FicWad

A/N: Well, we do still have maybe one or two chapters left after this one, but I did say this story would be short. 100 Ways should be updated tomorrow.

Game Over

Gerard's heart pounded in sync with the rapid knocking at the door.

He froze for a moment, his brain going into overdrive. Yet the knocking was louder than his thoughts, and so he felt he had no choice. He leapt off his bed and opened the door.

Frank stood before him with his bag, looking eager as usual. Gerard forced himself to think quickly.

"Hey Frankie." Gerard mumbled, trying to keep his voice low and groggy sounding. "Um, I'm not feeling well today. Do you think we can postpone?"

Frank's brow raised, and Gerard got the feeling that he did not buy that excuse for one second.

"Not feeling well?" Frank questioned. "Forgive me if I'm wrong, but you seemed to be feeling great at the show tonight."

"Yeah well I guess it just suddenly hit me -- ya know?" Gerard attempted, but Frank already had his eyes narrowed into slits.

"Take off your clothes." Frank commanded.

"Why?"

"Just take them off. Now."

Frank took a step forward and pushed them both into the hotel room, allowing the door to close shut behind him. He dropped his bag onto the floor and crossed his arms.

"I'm not going to ask again, Gerard. Strip." he said.

"I don't -- " Gerard began to stammer.

"If you're clean, I'm not going to hurt you. I won't even touch you, promise." Frank told him, his tone sounding far from harmless. "We can just watch some movies or something, and postpone the session for later."

"Is that what this is about?" Gerard found some of his fight, trying to look shocked and appalled that Frank would accuse him of breaking their deal. "I thought you trusted me."

"I do. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't check if I have reason to suspect. If you have nothing to hide, I don't see why it's problem." Frank cocked his head, "You're usually so determined to prove others wrong."

Ouch. Gerard nearly winced at this comment, but he tried not to let it show.

"And what if I don't?"
"Then I am never touching you in any sort of sexual way again. I mean that." Frank answered, and Gerard's heart dropped at the mere thought of this.

"Well wouldn't our agreement end, either way?" Gerard asked in what slipped out like a frightened whisper.

"I would have been less upset, if you could have just been honest with me." Frank said almost as softly.

Gerard considered this and sighed. He plopped down on the bed and hesitantly removed his shirt.

The red stripes painted his body from his chest to his abdomen. They were both messily and heavily done, in a way that implied that Gerard had gotten a bit too carried away.

And he had. He had loved the feel of the blade cutting into his skin, missed it's wonderful sting. There was just something about it that he could not replace with sex or intimacy.

The blood that dripped from them, he had lapped away with his tongue. Gerard had nearly moaned in his state of euphoria, as he stabbed himself in every possible place. It was his own painful and wonderful form of masturbation, and he welcomed it back with open, blood covered arms.

Gerard waited for a reaction, and followed Frank's eyes. The large, green discs were focused on some of the deeper cuts, observing them with scrutiny, and dare he say... a bit of fear?

Frank stepped back finally, his expression blank, but dark. He went from staring from Gerard's abdomen to his eyes when he asked in a low whisper:

"...Why?"

Gerard refused to meet his eyes directly. He was looking in his direction, but could not look straight into his face. He sighed, wondering if he was really taking as long as he felt to answer the question.

"I haven't been feeling so good, Frankie." was his response, feeling like it was a safe explanation to go with.

"Haven't been feeling good?" Frank sounded baffled, disbelieving. "Haven't I been doing my job? Haven't you been enjoying this?!?"

"Well yes, of course I have..." Gerard bit his lip. He was afraid to continue.

"...buuuut?" Frank pushed him to continue forward, knowing that wasn't the end of his sentence.

I want more. He desperately wanted to say it. All he came out with was, "I don't know. It's complicated."

"Why can't you just talk to me then? Why resort to..." Frank hand motioned around his cuts, "...this?"

"You never have time to talk!" Gerard argued, "You're always busy, or would rather talk to Jamia!"

"Well of course I'd rather talk to Jamia!" Frank almost laughed, "She's my wife, knucklehead!"

Suddenly, Gerard looked as though Frank had slapped him in the face. Frank backed down, but Gerard was already putting on his shirt. Frank sighed.

"Gerard, come on. You know I didn't mean it like that. I have to talk to Jamia either way. She's sort of the mother of my children and all."

Gerard had no response. He had begun to get his cell phone and wallet from his dresser, ignoring Frank's explanations.

"Geeeeee." Frank whined.

Gerard continued to say nothing and began to walk towards the door. Frank lunged at him, grabbing him by the wrist.

"Where are you going?" Frank asked, his voice beginning to sound slightly panicked.

"I need some time alone." Gerard answered him curtly.

"Oh don't be like that Gee!" Frank pleaded, "Just stay with me, okay? I'll stay up with you and talk to you all night if you need me to."

"Frank, let go of me..."

Frank would not let go. In fact, he pulled Gerard even closer. But as he did, the hurt in Gerard's eyes grew clearer, and Frank suddenly felt much less dominant.

"Gerard...please..." he tried again, "...don't go."

He tried to pull Gerard closer to him again. In a swift motion, Gerard then rammed his knee into Frank's stomach. The blow hit him hard, and Frank doubled over, forced to let go of Gerard's wrist.

As Gerard walked out, Frank could faintly hear him mutter the word "Sushi." before the door slammed shut.