Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
A/N: Hi everyone! This is my secret Santa to ObsessedKilljoy! Hope you like it dear :) I am sad that I won't be able to read everyone else's in Christmas :( But I hope everyone enjoys their day!
When 23, year old, Gerard Way left New Jersey, and all that it held, it was to avoid a boy. Well really a spectacularly unpleasant five year relationship. It was time for change. The kind of change that apparently involved moving across the country to a teeny tiny town unfortunately named Oceanview. It was unfortunate, as Oceanview (population: 207) was in the middle of the Nevada desert. Death Valley to be exact.
So after cramming full two bags small enough to be considered carry-ons and squeezing his brother, Mikey, into a hug so constricting Gerard thought his head might just pop off, Gerard caught the first red eye flight he could find and disappeared into the night.
A seven hour flight, two taxies and near panic attack regarding the logic and whether or not it was present in this particularly endevour, later Gerard was greeted by a young blonde, just past curvy real estate agent at the rusted gate of his new home. The house in question was a warm yellow with an off white trim around the dusty panes of the windows and blue front door (this Gerard already new from the estate photos on the website that he gave but a cursory glance at before purchasing the house). The lawn (lawn; noun. 1. yellow orange sand that covers the majority of horizontal surfaces in the humble town of Oceanview) was really quite large, flat of course though. Oceanview was nothing but flat; not a single mountain, hill or slope to be seen for miles.
“The house is quite nice, really” the woman remarks as she works at wiggling the key around lock on the front door until it popped and swung open with a groan of protest and a cloud of dust “And quite cheap” the woman, Cindy, as she had introduced herself as, coughed on the air and waved a hand in front of her face as to bat away the barely visible enemy that had invaded both her and Gerard sinuses “Considering it comes with all the furniture”
Gerard hums in agreement.
It is bright inside, the light dancing on the white sheets covering the various chairs and clutter in the front room. It is actually quite charming really, all high ceilings and delicate door arches.
Cindy hovers awkwardly in open doorway, unsure whether to follow Gerard in.
Gerard smiles shyly in her direction and says “If I had any I would invite you in for a cup of coffee”
“Oh” she returns the smile and Gerard decides then and there that he is going to like it here “Don't worry about it, thanks though” she beamed “I mean I should be going anyway, but you should come to the town meeting on Sunday afternoon. It's getting really close to Christmas and we get pretty into it here. Parties and parades all that kind of thing”
Gerard is kind of shocked for a moment there, he has forgotten all about Christmas. He is suddenly hit with a stab of guilt for leaving Mikey so close to the holidays, though he had Sarah now. Now all Gerard feels in lonely, so he sighed and tried to smile again.
“Oh I'm not very in to Christmas... anymore”
“Well... you should come anyway! This might just be your turn for a Christmas miracle” that kind of faith in something good makes Gerard go all gooey and warm inside so he lets the moment of joy melt through him and thanks Cindy profusely.
Yeah, Gerard is going to like it here.
:X:
By 2.54 pm on the third day that Gerard had been in Oceanview (a Friday to be exact), he had unpacked the little that he had to unpack and finally decided that he couldn't hide out from the locals surviving on those little packets of peanuts that the airline gives you, any longer. So he dragged himself from the spare bedroom that he had claimed as his new studio, scrubbed as much paint as he could from his skin and yanked on his coat and beaten black Doctor Martin boots.
It is cold outside, like not Jersey cold but cool enough for Gerard to exclaim 'Fuck!' when a particularly brutal gust of wind cuts into him along with a mouthful of gritty sand.
Gerard's new low-set bungalow home is on the outskirts of town, though considering Oceanview consisted of one main road and about three or four side streets, the 'outskirts' of town really meant it took fifteen minutes to walk to the grocers rather then two or three.
The main drag was basically completely empty of cars just a delivery truck parked half on the curb and a blue pick up truck that looked as though it had seen its better days about 30 years ago.
