Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > The Seven Days of Christmas

On the Seventh Day of Christmas Part II

by ilovemikey 4 reviews

The last section of the last day... wow. By the way, I only own the storyline. 'Kay? =]

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Romance - Characters: Bob Bryar,Frank Iero,Gerard Way,Mikey Way,Ray Toro - Published: 2008-03-28 - Updated: 2008-03-28 - 6279 words

However it may come across, Ryan was an outside type of guy. He liked the views – not just countryside views, but any kind of landscape. He was even considering taking up painting, but that was still undecided. Still, either way he was always taken aback by nature, in whatever form, and he liked to have a look around wherever he was.
Realising that he hadn’t yet seen the view around the Acoustic Christmas site and that this was their last day on it, he decided to go for a short walk up the only proper hill for a long way around and have a quick look. Reaching the top he smiled at the prize for climbing the hill - a view of groups of small towns clustered across the landscape and interconnected by winding roads, a typical countryside. On the other side of the hill, he reasoned, must be New York City. He decided to walk around the top of the hill, just to get the view from all sides.
It took him five minutes maximum to get round, including several pauses to admire the sprawling city and surrounding land, but somehow, when he returned to his original spot, William Beckett was there waiting for him.
God knows how he’d gotten there so quickly, and yet as he leaned with his back against a tree and his arms folded, gazing out at the horizon, he looked perfect. He wasn’t even slightly out of breath and not a single hair was out of place, instead they were framing his face perfectly as if he had just spent an hour in front of a mirror. His eyes, which matched the soft brown of his hair, seemed even larger than usual, and they stood out strikingly against his pale skin, which was almost glowing in the few gentle rays of sunlight falling against him.
Even standing in the position he was in he looked graceful. His limbs were exceptionally long; but not in a lanky way which made his movement awkward, in an elegant way in which they flowed smoothly. His legs were made to look even longer by the black drainpipes and cowboy boots he wore, and despite only wearing a plain v-neck tee shirt he didn’t seem at all cold.
He looked different to Ryan’s original mental image. He was beauty in simplicity, he was stunningly captivating. He was perfect. And that scared Ryan shitless.
“Bill, what are you doing here?”
“It’s not Bill anymore. Will, or William, just not Bill.” Will’s words seemed to dance off his tongue as he spoke. He looked at Ryan. “How are you?”
“Will.” Ryan tried out. The word felt strange in his mouth, softer and gentler than Bill. Confused as to why Will had changed his name and taken aback by how it seemed to change him, he felt his fear fade a little and turn to curiosity.
“Why Will?”
“It’s just so much… nicer than Bill.” Will shrugged. “I felt it was time for a change.”
“You look… different.” said Ryan. It was true, he couldn’t put his finger on it but something had changed about Will, just in his presence, he seemed fuller somehow.
“Well, I’ve stopped drinking so much; it’s not a problem for me anymore. I can see and think more clearly now. I’ve left Bill behind.”
“Congratulations!” smiled Ryan, relaxing in Will’s charm and seriously wondering if he had maybe become a new person with regrets for his past.
“Anyway,” Bill continued, “I wanted to see you again. I'm assuming you didn’t get either of my messages. And I will admit, I am a bit disappointed about that.
Fear gripped Ryan once again as he remembered the encounter he had had with Will the day before, and he questioned in disgust how he had held a conversation with him, even only for a minute.
As Ryan changed, so Will seemed to with him. When Ryan went from easy going to terrified out of his mind, Will went from charming and polite to quietly lethal. He sauntered over to Ryan and placed one hand on his chest.
“You see Ryan, I asked you nicely to call me. Twice.”
His hand balled into a fist, grabbing a handful of Ryan’s hoodie and pulling the frightened man close to him so their faces were inches apart.
“And you know what? You didn’t.” Will’s voice was still very reasonable, as if he was just having a casual discussion about with Ryan about why he had failed to reply and wasn’t all that bothered. Ryan was bewildered by how his actions told completely the opposite story.
“I don’t think that’s very polite, do you?” Ryan swallowed and nodded, like a school child who had just been told off by their teacher and had no choice but to agree to how impolite they were or they’d get a detention. Except Ryan would get beaten up, which was somewhat more dangerous than writing lines.
“I’m sorry.” he whispered.
Will pushed him up against the tree he had previously been resting against, cupping his face in the process.
“I wanted to see you Ryan, that’s all.” Will started stroking Ryan’s cheek as he spoke.
“And you of all people should know that I get what I want.”
Ryan shuddered at the inside meaning lying behind Will’s words, just for him. Knowing that he was the only one who understood it, that they had a link that no one else was part of, made him feel isolated, disgusted and terrified.
“How come you’re here?” he asked, failing to disguise the shake in his voice.
“Because you’re here.” Will replied. “The Academy Is… are on a Christmas break in L.A. and I thought I’d catch up with you. And you’re not exactly hard to find. You leave a pretty big trail wherever you go.”
Ryan tried to turn his head away, but Will’s strong grip kept it firmly in place. Instead he closed his eyes, hoping that maybe, when he opened them again, Will would be gone.
“Babe, look at me.” Said Will.
Ryan flinched at the use of the word ‘babe’, but other than that he remained motionless.
“Look at me.” Will demanded again, his voice going low, quiet and deadly; enough to make Ryan’s eyes fly back open.
“Better. Now, why are you making this so hard? I wanted to meet up, you didn’t call, I had to come and find you. Now you won’t even make eye contact with me. You do this to yourself you know. If you had simply called, I wouldn’t be so angry. As it is, I’m livid.
Will moved his hand down from Ryan’s cheek and rested it gently around his neck – a threat that for the time being was harmless, but was a constant reminder for Ryan to tread very carefully.
“So, Ryan. For the sake of being Will and not Bill, I’ll give you one last chance to make life easier for yourself. Are you going to cooperate?”
As he spoke he applied just a hint of pressure against Ryan’s throat. For such a subtle movement, its warning was loud and clear – this was no multiple choice question. Ryan nodded.
With that, Will crashed his mouth against Ryan’s. And since any move he made would have resulted in him being strangled, Ryan had no choice but to let him.


