FicWad

To Gerard,
I know I’m probably not your favourite person right now, nor the person you most want to hear from. I’m not saying this out of self-pity, because I now know that that isn’t going to get me anywhere. If it hurt me what I did with Bert, if it hurt me when you found out…it doesn’t matter. That’s not why I’m writing this weird letter that I’ll probably never send.
Just remember that the world isn’t over yet. You’re still here and so am I, so I’m gonna do whatever it takes to make sure that you stay here happy. That’s what I’ve been trying to say to you all along. I never wanted to feel like this, although now I can accept that I do, I wouldn’t change it for anything. That’s why it’s confused me so much and taken me so long to understand – I’ve had to cross so many boundaries and test myself in so many ways before I could come to this conclusion, which is that I really care about you.
You might find that difficult to believe. Even I do, sometimes. Frank Iero, master of sex and all things physical. Condemner of any emotionally stimulating situations. I stay away from those who can read me too well or those who provoke too much emotion. But you? I didn’t have a choice. You attracted me physically first, with your stupid black slacks and your buttoned up shirts. The first thought I had about you was that it’d be so much fun undoing all of those buttons with my teeth, especially when I got to what was underneath them. So when your smile started attracting me too, I thought we were definitely on for a hot night of sex or whatever. Something like that, anyway. So when I was working with you every day, when I saw you every day like I hadn’t with anybody else, I didn’t think that our clashing personalities were a problem, because I don’t judge people by personality…usually. Then your quirky taste and your stupid innocence and your secret cleverness started getting to me and I realised that we weren’t so different after all. It tugged on my sleeves and my heart. I started liking you in a way that I hadn’t liked anybody for a long time: it was more than the shape or your ass or the curve of your lips. That first time that I came to your house it was just for your physical touch, but I left with a feeling I hadn’t bargained for. A certain feeling towards you, that teenage girls get when they’re crushing on guys. That feeling. Doesn’t this explain why I didn’t give up on you straight away? Most of the time when somebody declines me, I just fuck right off and find somebody else, but with you I was persistent. I know I’m not being graceful about this, but I’m being truthful.
Anyway, if I’m going to say it all, I need to get on with it. Whilst everything was happening with your fiancée, the thing I wanted most of all was to pull you into my arms and promise you that everything would work out. I wanted to comfort you and console you. But my pride has always come before anything like that, so I felt indignantly that this should still be the case, that you were no exception. I crossed this line a few times with you, took you into my embrace… and when I did I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I loved having you in my arms but it wasn’t what people expected of me at all. I felt like the weaker one, for once. Or maybe I didn’t…maybe I just felt equal. Night after night I fell asleep crying because I simply didn’t understand what I was supposed to do. When I saw you crying, and I knew that you were too weak to save it until you were alone, I knew that I had to help you, but my own strength made me feel simply annoyed that you weren’t able to hold it in too. But it’s not like I don’t know how you feel. I know it better than I even know myself.
So it’s my fault that you haven’t been able to trust me that easily, not just yours. I’ve been a jackass and I know that I’ve made plenty of mistakes. I haven’t told you how I feel about you, not once, because I’m a) so terrified of your reaction and b) so scared for myself. Even as I’m writing this I want to rub it all out or scrunch it up and burn it because nobody should know this about me; nobody should know these life-changing secrets. But I don’t want what I did with Bert to be a cause for me to lose you. You’re the closest thing I’ve had to real, Gerard.
So I want you back. I want you forever. There, I fucking said it, I did it. Shit, I don’t know what I’ll do if this letter means nothing to you. Or even if you just laugh. I’ll probably curl up and die, so please don’t react like that. Even if you never want to have sex with me, I’ll still…oh wait, actually, that might be a small relationship flaw, so if you do decide to become permanently celibate, please warn me in advance?
You were allowed to laugh at that point.
As for what I did with Bert, I know nothing I can say can make it better. You don’t have to forgive me or let me off or any of that crap. He fucked me because he’s so unbearably jealous of you, and because I’ve teased him about it so many times before. I was drunk, and he didn’t ask my permission… I hope you believe that, but I know that shouldn’t be an excuse. Besides, he wasn’t even a good lay. You’re probably better. Well, your cock is bigger. I know that much. If you’re reading this you’re probably pulling that funny disgusted face that you do when there’s too much detail. “Explicit content, Frank!” See, you’re even making me laugh now and you’re not here. Crazy.
If you’re not ever ready to be with me again, I’ll understand. Well, I won’t, but I’ll accept it. Right now, I’m trying my hardest to become the right person for you, because no matter how much you doubt yourself, Gee, I know that you’re worth it. We can go to gigs together and have romantic picnics together and suck on different ends of spaghetti until we kiss in the middle. We can do all of that gay shit that people do and we can fucking love it, if you want to, because that’s what I want. I’m gonna admit that to you now. I just want to be with you.
Please.
Love from Frank xo
Frank slammed his hand down on the desk and the pen went flying. His head dropped into his hands as he debated over whether or not sending this was actually a good idea. It was the truest thing he’d ever written, tearstained and sealed with a kiss. He was kinda embarrassed by what he’d ended up writing, because it was colourful to say the least…’well, your cock is bigger.´ What kind of pathetic love letter is that?
