FicWad

Chapter 2: To live is to die in her eyes.

Frank hadn't wanted to speak to him.

He'd refused, more than once, with very British, very violent input and suggestions from his slightly-mental and overly-aggressive best friend. But the boy just didn't give up, didn't leave! He was relentless and ruthless; he didn't stop, didn't want to stop, and he wouldn't stop.

The three had sat under the tree for about half-an-hour before Violet received a text from her 'Mother' telling her to get home because of some sort of 'big news' and after telling Frank she'd let him know the 'big news' in the morning, Frank had begrudgingly agreed.

And that left him and Gerard. So, when Frank got up and left, powering through the rain, hood shadowing his head, Gerard had followed. And not just that...

He had reminded and tormented Frank about the past events. He had mocked and mimicked Frank, sashaying and swaying up ahead of the short 16-year-old, making the boy fear for his heart.

Sure, Gerard was a dick. But goddamn, Frank would be going to Hell if he lied about him being the sexiest thing since sliced bread.

"Remember when I got with your girlfriend?" Gerard snorted, tossing his hair from his face and making Frank's heart swoon worryingly. "Years ago? What were we, 14?"

Frank tried to calm himself, his teeth grinding in hatred towards the attractive male. "Yes," he growled lowly. "And thanks fucking for reminding me!"

Gerard smirked a heart-breaking smile and ruffled the shorter boys hair, stopping momentarily before walking in time with Frank, side by side. "Sorry, Tippy, sorry."

Frank's face reddened in anger, eyebrows knotted into a tight, fierce scowl. "Tippy was the name of your dog!" he snapped.

Gerard laughed and nodded. "That it was. You look a bit like him."

Before Frank knew what was happening, Gerard had grabbed Frank's shoulders and spun his body to face him, holding the shorter boy in place. The two stood in the lashing rain, getting socked through but not really caring, as Gerard inspected him.

Scrutinizing, hazel eyes squinted down at Frank; a bright, twinkling hazel, laughter evident in the captivating colour. The pale skin around Gerard's eyes creased slightly, brows pressing down adorably, mouth pinning up into a coy smile.

"Yes," he grinned. "You really do. You look like a small," Gerard's smile widened here, "rugged," wider yet again, "dirty," it widened even further, "little dog."

Their noses pressed together, Gerard' breath hot on Frank's face, whom appeared not to be breathing.

Though Frank had been enticed by Gerard, his insult still stabbed through him, blunt and slowly like a butter knife.

So, the boy shook off Gerard and marched on towards his house, greeted with calls of 'Frank!' chasing after him.

"Fuck off! he shouted venomously behind him, skulking into the wind and rain, shoulders tense as he glared at nothing, embarrassed, humiliated and hurt.

"Oh, you stupid fucking tiag!" Gerard growled.

Frank stopped in his tracks, sensing the older boy smirk and stop just behind him.

The shorter boy was in a predicament; he could see his front door, the savior and salvation in this story, but he also knew that calling someone a tiag was, perhaps, the worst thing you could call someone.

A guy finds our your Uncle was Irish and you're a Catholic - maybe not a good one, but still a Catholic - and thinks he can call you that?! No one can call anyone that. Frank knew that, everyone knew that.

It was a repulsive word.

"What?! Frank murmured, voice scratchy and strained, fists clenched at his sides.

Gerard folded his arms over his chest and grinned, the scraggy leather constricting him slightly. "You heard," he laughed. "Fucking eejit."

"Fucking STOP IT," Frank snapped, whizzing around and marching up to Gerard. "Just stop it! You're a worthless piece of scrawny shit who fools himself that everyone likes him, and makes other feel bad to make up for his own self-fucking-hate! So just shut the fuck up and go the fuck away."

Gerard's smirking face dropped at the boys proclamation. "I see," he mumbled, looking so vulnerable and innocent that Frank wanted to hug him better and tell him that he didn't mean it. "You're right, of course you're right.." Gerard mumbled.

Frank was stood a foot away from the boy, so when Gerard stepped forward and shook his head, leaning down, Frank almost thought he went into a hug.

But he didn't.

"Oh wait," he laughed. "Maybe not, because you know what, you scummy little midget?"

Silence.

Rain slashed down on the pair, faces brushing each other's as Gerard whispered tantalizingly in the ear of the other.

"People actually do like me. But I don't hear that about you..

I hear that you're a friendless emo freak who sits by himself everyday, scowling at himself, hating himself, sitting in corners, getting beaten up and mocked.. So, Sugar, don't tell me to deal with my problems before you've dealt with your's."

Gerard stood up, back straight, grinning sardonically.

"Bye Sugar," he sniggered. "Have a nice day."

Then, slapping Frank on the ass, Gerard walked into his house, calling after him, "Also, there's rumors that your Mum's a prostitute so you might wanna fix that, because I actually like Levina."

And, with the slam of the door and a little laugh, Gerard left Frank standing alone in the rain, hating and hating and hating, wishing and wishing and wishing, and wanting and wanting and wanting.

And Frank, no matter how bad it seemed, definitely wanted more of Gerard, whether he liked it or not.

I really hate this chapter but I wrote it about five times and decided, because I've made you wait so long, that I'd deal with it. But I hope you like it.

Could you give me some opinions on Gerard's character? Is he too.. well, yo'know?

Thanks guys! xx