When Mikey had found Brendon, Jon and Spencerand learned from them that Ryan had gone off for a walk, he had to question why fate had to screw around with their lives and give them such bad timing. Resigning himself to the fact that he was going to have to go on a Ryan hunt, he gritted his teeth and prepared himself to spend a long time searching.
He was pleasantly surprised at how little time it took. Being a sensible man with a good head on his shoulders, he decided to start by climbing the nearby hill next to the dressing rooms, his reason being that from the highest point he would be able to see furthest around and so find Ryan quicker.
Going up the hill was useful, but not for the reason he thought it would be. Because when he got to the top he found Ryan. Being pinned against a tree, kissed and strangled by another man.
The general reaction to a situation like this would be something along the lines of ‘why is my boyfriend cheating on me with that man?’. Mikey’s, however, was more along the lines of ‘who is that son of a bitch and what is he doing to Ryan?’
“What the fuck?” was the way he chose to phrase it. “Who the fuck are you and what the fuck are you doing?”
The man kissing Ryan didn’t take his hand away from his neck, but he did turn his head to see who had interrupted them. Mikey quickly took in his appearance, Ryan’s terrified expression and the position they were in, and something clicked in his mind.
“Wait. You have to be Bill Beckett.”
“Will, actually.” Will didn’t smile as he introduced himself. Clearly he wasn’t very happy at being disrupted, even though his voice and words were polite enough. “And who are you?”
“Mikey Way. Now what are you doing?”
“Mikey Way… I’ve heard of you. Well it’s a pleasure to meet you Mikey, but if you’ll excuse me I’m a little busy at the moment.” Will said, completely ignoring Mikey’s question.
“Yeah, I can see that.” Said Mikey, his voice turning hard. “That’s why I asked - what are you doing to my boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend?” Will questioned Ryan, turning back round to face him. “Have you been going off with other men?”
“Obviously.” Mikey cut in. “Now if you’d be so kind as to please get your hands off him, we’d both be very grateful.”
“Ryan, I’m disappointed.” said Will, continuing to ignore Mikey, which made the bassist absolutely furious.
“Let him go you basta(/e?)rd!” He spat, striding over to Will and grabbing his wrist to try and prize his hand off Ryan’s neck.
“Oh, we’re getting violent now, are we?” Wil smirked, turning his attention back to Mikey. Mikey respoded by punching him in the face, hard enough to make him lose his balance and fall backwards.
Will gazed up at him with shocked eyes, holding his hand ot his cheek, where a considerable bruise was already beginning to form. He the one wasn’t meant to be getting hit! Snarling so softly it could barely be heard, he stood back up and threw a punch at Mikey, who caught Will’s arm in his hand and blocked it. They wrestled for a few seconds, until Will escaped Mikey’s grasp and they both backed off a couple of steps, breathing heavily.
Ryan’s image of Will had always been a drunken brute whose words were slurred and punches were violent. That was his terrifying factor, his physical strength. Ryan had never held an intelligent conversation with him, mainly because his mind was always dulled by alcohol.
It was different now. Will’s words were quick and sharp, cutting deep into the mind. In the absence of alcohol his brain had returned to him, and it was definitely a force to be reckoned with. However, the influence of the drink had made him stronger. Now that the drink had gone, his extra physical strength had gone with it. And while in general his mind was worth mor to him than how hard he could hit, this particular battle required strength, not wit. Strength which he now lacked.
Mikey, on the other hand, had only ever been addicted to coffee, never alcohol. In fact, he hardly ever drank it. As a result, his mind and his strength were more even. Whilst he didn’t have the most brilliant thinking power in the universe, he was still pretty smart, and despite not having amazing physical fitness, he was still fairly strong. Strong enough to have the advantage over Will.
Still, he was sporting one or two reasonable sized bruises that he had gained as the fight had progressed. While Will was weaker, he was no pushover. Mikey gritted his teeth and perpared to attack again. This time Will dodged his punch, and hit him instead. His head snapped to the side with the force, and seconds later the anticipated pain flowed into his face as it smarted angrily.
