FicWad

AGAIN. I’m sorry for being a procrastinator. Here is chapter six. Love it or die like the BABIES YOU ARE…Sure, that made no sense, but the story’s good, right? Note: This is so late because not only was I out of town for several days, but I’ve also been sick. So this chapter is dedicated to everyone who has been sick this season and still had to do shit.


Confidence isn’t exactly what Gerard had. His lack of self-esteem was dug so deep that it would probably take a thousand dump trucks full of confidence to bring him up to normal speed. The makeover from Finch was probably worth about a shovel full. He was beginning to stumble over his words less when he talked to Frank, gradually looking the other boy in the eye (it started out with swift glances, the stares getting lengthier each time they spoke) instead of starring at the ground. But be that as it may, there was still this wall of fear that rose up inside his brain whenever Finch glanced at him from behind Frank’s back, mouthing the words, /”Ask him”/. His muscles tensed, his brain froze solid, whatever sentence he was currently forcing from his lips screeched to a stop and he was overcome with emotions of hot embarrassment and freezing fear. At this point, it was happening nearly every day until Finch finally got the hint that her ‘helping’ wasn’t really helping at all.

Instead, something else was happening. Frank was starting to ask questions. Little things at first; things like, ”Whatcha doing after school today?” and ”What part of town do you live in?”/. Things that didn’t register as anything. But then they got more obvious. And the fear was back. The fear that twisted his insides and made his words pile up inside his esophagus, that turned his brain to lead and made his heart feel like it was going to burst. /That fear.

The fear that was happening right now.

“I think we should hang some time.”

Gerard nearly choked on the soda he was sipping on. He did a sort of cough, sputtered, and cleared his throat.

“Huh- um, what?” He asked stupidly, swallowing the liquid in his throat audibly. Maybe he had heard wrong. Or maybe he was scared shitless of being with Frank alone. Frank did his infamous “Lean-chin-on-hand” pose, the pose that stirred up the next of wasps inside Gerard’s stomach. Frank gave Gerard a playful poke in the arm, his fingernail painted black.

“We should hang out some time,” he repeated. “You’re cool. I wanna hang some time.” Gerard swallowed and looked over to Finch, as if for an answer, who was fighting back a smile on the other side of the lunch table. Her expression clearly stated, ”Say YES”/. The strange thing was…part of his /didn’t want to. Part of him wanted to run and hide and pretend all of this had never happened. That whole thought was ridiculous, of course, as the rest of him wanted Frank so badly that he had to almost physically restrain himself every day. He starred at the ground, that familiar wave of insecurity crashing down on him again.

“Uh-I don’- um…yeah,” Gerard stammered. He knew how stupid he sounded and that he looked insecure as ever because he was starring at the ground and every bit of confidence he had gained over the past week or so was draining away, leaving the scared, self-conscious boy he had been before. He looked up in time to see Frank raise an eyebrow in confusion.

“Was that a yes…or a no?/” he asked. Gerard squirmed in his seat. He wanted to be with Frank…wanted it desperately and painfully and with all of his heart and body and soul. But…he was so scared to go after it, so terrified of the rejection, the pain that always followed. A little voice in his head whispered, /”But is he worth it?” There was no answer. He suddenly felt Finch kick him under the table, jerking him back into the horrifying, humiliating reality he had grown so accustomed to.

He ran a hand through his raven hair. “Y-Yeah,” he stuttered. He took a breath in order to regain his ability to speak. “Yeah, I wanna do that…too.” He wanted to slap himself. Frank laid his head down on the table and smiled up at him. Gerard bit his lip. God damn he looked good today. He looked good every day, but today Gerard was internally driven wild by how fucking beautiful this human being was. Over the past few weeks, Frank’s hair had been growing out. He obviously had not taken the time to dye it back to its unusual colors because Gerard could see that the roots were turning a light brown. Strands of wild hair hung in his eyes and stuck out of the sides of the black beanie he was wearing, his ear lobes exposed, revealing a black gauge. And, as always, his outfit was fitted tightly to his body, his hands covered with black fingerless gloves. Gerard didn’t know if what he felt at the moment was love or lust but, God damn it, all he wanted to do was grab that incarnate of sex, pin him down, and do some wonderfully illegal things to him. He didn’t care that they were in the cafeteria, fuck, everyone could watch for all he cared.

Frank snapped his fingers in front of Gerard’s blank expression. The boy with rave hair twitched back to life.

“You okay there?” Frank asked. The concern in his voice made Gerard’s heart flutter. He felt like a school girl. Gerard blinked, his attention completely on Frank now. Frank smiled at him. “You’ve been starring at me for like, five minutes.”

