FicWad

Gerard`s pov
“What do you want?” I sigh, allowing my tired, teary eyes to briefly look up at the perfect tattooed boy, before bitterly returning my attention to the cracked littered ground.
Frank stutters, something that was even cuter than rainbows and puppies put together, and glances down at his ratty old looking converse, his cheeks turning an extremely pretty shade of pale pink.
“I-I don`t really know what I want Gerard.” He admits in a small confused and hurt voice.
It had been so very long since I had heard his say my name, it felt like centuries. As I glare down at the litter covered, cracked concrete ground, the rusted swing chains creaking as I shuffle my tired, aching feet, I briefly wonder if it felt as weird for him to say it as it did for me to hear. It felt alien to hear him say my name again, just to hear his voice, which was empty and bleak now, lacking the usual Frankie cheer that had always managed to brighten my day.
Frank stands there awkwardly, shuffling his feet, unsure of what to say to break the uncomfortable silence, just like I was. What did you say to your ex best friend that you had a pathetic, disgusting little crush on who you had been ignoring for months? It never used to be like this between us. When the two of us had been best friends there were barely any times when we would be silent, we always had something to say to each other, even if it was just about boring old school work. And on those extremely rare occasions when we did have nothing to say, the quiet would never be uncomfortable or tense. It was relaxed, easy because we were so close and trusting of each other; we were able to communicate without words we were that used to each other. And in my pathetic, needy case, depended on each other.
“Look,” I sigh, getting slowly off of the rust old swing set, trying to ignore all of the happy long ago memories of first meeting the black and blonde haired boy here all those years ago.
“If you don`t want anything…” I trail off, slinging my scruffy, black and grey backpack over one shoulder, preparing to leave.
“N-no! I-I…” Frank sighs, ducking his head even lower, trying to shy away and hide his beautiful face behind his scruffy dyed fringe.
“Whatever.” he says in a defeated voice. “Just go. Just fucking leave.” He shrugs, trying to appear unaffected and unconcerned, even plastering on a very fake looking smile onto his handsome young face.
“You don`t care anyways. You don`t care about anything or anyone.” Frank continues, edging closer to me, raising his voice slightly with each step so that he was yelling the words at me. With each new hate filled, disgusted word spewing out of his mouth I realise with a sickening, disgusted feeling in my gut just what I had become. A jerk, a big fat gothic jerk that pushed anyone who was stupid enough to care about him away. I pushed away my family, m friends everyone.
“You don`t care about school, or Mikey or your friends…o-or…or anything!” he spits angrily, and I realise with a sharp stabbing wave of guilt that the beautiful boy was blinking back tears.
“Y-You don`t care about me.” He cries, and ashamed he roughly wipes the salty drops from his intelligent chocolate eyes.
How could he say that, how could Frank say that I didn`t care about him. I did, I cared too much. Way too fucking much. I cared about Frank Iero, the perfect, kind intelligent, angelic boy so much that it physically hurt me to be away from him. It hurt to be near him too. It hurt so bad because he was everything I had ever wanted, everything I had ever needed, and yet I could never have him.
Never.
The shorter boy sniffs once before angrily wiping away more tears that had dared to escape his eyes.
“What did I do Gerard, what did I do wrong?!” He demands, scrunching up his face in pain and anger, more tears, of pain and hurt slipping down his pale cheeks.
“What made you hate me?” He questions softly, lifting up his head to look me right in the eye, chocolate meeting hazel.
Shocked and full of self hatred I see the emotions that the angelic boy was desperately trying to hide in them, behind the tears and anger.
Pain…confusion…hurt…sadness…
Gone was the ever present cheeky gleam in his bright eyes that I had come to love. It was gone. I hadn’t realised it before but I could now see how broken the other boy really was. He was like me, so lost and lonely.
Was it possible that maybe, just maybe Frank was missing me almost as much as I was missing him?
“Why do you hate me Gee?” He sobs, clothing his pale, trembling hands to his chest, his tearstained and puffy eyes wide and pleading with me.
I sigh deeply and slowly shake my head, long tangled raven locks falling forwards to hide my face. Gee? He had used my old nickname. I don’t know whether to be happy or saddened.
“I don`t hate You Frankie.” I answer softy, tears forming in my own eyes as I hesitantly reach over to gently wipe away his.
“I could never hate you.” I shake my head, and he blinks once, confused. “Never.”
I repeat again, unable to hold back any longer, the feeling of being so close to him after being apart for so long taking its toll on me. I lean forward, only half away of what I was doing and press my chapped, wind bitten lips against his, savouring the taste of coffee, cigarettes and just plain Frank Iero.