Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > 100 Gerard/Frank Fics
For Prompt #067
Disappear
AN: Hi y'all. I've been much too far away from everyone here. I barely write Gerard and Frank anymore, so if this seems a little uneven, that's why. I'm not used to them like I'm used to my new playthings in different bands. So, we'll see how you take this and I'll decide if it's a fandom I want to get back into or not. Many thanks from the bottom of my heart, once again.
xo
It was dark, and the beams of light that would normally be shining through the window next to them on the couch were obscured by a thick layer of condensation. The light tried in vain to pry itself through, but with little reward; the entire area was shoved violently, yet silently, into an inescapable blackness.
Gerard could feel Frank against his chest, one breath after another hitting his skin like the heat of warm coals, each whisper threatening to ignite the fire in his chest yet again. The only part of his body he could feel was the part Frank pressed himself against. The only part he could see was his hands, looking odd and even more effeminate in the limited light as he stretched them out to stroke Frank’s hair gently, barely even noticeable.
He wished he knew where the others had gone. The bus was as his mind felt, and he couldn’t quite remember what had sent everyone away in the first place. A strange backhand thought shouldered its way into his ponderings and told him that they had known what would happen, and had merely gotten out of the way of the inevitable. But the part of him that wanted to remain honest, remain faithful, told him repeatedly that none of this had been planned. It was an impulse. Impromptu. This couldn’t have been foreseen; it couldn’t have been avoided.
Of course. That was it.
Gerard’s foggy mind refused yet again to recall how he had thought the same thoughts three nights before, when Frank’s weight had felt just as metaphorical to the weight in his heart as it did just then.
No, Gerard would always forget in the dark of post-climatic blurs.
A light blinked at him blearily from the floor, a red dash, indicating that he had a missed call. He didn’t bother to reach down and pick it up, as he had recognized the ringtone the second it had gone off two hours ago. He recognized it still as it repeated in his head over and over when he chose trading answering the incoming call for the reciprocated movement of Frank’s lips against his. He recognized it now as it flashed dully up at him, as lazy and yet as unforgiving as the devil himself, embedded in ice.
He closed his eyes in an effort to block out the view, but the darkness did nothing to keep the blinking out of his sight. And the small vibrations of Frank’s phone in his pants, cast across the floor, did nothing to alleviate the growing turmoil inside of him.
God, when did it get so dark?
Frank shifted against him, and Gerard instantly knew what kind of movement that was, that quick shuffle of skin against skin, a guilty tinge to the heat, tainting any perfection they may, in a moment of wild searching, thought they had. Frank knew as well as Gerard did who those missed calls were from, and what they had been doing instead of answering them.
And now, in the darkness, the rift between them began to grow. Frank hadn’t moved away physically, but Gerard could feel the boy begin to fade away from him, and the tighter he tried to hold on, the quicker Frank slipped through his fingers. A small touch against his neck, yes, and a quick hand through his hair. Comfort. Even in the dark, Gerard could tell Frank was upset.
Gerard opened his mouth, words failing him for the first time he could even think to remember.
How long had they been doing this? How long ago since their relationship moved so quickly? How long had the bus been emptied for them? How long ago since everyone figured it out? How long ago since they decided not to leak the secret?
How long had they been liars?
How long had they been so blind to each other?
“Frank…” Gerard’s voice was torn, split in two, a simple-minded mimic of how his insides felt right about then. “Frank, look at me.”
And Frank was up, turned away from Gerard in a huddled position that advertised nothing but shame. It’s too dark for Gerard to know, but somehow, just somehow, he can feel Frank shaking, his bare neck and back a precious few feet away from his aching fingers. But everything now… everything was so dark.
“I can’t, Gerard. I can‘t see.” Frank mumbled back, head in his hands as tears leaked from his eyes. “I can’t see anything.”
Disappear
AN: Hi y'all. I've been much too far away from everyone here. I barely write Gerard and Frank anymore, so if this seems a little uneven, that's why. I'm not used to them like I'm used to my new playthings in different bands. So, we'll see how you take this and I'll decide if it's a fandom I want to get back into or not. Many thanks from the bottom of my heart, once again.
xo
It was dark, and the beams of light that would normally be shining through the window next to them on the couch were obscured by a thick layer of condensation. The light tried in vain to pry itself through, but with little reward; the entire area was shoved violently, yet silently, into an inescapable blackness.
Gerard could feel Frank against his chest, one breath after another hitting his skin like the heat of warm coals, each whisper threatening to ignite the fire in his chest yet again. The only part of his body he could feel was the part Frank pressed himself against. The only part he could see was his hands, looking odd and even more effeminate in the limited light as he stretched them out to stroke Frank’s hair gently, barely even noticeable.
He wished he knew where the others had gone. The bus was as his mind felt, and he couldn’t quite remember what had sent everyone away in the first place. A strange backhand thought shouldered its way into his ponderings and told him that they had known what would happen, and had merely gotten out of the way of the inevitable. But the part of him that wanted to remain honest, remain faithful, told him repeatedly that none of this had been planned. It was an impulse. Impromptu. This couldn’t have been foreseen; it couldn’t have been avoided.
Of course. That was it.
Gerard’s foggy mind refused yet again to recall how he had thought the same thoughts three nights before, when Frank’s weight had felt just as metaphorical to the weight in his heart as it did just then.
No, Gerard would always forget in the dark of post-climatic blurs.
A light blinked at him blearily from the floor, a red dash, indicating that he had a missed call. He didn’t bother to reach down and pick it up, as he had recognized the ringtone the second it had gone off two hours ago. He recognized it still as it repeated in his head over and over when he chose trading answering the incoming call for the reciprocated movement of Frank’s lips against his. He recognized it now as it flashed dully up at him, as lazy and yet as unforgiving as the devil himself, embedded in ice.
He closed his eyes in an effort to block out the view, but the darkness did nothing to keep the blinking out of his sight. And the small vibrations of Frank’s phone in his pants, cast across the floor, did nothing to alleviate the growing turmoil inside of him.
God, when did it get so dark?
Frank shifted against him, and Gerard instantly knew what kind of movement that was, that quick shuffle of skin against skin, a guilty tinge to the heat, tainting any perfection they may, in a moment of wild searching, thought they had. Frank knew as well as Gerard did who those missed calls were from, and what they had been doing instead of answering them.
And now, in the darkness, the rift between them began to grow. Frank hadn’t moved away physically, but Gerard could feel the boy begin to fade away from him, and the tighter he tried to hold on, the quicker Frank slipped through his fingers. A small touch against his neck, yes, and a quick hand through his hair. Comfort. Even in the dark, Gerard could tell Frank was upset.
Gerard opened his mouth, words failing him for the first time he could even think to remember.
How long had they been doing this? How long ago since their relationship moved so quickly? How long had the bus been emptied for them? How long ago since everyone figured it out? How long ago since they decided not to leak the secret?
How long had they been liars?
How long had they been so blind to each other?
“Frank…” Gerard’s voice was torn, split in two, a simple-minded mimic of how his insides felt right about then. “Frank, look at me.”
And Frank was up, turned away from Gerard in a huddled position that advertised nothing but shame. It’s too dark for Gerard to know, but somehow, just somehow, he can feel Frank shaking, his bare neck and back a precious few feet away from his aching fingers. But everything now… everything was so dark.
“I can’t, Gerard. I can‘t see.” Frank mumbled back, head in his hands as tears leaked from his eyes. “I can’t see anything.”
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