Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Whirlwind
Author's note; Hey guys! I'm here with my very first multi-chaptered MCR fic, which I'm super excited about. The sex warning and rated R stuff won't come until later, but I thought I'd put it as it now instead of changing it later. Warnings may change as well. Probably not, but keep an eye on it. ;)
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Stretched out on the sofa, inane programme playing on the TV, the evening seemed to be shaping up like any other for the dark haired teen. Once again, there was a killer party going on, one which was supposed to end all killer parties which had preceded it and once again, Frank hadn’t been invited. Not that he cared. He didn’t want to be invited. He was pretty damn chilled lying on his sofa, thank you very much.
It wasn’t even that Frank was particularly unpopular. He just wasn’t popular. There was a subtle yet noticeable difference between the two. Just because you didn’t get invited to all the ‘cool’ parties with all the ‘cool’ kids didn’t instantly mean that you had apple cores thrown at you in the corridor and ended up being jumped every time you went to the toilet. Sometimes, you just floated along not really being noticed at all.
Frank was one of those kids and he liked it that way.
Well, most of the time.
Right now, no matter how interested he pretended to be in on whatever it was playing on the TV, he was kind of bored. No, wait, make that really bored. Sighing, he rolled onto his stomach, sticking his arms out in front of him and stretching his back. A quick glance at the clock told him it was one in the morning. If he wanted to, he could just go to bed. That was the thing though; he didn’t want to sleep. Sleeping was boring. He wanted to stay up and do something productive. His parents were away for the weekend, giving him some much needed time to himself and he didn’t intend to waste that time sleeping. No, he would do something productive.
He physically rolled off the sofa, landing on his knees, before crawling across the room over to his guitar. Playing guitar was his passion in life and one of the few productive things he could do at one in the morning. Sitting on the floor, back leaning against the armchair his guitar had been resting on, he pulled the instrument into his lap and began plucking the strings. Soft notes filtered around the room as his fingers worked deftly across it, practising a new song he’d been working on.
A loud bang outside had his fingers halting their movements and his gaze snapping towards the window.
Oh god, he was going to be burgled! He was going to be burgled when he was sitting in the damn lounge. This was it. This was how it ended for him. Frank Iero, killed by a rogue burglar. He needed a weapon. Something to defend himself with. A quick search of the room caused him to question his parents’ sanity. What sort of sensible person didn’t leave their sixteen year old son with a single thing to defend himself with when they left him for a whole weekend?!
At what he heard next though, his heart lessened the frantic pace it was beating at and he arched an eyebrow. Was that moaning?! Oh god, it was worse than he thought. Some delinquents were having sex in his driveway! How incredibly rude and disturbing. Then, there was laughter. What kind of freak laughed during sex? Of course, all things sexual weren’t exactly Frank’s strong point, but he was certain he knew enough to know that laughing in the face of someone you were getting it on with really wasn’t the way to go. He highly doubted that it was beneficial if you wanted to ever get some from that person ever again. Perhaps laughter was the socially acceptable way of saying “No offense, but you’re crap at this.”
Obviously Frank had a wish to become mentally scarred for life, because he found himself creeping across the room towards the window and peeling back the curtain, peering out into the darkness to see what was going on. Squinting slightly, he could just about make out the shape of someone sprawled across the path outside his house, though they didn’t appear to be with anyone else. Quite the opposite in fact. Instead, it seemed that they were very much alone. There was something slightly off about it though. Normal people didn’t just lie in the middle of the street at gone one in the morning.
Briefly weighing up the pros and cons of going out to investigate, the sixteen year old was opening the front door a moment later. Standing in the doorway, he called out to the anonymous figure. “Mate? Are you alright down there?” When the only response he got was laughter, he decided that it was probably safe enough to proceed a little closer. Making sure to leave the door open, in case the person turned out to be a homicidal maniac and he had to run back inside for safety, he made his way down the path. Holy shit, the concrete was cold. Shoes would have probably been a good idea though it was too late for that now.
Eventually coming to a stop near the figure, he looked down at their face, realising with a start that it was someone he knew. Well, knew of. He was looking down into the incredibly drunken face of Gerard someone or another. He was one of those ‘cool’ kids, two years above him in school if he remembered correctly. What he was doing outside his house though, he had no idea.
“What are you doing on the floor?” Frank asked simply, not really knowing what else to say.