Although, that wasn’t entirely a bad thing, because with pain comes adrenaline, which Mikey was now filled with. His senses were heightened to new extents – everything seemed crystal clear; in brighter colour and perfect focus, his and Will’s harsh breath echoed in his ears and he was suddenly aware of the gentle breeze brushing lightly against his face.
This time he attacked, he hit his target. Will recoiled slightly, giving Mikey the oppertunity to punch again. This one landed on Will’s temple and the long limbed man stumbled back a couple of steps, dazed and dizzy. Mikey continued to advance and he retreate again, clutchign his head.
It was at this point that Ryan, (who had been rooted to the spot as he watched the fight, enthralled,) relised that he had regained the use of his legs. As Will moved towards him, he kicked the back of the singer’s knee with all the force he could muster. And whilst he didn’t have a violent nature, it felt good. As if it was a vent for all the fright and painWill had ever caused him, or a way of repayment for how Will had ruined a large portion his life.
Will’s knee jarred forward as Ryan kicked it, and he fell clumsily forwards onto the ground.
It was after hurting someone that Ryan would usually have stopped and wondered why he had lost his temper enough to be violent, and if it was worth it. This time though, the thought didn’t even cross his mind. He allowed his thoughts to stop and his body to take control – punching, kicking, hitting Will like a crazed man.
Mikey’s voice was battering against the invisible barrier Ryan had erected around his mind.
“Ryan babe, it’s okay, you can stop now.” This time Mikey rested a hand on Ryan’s shoulder as he spoke in an attempt to hold him still
That broke through.
Ryan looked up at Mikey with a ‘huh?’ type expression, and followed the basist’s gaze t see Will – lying on the ground, clearly unconscious, with a small trickle of blood running down from his nose and his bottom lip beginning to swell up.
His senses returned to him at that sight, and the realisation of what he had done slammed into him, knocking the air from his lungs. He stared at Will’s silent boy in horror and disgust.
“What the hell have I done?” he muttered. His head turned sharply to Mikey.
“Why didn’t you stop me?” he asked, his voice rising.
“Why did you let me do that?” By now Ryan was almost hysterical – his eyes were mad and his arms were flailing. “Look! Look at what I did! How could you just watch?”
Mikey stepped over to Ryan and embraced him, holding on tightly and restraining Ryan as the guitarist struggled against him. He kept still and quiet until Ryan had calmed down and stopped fighting, and then he spoke.
“Don’t you dare say that. You only knocked him put, he’s not damaged. He deserved it, and you know it.
“But… but… I only knocked him out? I knocked him out! Look at him!” Ryan protested.
“Ryan, if what you were doing was wrong, I would have stopped you.” Mikey promised. “But it wasn’t. Think of everything he’s done to you. And through you to me and Spencer, and all the others. If you hadn’t knocked him out, I would have anyway. Don’t regret it.”
What are we going to do now though? We can’t just leave him there.” Ryan looked back down at the man sprawled out o the ground.
“Unfortunately, you’re right.” Mikey walked over to Will. “Does he have a mobile?”
Ryan nodded.
Mikey knelt down beside Will and felt first into his jacket pockets, and then into his jeans pockets, where he found Will’s phone. He pulled it out and flipped it open, scrolling through the contacts until he found ‘Siska’. Pressing the call button, he waited for someone to answer.
“Hello, is that Adam? Good. Okay, I believe you know William Beckett? Yeah, you may need to come and find him. You know where the Acoustic Christmas was held? Right, come to there, and he’s on the only hill around for ages. Sure. Oh yeah, you might want to be quick because he’s unconscious. No, don’t panic, just come. Right. Bye.”
Mikey flipped the phone closed and put it back in Will’s pocket.
“Alright, we don’t need to worry about him; Siska’s coming to pick him up.”
“How come you’re so rational?” Ryan asked, cocking his head to one side as he looked at Mikey. “I just knocked someone out, and you know exactly what to do.” He grinned. “I bet you’ve done this before.”
“Yeah,” Mikey smirked, “I do this all the time. Come on, let’s go.”
He started to head off, but Ryan caught his arm and stopped him.
“By the way, thank you.”
“No worries.” Mikey smiled.
“No, really. He’d made what was meant to be the best part of my life a living nightmare. This means so much to me. He… I don’t know how to say it. But you saved my ass. Thank you, so much.”
“In that case, you’re welcome and I'm glad I could help you.
Mikey wrapped his arm around Mikey’s waist and they walked off, enjoying a peaceful and somewhat satisfied silence.


