fuck.

Gerard leaps away from me and hisses, "Fuck, Frank, disguises! Quick!" He dashes back to the car, rips the passenger door open and gets out a familiar black bag from under the seat. "Ok, we'll pretend to be brothers, okay. Just... wear that mustache and beard thing and you'll be fine." He snaps, tearing the bag open and flinging a false beard at me, while he gets a hat and sunglasses on.

Before we get in the car and drive off, I catch a look at myself in one of the car's mirrors. I look so fucking unconvincing, its not even funny.

But whatever. We'll only stop if its policemen. Then we pretend to be Spanish tourists who can't speak English.

That is plan A.

However, plan A has never worked, so we always go with plan B.

"Frank, if worse comes to worse, we'll just go through with plan B as we usually do and shoot 'em in the face, okay?" Gerard smiles gaily, as though he's talking about the weather.

Right. There you go.

"Oh, and Frank?" Gerard starts up the car, and the vehicle splutters to life. " If I die and don't see you again, you should know that I love you." He leans forward, rips my beard off, grabs my face and kisses me.

I freeze.

He pulls back and lovingly rubs his thumb across my cheek, while my brain dies and goes to heaven.

"See, Frank. That's how you make a love confession." He winks at me, and we drive off, my mind still in a whirl.

[A/N: Bahahaha this was complete fucking crap, I swear, I just felt pressurized to update one of my fics. The next chapter will be much better. Gerard and Frank will be much more violent. And sickeningly lovey dovey. Title comes from Alesana.]