The drunken teen rolled onto his back, laughing elatedly as he gestured towards a nearby lamppost. “The lamppost. It pushed me.”
Oh jeez. He really was wasted. “So, you walked into the lamppost and then fell over?”
An angry pout formed on Gerard’s lips as his hand came up to clumsily rub at his eyes, smudging the already smudged eyeliner further. The boy was a complete mess. “No! The lamppost pushed me!”
Slightly taken aback by the sudden anger the older boy spoke with, Frank simply nodded. “Okay then, the lamppost pushed you. Are you gonna get up, because you can’t stay there all night?” And more to the point, his feet were really freaking cold by now.
“Mmmkay. I’ll get up. I just...just need to...” Gerard attempted to scramble to his feet, only to trip and fall straight back down again. “The air pushed me overrrrrrrr,” he whined, once again laying flat on his back.
This was ridiculous. It was time for evasive action. Leaning down, Frank took hold of one of Gerard’s hands and tugged him forwards. “C’mon. Get up. I could quite easily leave you out here to freeze, but y’know, I’m a nice guy so I won’t.” Plus, if the temperature of Gerard’s hand was anything to go by, then he really was pretty close to freezing. Frank wasn’t sure where exactly the party he presumed Gerard had come from was, but he hadn’t been able to hear loud music and rowdy teenagers, so he guessed it was a little way away. Wherever it was, Gerard had obviously walked from there – somehow he doubted ‘cool’ people gave their friends a lift half way home and then pushed them out on the side of the road. Unless Gerard had thrown up in their car. Oh god, he was going to get puked on.
Getting the older teen to his feet was a sight more difficult that he thought it was, seeing as Gerard seemed intent on not helping in the slightest. Instead, whenever Frank attempted to pull him to his feet, he just spun on his backside, laughing. Eventually, Frank got fed up. “Oi, jackass,” he snapped, nudging Gerard’s thigh with his foot. “Seriously, get up or I’ll leave you here.”
Dark, somewhat hazy eyes stared up at him, blinking as though trying to figure out whether he was serious or not. Apparently, whatever Gerard saw showed him that this really was not the time to continue messing around so, with a ridiculously heavy sigh, he once again attempted to get to his feet. This time though he actually managed it, only to fall into Frank as soon as he’d stood up.
Stumbling backwards some, Frank wrapped a cautious arm over Gerard’s shoulder, making a mental note never to get drunk. Ever. Ending up like this, unable to stand up under his own command, was definitely something he could do without. “Walk that way,” he said simply, pointing towards his front door, stood ajar and beckoning them both inside. Shifting slightly so that Gerard was leaning on him, the pair made their way down the path, the older of the two laughing hysterically as they went as though there was something incredibly amusing about the whole thing.
There wasn’t. There really wasn’t.
Kicking the door shut behind him, the pair made a slight detour into the lounge. Releasing his hold on Gerard, Frank watched as he literally flopped onto the sofa, face-planting the cushion in the process. Oh, he was going to feel good in the morning. “Gerard,” he began, rolling his eyes when all he got was a moan in response – the older didn’t even care how he knew his name. Was probably so used to everyone knowing him that it didn’t bother him anymore. How delightful. “Gerard, sit up.” Not even a moan this time. “I’m going to get you some water. When I get back, I want you sat up or I’m gonna kick you out of my house so damn fast.”
Lies. All lies. He wasn’t that mean, though he kept that to himself as he walked out of the lounge, returning a moment later with a big glass of cold water, complete with straw. Somehow he thought that if Gerard tried to drink out of it, like, you know, a normal person would, more of it would end up on his sofa that it would in the other boy’s mouth. He allowed to a small smile to curve to his lips when he saw that Gerard had managed to sit up, even if he had then slumped against the sofa, looking like a drunken fool. Which, to be honest, he was.
“Drink this. It might help to sober you up,” though he was certain it would take more than a glass of water to sober up this particular person. Handing the glass to Gerard, he took to figuring out what to do with him. He could hardly send him back out onto the streets, could he? The guy couldn’t even walk, let alone navigate his way back home. Ordering him a taxi was out as well, seeing as the only money Frank had on him was for food and dammit, he needed that money. “Have you got any money on you?”
“Noooope, spent it all.”