The extent of Brian’s planning skills in a short space of time turned out to be a few pizzas, coffee, and various other kinds of food and drink, eaten out on a field, picnic style. Grand it certainately wasn’t, but the assembled members of Panic! At The Disco, 30 Seconds to Mars and My Chemical Romance still had a great time.
After a sort while tour stories, acting stories, stage movements and tips, email addresses and phone numbers had been exchanged, the food had been devoured (well, there were fourteen hungry men eating), and the bands wound down again to lie back on the grass and chat aimlessly.
To everyone’s surprise, it was Ray who broke the sleepy, lethargic mood with a very out of character suggestion that just went to show how much Frank must be rubbing off on him.
“Anyone fancy playing Splat?”
“Splat?” Matt voiced the thoughts in most of the other mens’ heads as they stared at Ray in disbelief. “What the hell is Splat?”
Frank, Ryan, Brendon, Jon and Spencer, however, perked up at the mention of the game.
“Splat.” Said Brendon, as if the word itself was the extremely obvious answer to a question that would only be asked by the village idiot. “The game?”
30 Seconds To Mars, Gerard, Mikey, Bob and Brian stared blankly back at him.
“God, how old are you guys getting?” Frank sighed, shaking his head. Ignoring the protests that followed his words, he continued.
“Okay. So you all stand in a circle and there’s someone in the middle. The person in the middle points at someone in the circle and says ‘Splat!’. The person they pointed at ducks, then the two people they’re between have to ‘splat’ each other. If you get ‘splatted’, you’re out and you sit down.
Amongst the confused faces, understanding was beginning to dawn on Jared’s.
“Hey, I think I remember this. Then the last two go back to back, right?”
“Yeah, that’s it!” cheered Ray.
Jared grinned and looked round at the rest of his uncomprehending band.
“I’ve played this before. It’s used in acting to sharpen the reflexes.” He explained.
“Okay… um, could we have the rules again?” asked Gerard.
“Let’s just show them, it’ll be quicker and easier.” Jon chuckled. He stood up, pulling Spencer up with him. Frank and Brendon jumped up too, with Ray, Jared and Ryan following shortly after.
“Shotgun in the middle!” Ray called as the others arranged themselves in a circle around him. All seven men formed guns with their hands, and Ray began to rotate slowly, his face impassive.
“Splat!” he suddenly cried out, shooting Ryan with his pretend gun and making his spectators jump.
Ryan immediately ducked, and Jared and Spencer, (who were standing next to him, turned to each other), both shouting ‘Splat!’ as they shot. It was extremely close timing, but Jared was a second quicker than Spencer.
“See, Spencer lost by a millisecond there, so he would sit down. That’s all there is to it. You get it?”
“Kinda.” Mikey laughed. “Come on, let’s give it a try.”
He, Brian and Gerard got up happily, and after some persuasion Bob did too. Shannon, Matt and Tomo were ever so slightly apprehensive, but they joined the circle too.
“Okay, we’ll have a couple of practice rounds then start. Sound good?” Ray asked. Not waiting for a response, he pointed at Tomo, calling, “Splat!”