Though what was lacking in vehicle traffic was certainly made-up for in the foot traffic. It was really quite extraordinary for a town that small, it seemed that nearly the entire population was out and about. It took Gerard nearly a whole other twenty minutes to get to 'Iero's Friendly Grocers' due to the sheer number of greetings and welcomings he had received in the span from 'Hurley's Butcher' to 'Byrar's A-1 Hardware'. So it could have been said that Gerard was feeling rather flustered by the time the bell tinkered above his head when he stumbled into the grocers.
“Suck my balls, Wentz!” a throaty victory call came from the front checkout counter, where a pair of no older than twenty year old boys were perched; a pack of cards sprawled between the two. The boy who had called out straddled the bench waving his hands above his head, shit eating grin play on his face before he snatched a handful of crumpled bills from the other boy, presumably Wentz.
“Fuck you, Frank” Wentz blew a raspberry, with a impressive shower of spit at his companion before turning to Gerard “Oh hey, dude”
Gerard just kind stood there doing that awkward little wave he does when he gets nervous.
“I'm Pete” the loser of the card game grinned at Gerard, flapping his hand, as his friend (friend; noun. 1. one who is still in contact with the former even after the Miss Jackson dog sitting incident and is like a centimetre shorter than the former but doesn't mind being the butt of all of their short jokes) gathered up the cards still smirking about his winnings.
“Um... Gerard” he wrings his hands together before continuing “I just moved here”
“Duh you're the talk of the whole town” the other spoke, though the sarcasm was coupled with a huge friendly grin, the kind of grin the had all the tell-tale promises of mischief.
“Yeah but when you didn't leave the old Urie property for like three days, we were all starting to think you were some kind of crazy shut in or something” Pete giggled “No one said anything about you being this cute though”
A blush crept up Gerard's cheeks as Pete's friend smacked him across the side of the head.
“Must you flirt with every thing that fucking moves, Pete? Really?” Pete returned the favour by planting a huge slobbery kiss on his friends cheek, that Gerard could hear from where he was standing.
“And this lonely and just jealous really” Pete stage whispered, eyes wide, jabbing a thumb in the others direction “Lame excuse for a best friend is one Frank Iero, the only person over the age of eight, right here in the ever beautiful Oceanview, shorter than me” the sentence was punctuated with a hefty punch from Frank on Pete's left arm.
“Whatever punk, I'm off. It's the holidays and there is no way in hell I am spending it in here” he gestured widely to the cluttered shop before wrapping his arms tightly around Frank's waist and once again kissing him loudly on the cheek “Catch you on the flip side Frankie” then he turned on his heel heading towards the door stopping only to wink at Gerard.
Frank shook his floppy black fringe out of his eyes after clambering off the counter and straightened his white sharpie adorned shirt. In black marker it read 'Black Flag' with the bars painted on with fading red beneath the scrawl.
“Nice shirt” Gerard smiled, trying desperately not to notice Frank wet his deliciously pink cupid bow lips.
“Oh yeah” he returned the smirk “Do you know how hard it is to get band merch this far out in the middle of fucking nowhere?” Gerard giggled along with Frank for moment before remarking.
“Um I'm an artist...” like that alone would get his point across, before shaking his head and starting again “I'm an artist, I could probably screen print you up one that won't fade... and would be a bit, ya know neater” he shrugged, once again dragging his eyes away from that damn mouth just in time to see Frank's eyes light up.
“Dude! Fuck yeah! That would be rockin'” though for a second he looks worried “Um how much...? You know family owned business so I get paid in like casseroles and slimly kisses from Grandma. So cash is purely reserved for rent and getting my baby Les Paul fixed”
“Oh god, no. There's no charge!” Gerard is sort of shocked that Frank thinks that he will be charge “I do this kind of thing because I love it, I'm a artist...” he repeats before he trails off and blushes.
"You could, um…” Gerard stuttered, it was hot and clammy inside the store, as if he could feel Franks’ breath all over his skin “You could swing by my house, like um my studio. And we could sort out the design and all that”
At this that huge beaming grin returns to Franks feature, laced with the promise of mischief. Gerard sort of hops from one foot to the other, like he is cumbersomely dancing to his own awkward words.
