Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Bones
Gerard stood naked on the scales in his bathroom and peered down at the numbers. He was alone; Bert hadn't blessed him with his presence just yet. Gerard mentally counted the number of pounds he'd lost since he'd started his special diet and smiled slightly. It was a lot, but not enough. Never enough.
Smooth fingers ghosted down his spine, causing him to involuntarily shudder. A hand swept round his torso and smoothed over his protruding ribs and he knew Bert was assessing his progress.
"Baby," Bert rasped, his voice hoarse from the cigarettes he was smoking on his way over, "You've got 206 bones and I want to see them all,"
Gerard nodded frantically, now he knew his goal he could try harder to work for it. Gerard tangled his long, artistic fingers with Bert's fat ones and settled back against his chest. He loved moments like these, the short minutes when Bert would allow him to feed off the smallest of affections. The moment was quickly ruined though by his boyfriend teasing a finger over Gerard's puckered entrance. Gerard swallowed the fruitless protests that were on the tip of his tongue and turned in Bert's arms, submitting himself fully.
*
Today was the day. Today Bert was going to show Gerard off to his friends. Said boy stood in front of his full length mirror staring at his boxer clad reflection. Before Bert had left the night before, he'd given Gerard his own set of the jock uniform and strict orders to wear no makeup. The uniform was splayed on his unmade bed, taunting him. He wanted to make a good impression and make Bert happy, but he felt like once he put the full uniform on, he'd have let his friends and everything they believed in down.
He thought about Mikey. The way Mikey looked at him with disappointment in his eyes the first time he'd worn the baseball jacket. And how Ray had raised an eyebrow and told him straight out that he'd looked ridiculous.
Then he thought about Frankie and all the times they'd snickered at the stupid outfits the jocks wore, and how they had told each other that they'd rather die than be seen in them. Then the hurt and sadness that filled his eyes every time he wore any thing remotely related to sports.
With a heavy sigh, Gerard turned and reluctantly started pulling on the baggy jeans laid out for him.
Gerard held Bert's hand tighter as they walked past his friends in the hallway. Their laughter and chatter stopped and he knew they were staring at him, but he willed himself not to look. Gerard focused his gaze straight ahead and kept his face emotionless, subconsciously moving closer to his boyfriend only to be discretely nudged back into place.
After what seemed a life time, the pair found Bert's group of six friends, two of which had girls with too much makeup and overly short skirts clinging to their steroid induced biceps. The jocks shouted and waved when they spot the couple, moving closer together to make room in the cluster. Gerard was greeted like he's been their friend for a lifetime, and it made him slightly uncomfortable that the people he and his friends once despised could be so welcoming. Gerard stayed out of the conversation for the most part, only answering when he was spoken to directly or when Bert gave him a sharp nudge in the side.
"so, Gerard," the tallest one – Quinn, he reminded himself – turned to him, a smirk gracing his soft features, " since you're with Bert, I'm guessing you'll be at my party Friday night?"
Gerard's stomach turned at the thought of a party. He hated them. The last time he attended one of Mikey's friends' parties he got so shitfaced he passed out on his neighbour's cat on their front lawn and had to have six stitches on his face because of it.
Bert prodded him in the hip again and he twisted his face into a tight smile and nodded, mumbling out a quiet 'of course'
*
Frank left his friends early at lunch time to head to his locker which was on the other side of campus from his next lesson. He turned a corner but spotted Bert and three of his friends in the middle of the corridor and hid behind the lockers.
"He has a pretty mouth" one of them said.
"That he does," Bert replied, looking around to see if anyone might overhear.
"You think he'll do it?" the second friend asked.
"He won't do it sober, so we'll have to get him drunk and possibly high at the party then he might get down on his knees for you. It will come as a price though; no-one touches my property without paying,"
Frank gasped quietly; Bert was trying to prostitute his best friend. He didn't hear the rest of the conversation as he was already speed walking away, completely forgetting to visit his locker.
It was afterschool by the time Frank had time to talk to Gerard; he was stood outside the art block with a cigarette balanced between his thin lips. Frank lit up his own and stood silently beside the taller man, staring out across the parking lot.
"If you're here to laugh at me about my outfit, I don't want to hear it," Gerard mumbled around the cancer stick.
"Actually, it's about that party you're going to," Frank took a drag of his cigarette, holding it in his lungs until they burned before slowly letting it out.
"How- what about it?" Gerard asked sceptically, peering at Frank out of the corner of his eye.
"I don't think you should go Gee, it's not safe,"
"Bullshit Frank, Bert will be there to protect me," Gerard said in the 'my-mind-is-all-ready-made-up-and-you-cant-change-that' voice.