Tomo’s eyes widened and he ducked as quickly as he could, leaving Matt and Shannon standing either side of him. It took a second for Shannon to register, and then he turned to Matt, pointing and shouting “Splat!”
Matt looked at him, pulling a face that clearly said ‘Eh?’
Ray laughed.
“Nicely done Shannon. Matt, you’re meant to do what he did. Although, strictly speaking, it didn’t count because Shannon, you didn’t use The Gun.
“What?” Shannon protested, quickly forming his hands into a gun.
“Okay, let’s try again. Splat!”
This time Mikey was ducking and Ryan and Gerard were shooting each other, their voices ringing out at exactly the same time. It was impossible to pick out who was first or last.
“Nice one guys! That’s a draw. Looks like you’re gonna be good at this. Let’s go for real this time. Splat!”
The game continued.
“Splat!” Bob was out.
“Splat!” Matt was out.
“Splat!” Shannon sat down.
“Splat!” Brendon pouted as he sat.
“Splat!” Mikey joined the small group sitting on the ground.
“Splat!” Gerard was out too.
“Splat!” Brian sat down.
“Splat!” Tomo was out.
“Splat!” Spencer was too.
“Splat!” Frank sat down, leaving Ray, Jon and Jared.
“Splat!” Now it was just Jared and Jon.
“Okay, sweet.” Ryan grinned. “Now I’ll move and you two stand back to back in the middle. Right. Okay, when I say a vegetable, you take one step forwards. When I say a fruit, you shoot. Got it? Great. Carrot!”
One step was taken. A tense silence fell over the game as the other looked on with bated breath.
“Cauliflower?” Frank mumbled. “Where did that come from?” He was quickly shushed.
Another step forward.
Another step.
Jon and Jared whipped around, hair flying out, and yelled “Splat!”
Someone had spoken first, just by a fraction of a second, but it was hard to tell who. The whole group collectively held their breath and turned to Ray for a verdict. After a moment of careful consideration, the afro haired man made a decision.
“Gentlemen, and those who aren’t quite sure of their gender, I give you the winner of the first Acoustic Christmas game of Splat – Jon Walker!”
A second of shocked silence rippled around the circle before enthusiastic applause and cheering broke out. Jon smiled – embarrassed at the sudden attention but extremely pleased with himself – as Ryan, Spencer and Brendon bombarded him with congratulations, hugs and claps on the back.
Jared, ever the good sport, squeezed past them to shake Jon’s hand, and then he left them to it. Gerard sidled up to him, smirking.
“Wow, something you didn’t win! We’ll have to get the magazines to interview you about it.” he teased, taking Jared’s hand and twining their fingers together.
“Watch it.” Jared warned, raising one eyebrow as he looked down at Gerard. “You know, if it was anyone other than you, I’d be one very unhappy man.”
“Yup!” Gerard grinned back up at him.
Jared smiled, shaking his head.
“Games really do bring out the child in you, don’t they?
“Yeah, but you love it.” Gerard said, his grin still in place.
Jared kissed the end of the blond haired man’s nose.
“Can’t deny that I do.”
“Alright guys!” Frank shouted across the noise. “Who’s up for game two?”