That caused Frank to frown slightly. What would he have spent money on if he’d been at a party? Unless he’d been sent out on a shopping trip to buy more drinks? Yeah, that seemed plausible. “Well, looks like you’re gonna have to sleep here tonight, then. You can’t get yourself home and I’m sure as hell not walking you there.” Because it was far too cold for that. “My parents are away for the weekend, so I’ll grab you their duvet and pillows. Just...don’t throw up on them? Okay?”
Shaking his head, spilling a little water in the process, Gerard grinned. “Won’t. Promise. I’ll be good.”
If only being good prevented projectile vomiting. “’Kay, just stay here then.” Not that he was in a state to be going anywhere. Once again leaving the room, this time Frank ran up the stairs into his parents’ room, grabbing a couple of pillows and the duvet and running back downstairs. Perhaps a bowl would be a good idea as well, just in case the copious amounts of alcohol Gerard had obviously consumed decided to make a reappearance. It was certainly a possibility. Hands very much full, he made his way back into the lounge, dropping everything on the floor in a pile. “Right, I got you a couple of pillows,” picking them up, he propped them at one end of the sofa, “and a duvet.” He pushed the blanket in Gerard’s general direction. The other might be drunk, but he could tuck himself in to bed. Or rather, the sofa. “I also got you this,” he said, gesturing towards the bowl which he nudged closer to the sofa. “So if you do decide to throw up, do it in that.”
Frowning, as though concentrating very hard on something, Gerard nodded slowly. “’Kaaaaay, thanks.”
Frank smiled a little, still somewhat shocked about the fact that he currently had one of the most popular guys in school, drunk on his sofa, wrapped up in his parents’ duvet. “I’m gonna head to bed now, so if you need me, just walk into each room until you find me. G’night.” Turning to leave the room for the final time, he stopped in the doorway when he heard Gerard speak.
“Kid, wait. What’s...what’s your name?”
“Frank.”
Eyes falling shut, an almost content smile on his face, Gerard placed the glass of water on the floor and snuggled down into the duvet, flicking his feet up to rest on the sofa. “Night, Frank,” he muttered, apparently already half asleep.
Nodding once despite the fact that Gerard didn’t see the action, Frank began to climb the stairs to get to his room. What was that he was saying about being bored? Yeah, bored was good. Bored was normal and the last thing the events which had just unfolded were was normal.
Well, one good thing would come out of this. No matter how weird the past few minutes had been, he’d feel a sight better about them in the morning than Gerard would.
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Stretched out on the sofa, inane programme playing on the TV, the evening seemed to be shaping up like any other for the dark haired teen. Once again, there was a killer party going on, one which was supposed to end all killer parties which had preceded it and once again, Frank hadn’t been invited. Not that he cared. He didn’t want to be invited. He was pretty damn chilled lying on his sofa, thank you very much.
It wasn’t even that Frank was particularly unpopular. He just wasn’t popular. There was a subtle yet noticeable difference between the two. Just because you didn’t get invited to all the ‘cool’ parties with all the ‘cool’ kids didn’t instantly mean that you had apple cores thrown at you in the corridor and ended up being jumped every time you went to the toilet. Sometimes, you just floated along not really being noticed at all.
Frank was one of those kids and he liked it that way.
Well, most of the time.
Right now, no matter how interested he pretended to be in on whatever it was playing on the TV, he was kind of bored. No, wait, make that really bored. Sighing, he rolled onto his stomach, sticking his arms out in front of him and stretching his back. A quick glance at the clock told him it was one in the morning. If he wanted to, he could just go to bed. That was the thing though; he didn’t want to sleep. Sleeping was boring. He wanted to stay up and do something productive. His parents were away for the weekend, giving him some much needed time to himself and he didn’t intend to waste that time sleeping. No, he would do something productive.
He physically rolled off the sofa, landing on his knees, before crawling across the room over to his guitar. Playing guitar was his passion in life and one of the few productive things he could do at one in the morning. Sitting on the floor, back leaning against the armchair his guitar had been resting on, he pulled the instrument into his lap and began plucking the strings. Soft notes filtered around the room as his fingers worked deftly across it, practising a new song he’d been working on.
A loud bang outside had his fingers halting their movements and his gaze snapping towards the window.
Oh god, he was going to be burgled! He was going to be burgled when he was sitting in the damn lounge. This was it. This was how it ended for him. Frank Iero, killed by a rogue burglar. He needed a weapon. Something to defend himself with. A quick search of the room caused him to question his parents’ sanity. What sort of sensible person didn’t leave their sixteen year old son with a single thing to defend himself with when they left him for a whole weekend?!