Not that he intended this to be a love letter…he hadn’t proclaimed love or anything. Just want. Just care. He wasn’t sure that he knew what love was.
The only thing that he could do now was either wait for himself to muster up the courage to send it or to never send it at all. It was around nine pm now, and he was sure he could get away with dropping it through Gerard’s letter box at some point before the sun came up, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to move just yet.
First, he had to get his phone back from that stupid son of a bitch, Bert.
He pulled on his jacket – Gerard’s jacket, actually – and hurried out of his house, lighting up a cigarette on the way to try and relax himself. He’d shoved the letter in his pocket, and he felt that the slightly crumpled aesthetics would only give it a more authentic feel. He just hoped Gerard would see it in the same light. He wished that he could draw him a picture in return, but he was relatively shit at drawing and besides, he couldn’t just copy what Gerard had done. It wouldn’t show imagination or portray half of the words he wanted it to. They say that a picture says a thousand words, but his letter was one thousand, one hundred and twenty-six words long, so that wouldn’t work so well in his case.
He pressed the button for Bert’s flat and a gargled ‘come in’ was the reply. Throwing a scathing look at the car park in which it all went so horribly wrong, Frank made his way upstairs to Bert’s door where he knocked impatiently. He didn’t even look Bert in the eyes when he answered. The thin socks, the scruffy, dirty jeans, the stained shirt and the rags that he called his hair. They were enough. He’s in such a bad place, Frank thought. He couldn’t bring himself to cause unnecessary anger and bitterness in Bert’s life where there seemed to be so much already.
“Can I have my phone?” he asked quietly, hands in his pockets.
“Dammmn.” Bert smirked. “Gerard gone off you now, has he?”
“Shut up, please.” He said. “I just want my phone.”
Bert pulled the phone from his pocket and pressed it into Frank’s hand. “It was good sex though, right? You seemed to enjoy it.” Frank just rolled his eyes, neither denying nor approving the statement. It wasn’t bad, to be entirely honest. Granted, it wasn’t the best either: it was cheap, dirty and unwanted. It was how Frank always used to like it.
In that moment, he saw himself in Bert. He saw the ruthless, unhygienic tease he’d been before. He’d been the one who’d done that to other guys before. He’d forced them to cheat on people, he’d treated them like an object. He wanted so much to thank Gerard for changing that for him.
He slammed the door without a word of thanks and ran outside, where he leant against the roof of someone’s car and got out the letter and a red pen. It didn’t fit the already black writing but he really couldn’t care less…he needed to add something.
P.S, I’ve just realised how much I owe you. I went to get my phone from Bert – no more secrets – and I saw in him what you saw when you first met me. I’ve done what he did to me. I used to get people drunk, I used to sleep with them and then I’d drop them for some other twat. That’s what I tried to do to you that first time I took you out. I’m disgusted at myself and it’s you who’s started to change me. I fucking love you for that, Gerard. I love you for it.
P.P.S...I'm not even joking.
He shoved the letter into his pocket again and started to walk to Gerard’s. He should’ve taken the bus or something, even cycled… anything but walked. The miserable, pounding rain beat him relentlessly for his wrongdoings and as it pelted down on him, he felt that this was what the past few years of his life had really been building up to. This one walk, this path he had to take alone. He just hoped the rain wasn’t causing the ink to run. In a fit of panic he shoved the letter under his jacket and his shirt where it remained, pressed against his chest and his heartbeat, warm and safe. Where he wanted Gerard to be.
His feet were aching and he was on the verge of giving up, collapsing there and then in the street. The only thing that kept him going was the fact that a) he could smell food and b) if he let himself fall, the letter would be ruined, or maybe somebody else would find it and take it and all the words would be lost. What if someone who wasn’t Gerard read it? What if someone else learned everything? He could hardly bear thinking about it.
He rounded the corner and could see Gerard’s house in the distance. He’d made it. He became hyperaware of the letter scratching against his chest and wondered if the ink had stained his skin. His own breathing filled his ears and he didn’t know if he could do this anymore…everything that he’d built up for himself he was revealing to one man, and that man had a stupid fucking comic collection and loads of band shirts and the whole of Buffy on DVD. That man was exactly who he wanted. Come on, Frank. He urged himself silently. Don’t give up now.
Knees shaking from nerves in that odd way that they so often do, Frank walked up his driveway, feet crunching on the gravel causing him to cringe every time. Gerard had probably heard him and looked out the window by now. He was about to pull the letter out from under his shirt when the door clicked open and light flooded out, as well as Gerard’s face. Was he smiling or crying? Frank squinted, but he couldn’t work it out.
“Hi.” He practically whimpered.
“Hey.” Gerard whispered in response. He turned and walked down the hall, Frank slowly following him inside. He noticed with a jolt that all his belongings were in a painstakingly neat pile by the door. Shit. He started to panic. This is really over, isn’t it?

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Wow I'm writing like a crazyperson today. Third chapter in 24 hours. I guess I'm trying to make up for the many months I neglected it...enjoy :3