Jon won the next game. And the next. And the one after that. By then it had become pretty clear that he was going to win them all, so they finished off and cleared up. Then they retreated to their dressing rooms to do and final packing before they got locked out and Brendon’s power balls were lost forever, before finally assembling for the last time in the coach park.
While it wasn’t all tears and drama, there was a sad feeling hanging over them all as they exchanged final jokes about the vast collection of memories that had gathered over the week. This went on for a while, until Brian decided it was time for him to make a mini speech.
“Alright everyone!” he called, standing on the steps into the My Chemical Romance coach so he could be seen better. “Your attention please!”
The talking paused as all eyes turned to him.
“I’d just like to say thanks to everyone for an amazing and unforgettable week that really will be sticking with me forever – you’re all amazing guys and it’s been a pleasure to spend the time with you.
There were some woops and cheers from his audience.
“Thank you very much. Anyway, top business – give it ten more minutes and then we really should be getting out of here, sorry. Enjoy them!”
With that he jumped down and struck up a conversation with Shannon. Jon, Spencer, and Ray took that as their cue to casually shepherd the group away and give Mikey and Ryan and Gerard and Jared a bit more personal space.
Mikey took Ryan’s hand and they walked off to a slightly more private corner of the coach park. He stopped and just looked at Ryan, letting the silence speak and taking a moment to memorise every detail of his face.
“You’re perfect.” He breathed, reaching one hand up to stroke gently against Ryan’s cheek. Ryan blushed lightly.
“Far from it. But when I get there, I’ll let you know.” He smiled. They both laughed quietly. Mikey pulled Ryan closer and rested his arms around the guitarist’s waist. Ryan put his arms round Mikey’s neck and leaned in so their noses were toughing.
“I can’t believe that a week ago I’d never even met you.” This time Ryan broke the silence, speaking quietly so as to not break the peace that had settled.
“Yeah.” Mikey laughed softly. “It feels like I’ve known you for so much longer.” He paused and closed his eyes for a few seconds and taking a seep breath before opening them again.
“George Ryan Ross, you are the most beautiful and amazing man I’ve ever met. This week had probably been one of the best of my life – and it’s all down to you. So thank you.”
Ryan filled with warmth, starting in his chest and spreading through his body, until he was almost certain Mikey could feel it radiating off him.
“I love you. So much.” He replied. And while it was shorted and simpler than what Mikey had said, it held just as much depth.
Mikey smiled, the special smile that he didn’t realise he reserved only for Ryan, which the younger man couldn’t keep himself from returning. They were too caught up in each other to notice Jon awkwardly approaching.
“Uh, guys?” he began tentatively, clearly embarrassed to have walked in on such an intimate moment. “I really hate to be the one who has to say this, but we’ve gotta go. Sorry.”
“We’ll be right there.” Said Ryan, unable to tear his eyes away from Mikey’s face. Jon nodded and walked away as quickly as he could without actually running.
“It’s not fair,” said Mikey. “A week isn’t long enough.” He leaned forward, pressing their lips together gently for a few seconds, before breaking off again and returning to the depth of Ryan’s eyes.
“Come on, we’d better go.” Ryan sighed, reluctance saturation his every word.
“You’re right.” Mikey unhooked his arms from Ryan’s waist and held his hand instead. Finger and souls intertwined, they rejoined the others.


