Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Demolition Lovers
AN: You guys ROCK! My God, when I saw those reviews, it made me feel all fuzzy inside. :3
...
Now y'all watch this shit hit the fan!
Frank finally took his shower at 10:00, after wandering aimlessly through the apartment with the T.V playing in the background.
After washing away the stickiness of last night, Frank couldn't believe how different it was. He wasn't scrubbing his skin raw to erase the disgust he felt, he was simply washing. He no longer felt his extreme self-hate, just a pleasant daze as he lathered his hair and rinsed.
'This is how it should be,' Frank thought dreamily.
He toweled himself off and wrapped his towel around his waist. Frank padded into Gerard's room (or was it his now too?) and grabbed his clothes from last night. He dried his hair and applied some eyeliner, trying to ignore his dislike of what he was about to do.
Frank put on his sneakers and went back to the kitchen. A spare key was hanging by the door, along with a notepad with emergency numbers written in Gerard's handwriting. Frank took the key and glanced at the pad, memorizing Gerard's cellphone number before stepping out and locking the door behind him.
Frank took his time walking to his old motel, stopping to look at shop windows every now and then. He reached the motel at about 11:20 and went inside.
He waved at the man behind the desk and strolled down the hallway to his room. With a practiced hand he swiped his key card and entered the room, hopefully for the last time.
Frank packed his clothes up in a large suitcase he'd gotten from
his dad. There was a feeling of detachment while he did it, because he didn't care if he ever saw this place again. Here was no sense of loss or sadness, just an eagerness to get the hell out of there.
He rolled his suitcase out of the now empty room and returned his key to the front desk. After paying for that week's stay, Frank swept from the building with what seemed like a world of stress taken off his shoulders.
He was free. Never again would he have to stand on that goddamn corner, never again would he let complete strangers degrade him like that, never again would he go back to that motel and scrub his skin until he bled, never again would he-
A car pulled up beside him, and a blonde-haired man poked his head out the window. With a jolt Frank realized it was an old customer of his, a guy named Henry.
"Well if it isn't my old friend Frank," said Henry, smirking lecherously. "How about we find ourselves a dark room somewhere?"
Frank glared at him, disgusted. "Piss off, Henry," he spat. "I don't do that anymore."
"That's a shame," said Henry, still smirking. "You were so good at it. How about one last time before you hang up the belt? What d'ya say?"
"I say leave me the fuck alone!" snarled Frank, starting to walk again.
Henry got out of his car and followed him. "Hey!" he said angrily. "Listen to me, you dirty little whore! You get in that car right now, and maybe I'll let you sit down after a week!"
Frank backed away, frightened. "Watch it, man! I don't do that! Just b-back off!"
Henry advanced and grabbed Frank's arm in a bone-crushing grip. Frank yelped. Henry dragged Frank back to his car and opened the door to toss him inside.
"Hey!" Frank yelled. "Help! HELP!"
He was being forced into the car now, one of Henry's hands wrapped around his throat. Frank couldn't believe this was happening; he wasn't a prostitute anymore! This doesn't happen to
normal guys!
"HELP!" he screamed, and Henry put a hand over his mouth.
"One more sound," Henry whispered threateningly. "One more sound and I'll make sure you never get back to whatever hole you're living in. Got it?" he barked.
Frank nodded, squeezing his eyes shut and hoping someone would come and save him. 'Oh please, Gerard,' he begged. 'Oh please come and save me from this guy! PLEASE!' Without being aware of it, Frank was crying.
Henry took his hand away from Frank's mouth and kissed him roughly. Frank kept his mouth shut and refused to respond. Henry snaked a hand up Frank's shirt and-
"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING TO MY BOYFRIEND?!"
-
Gerard had been driving home from work when he decided to stop by the motel Frank used to live in. Frank had told him the address the day before as they were walking up to his apartment. Being the good guy that he was, Gerard thought he'd go over and see if Frank was still there and needed a hand. He was probably two blocks away from the motel when he saw it; a blonde guy in his late twenties pushing Frank into a car.
Instantly, Gerard swerved to the side of the road and slammed the Subaru into park. He jumped out of the car and stormed over to where the guy had a grip on Frank's throat.
To his intense horror, Frank was crying. Gerard was seeing red, and when he saw the guy start kissing Frank and feeling him up, he flew into a protective-but-violent rage.
"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING TO MY BOYFRIEND?!" he roared.
Gerard saw Frank's eyes pop open; those beautiful green eyes were filled with fear. His blood boiled.
