FicWad

Gerard's feet shuffled along the pavement, kicking aside the many decaying leaves littering it. Small puddles from a heavy rainfall earlier in the day reflected the dull glow of the moon, full and huge, clouds trying to block it out. Gerard purposely stepped in as many as he could, breaking the silence of the empty place. His dark figure was hardly noticeable in the faintly lit street. His coat, buttoned all the way up to his chin and encasing his slender frame in black, matched his hair perfectly. Its length tickled the laces on his boots, shuffling and stamping across the floor. Ivory skin hidden beneath the greasy mess and smooth material was a sharp contrast to it. To anyone who would pass by him now, he would honestly look like the undead. Gerard smiled at the mere thought of death. The dead were his favourite people.

Turning the corner at the end of the road, he walked on towards where he wanted to be. Huge oak trees discarding their leaves towered above him, gnarled figures with their arms blowing gently in the breeze. Whilst he walked swiftly, his nimble fingers carried a shovel in them. He would need it later. He smiled again at the very thought. Gerard suddenly stopped and stared at what was in front of him. A small grin formed on his pale face as he walked towards the great iron gates; the only obstacles that would get in the way of his secret playground. The cemetery.

Gerard loved it here. Every night he came here, wandering between the gravestones and lying beside them, to talk to the dead. He knew he was crazy for talking to them, but he didn't give a shit. The dead, in his opinion, were understanding. They would stay quiet and let him talk for as much as he wanted. No one else would let him, no one else would even want to listen. But the dead didn't have a choice. They lay in silence whilst Gerard talked to them about any random
thing that popped into his head. He talked about how the jocks beat him up nearly every day, how he had no friends, how he was feeling that day. It was as if he were a mental patient and the dead were his many therapists.

Tonight, however, was different. Much different.

Gerard quickly surveyed his surroundings, checking if anyone had followed him here. Seeing the area was completely desolate, he sighed quietly in relief and opened the gates. Once he was finally inside his sanctuary, he shut the gates and began to stroll through the perfectly kept gardens of the graveyard in complete silence. He had more respect for those who lay here than those he knew. Every so often, he would stop at a tombstone and read the inscription, muttering silent prayers to whoever had passed. He would then look up to the moon, a slight splash of colour flashing into his eyes when he stared into the dull light. His sharp hazel orbs glistened, a manic glow setting into them. He would then sigh and continue walking. He had one, and only one, thing he had to do this evening. He didn't need distractions.
After a while of searching, he found the newer part of the cemetery, near the morgue building. Those who died recently were buried around here; he had to find just one of them. He hardly ever ventured into this part of the graveyard.

"The older ones are so much more interesting to talk to," he said aloud, scanning individual tombstones for who he was looking for. The manic glow in his eyes was growing rapidly.
Suddenly, a certain gravestone caught his vision. He'd found it. The grave he was looking for. Gerard grinned menacingly, and got his shovel ready.

"So there you are, Frank," he murmured softly, kneeling down in front of the tombstone and stroking his fingers along the name enscribed on it. Frank Anthony Iero Jr. Grabbing his shovel, he thrust it into the new, freshly-lain earth where Frank lay under and began digging frantically.

Frank was the boy who lived across the road from Gerard. Popular and talented, Frank was in all of Gerard's classes at school. For all of his high-school life, Gerard had been in awe of the small, rebellious punk kid. In awe was an understatement, as a matter of fact. Gerard was obsessed with him. Just like Gerard loved the dead, Gerard loved Frank. He developed a sick obsession for him soon after he first saw him. He would stalk him during school, watch him from his bedroom window, follow him everywhere he could, even to the bathroom. Gerard wanted him all to himself.

Then it happened. A week before, Frank was in an extremely severe car accident. He went immediately into a coma from the initial force of the incident. Frank could never make it. He died before he'd even got to the hospital. And while everyone else was grieving and in a state of despair, Gerard was formulating a plan.

A sick, twisted plan. The average product of Gerard's imagination.

Finally, Gerard had finished digging. All that was left was to get inside his coffin. Jumping down into the deep hole, he began attempting to open Frank's shiny, newly buried casket. It took him a while, longer than he'd expected, but eventually he opened it. And to Gerard, it was worth it.

Frank's peaceful, lifeless body lay, basking in the moon's glow. He was dressed in a crystal white shirt and black skinny jeans, complete with a deep crimson tie and his favourite bright red Converse. His black hair lay gently on his pale face, his long fringe contrasting perfectly with the small, shaven blonde part on the side. The various piercings he had stood out, the metal rings and studs shining in the moonlight. His eyes, usually a rich brown and full of life, were now closed and coloured in his favourite red eyeliner. A scar was just visible on his hairline, where he had been hit hard enough to eventually die. Gerard's mouth curved upwards in a sinister smile. Frank was the perfect emblem of death.

"Oh Frank," Gerard whispered, leaning over to finally kiss the love of his life on his
ice-cold lips. Although Frank couldn't move, Gerard could feel him kiss back. He knew he could. He deepened his kiss, wrapping his arms around the small frame of his forbidden love. A final, quick kiss on the lips, and Gerard buried himself into Frank's unmoving but oddly comforting arms. A gesture proving he was never going to let go.