Gerard never had been big on punctuality. Jared, ever the chalk to Gerard’s cheese, hated being late. Right now, however, he couldn’t care less. Having just received the same summons from Jon as Mikey and Ryan, they decided to ignore it and carry on with their chosen way of saying goodbye – making out. Jared, having realised that they only had as many minutes left as they could keep the others hanging around for, decided not to waste time talking and instead pulled Gerard away behind a coach and engaged him in an extremely passionate kiss.
Gerard hadn’t complained.
It had only taken a minute for them both to be hot, flushed and sweaty.
“Jared.” Gerard began, pulling away with obvious effort.
“Hmm?” Jared’s voice was distracted as he continued to place kisses over Gerard’s face and neck. He bit Gerard’s bottom lip and pulled on it gently. Despite not wanting to, Gerard pushed him of so he could speak.
“I love you.”
“I love you too babe,” Jared said, pausing his advances for a minute. Crystal blue depths met gleaming hazel as he locked his gaze with Gerard’s. “And you’re amazing and brilliant. And you know I’m always one for words, but right now we have minutes left and I can think of several other things I’d rather be doing. You get me?”
Gerard smirked in reply and fisted his hands in Jared’s shirt, bringing their lips together once more. In a move that surprised both him and Jared, he pushed the older man roughly against the coach and deepened the kiss with an overwhelming sense of urgency.
Jared couldn’t stop his eyebrows raising at Gerard’s rare attempt at dominance, and he smiled fondly against the younger man’s mouth.
Brian’s voice cracked like a whip through the atmosphere, shattering the moment.
“Gerard! Get your ass in this coach, we need to leave!”
Gerard and Jared broke apart like startled deer caught in headlights, Jared craning his neck to see of anyone was going to physically intrude. Realising they weren’t going to be disturbed by anything other than Brian’s voice, he gave Gerard a quick nod of reassurance and then rested against the coach with his head against his arms. Gerard also slumped back against the coach, muttering something along the lines of ‘wish that bastard wouldn’t do that.’
Jared chuckled, but he lacked the drive to actually say anything, so for a few seconds the only sound was their heavy breathing – perfectly in time – as they collected their thoughts and re orientated themselves.
“I guess we’d better go.” Said Gerard, leaning his head back and looking at the sky. Jared took the beautifully presented opportunity to move, and, in doing so, brush his hand ever so slightly against Gerard’s crotch.
“Fuck, Jared!” Gerard cried in surprise, looking sharply back at Jared. “Shock a guy, why don’t ya?”
“Ah, but you know you loved it.” Jared smirked. Gerard scrutinised the all too familiar facial expression and something clicker in his mind.
“Hang on he began. “Did you so that to get a reaction… because I did something decisive and you felt like you’re position of control was being threatened?” He paused, looking at Jared. “That’s it, isn’t it?”
“It works.” Jared shrugged, not at all embarrassed or trying to deny it. He reached over and grabbed Gerard’s crotch again.
“Hey!” Gerard bucked his hips involuntarily. “There are other ways to get round that problem; you don’t have to recycle methods. Last time we went through control issues was enough for me thanks.”
“Oh yeah!” Jared laughed. “You were all pissed off ‘cause I found out about you and Mikey, and then through pretending I was going to jerk you off I got you to admit how you desperately need me and cant live without me.”
“Not quite, drama king. Anyway, you found me and Mikey hot. That’s just as bad as you made us out to be.” Gerard defended.