“Sure”
“Oh! Ah awesome. Let me just…” Gerard scrambles, jamming his hands into his pockets and returning with a crumpled receipt, taking the pen that Frank offers that was previously nested behind his left ear; it is warm from the subtle touch of skin when Gerard scrawls his address (almost uselessly considering the size of the town) on the back of the receipt now damp from Gerard’s sweaty hands.
The winning smile that Frank gives in exchange for the address is enough to make Gerard’s skin to tingle.
:X:
It isn’t until Gerard is well and truly home, sat down for a few minutes and decided that he was going to use the cerulean blue oils for that painting he was working on of Frankenstein’s bride instead of the indigo, that he then realizes that he did in fact pick up no groceries in the fluster of going into town. He momentarily considers going back, until the thought of traipsing back through the main street making him kind of want to be sick is enough to convince him otherwise.
So he busies himself with straightening up and hopes that Frank doesn’t ask for a cup of coffee when he comes over in a few hours.
Gerard tells himself to not get his hopes up and that he shouldn’t even be interested in anyone at the moment. He moved to Oceanview to focus on his art, eat lots of cake and have no one tell him he’s getting fat and to not get tangled up in relationships that he cannot handle; which, incidentally, is all of them.
:X:
Gerard is singing to himself rather loudly in the shower when the doorbell rings. He manages to not slip over and crack his head open on the bathtub and ruin the dinosaur bath mat, that Mikey got him for his last birthday, by bleeding to death all over it. But only just.
So when he answers the door he is wrapped in a fluffy white towel, his milky white chest for the world to see. Well for Frank to see as he stands on his front porch; a cigarette smouldering in between his teeth, the cherry illuminating his face in the early evening, the dying light shining behind his head giving him a white halo to contrast with that devilish smirk. There is another smoke tucked behind his ear, where the pen had been a few hours ago. Gerard remembers the warmth and chokes on a heavy gulp.
“Well this is a surprise” Frank starts, he is in the same jeans and scruffy Vans as he was in the shop but he had changed his shirt to a pink number decorated with fading yet be it happy Carebears.
“C-come in” Gerard steps aside to give Frank plenty of room to slide through the door, but his arm brushes Gerard’s bare chest nevertheless “I’m just going to go and put some clothes on”
“Alright” Frank doesn’t even bother turning around as he trails into the kitchen, two plastic bags that Gerard didn’t previously notice, in tow.
When Gerard pads out again, he is clad in jeans, a plain black tee-shirt and odd socks. His dark hair still that un-brushed shower kind of messy.
Frank is sitting on Gerard’s counter smoking his other cigarette and swinging his legs. Like he has some kind of counter fetish.
“I brought you over some stuff, because you kind of left before you could, you know, buy anything” Frank hops down from the bench and starts rummaging through the plastic bags that have made acquaintance with Gerard’s tiny dining table.
“Oh cool, thanks”
“No problem consider it payment for the shirt” he smiles, all warm and fucking kissable and Gerard tries to tell himself that he doesn’t need this right now but takes step back to stop himself from doing anything stupid anyway.
Frank apparently already knows Gerard pretty fucking well because as he unpacks the bags he produces; instant coffee, two packets of cigarettes (Carmel Light and Marlboro Reds ‘Because Frank didn’t know exactly what Gerard liked just that he looked like he could use a smoke), a packet of pop tarts, milk, bread, sugar and a jumbo box of Fruit Loops. Though he turns around for a moment and gropes around in the bag for another second before telling Gerard to close his eyes.
“And I will not hesitate to kick you in the balls if you peak” Gerard clamps his eyes shut as tightly as he can.
Frank attempts to tame Gerard’s wild hair and then proceeds to jam a spectacularly festive Santa’s hat atop his head. Standing on his very tip toes to do so of course. He then arranges his own, lop sided and really fucking cute.
“See I knew you were the kind of guy who enjoyed the festivities!” Frank yells, clearly enjoying his win.