"I'm going to prove I love you Frank," Gerard said loudly, stroking Frank's dark locks. "I've loved you for so long, and now I need to show you just how much I really do."

Getting up, Gerard grabbed Frank's lithe body in his skinny but surprisingly strong arms, and placed him gently on the ground above.

"You'll be six feet under again soon, Frank," Gerard cooed as he hoisted himself up. "Just this one little thing and I promise I won't come near you again."

Once Gerard was firmly on the ground above, he lifted Frank up once again and began carrying him, desperately trying to find somewhere just slightly secluded. He scoured the desolate gardens for somewhere so they could be alone. Gerard soon spotted the right place. He moved swiftly to a stone bench partially under a dying willow tree, overgrown with daisies and wildgrass. It looked so ethereal and beautiful; Gerard knew he had found the perfect place to commit his ultimate deed.

Lying Frank down carefully on the smooth surface of the stone, he kissed his cold forehead gently, then suddenly yelled, staring up at the moon. His manic glint was showing more than ever.

"I want the whole fucking world to see how much I love you Frank! I'm going to prove it to you! I'm going to fucking prove it whether anyone likes it or not!"

With that, he slowly unbuttoned his coat, revealing nothing but pure, pale skin, tainted by the many marks from himself and by the bullies at school. Cut, burn, punch, scratch...it all gave him the same blissful feeling in the end. Now Gerard could have a different feeling altogether.

Completely naked in the blue dark, Gerard stood next to Frank and yelled again. "Don't you see what you've done to me? I did this for you, Frank! I did this for you!"

Suddenly, Gerard got on top of Frank's dead body, and began to unloosen his tie. Stroking his face, he continued to speak, much softer and quieter than before. "My God, Frank. You're so beautiful."

Once his tie was removed, Gerard slowly unbuttoned his crisp shirt. When he'd gotten rid of the inferior article of clothing, Gerard ran his cold hands along Frank's even colder chest, crushing his eyes closed in a state of bliss. Opening his eyes again, Gerard let out a
shaky breath and began to rid Frank of his belt.

"I need this Frank," he whispered as he got the belt off and started undoing his jeans. "I've needed this for so long. I'm pretty sure you have too, though."

Once Frank's jeans and pants were finally off, Gerard straddled him and simply stared at his pure white, unbreathing body. He stroked Frank's face, tapping his fingers along his cheekbones. He stroked Frank's arms, running his cold fingertips along the frozen veins going up and down them. Then, he reached down and stroked Frank's dick, finally able to do something he'd always wanted to.

"Oh God..." Gerard whispered, breath hitching in his throat at the touch. He continued stroking, making low, soft growling sounds that matched those of some sort of animal. Gerard was beginning to let his animal instincts come through.

Slowly, as careful as he could, he pried apart Frank's frozen legs, stiff from rigor mortis. Gerard, after finding Frank's entrance, spits on his cold hands and coats his dick, moaning at the touch. He also lubricated Frank's entrance. "I don't want to hurt you," he whispered into Frank's dark locks.

He got himself into position, and carefully slid into Frank, all the way up to the hilt. Gerard let out a loud moan, filling the empty silence of the graveyard. He lay there for a while, grasping onto Frank's hips for extra support, trying to adjust. Soon, he began to thrust into Frank's corpse. It was slightly harder than it could usually be, as rigor mortis had set in, but Gerard kept on thrusting, hard and fast. He had to; he needed this so badly.

"Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!" He panted, crushing his manic eyes closed in ecstasy. A soft chorus of moans began to flood from his mouth. He plunged deeper, trying to impale himself into Frank's moving but unliving body. Gerard tickled his ear with his tongue, tracing it down his cheekbones. He panted in rhythm with his own thrusts, going as hard as he could. It didn't really matter how hard he did go, Frank was dead. He couldn't feel the pleasure; or the pain.

Gerard kept going, faster than ever, seemingly desperate. With a few final thrusts, he came into Frank, releasing warmth into his freezing body. "Frank! Fuck!" He yelled out, riding out his orgasm as best as he could. He then went to collapse on Frank, panting and starting to cover him in his sweat. After a few minutes of simply lying there, Gerard sat up a little, and licked the sweat he had dripped onto Frank devilishly. Then, staring at Frank's flawless face, he kissed it one final time. "See? I knew I could prove it to you Frank," he said with a small smile. "I just knew I could."

With that, Gerard got off of Frank and put his black coat on, sighing quietly with relief. He then dressed Frank, making sure every item of clothing was perfectly tidy and in order. He
lifted Frank's now-clothed body off the bench and carried it bridal-style back to his waiting casket. Before Gerard closed the lid, he smiled at Frank, and reached into his coat pocket. "I have something for you."

He pulled out a small, withering rose from the depths of his coat, and kissed it softly before throwing it down into the grave. It landed in Frank's clasped hands. Gerard smiled, and closed his eyes. His twisted mind swore he could see Frank smile just a little.

"I knew you'd like it."