Jared smiled again and, against he younger man’s protests, ruffled Gerard’s hair. Gerard glared jokingly, and then hesitated a few seconds before voicing something he obviously really wanted to say but he didn’t quite know how to.
“I should have known you were just pretending then. I really thought you were gonna… you know. That why I said… ‘cause I wanted you to…” he broke off, squirming uncomfortably and cautiously raising his eyes to meet Jared’s. “Would you… would you do it now?”
Jared was a bit shocked at Gerard’s request, but he smiled at the self conscious way the blond man had posed the question.
“Aww, babe, are you still awkward talking about that kind of thing?”
Gerard’s cheeks reddened, but he held Jared’s gaze defiantly. Jared sighed, his voice turning serious.
“I want to.” He said. “I want to so much. But at the same time, I feel like I can’t. This is going to sound so patronising, but the fact that you can’t talk about it directly makes me feel that you’re not ready. I want to preserve what little innocence we have left, you know? Besides,” his voice became light and playful once more, “it’s another reason for us to meet up again, and soon. Yeah?”
Gerard felt rather crushed and a bit humiliated, but no where as near as bad as he had thought it might have been, and he could see the sense in Jared’s words.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He said. “As per usual.”
Jared just laughed softly; glad that Gerard hadn’t become hugely offended, and kissed him.
“GERARD!” Brian’s voice once again interrupted them, sending the atmosphere away as effectively as if he’d just squirted them with silly string. “WE ARE LEAVING! NOW!”
Gerard reluctantly pulled away from Jared sighing.
“Suppose we’d better go.” He said, pulling a face.
“Yeah, I’ve probably pissed my guys off by now as well.” Jared agreed. He took Gerard’s hand and they walked back round to the main coach park, where Panic! At The Disco’s coach was just pulling out on to the road.
Gerard stopped and kissed Jared one final time.
“So.” He said. “We are going to meet up again very, very soon. Okay?”
“You bet.” Jared smiled. He kissed Gerard on the cheek and squeezed his hand before turning and running towards the 30 Seconds To Mars coach. Gerard walked over to his own coach and was greeted with a
“Finally! Now get in and let’s go before we get a major parking fine for overstaying!”
Grinning, he got in and sat down next to Mikey. A faint revving sound was heard as the 30 Seconds To Mars coach started to drive out of the coach park. Very shortly the noise of the My Chemical Romance coach was added to it, and they followed closely behind.
Gerard twisted round in his seat to see out the window, watching the grounds shrink till they were just a spot in the distance. He grinned and nodded at the horizon, murmuring quietly,
“Until next year.”
And then he turned back round as they drove away from 2006’s KROQ Acoustic Christmas.

On the Seven Days of Christmas, Ficwad gave to me:

Seven bags of washing,
Six rounds of computer games,
Five Happy Meals,
Four fluorescent power balls,
Three blossoming romances,
Two violent punch ups…

…and one hell of an Acoustic Christmas!


Final Chapter! Wow.

First, a huge apology that it’s so late. It took me ages to write, and then when I was finally done, the computer broke down. Handy, eh?

Anyhoo, thanks to all the people who commented and inspired me to write: winnie_55, xImRadx, slashandburn, pyrotechnicist, RyanRossLuver, khunwanted and especially mychemicaldream0201 and xXemoxninjaXx. You’re all stars and I love you to pieces.

Hope you enjoyed my story! (and pleasepleasepleaseplease leave a comment!)

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