:X:
Two hours after having lost track of time Gerard and Frank are lying on the roof, just enjoying their eggnog and understanding the stars. Frank is wearing his brand spanking new Black Flag shirt. Despite Gerard’s warning that the ink wasn’t dry so now Frank is complaining about the paint sticking to his chest.
So everything was going great and Gerard was doing a really rockin’ job at not looking at Frank’s mouth and keeping his distance and then somehow they are lying right next to each other all pressed up; shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee, fingers itching to grab onto Franks’.
“I kind of stopped believing in the ‘magic’ of Christmas, you know?” Gerard says, almost too quietly but Frank is listening, he has been listening all night.
“I never stopped. I mean I don’t believe in Santa or anything, but it is just something about Christmas that makes people…” Frank stops and tries to get the right words out “Happy. Makes them do things they wouldn’t normally do, you know? Just because it’s Christmas”
“Like in Love Actually” Gerard giggles.
“I didn’t think anyone else had actually see that” Frank kind of blushes, and the pink glows in the night and he looks really fucking pretty.
Gerard lights a Marlboro for something to do with his hands. After his first two drags he passes it to Frank who accepts it wordlessly.
When he hands it back they lock eyes and Gerard is no longer in the possession of the will power to look away. This time he actually can feel Frank’s breath tickle his skin; hot and clammy.
“Fuck” Frank breathes “I really want to fucking kiss you”
“Just because it’s Christmas” Gerard breathes right back almost just not smiling, but it is there. It’s always been there.
And then Gerard realises that he is done for. He has that whole ‘I can imagine growing old with you’ moment in his brain. He can seriously see himself falling for this boy and he is fucking done for.
All of a sudden they’re kissing. And it is really fucking beautiful and Frank tastes like eggnog and Marlboros and sweat despite the cold. It’s all hands knotted in hair and lip bitting and spit dribble and Jesus Christ is fucking perfect.
When they pull back they are left in a fit of giggles. With a peck here and a peck there, Frank whispers.
“Just because it’s Christmas”
A/N: Merry Christmas my freaky little friends. Hope you enjoyed it ObsessedKilljoy And let's all give a three cheers for dearest Hozzie for organising this!!!!
XO ALEXANDRA LACEY DAY
http://ficwad.com/author/144478
When 23, year old, Gerard Way left New Jersey, and all that it held, it was to avoid a boy. Well really a spectacularly unpleasant five year relationship. It was time for change. The kind of change that apparently involved moving across the country to a teeny tiny town unfortunately named Oceanview. It was unfortunate, as Oceanview (population: 207) was in the middle of the Nevada desert. Death Valley to be exact.
So after cramming full two bags small enough to be considered carry-ons and squeezing his brother, Mikey, into a hug so constricting Gerard thought his head might just pop off, Gerard caught the first red eye flight he could find and disappeared into the night.
A seven hour flight, two taxies and near panic attack regarding the logic and whether or not it was present in this particularly endevour, later Gerard was greeted by a young blonde, just past curvy real estate agent at the rusted gate of his new home. The house in question was a warm yellow with an off white trim around the dusty panes of the windows and blue front door (this Gerard already new from the estate photos on the website that he gave but a cursory glance at before purchasing the house). The lawn (lawn; noun. 1. yellow orange sand that covers the majority of horizontal surfaces in the humble town of Oceanview) was really quite large, flat of course though. Oceanview was nothing but flat; not a single mountain, hill or slope to be seen for miles.
“The house is quite nice, really” the woman remarks as she works at wiggling the key around lock on the front door until it popped and swung open with a groan of protest and a cloud of dust “And quite cheap” the woman, Cindy, as she had introduced herself as, coughed on the air and waved a hand in front of her face as to bat away the barely visible enemy that had invaded both her and Gerard sinuses “Considering it comes with all the furniture”
Gerard hums in agreement.
It is bright inside, the light dancing on the white sheets covering the various chairs and clutter in the front room. It is actually quite charming really, all high ceilings and delicate door arches.
Cindy hovers awkwardly in open doorway, unsure whether to follow Gerard in.