The guy stopped molesting Frank and looked at Gerard with a nervous grin. Gee felt the urge to knock his teeth into his throat and make him spit them up like a pez-dispenser.
"I think you're confused," said the penis with feet. "This is a prostitute, not your boyfriend."
Gerard was close enough to punch the dude now, but he held back. "Let him go, you son-of-a-bitch," he snarled.
Frank made a whimpering noise and Gee's heart broke. The guy's grip tightened on his throat.
"Now, there's no need for that kind of language. My name's Henry, and this is a whore," he said, pointing at Frank. "We're just gonna leave now. Good luck finding your boyfriend."
Gerard punched him in the nose. Henry stumbled back, clutching his bleeding face.
"He is not a whore," snarled Gerard. "His name is Frank. He's my boyfriend. Now I suggest you back the fuck off before I make you wear your testicles for earrings." Gerard's eyes were almost black, and though Henry was an inch taller, he retreated.
Gerard got Frank out of the vehicle and hugged him, still glaring at Henry over Frank's shoulder with enough fury to kill an elephant. "I should string your intestines up like telephone lines," he spat. "I would, too, but Frank and I are going to go home now, and we're never going to see you again. Got it?"
Henry cringed at the naked fury on Gerard's face. "Got it."
Before long Henry was zooming off to whatever sewer he came out of, and Gerard and Frank were alone.
"Hey," said Gerard softly, hugging his boyfriend tight. "Hey, Frankie. He's gone, okay?"
Frank buried his face into Gerard's neck, still shaking with deep sobs. "I t-t-thought he... I th-thought he was g-gonna..." He clutched onto Gerard's middle like his life depended on it. "I thought he was gonna rape me, Gee!" Frank sobbed.
"I know, babe, I know," Gerard soothed, stroking Frank's hair and blinking away his anger at Henry. It was still there, but right now Frank needed him. "But remember what I said? I'll never let them hurt you, I promise." Gerard hugged him a bit tighter and let go with one arm to grab Frank's suitcase. "Come on," he said gently. "Let's go home."
Once they were in the car, Frank buried his head in his hands. "I didn't think anyone would come," he said, his voice muffled and cracked. "I thought Henry would just take me away and no one would know. Oh God, Gerard, I'm just so glad you came!"
Gerard put the Subaru into drive and took one of Frank's hands in his own. As they pulled away from the sidewalk, Gerard started to sing.
"You're not in this alone
Let me break this awkward silence
Let me go, go on record
Be the first to say I'm sorry
Hear me out,
And if you take me down
Or would you lay me out
And if the world needs something better
Let's give them one more reason now, now, now
We walk in single file
We light our rails and punch our time
Ride escalators colder than a cell
ThIs broken city sky like butane on my skin
stolen from my eyes
Hello Angel, tell me where are you
Tell me where we go from here
This broken city sky like butane on my skin
stolen from my eyes
Hello Angel, tell me where are you
Tell me where we go from here
Tell me we go from...
And in this moment we can't close the lids on burning eyes
Our memories blanket us with friends we know like fallout vapors
Steel corpses stretch out towards an ending sun, scorched and black
It reaches in and tears your flesh apart
As ice cold hands rip into your heart
That's if you've still got one that's left inside that cave you call a chest
And after seeing what we saw, can we still reclaim our innocence
And if the world needs something better, let's give them one more reason now
This broken city sky like butane on my skin
stolen from my eyes
Hello Angel, tell me where are you
Tell me where we go from here
This broken city sky like butane on my skin
stolen from my eyes
Hello Angel, tell me where are you
Tell me where we go from here
Tell me where we go from here..."
Somewhere after the first chorus, Frank stopped crying. As Gerard's soft voice faded away, he looked up.
"Did you write that?"
Gerard paused and nodded. "I wrote it after the motel burned," he said quietly. "When I thought you were... gone. I wrote it because I needed to help myself, but there weren't any songs out there that fit."
Silence filled the car, then Frank said: "I used to play guitar. I could add some music to that, if you want me to. It's beautiful, like you." A thin chuckle escaped his lips. "Do you remember that? When I passed out on the pavement? The first thing I did was call you beautiful."
Gerard smiled. "Yeah, I remember. And then we ate kraft dinner and argued about Criminal Minds."
Soon they were both laughing, and it felt good to forget what almost happened, but Gerard knew he'd never really forget, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to stop himself if it happened again. Lyrics came to him then, and he strung them together in his mind.
Know how much
I want to show you
you're the only one
Like a bed of roses there's a dozen reasons in this gun
The words scared him a little, but he knew they were true.
Gerard Way knew he'd probably die if it meant Frank was kept safe.