“Oh, sorry…” Gerard apologized. He watched Frank for a moment, entranced by the way the light came through the window above them and shined off his pale skin, catching in his eyes and illuminating the bright green. Those eyes were so intense that he could see nothing but that beautiful jade color for what seemed like hours. Nothing else mattered. He saw Frank part his perfect lips as if he was going to say something…and the bell rang. The screech permeated his thoughts, broke their stare. Gerard tore his gaze away and reached for his backpack. When he sat up again, Frank was literally inches from his face. He could feel the gentle, warm breath against his mouth, smell the scent of cigarettes and cologne. He could see the red eyeliner that made his green eyes so dramatic and beautiful that it seemed as though they had been cut from some more ethereal reality and pasted to his face.

”Oh…” was the only sound Gerard could make. It came out soft and quiet and breathy. He wondered if Frank had even heard it.

“So…” Said Frank in almost a whisper. “I’ll…call you later…” Gerard nodded habitually. He didn’t know what this meant. It could mean that Frank was flirting with him. It could mean he was toying with him, playing with his emotions they way everybody else had. It was possible that someone had told him about how he felt. No…Finch was the only one who knew…but what if she let something slip? It had happened before. And he would get his hopes up only to have them come crashing down again. Or it could be nothing. It’s equally possible that Frank just is the kind of person who likes to be close to people. He could be hoping and praying for nothing.

Frank moved away and grabbed his things. He stood up and walked behind Gerard, who hadn’t moved.

“Bye, Finch,” he called, holding up his hand in a wave as he walked away. “Bye, Gee.” He left the room, along with the crowd of students. Gerard hugged his backpack and bit down on is lip. Finch grabbed her things and sat down beside him.

“What’s wrong?” She asked softly. “I would have thought you’d be ecstatic. He almost kissed you back there.” Gerard shook his head.

“He /didn’t/,” he muttered. “He’s playing with me. Just like every other guy. If they didn’t run away after they found out, they played with me until…” He leaned his head on his backpack. Finch put her arm on his shoulder.

“No!” She protested. “He’s different! I can tell! He just…I don’t know. He’s different than the rest. He doesn’t know you’ve been hurt before.” Gerard lifted his head up, his shaggy hair in his face.

“I don’t feel well,” he grumbled, standing up. “I’m going home.”

Finch watched him walk out of the cafeteria. She wondered how much more strain her friend could take.

---

By the time Gerard had made his way into the basement where his room was and sat himself down on his disorganized bed, he was practically sobbing. He felt like an idiot for crying and he wanted to stop but he couldn’t/…the pain came in waves, coming like punches to the stomach. This always fucking /happened! He was head over heels in love with someone who would never love him back. And there had been hope…a tiny, almost invisible ray of hope shining through the pitch black darkness. After all the pain and loneliness there had been salvation and now it was being torn away from him and all he could do was sit there and watch it happen.

Something inside him whispered that he didn’t know if Frank didn’t love him, that he was overreacting.

Something else inside him hissed /What the fuck do you know?/. This voice made more sense. He had been in love before with people who would never feel the same way. He watched them move on, his insides hot with envy as they kissed their girlfriends and held their hands and told them how much they loved them. He would tug at his hair and claw at his skin and scream into the thick blankets of his bed “/WHY DON’T YOU LOVE ME?!/” while the tears stung his eyes and his arms bled and the rest of his family slept peacefully the rooms above him. It was the only thing he knew how to do.

There was a dresser by his bed. He reached a trembling, pale hand out and opened the drawer. He pushed passed old notebooks, pens, pencils, drawings he had made, before his finger tips felt the cool metal against their skin. The picked it up gently with his thumb and forefinger. It was about an inch long. It was beginning to dull from usage, but it was still sharp and shiny and useful.

Gerard was sobbing hard now, thanking whatever God there was that nobody was home to hear him. What he was doing to himself was wrong in the eyes of everyone he knew, even people who did the same thing. It stung at first, but then it was warm. The pain was ebbing away. He felt good.

And yet…it wasn’t enough. It was odd, seeing at it only took a few tries to make the hurt he felt disappear. But there was still the longing. The longing for Frank’s approval, his love, his touch, everything he wanted to desperately. So he grabbed the cool, shiny tool and went to work again. He knew what he wanted this time. It was perfect. The perfect little reminder so that he would never forget how much he loved Frank. And every day he would look at it remember.

When he was done, he was emotionally drained. He didn’t go back to school.

That night, he starred at his work and cried until his pillows were wet and he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next day he wore long sleeves.

The next day Finch starred at him, then his clothed arms.

The next day she tugged him into a dark corner and pulled up his sleeves.

The next day the word ”Frankie” was carved into his arm.