Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
One more shot, then I'm quitting forever
Cross my heart, cross my fingers
Cross my heart, cross my fingers
"Fwankieee," Gerard slurred, "just one mwore. I pwoomise. Then, then I quit foreverrrr. For yooou."
He pouted, moving ever closer to Frank. Frank could smell the taint of alcohol on Gerard's breath, and the younger man's heart plummeted as he pushed Gerard away.
"No, Gerard."
His answer was soft but firm, and Gerard's pout deepened.
"But Frankie-"
"No, Gerard!" Frank exclaimed as he choked back tears. This was the fifth time. The fifth promise. The fifth clear shot of grey goose vodka that rested on the marble counter, no more than fifteen feet away.
Frank turned away, folding his arms over his chest. The permanent ink across his arms dulled in the soft white light, as if to reflect the aching thud of his slowly breaking heart. Tears began to run down his face, searing his cheeks and the tip of his nose.
"Frankie, are you sad?"
"No, Gerard. I'm not sad." Frank's cheeks colored as his voice crackled from emotion.
Gerard moved in closer, brushing back a lock of Frank's charcoal hair. Frank smelled the reek of alcohol once more.
"I'm fine, Gerard."
"Don't, Frank. Don't be sad," Gerard replied, his voice like that of a small, pleading child.
He leaned in, softly kissing Frank's nose. Gerard leaned his forehead against Frank's, and Frank's inner voices began to duel furiously.
Push him away.
No.
He's drunk.
What if he likes me?
Why on earth would a god like him love a fuck-up like you? He's drunk.
...So?
Drinking impairs your judgement, fuckwit. How many times have you woken up in a stranger's bed the morning after?
But...he kissed my nose!
He's drunk.
Frank willed away the voices, not making a move forward or backward. He just sat still, waiting. For what, he wasn't entirely sure.
"I'm not sad Gerard, I'm fucking fine." He said it almost to convince himself. He was perfectly fine. Totally and completely OK.
"Bullshit, Frank."
Gerard seemed to have sobered up considerably.
But then again, it was probably Frank's mind playing tricks on him again. Just like always.
He's probably not even gay.
Frank leaned against the wall, forcing himself to stare at the weathered ceiling. Gerard chose to curl into his lap like a child, resting his head against Frank's neck. Frank couldn't help but wrap his arms around the other man, letting a sigh escape his lips.
He wasn't annoyed-simply sad. He knew the only time this ever happened was when Gerard was completely and totally wasted.
Frank only mattered when Gerard was wasted.
Frank's hazel eyes gazed down as Gerard's celery irises looked up, and their eyes locked but for a moment. Gerard nuzzled Frank's neck, and Frank couldn't help but sigh again and shake his head.
"Frankie, what's wrong?"
He looked down to see concerned emerald rings staring up at him, waiting patiently for an answer.
For a moment, he stared.
Then, Frank shakily inhaled.
"You and me. That's what's wrong. You're this perfect angel when you're sober, and just as beautiful when you're high as a kite or drunk off your ass. I'm there every time you come down, but you never think of me when you fall up. You're this metaphor for perfection and I'm nothing to you. I only matter when you've had too many beers. I only matter when you're unstable. It's like the only reason I'm ever around is to fix you when you've gone and broken yourself all over again." Frank paused, wiping the rivers of hurt from his face, and finished. "That's what's wrong, Gerard. You're all I want, but all you want is another drink."
Frank involuntarily sniffled, feeling like a stupid teenager all over again.
Then he felt a pair of lips crashing into his.
Stunned, Frank slowly began to work his lips against Gerard's, savoring every moment of the irreparable damage to his already shattered heart.
Frank did not think about picking up the pieces, the next morning.
He didn't think about the state he was in.
He didn't even think about how Gerard was drunk.
He let himself drown, instead, into a sea of love and fantasies of compassion and warm nights spent snuggling and kissing by a rapidly dimming fire.
But every kiss has to end-and this one, Frank realized, was no exception. He pulled away, eyes still closed as he desperately tried to cling to the quickly evaporating passion in the air.
Gerard rested his forehead against Frank's, and spoke as steadily as he could, doing his best not to stutter or slur his words.
"Frank...you do matter. A-all the time."
Gerard closed his eyes tightly, and breathed deep.
"I love you, Frank."
Frank's eyelids closed, and he let Gerard kiss him again, but refused to respond. He opened them to see questioning eyes that waited for the right answer.
He's drunk.
Frank turned away, forcing out words he knew he'd regret.
"Call me when you're sober."
He slowly pushed Gerard away, numb, and left without another word. Gerard stared, motionless, into the infinite abyss that replaced Frank's frantically sought-after presence.
Frank stepped into the frigid air, shivering in his T-shirt and jeans. He walked home, letting the freezing temperatures numb his heart as snowflakes swirled round his head, and earlier thoughts echoed through his mind.
You only matter when he's drunk.