:::::::::: Demolition Lovers ::::::::::
...
Now y'all watch this shit hit the fan!
Frank finally took his shower at 10:00, after wandering aimlessly through the apartment with the T.V playing in the background.
After washing away the stickiness of last night, Frank couldn't believe how different it was. He wasn't scrubbing his skin raw to erase the disgust he felt, he was simply washing. He no longer felt his extreme self-hate, just a pleasant daze as he lathered his hair and rinsed.
'This is how it should be,' Frank thought dreamily.
He toweled himself off and wrapped his towel around his waist. Frank padded into Gerard's room (or was it his now too?) and grabbed his clothes from last night. He dried his hair and applied some eyeliner, trying to ignore his dislike of what he was about to do.
Frank put on his sneakers and went back to the kitchen. A spare key was hanging by the door, along with a notepad with emergency numbers written in Gerard's handwriting. Frank took the key and glanced at the pad, memorizing Gerard's cellphone number before stepping out and locking the door behind him.
Frank took his time walking to his old motel, stopping to look at shop windows every now and then. He reached the motel at about 11:20 and went inside.
He waved at the man behind the desk and strolled down the hallway to his room. With a practiced hand he swiped his key card and entered the room, hopefully for the last time.
Frank packed his clothes up in a large suitcase he'd gotten from
his dad. There was a feeling of detachment while he did it, because he didn't care if he ever saw this place again. Here was no sense of loss or sadness, just an eagerness to get the hell out of there.
He rolled his suitcase out of the now empty room and returned his key to the front desk. After paying for that week's stay, Frank swept from the building with what seemed like a world of stress taken off his shoulders.
He was free. Never again would he have to stand on that goddamn corner, never again would he let complete strangers degrade him like that, never again would he go back to that motel and scrub his skin until he bled, never again would he-
A car pulled up beside him, and a blonde-haired man poked his head out the window. With a jolt Frank realized it was an old customer of his, a guy named Henry.
"Well if it isn't my old friend Frank," said Henry, smirking lecherously. "How about we find ourselves a dark room somewhere?"
Frank glared at him, disgusted. "Piss off, Henry," he spat. "I don't do that anymore."
"That's a shame," said Henry, still smirking. "You were so good at it. How about one last time before you hang up the belt? What d'ya say?"
"I say leave me the fuck alone!" snarled Frank, starting to walk again.
Henry got out of his car and followed him. "Hey!" he said angrily. "Listen to me, you dirty little whore! You get in that car right now, and maybe I'll let you sit down after a week!"
Frank backed away, frightened. "Watch it, man! I don't do that! Just b-back off!"
Henry advanced and grabbed Frank's arm in a bone-crushing grip. Frank yelped. Henry dragged Frank back to his car and opened the door to toss him inside.
"Hey!" Frank yelled. "Help! HELP!"
He was being forced into the car now, one of Henry's hands wrapped around his throat. Frank couldn't believe this was happening; he wasn't a prostitute anymore! This doesn't happen to
normal guys!
"HELP!" he screamed, and Henry put a hand over his mouth.
"One more sound," Henry whispered threateningly. "One more sound and I'll make sure you never get back to whatever hole you're living in. Got it?" he barked.
Frank nodded, squeezing his eyes shut and hoping someone would come and save him. 'Oh please, Gerard,' he begged. 'Oh please come and save me from this guy! PLEASE!' Without being aware of it, Frank was crying.
Henry took his hand away from Frank's mouth and kissed him roughly. Frank kept his mouth shut and refused to respond. Henry snaked a hand up Frank's shirt and-
"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING TO MY BOYFRIEND?!"
-
Gerard had been driving home from work when he decided to stop by the motel Frank used to live in. Frank had told him the address the day before as they were walking up to his apartment. Being the good guy that he was, Gerard thought he'd go over and see if Frank was still there and needed a hand. He was probably two blocks away from the motel when he saw it; a blonde guy in his late twenties pushing Frank into a car.
Instantly, Gerard swerved to the side of the road and slammed the Subaru into park. He jumped out of the car and stormed over to where the guy had a grip on Frank's throat.
To his intense horror, Frank was crying. Gerard was seeing red, and when he saw the guy start kissing Frank and feeling him up, he flew into a protective-but-violent rage.
"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING TO MY BOYFRIEND?!" he roared.
Gerard saw Frank's eyes pop open; those beautiful green eyes were filled with fear. His blood boiled.
The guy stopped molesting Frank and looked at Gerard with a nervous grin. Gee felt the urge to knock his teeth into his throat and make him spit them up like a pez-dispenser.
