Title: Teenage.Stupidity [22/24]
Author: toasty_vampire
Pairing: FeexGee!
Rating: PG
POV: Frankie's!
Summary: Gerard is a senior in high school. Frank is a freshman. The two meet in art class, and are immediately captivated by one another. But when things change, their friendship becomes unbalanced. Neither are sure what they're feeling, and in such a homophobic community, the thought of being together is almost as bad as badmouthing President Bush.
Disclaimer: Don't own. Didn't happen. Cherokee high school does exist, though, and it is my high school.
Author Notes: Seperate Author's Notes are in the chapter.
Warnings: Bahhh. Unrealistic situations, boy kissing.
Chapter.One // Chapter.Two // Chapter.Three // Chapter.Four // Chapter.Five // Chapter.Six // Chapter.Seven // Chapter.Eight // Chapter.Nine // Chapter.Ten // Chapter.Eleven // Chapter.Twelve // Chapter.Thirteen // Chapter.Fourteen // Chapter.Fifteen // Chapter.Sixteen // Chapter.Seventeen // Chapter.Eighteen // Chapter.Nineteen // Chapter.Twenty // Chapter.Twenty One

--

Author's Notes: I'm thinking about just going on an upload spree, since the last two chapters/ep should be read quickly.
Ugh, I hate this part of the story. >.o

--

On my sixteenth birthday, I shoot up out of bed and scream. It’s a Thursday, but I don’t care. I’m skipping school—not like I’m going to that school anymore. Gerard promised he’d try and get here by noon. I look at the clock—it’s ten. I guess Mom was kind enough to let me sleep in.

Today’s the court date. The last step is the judge making sure Gerard is a good “parent,” he needs to make sure at least one of my parents is okay with the emancipation, la-di-da. We’ve already talked to the judge, and he’s assured us that everyone’s going to go great. By the end of the day, Gerard and I will be in our apartment, probably eating left over Chinese or pizza.

Dad doesn’t even say bye, which miffs me. But I sigh and ignore it, hoping that maybe later, when Gerard and I’ve gotten married, he’ll be okay with it. Maybe he’ll see. Who the hell knows: Gerard and I might adopt, if we feel up to it. (We haven’t really talked about it a lot, but it has come up, and both of us have agreed that we want kids, just not quite yet.)

I have a text on my phone, which I immediately open and check out. (The service is being canceled next bill so I can switch on to Gerard’s plan.) It’s at five in the morning, from Gerard. “Be there soon,” it reads. “Ily” afterwards. I smile and check the next message—“two hours away approx—love you.”

Yawning, I walk to my closet, change my boxers, and slip some jeans on. Instead of going for completely messy, I do snatch a nice black polo with a white shirt underneath it, and a red tie. I’m somewhat fashionable when I want to be. I play with my hair in the mirror for a moment before I sigh and slip my lip ring in, grinning at my reflection before turning away.

Once I step into the kitchen, Mom looks up and smiles. “You’re awake, sleeping beauty. Gerard called, said he’ll be here in about an hour. You know our court appointment is at one thirty, and then we’ll haul your clothes into his Bug. You promise, once you can drive, you’ll come down and visit?”

I nod. I didn’t think I’d suddenly feel homesick, but that’s how I felt right now. The thought of actually leaving…it was terrifying.

But at least I’d be with Gerard; I was sure I wanted to live with Gerard. After all, Gerard is the air I breathe. Unfortunately, the time has passed when my mother took that position.

Before I really know what I’m doing, I dash over to her and hug her as tightly as I can. “I’ma miss you, Mommy,” I whisper, not even ashamed of the fact I just called her ‘Mommy.’ I fight back tears by gulping as hard as I can as her arms fold around me. Those firm, rough hands pat my back caringly, showing that she’s going to miss me quite possibly more than I’ll ever miss her. I feel water drop on my head and just know she’s crying.

“Make sure you and Gerard adopt. I don’t want to be grandchildren-less.”

I laugh, squeezing her tighter. “I’ll convince Gerard, and we’ll name him some weird French name, like Jeff, spelled ‘G-E-O-F-F,’ to accompany our French obsession.” I wag a limp wrist and she laughs. “Or if it’s a girl…we’ll name her Geoff.”

That gets mom to hug me even tighter. “Don’t lose that sense of humor,” she threatens. I scoff at her.

“Me? Lose my humor? Never, mother.”

We move to the family room and just talk, not even about anything important. I tell her about the apartment since I haven’t gotten a chance yet. I tell her about our room, how comfortable the bed is, how I love the stereo system. How that one night, the first night, we ate Chinese food on the floor. How the second time—the last time—I went, Gerard had found a small black kitten outside of his front doorstep. He had brought her and named her Batty.

Suddenly there’s a knock on the door, and I jump up. I open it and as I suspected, Gerard stands.

He looks sexy, in a cooperate-casual type of way. His hair is brushed back and recently dyed, wearing a black suit with a white tie. He grins sheepishly at me, hugging me for a moment before I lead him into the house.