(A/N): Hope you enjoyed! As always please R&R, I love hearing what you guys have to say. Kudos if you know where the lyrics at the beginning are from. ;]
Cross my heart, cross my fingers
Cross my heart, cross my fingers
"Fwankieee," Gerard slurred, "just one mwore. I pwoomise. Then, then I quit foreverrrr. For yooou."
He pouted, moving ever closer to Frank. Frank could smell the taint of alcohol on Gerard's breath, and the younger man's heart plummeted as he pushed Gerard away.
"No, Gerard."
His answer was soft but firm, and Gerard's pout deepened.
"But Frankie-"
"No, Gerard!" Frank exclaimed as he choked back tears. This was the fifth time. The fifth promise. The fifth clear shot of grey goose vodka that rested on the marble counter, no more than fifteen feet away.
Frank turned away, folding his arms over his chest. The permanent ink across his arms dulled in the soft white light, as if to reflect the aching thud of his slowly breaking heart. Tears began to run down his face, searing his cheeks and the tip of his nose.
"Frankie, are you sad?"
"No, Gerard. I'm not sad." Frank's cheeks colored as his voice crackled from emotion.
Gerard moved in closer, brushing back a lock of Frank's charcoal hair. Frank smelled the reek of alcohol once more.
"I'm fine, Gerard."
"Don't, Frank. Don't be sad," Gerard replied, his voice like that of a small, pleading child.
He leaned in, softly kissing Frank's nose. Gerard leaned his forehead against Frank's, and Frank's inner voices began to duel furiously.
Push him away.
No.
He's drunk.
What if he likes me?
Why on earth would a god like him love a fuck-up like you? He's drunk.
...So?
Drinking impairs your judgement, fuckwit. How many times have you woken up in a stranger's bed the morning after?
But...he kissed my nose!
He's drunk.
Frank willed away the voices, not making a move forward or backward. He just sat still, waiting. For what, he wasn't entirely sure.
"I'm not sad Gerard, I'm fucking fine." He said it almost to convince himself. He was perfectly fine. Totally and completely OK.
"Bullshit, Frank."
Gerard seemed to have sobered up considerably.
But then again, it was probably Frank's mind playing tricks on him again. Just like always.
He's probably not even gay.
Frank leaned against the wall, forcing himself to stare at the weathered ceiling. Gerard chose to curl into his lap like a child, resting his head against Frank's neck. Frank couldn't help but wrap his arms around the other man, letting a sigh escape his lips.
He wasn't annoyed-simply sad. He knew the only time this ever happened was when Gerard was completely and totally wasted.
Frank only mattered when Gerard was wasted.
Frank's hazel eyes gazed down as Gerard's celery irises looked up, and their eyes locked but for a moment. Gerard nuzzled Frank's neck, and Frank couldn't help but sigh again and shake his head.
"Frankie, what's wrong?"
He looked down to see concerned emerald rings staring up at him, waiting patiently for an answer.
For a moment, he stared.
Then, Frank shakily inhaled.
"You and me. That's what's wrong. You're this perfect angel when you're sober, and just as beautiful when you're high as a kite or drunk off your ass. I'm there every time you come down, but you never think of me when you fall up. You're this metaphor for perfection and I'm nothing to you. I only matter when you've had too many beers. I only matter when you're unstable. It's like the only reason I'm ever around is to fix you when you've gone and broken yourself all over again." Frank paused, wiping the rivers of hurt from his face, and finished. "That's what's wrong, Gerard. You're all I want, but all you want is another drink."
Frank involuntarily sniffled, feeling like a stupid teenager all over again.
Then he felt a pair of lips crashing into his.
Stunned, Frank slowly began to work his lips against Gerard's, savoring every moment of the irreparable damage to his already shattered heart.
Frank did not think about picking up the pieces, the next morning.
He didn't think about the state he was in.
He didn't even think about how Gerard was drunk.
He let himself drown, instead, into a sea of love and fantasies of compassion and warm nights spent snuggling and kissing by a rapidly dimming fire.
But every kiss has to end-and this one, Frank realized, was no exception. He pulled away, eyes still closed as he desperately tried to cling to the quickly evaporating passion in the air.
Gerard rested his forehead against Frank's, and spoke as steadily as he could, doing his best not to stutter or slur his words.
"Frank...you do matter. A-all the time."
Gerard closed his eyes tightly, and breathed deep.
"I love you, Frank."
Frank's eyelids closed, and he let Gerard kiss him again, but refused to respond. He opened them to see questioning eyes that waited for the right answer.
He's drunk.
Frank turned away, forcing out words he knew he'd regret.
"Call me when you're sober."
He slowly pushed Gerard away, numb, and left without another word. Gerard stared, motionless, into the infinite abyss that replaced Frank's frantically sought-after presence.
Frank stepped into the frigid air, shivering in his T-shirt and jeans. He walked home, letting the freezing temperatures numb his heart as snowflakes swirled round his head, and earlier thoughts echoed through his mind.
You only matter when he's drunk.
(A/N): Hope you enjoyed! As always please R&R, I love hearing what you guys have to say. Kudos if you know where the lyrics at the beginning are from. ;]
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