Gerard smiles shyly in her direction and says “If I had any I would invite you in for a cup of coffee”
“Oh” she returns the smile and Gerard decides then and there that he is going to like it here “Don't worry about it, thanks though” she beamed “I mean I should be going anyway, but you should come to the town meeting on Sunday afternoon. It's getting really close to Christmas and we get pretty into it here. Parties and parades all that kind of thing”
Gerard is kind of shocked for a moment there, he has forgotten all about Christmas. He is suddenly hit with a stab of guilt for leaving Mikey so close to the holidays, though he had Sarah now. Now all Gerard feels in lonely, so he sighed and tried to smile again.
“Oh I'm not very in to Christmas... anymore”
“Well... you should come anyway! This might just be your turn for a Christmas miracle” that kind of faith in something good makes Gerard go all gooey and warm inside so he lets the moment of joy melt through him and thanks Cindy profusely.
Yeah, Gerard is going to like it here.
:X:
By 2.54 pm on the third day that Gerard had been in Oceanview (a Friday to be exact), he had unpacked the little that he had to unpack and finally decided that he couldn't hide out from the locals surviving on those little packets of peanuts that the airline gives you, any longer. So he dragged himself from the spare bedroom that he had claimed as his new studio, scrubbed as much paint as he could from his skin and yanked on his coat and beaten black Doctor Martin boots.
It is cold outside, like not Jersey cold but cool enough for Gerard to exclaim 'Fuck!' when a particularly brutal gust of wind cuts into him along with a mouthful of gritty sand.
Gerard's new low-set bungalow home is on the outskirts of town, though considering Oceanview consisted of one main road and about three or four side streets, the 'outskirts' of town really meant it took fifteen minutes to walk to the grocers rather then two or three.
The main drag was basically completely empty of cars just a delivery truck parked half on the curb and a blue pick up truck that looked as though it had seen its better days about 30 years ago.
Though what was lacking in vehicle traffic was certainly made-up for in the foot traffic. It was really quite extraordinary for a town that small, it seemed that nearly the entire population was out and about. It took Gerard nearly a whole other twenty minutes to get to 'Iero's Friendly Grocers' due to the sheer number of greetings and welcomings he had received in the span from 'Hurley's Butcher' to 'Byrar's A-1 Hardware'. So it could have been said that Gerard was feeling rather flustered by the time the bell tinkered above his head when he stumbled into the grocers.
“Suck my balls, Wentz!” a throaty victory call came from the front checkout counter, where a pair of no older than twenty year old boys were perched; a pack of cards sprawled between the two. The boy who had called out straddled the bench waving his hands above his head, shit eating grin play on his face before he snatched a handful of crumpled bills from the other boy, presumably Wentz.
“Fuck you, Frank” Wentz blew a raspberry, with a impressive shower of spit at his companion before turning to Gerard “Oh hey, dude”
Gerard just kind stood there doing that awkward little wave he does when he gets nervous.
“I'm Pete” the loser of the card game grinned at Gerard, flapping his hand, as his friend (friend; noun. 1. one who is still in contact with the former even after the Miss Jackson dog sitting incident and is like a centimetre shorter than the former but doesn't mind being the butt of all of their short jokes) gathered up the cards still smirking about his winnings.
“Um... Gerard” he wrings his hands together before continuing “I just moved here”
“Duh you're the talk of the whole town” the other spoke, though the sarcasm was coupled with a huge friendly grin, the kind of grin the had all the tell-tale promises of mischief.
“Yeah but when you didn't leave the old Urie property for like three days, we were all starting to think you were some kind of crazy shut in or something” Pete giggled “No one said anything about you being this cute though”
A blush crept up Gerard's cheeks as Pete's friend smacked him across the side of the head.
“Must you flirt with every thing that fucking moves, Pete? Really?” Pete returned the favour by planting a huge slobbery kiss on his friends cheek, that Gerard could hear from where he was standing.
“And this lonely and just jealous really” Pete stage whispered, eyes wide, jabbing a thumb in the others direction “Lame excuse for a best friend is one Frank Iero, the only person over the age of eight, right here in the ever beautiful Oceanview, shorter than me” the sentence was punctuated with a hefty punch from Frank on Pete's left arm.