I realize, this is really the first time Mom will meet Gerard.

I cough and hold Gerard’s hand, raising our entwined fingers. “Mom? This is Gerard…and Gerard, this is my Mom.”

Mom stands up and holds her hand out; Gerard lets go of me and shakes her hand. “Hello, Gerard,” mom says sweetly, hugging him. “Thanks for taking care of Frank over the past year.”

“It was my pleasure,” Gerard mumbles, his cheeks flaring. “He’s a very amazing person, Ms. Iero.”

Mom rolls her eyes and nudges me in the ribs. “What have you been feeding this poor boy? Crack?”

I laugh. “No, just some ecstasy.” Gerard snorts, somehow managing to come back to my side almost effortlessly. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and I wrap my arm around his waist.

Suddenly, Mom squeals “HOLD ON A SECOND” and runs up the stairs. Gerard and I exchange weary glances before she comes trotting back down the steps, holding Dad’s camera. I’m about to protest, saying Dad will be angry, but then I realize that I don’t really care what Dad thinks.

She snaps a quick picture. She tilts her head before smiling mischievously. “Gerard? Kiss him for me?”

I look up to see Gerard’s reaction, which is a face as red as an apple. “Uh, okay,” he stammers. He lets go of his hold on me and holds my face. The flash goes off at us, but we ignore it. He leans down and presses his lips to mine, kissing me, and I kiss him back. Mom’s going crazy with the camera. I feel like we’re getting married.

After she’s had her spasm, we huddle around and talk until one. We drive to the court and await our trial.

Needless to say, it goes smoothly. They officially announce me free to care and tend for myself, and we walk out of the court all smiles. Mom has tears in her eyes as she hugs me again, kissing the top of my head.

“Have fun with Gerard.” She looks up at Gerard and almost evil eyes him. “You take care of my little boy, you hear!? If you treat him wrong, I’ll come up and kill you personally.” She winks to show she’s kidding, which releases some of the tension that’s obvious on Gerard’s face.

“Love you, Mom,” I say thickly. I’m fighting back tears again. Shit, I didn’t think this would be so hard. As I sit in Gerard’s car, I literally wave to her car as we drive off in the opposite direction of her.

We sit in silence for a few moments before Gerard says, “She seems nice.”

I nod at her. “She really is. I’m going to miss her, a lot.”

“We can go visit,” Gerard offers. “I mean, it’s hard to get down here, but it’s not totally inaccessible. We can go down next weekend if you really need to.”

I shake my head at him. “No; I’ll go down when I’ve already planned it with her…you know, major holidays. I’ll be okay as long as I call her every now and then.” I shrug and turn my attention to the road. I kick my shoes off and plop my feet up on the dashboard, turning up the music.

Gerard just laughs at me and puts his hand on my thigh. It’s warm, even through the material of my jeans. My hand falls on top of it and he turns to smile to me. I smile back and we drive in silence.

We arrive at our apartment at about nine at night. We stopped for pizza before we got in, so we have a gigantic box of pizza that will last us at least three days in our hands.

We eat at the dining room table. As I finish, I stretch and yawn. “I’m going to bed, come on.”

Gerard raises an eyebrow at me. “Frank…I have a shitload of homework to do.”

“Oh,” I say, voice faltering. He frowns apologetically to me.

“I’ll be in later, alright? I love you.”

“Love you too,” I sigh, swooping down to kiss him lightly on the lips before disappearing into the room, slightly confused.

Title: Teenage.Stupidity [22/24]
Author: toasty_vampire
Pairing: FeexGee!
Rating: PG
POV: Frankie's!
Summary: Gerard is a senior in high school. Frank is a freshman. The two meet in art class, and are immediately captivated by one another. But when things change, their friendship becomes unbalanced. Neither are sure what they're feeling, and in such a homophobic community, the thought of being together is almost as bad as badmouthing President Bush.
Disclaimer: Don't own. Didn't happen. Cherokee high school does exist, though, and it is my high school.
Author Notes: Seperate Author's Notes are in the chapter.
Warnings: Bahhh. Unrealistic situations, boy kissing.
Chapter.One // Chapter.Two // Chapter.Three // Chapter.Four // Chapter.Five // Chapter.Six // Chapter.Seven // Chapter.Eight // Chapter.Nine // Chapter.Ten // Chapter.Eleven // Chapter.Twelve // Chapter.Thirteen // Chapter.Fourteen // Chapter.Fifteen // Chapter.Sixteen // Chapter.Seventeen // Chapter.Eighteen // Chapter.Nineteen // Chapter.Twenty // Chapter.Twenty One

--

Author's Notes: I'm thinking about just going on an upload spree, since the last two chapters/ep should be read quickly.
Ugh, I hate this part of the story. >