At what he heard next though, his heart lessened the frantic pace it was beating at and he arched an eyebrow. Was that moaning?! Oh god, it was worse than he thought. Some delinquents were having sex in his driveway! How incredibly rude and disturbing. Then, there was laughter. What kind of freak laughed during sex? Of course, all things sexual weren’t exactly Frank’s strong point, but he was certain he knew enough to know that laughing in the face of someone you were getting it on with really wasn’t the way to go. He highly doubted that it was beneficial if you wanted to ever get some from that person ever again. Perhaps laughter was the socially acceptable way of saying “No offense, but you’re crap at this.”
Obviously Frank had a wish to become mentally scarred for life, because he found himself creeping across the room towards the window and peeling back the curtain, peering out into the darkness to see what was going on. Squinting slightly, he could just about make out the shape of someone sprawled across the path outside his house, though they didn’t appear to be with anyone else. Quite the opposite in fact. Instead, it seemed that they were very much alone. There was something slightly off about it though. Normal people didn’t just lie in the middle of the street at gone one in the morning.
Briefly weighing up the pros and cons of going out to investigate, the sixteen year old was opening the front door a moment later. Standing in the doorway, he called out to the anonymous figure. “Mate? Are you alright down there?” When the only response he got was laughter, he decided that it was probably safe enough to proceed a little closer. Making sure to leave the door open, in case the person turned out to be a homicidal maniac and he had to run back inside for safety, he made his way down the path. Holy shit, the concrete was cold. Shoes would have probably been a good idea though it was too late for that now.
Eventually coming to a stop near the figure, he looked down at their face, realising with a start that it was someone he knew. Well, knew of. He was looking down into the incredibly drunken face of Gerard someone or another. He was one of those ‘cool’ kids, two years above him in school if he remembered correctly. What he was doing outside his house though, he had no idea.
“What are you doing on the floor?” Frank asked simply, not really knowing what else to say.
The drunken teen rolled onto his back, laughing elatedly as he gestured towards a nearby lamppost. “The lamppost. It pushed me.”
Oh jeez. He really was wasted. “So, you walked into the lamppost and then fell over?”
An angry pout formed on Gerard’s lips as his hand came up to clumsily rub at his eyes, smudging the already smudged eyeliner further. The boy was a complete mess. “No! The lamppost pushed me!”
Slightly taken aback by the sudden anger the older boy spoke with, Frank simply nodded. “Okay then, the lamppost pushed you. Are you gonna get up, because you can’t stay there all night?” And more to the point, his feet were really freaking cold by now.
“Mmmkay. I’ll get up. I just...just need to...” Gerard attempted to scramble to his feet, only to trip and fall straight back down again. “The air pushed me overrrrrrrr,” he whined, once again laying flat on his back.
This was ridiculous. It was time for evasive action. Leaning down, Frank took hold of one of Gerard’s hands and tugged him forwards. “C’mon. Get up. I could quite easily leave you out here to freeze, but y’know, I’m a nice guy so I won’t.” Plus, if the temperature of Gerard’s hand was anything to go by, then he really was pretty close to freezing. Frank wasn’t sure where exactly the party he presumed Gerard had come from was, but he hadn’t been able to hear loud music and rowdy teenagers, so he guessed it was a little way away. Wherever it was, Gerard had obviously walked from there – somehow he doubted ‘cool’ people gave their friends a lift half way home and then pushed them out on the side of the road. Unless Gerard had thrown up in their car. Oh god, he was going to get puked on.
Getting the older teen to his feet was a sight more difficult that he thought it was, seeing as Gerard seemed intent on not helping in the slightest. Instead, whenever Frank attempted to pull him to his feet, he just spun on his backside, laughing. Eventually, Frank got fed up. “Oi, jackass,” he snapped, nudging Gerard’s thigh with his foot. “Seriously, get up or I’ll leave you here.”
Dark, somewhat hazy eyes stared up at him, blinking as though trying to figure out whether he was serious or not. Apparently, whatever Gerard saw showed him that this really was not the time to continue messing around so, with a ridiculously heavy sigh, he once again attempted to get to his feet. This time though he actually managed it, only to fall into Frank as soon as he’d stood up.