“Whatever punk, I'm off. It's the holidays and there is no way in hell I am spending it in here” he gestured widely to the cluttered shop before wrapping his arms tightly around Frank's waist and once again kissing him loudly on the cheek “Catch you on the flip side Frankie” then he turned on his heel heading towards the door stopping only to wink at Gerard.
Frank shook his floppy black fringe out of his eyes after clambering off the counter and straightened his white sharpie adorned shirt. In black marker it read 'Black Flag' with the bars painted on with fading red beneath the scrawl.
“Nice shirt” Gerard smiled, trying desperately not to notice Frank wet his deliciously pink cupid bow lips.
“Oh yeah” he returned the smirk “Do you know how hard it is to get band merch this far out in the middle of fucking nowhere?” Gerard giggled along with Frank for moment before remarking.
“Um I'm an artist...” like that alone would get his point across, before shaking his head and starting again “I'm an artist, I could probably screen print you up one that won't fade... and would be a bit, ya know neater” he shrugged, once again dragging his eyes away from that damn mouth just in time to see Frank's eyes light up.
“Dude! Fuck yeah! That would be rockin'” though for a second he looks worried “Um how much...? You know family owned business so I get paid in like casseroles and slimly kisses from Grandma. So cash is purely reserved for rent and getting my baby Les Paul fixed”
“Oh god, no. There's no charge!” Gerard is sort of shocked that Frank thinks that he will be charge “I do this kind of thing because I love it, I'm a artist...” he repeats before he trails off and blushes.
"You could, um…” Gerard stuttered, it was hot and clammy inside the store, as if he could feel Franks’ breath all over his skin “You could swing by my house, like um my studio. And we could sort out the design and all that”
At this that huge beaming grin returns to Franks feature, laced with the promise of mischief. Gerard sort of hops from one foot to the other, like he is cumbersomely dancing to his own awkward words.
“Sure”
“Oh! Ah awesome. Let me just…” Gerard scrambles, jamming his hands into his pockets and returning with a crumpled receipt, taking the pen that Frank offers that was previously nested behind his left ear; it is warm from the subtle touch of skin when Gerard scrawls his address (almost uselessly considering the size of the town) on the back of the receipt now damp from Gerard’s sweaty hands.
The winning smile that Frank gives in exchange for the address is enough to make Gerard’s skin to tingle.
:X:
It isn’t until Gerard is well and truly home, sat down for a few minutes and decided that he was going to use the cerulean blue oils for that painting he was working on of Frankenstein’s bride instead of the indigo, that he then realizes that he did in fact pick up no groceries in the fluster of going into town. He momentarily considers going back, until the thought of traipsing back through the main street making him kind of want to be sick is enough to convince him otherwise.
So he busies himself with straightening up and hopes that Frank doesn’t ask for a cup of coffee when he comes over in a few hours.
Gerard tells himself to not get his hopes up and that he shouldn’t even be interested in anyone at the moment. He moved to Oceanview to focus on his art, eat lots of cake and have no one tell him he’s getting fat and to not get tangled up in relationships that he cannot handle; which, incidentally, is all of them.
:X:
Gerard is singing to himself rather loudly in the shower when the doorbell rings. He manages to not slip over and crack his head open on the bathtub and ruin the dinosaur bath mat, that Mikey got him for his last birthday, by bleeding to death all over it. But only just.
So when he answers the door he is wrapped in a fluffy white towel, his milky white chest for the world to see. Well for Frank to see as he stands on his front porch; a cigarette smouldering in between his teeth, the cherry illuminating his face in the early evening, the dying light shining behind his head giving him a white halo to contrast with that devilish smirk. There is another smoke tucked behind his ear, where the pen had been a few hours ago. Gerard remembers the warmth and chokes on a heavy gulp.
“Well this is a surprise” Frank starts, he is in the same jeans and scruffy Vans as he was in the shop but he had changed his shirt to a pink number decorated with fading yet be it happy Carebears.