"I think you're confused," said the penis with feet. "This is a prostitute, not your boyfriend."
Gerard was close enough to punch the dude now, but he held back. "Let him go, you son-of-a-bitch," he snarled.
Frank made a whimpering noise and Gee's heart broke. The guy's grip tightened on his throat.
"Now, there's no need for that kind of language. My name's Henry, and this is a whore," he said, pointing at Frank. "We're just gonna leave now. Good luck finding your boyfriend."
Gerard punched him in the nose. Henry stumbled back, clutching his bleeding face.
"He is not a whore," snarled Gerard. "His name is Frank. He's my boyfriend. Now I suggest you back the fuck off before I make you wear your testicles for earrings." Gerard's eyes were almost black, and though Henry was an inch taller, he retreated.
Gerard got Frank out of the vehicle and hugged him, still glaring at Henry over Frank's shoulder with enough fury to kill an elephant. "I should string your intestines up like telephone lines," he spat. "I would, too, but Frank and I are going to go home now, and we're never going to see you again. Got it?"
Henry cringed at the naked fury on Gerard's face. "Got it."
Before long Henry was zooming off to whatever sewer he came out of, and Gerard and Frank were alone.
"Hey," said Gerard softly, hugging his boyfriend tight. "Hey, Frankie. He's gone, okay?"
Frank buried his face into Gerard's neck, still shaking with deep sobs. "I t-t-thought he... I th-thought he was g-gonna..." He clutched onto Gerard's middle like his life depended on it. "I thought he was gonna rape me, Gee!" Frank sobbed.
"I know, babe, I know," Gerard soothed, stroking Frank's hair and blinking away his anger at Henry. It was still there, but right now Frank needed him. "But remember what I said? I'll never let them hurt you, I promise." Gerard hugged him a bit tighter and let go with one arm to grab Frank's suitcase. "Come on," he said gently. "Let's go home."
Once they were in the car, Frank buried his head in his hands. "I didn't think anyone would come," he said, his voice muffled and cracked. "I thought Henry would just take me away and no one would know. Oh God, Gerard, I'm just so glad you came!"
Gerard put the Subaru into drive and took one of Frank's hands in his own. As they pulled away from the sidewalk, Gerard started to sing.
"You're not in this alone
Let me break this awkward silence
Let me go, go on record
Be the first to say I'm sorry
Hear me out,
And if you take me down
Or would you lay me out
And if the world needs something better
Let's give them one more reason now, now, now
We walk in single file
We light our rails and punch our time
Ride escalators colder than a cell
ThIs broken city sky like butane on my skin
stolen from my eyes
Hello Angel, tell me where are you
Tell me where we go from here
This broken city sky like butane on my skin
stolen from my eyes
Hello Angel, tell me where are you
Tell me where we go from here
Tell me we go from...
And in this moment we can't close the lids on burning eyes
Our memories blanket us with friends we know like fallout vapors
Steel corpses stretch out towards an ending sun, scorched and black
It reaches in and tears your flesh apart
As ice cold hands rip into your heart
That's if you've still got one that's left inside that cave you call a chest
And after seeing what we saw, can we still reclaim our innocence
And if the world needs something better, let's give them one more reason now
This broken city sky like butane on my skin
stolen from my eyes
Hello Angel, tell me where are you
Tell me where we go from here
This broken city sky like butane on my skin
stolen from my eyes
Hello Angel, tell me where are you
Tell me where we go from here
Tell me where we go from here..."
Somewhere after the first chorus, Frank stopped crying. As Gerard's soft voice faded away, he looked up.
"Did you write that?"
Gerard paused and nodded. "I wrote it after the motel burned," he said quietly. "When I thought you were... gone. I wrote it because I needed to help myself, but there weren't any songs out there that fit."
Silence filled the car, then Frank said: "I used to play guitar. I could add some music to that, if you want me to. It's beautiful, like you." A thin chuckle escaped his lips. "Do you remember that? When I passed out on the pavement? The first thing I did was call you beautiful."
Gerard smiled. "Yeah, I remember. And then we ate kraft dinner and argued about Criminal Minds."
Soon they were both laughing, and it felt good to forget what almost happened, but Gerard knew he'd never really forget, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to stop himself if it happened again. Lyrics came to him then, and he strung them together in his mind.
Know how much
I want to show you
you're the only one
Like a bed of roses there's a dozen reasons in this gun
The words scared him a little, but he knew they were true.
Gerard Way knew he'd probably die if it meant Frank was kept safe.
:::::::::: Demolition Lovers ::::::::::
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