Stumbling backwards some, Frank wrapped a cautious arm over Gerard’s shoulder, making a mental note never to get drunk. Ever. Ending up like this, unable to stand up under his own command, was definitely something he could do without. “Walk that way,” he said simply, pointing towards his front door, stood ajar and beckoning them both inside. Shifting slightly so that Gerard was leaning on him, the pair made their way down the path, the older of the two laughing hysterically as they went as though there was something incredibly amusing about the whole thing.
There wasn’t. There really wasn’t.
Kicking the door shut behind him, the pair made a slight detour into the lounge. Releasing his hold on Gerard, Frank watched as he literally flopped onto the sofa, face-planting the cushion in the process. Oh, he was going to feel good in the morning. “Gerard,” he began, rolling his eyes when all he got was a moan in response – the older didn’t even care how he knew his name. Was probably so used to everyone knowing him that it didn’t bother him anymore. How delightful. “Gerard, sit up.” Not even a moan this time. “I’m going to get you some water. When I get back, I want you sat up or I’m gonna kick you out of my house so damn fast.”
Lies. All lies. He wasn’t that mean, though he kept that to himself as he walked out of the lounge, returning a moment later with a big glass of cold water, complete with straw. Somehow he thought that if Gerard tried to drink out of it, like, you know, a normal person would, more of it would end up on his sofa that it would in the other boy’s mouth. He allowed to a small smile to curve to his lips when he saw that Gerard had managed to sit up, even if he had then slumped against the sofa, looking like a drunken fool. Which, to be honest, he was.
“Drink this. It might help to sober you up,” though he was certain it would take more than a glass of water to sober up this particular person. Handing the glass to Gerard, he took to figuring out what to do with him. He could hardly send him back out onto the streets, could he? The guy couldn’t even walk, let alone navigate his way back home. Ordering him a taxi was out as well, seeing as the only money Frank had on him was for food and dammit, he needed that money. “Have you got any money on you?”
“Noooope, spent it all.”
That caused Frank to frown slightly. What would he have spent money on if he’d been at a party? Unless he’d been sent out on a shopping trip to buy more drinks? Yeah, that seemed plausible. “Well, looks like you’re gonna have to sleep here tonight, then. You can’t get yourself home and I’m sure as hell not walking you there.” Because it was far too cold for that. “My parents are away for the weekend, so I’ll grab you their duvet and pillows. Just...don’t throw up on them? Okay?”
Shaking his head, spilling a little water in the process, Gerard grinned. “Won’t. Promise. I’ll be good.”
If only being good prevented projectile vomiting. “’Kay, just stay here then.” Not that he was in a state to be going anywhere. Once again leaving the room, this time Frank ran up the stairs into his parents’ room, grabbing a couple of pillows and the duvet and running back downstairs. Perhaps a bowl would be a good idea as well, just in case the copious amounts of alcohol Gerard had obviously consumed decided to make a reappearance. It was certainly a possibility. Hands very much full, he made his way back into the lounge, dropping everything on the floor in a pile. “Right, I got you a couple of pillows,” picking them up, he propped them at one end of the sofa, “and a duvet.” He pushed the blanket in Gerard’s general direction. The other might be drunk, but he could tuck himself in to bed. Or rather, the sofa. “I also got you this,” he said, gesturing towards the bowl which he nudged closer to the sofa. “So if you do decide to throw up, do it in that.”
Frowning, as though concentrating very hard on something, Gerard nodded slowly. “’Kaaaaay, thanks.”
Frank smiled a little, still somewhat shocked about the fact that he currently had one of the most popular guys in school, drunk on his sofa, wrapped up in his parents’ duvet. “I’m gonna head to bed now, so if you need me, just walk into each room until you find me. G’night.” Turning to leave the room for the final time, he stopped in the doorway when he heard Gerard speak.
“Kid, wait. What’s...what’s your name?”
“Frank.”
Eyes falling shut, an almost content smile on his face, Gerard placed the glass of water on the floor and snuggled down into the duvet, flicking his feet up to rest on the sofa. “Night, Frank,” he muttered, apparently already half asleep.
Nodding once despite the fact that Gerard didn’t see the action, Frank began to climb the stairs to get to his room. What was that he was saying about being bored? Yeah, bored was good. Bored was normal and the last thing the events which had just unfolded were was normal.
Well, one good thing would come out of this. No matter how weird the past few minutes had been, he’d feel a sight better about them in the morning than Gerard would.
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