“C-come in” Gerard steps aside to give Frank plenty of room to slide through the door, but his arm brushes Gerard’s bare chest nevertheless “I’m just going to go and put some clothes on”
“Alright” Frank doesn’t even bother turning around as he trails into the kitchen, two plastic bags that Gerard didn’t previously notice, in tow.
When Gerard pads out again, he is clad in jeans, a plain black tee-shirt and odd socks. His dark hair still that un-brushed shower kind of messy.
Frank is sitting on Gerard’s counter smoking his other cigarette and swinging his legs. Like he has some kind of counter fetish.
“I brought you over some stuff, because you kind of left before you could, you know, buy anything” Frank hops down from the bench and starts rummaging through the plastic bags that have made acquaintance with Gerard’s tiny dining table.
“Oh cool, thanks”
“No problem consider it payment for the shirt” he smiles, all warm and fucking kissable and Gerard tries to tell himself that he doesn’t need this right now but takes step back to stop himself from doing anything stupid anyway.
Frank apparently already knows Gerard pretty fucking well because as he unpacks the bags he produces; instant coffee, two packets of cigarettes (Carmel Light and Marlboro Reds ‘Because Frank didn’t know exactly what Gerard liked just that he looked like he could use a smoke), a packet of pop tarts, milk, bread, sugar and a jumbo box of Fruit Loops. Though he turns around for a moment and gropes around in the bag for another second before telling Gerard to close his eyes.
“And I will not hesitate to kick you in the balls if you peak” Gerard clamps his eyes shut as tightly as he can.
Frank attempts to tame Gerard’s wild hair and then proceeds to jam a spectacularly festive Santa’s hat atop his head. Standing on his very tip toes to do so of course. He then arranges his own, lop sided and really fucking cute.
“See I knew you were the kind of guy who enjoyed the festivities!” Frank yells, clearly enjoying his win.
:X:
Two hours after having lost track of time Gerard and Frank are lying on the roof, just enjoying their eggnog and understanding the stars. Frank is wearing his brand spanking new Black Flag shirt. Despite Gerard’s warning that the ink wasn’t dry so now Frank is complaining about the paint sticking to his chest.
So everything was going great and Gerard was doing a really rockin’ job at not looking at Frank’s mouth and keeping his distance and then somehow they are lying right next to each other all pressed up; shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee, fingers itching to grab onto Franks’.
“I kind of stopped believing in the ‘magic’ of Christmas, you know?” Gerard says, almost too quietly but Frank is listening, he has been listening all night.
“I never stopped. I mean I don’t believe in Santa or anything, but it is just something about Christmas that makes people…” Frank stops and tries to get the right words out “Happy. Makes them do things they wouldn’t normally do, you know? Just because it’s Christmas”
“Like in Love Actually” Gerard giggles.
“I didn’t think anyone else had actually see that” Frank kind of blushes, and the pink glows in the night and he looks really fucking pretty.
Gerard lights a Marlboro for something to do with his hands. After his first two drags he passes it to Frank who accepts it wordlessly.
When he hands it back they lock eyes and Gerard is no longer in the possession of the will power to look away. This time he actually can feel Frank’s breath tickle his skin; hot and clammy.
“Fuck” Frank breathes “I really want to fucking kiss you”
“Just because it’s Christmas” Gerard breathes right back almost just not smiling, but it is there. It’s always been there.
And then Gerard realises that he is done for. He has that whole ‘I can imagine growing old with you’ moment in his brain. He can seriously see himself falling for this boy and he is fucking done for.
All of a sudden they’re kissing. And it is really fucking beautiful and Frank tastes like eggnog and Marlboros and sweat despite the cold. It’s all hands knotted in hair and lip bitting and spit dribble and Jesus Christ is fucking perfect.
When they pull back they are left in a fit of giggles. With a peck here and a peck there, Frank whispers.
“Just because it’s Christmas”
A/N: Merry Christmas my freaky little friends. Hope you enjoyed it ObsessedKilljoy And let's all give a three cheers for dearest Hozzie for organising this!!!!
XO ALEXANDRA LACEY DAY
http://ficwad.com/author/144478
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