Frank just sighed heavily and replied "Fine, just don't take the drugs or drink too much, they'll take advantage of you. Trust me". Frank toed his spent cigarette out on the concrete and walked away.
Smooth fingers ghosted down his spine, causing him to involuntarily shudder. A hand swept round his torso and smoothed over his protruding ribs and he knew Bert was assessing his progress.
"Baby," Bert rasped, his voice hoarse from the cigarettes he was smoking on his way over, "You've got 206 bones and I want to see them all,"
Gerard nodded frantically, now he knew his goal he could try harder to work for it. Gerard tangled his long, artistic fingers with Bert's fat ones and settled back against his chest. He loved moments like these, the short minutes when Bert would allow him to feed off the smallest of affections. The moment was quickly ruined though by his boyfriend teasing a finger over Gerard's puckered entrance. Gerard swallowed the fruitless protests that were on the tip of his tongue and turned in Bert's arms, submitting himself fully.
*
Today was the day. Today Bert was going to show Gerard off to his friends. Said boy stood in front of his full length mirror staring at his boxer clad reflection. Before Bert had left the night before, he'd given Gerard his own set of the jock uniform and strict orders to wear no makeup. The uniform was splayed on his unmade bed, taunting him. He wanted to make a good impression and make Bert happy, but he felt like once he put the full uniform on, he'd have let his friends and everything they believed in down.
He thought about Mikey. The way Mikey looked at him with disappointment in his eyes the first time he'd worn the baseball jacket. And how Ray had raised an eyebrow and told him straight out that he'd looked ridiculous.
Then he thought about Frankie and all the times they'd snickered at the stupid outfits the jocks wore, and how they had told each other that they'd rather die than be seen in them. Then the hurt and sadness that filled his eyes every time he wore any thing remotely related to sports.
With a heavy sigh, Gerard turned and reluctantly started pulling on the baggy jeans laid out for him.
Gerard held Bert's hand tighter as they walked past his friends in the hallway. Their laughter and chatter stopped and he knew they were staring at him, but he willed himself not to look. Gerard focused his gaze straight ahead and kept his face emotionless, subconsciously moving closer to his boyfriend only to be discretely nudged back into place.
After what seemed a life time, the pair found Bert's group of six friends, two of which had girls with too much makeup and overly short skirts clinging to their steroid induced biceps. The jocks shouted and waved when they spot the couple, moving closer together to make room in the cluster. Gerard was greeted like he's been their friend for a lifetime, and it made him slightly uncomfortable that the people he and his friends once despised could be so welcoming. Gerard stayed out of the conversation for the most part, only answering when he was spoken to directly or when Bert gave him a sharp nudge in the side.
"so, Gerard," the tallest one – Quinn, he reminded himself – turned to him, a smirk gracing his soft features, " since you're with Bert, I'm guessing you'll be at my party Friday night?"
Gerard's stomach turned at the thought of a party. He hated them. The last time he attended one of Mikey's friends' parties he got so shitfaced he passed out on his neighbour's cat on their front lawn and had to have six stitches on his face because of it.
Bert prodded him in the hip again and he twisted his face into a tight smile and nodded, mumbling out a quiet 'of course'
*
Frank left his friends early at lunch time to head to his locker which was on the other side of campus from his next lesson. He turned a corner but spotted Bert and three of his friends in the middle of the corridor and hid behind the lockers.
"He has a pretty mouth" one of them said.
"That he does," Bert replied, looking around to see if anyone might overhear.
"You think he'll do it?" the second friend asked.
"He won't do it sober, so we'll have to get him drunk and possibly high at the party then he might get down on his knees for you. It will come as a price though; no-one touches my property without paying,"
Frank gasped quietly; Bert was trying to prostitute his best friend. He didn't hear the rest of the conversation as he was already speed walking away, completely forgetting to visit his locker.
It was afterschool by the time Frank had time to talk to Gerard; he was stood outside the art block with a cigarette balanced between his thin lips. Frank lit up his own and stood silently beside the taller man, staring out across the parking lot.
"If you're here to laugh at me about my outfit, I don't want to hear it," Gerard mumbled around the cancer stick.
"Actually, it's about that party you're going to," Frank took a drag of his cigarette, holding it in his lungs until they burned before slowly letting it out.
"How- what about it?" Gerard asked sceptically, peering at Frank out of the corner of his eye.
"I don't think you should go Gee, it's not safe,"
"Bullshit Frank, Bert will be there to protect me," Gerard said in the 'my-mind-is-all-ready-made-up-and-you-cant-change-that' voice.
Frank just sighed heavily and replied "Fine, just don't take the drugs or drink too much, they'll take advantage of you. Trust me". Frank toed his spent cigarette out on the concrete and walked away.
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