Title: Teenage.Stupidity [21/24]
Author: toasty_vampire
Pairing: FeexGee!
Rating: PG-13 for language
POV: Geetard!
Summary: Gerard is a senior in high school. Frank is a freshman. The two meet in art class, and are immediately captivated by one another. But when things change, their friendship becomes unbalanced. Neither are sure what they're feeling, and in such a homophobic community, the thought of being together is almost as bad as badmouthing President Bush.
Disclaimer: Don't own. Didn't happen. Cherokee high school does exist, though, and it is my high school.
Author Notes: Seperate Author's Notes are in the chapter.
Warnings: cuteness, sleeping together, language
Chapter.One // Chapter.Two // Chapter.Three // Chapter.Four // Chapter.Five // Chapter.Six // Chapter.Seven // Chapter.Eight // Chapter.Nine // Chapter.Ten // Chapter.Eleven // Chapter.Twelve // Chapter.Thirteen // Chapter.Fourteen // Chapter.Fifteen // Chapter.Sixteen // Chapter.Seventeen // Chapter.Eighteen // Chapter.Nineteen // Chapter.Twenty

--

Author's Notes: I feel bad.
You guys think this fic has a happy ending.
>> << ><

The next two chapters are weak. I only take one chapter to describe something that is really monumental, but for my own purposes. [As in, to speed up time and to show that it's not so much a dramatic thing as a...yeah.]
But, please, no more of these "happy ending" comments. D: They kill me. I feel bad when I break the news.
The last chapter and the epilogue will be released at the same time ;;

--

I lug boxes out of the truck my dad let us borrow as Frank caries them inside the apartment. He’s moving a lot of his stuff, too, just so it’s not quite such a hassle when he moves in. A little more than a month left, I think with a sigh. It’s mid September, on a weekend, so Frankie’s not in school. My school doesn’t start until next week—late, I know—so I have a little bit to get used to my surroundings.

It was a hike, getting up here. About a six hour drive. We left Friday night and got here just around three AM, crashing on the floor of the apartment. We woke up, smiled broadly at each other, and got to work.

So far, we got our bed in, the TV and TV stand, a dresser, and a computer desk. Everything but the computer desk goes into the bedroom.

I’m panting, carrying two heavy lamp-desks as I say, “go get the computer and put it on the desk.”

He salutes me and slips past me as I drag the two hunks of wood into the bedroom. Once I have them positioned on either side of the bed in a satisfactory way, I turn around and head down the hallway. Frank’s installing the computer for me (little computer nerd), so I go and get my bookshelves with a heavy sigh.

Once those are in the bedroom, I begin to tug out the threadbare couch Mom’s been saving for me for a few years. It’s my favorite couch, honestly. I love all the patches: it reminds me of home. I push it against the wall and put even more lamps up on stupid little lamp desks. Yet another bookshelf goes in here, as long as I large stack of movies. Our CD rack is next to my very old stereo, which is in the center of the room. Frank is bringing his fantastic amps, so we’ll have about six amps all around the living room—not to mention the rest of the house. (All in all, we’ll have six around the living room (that includes the pathetic excuse for a dining room), two in the hallway, one in the computer room, and three in the master bedroom. In case you’re wondering, yes, when we pooled our amp collection together, it really came up to twelve all-in-all.)

“Frank!” I holler. He sticks his head out of the computer room, head tilting to the side.

“Mmmmmhm?” he asks. He has nails in his mouth from trying to get the amp in position in there.

I point to the door. “I’m going to need help getting the dining table in.”

He rolls his eyes, spitting the nails out. “You’re such a pansy: why the hell do we need a dining table? We’re going to be eating on the floor while playing music and doing homework, you know.”

“So my mom doesn’t kill me when she comes to visit.”

He just grins and punches me in the arm, but heads out of the apartment. Together, we haul the table out and set it up, arranging the four chairs in order. The last stuff to bring in is all boxes, like my clothes (he’s bringing his clothes later), kitchen shit, books, and more CD’s.

Once the amps are in position, the computer is installed, the TV is working with the Comcast Cable box installed (good thing we remembered to get it installed as soon as possible—we would have died!), we head back out to the car to grab the rest of the shit. Frank pretends to drown in my collection of books, forgetting that half of them are his, too.

My college textbooks go on the shelf in the living room, all our personal books in the bedroom. I hang my clothes up while Frank lies on the bed, mussing up the careful work I’d done to make it look perfect. (There was an art in making a bed, trust me.)

“My next project is to paint this room,” I muse as I dance back into the closet to put another armful of clothes in. He laughs.

“How are you going to paint it?” he asks, and his shoe comes sailing at my head. I drop the stack of clothes and scream “shit!”

He cracks up, but at least he comes over to make sure I’m alright. I nod and rub my head, rolling my eyes. “Eh, to answer your question, not sure yet. What ever I feel like painting, I’ll paint.”

Frank nods in understanding, as if it makes perfect sense. I’m sure it doesn’t, but at least he’s not begging me for an answer. I pick up the clothes I’ve dropped, hang them up, and move to put the rest of the clothes in my side of the drawer. Basically just my pajama’s and sweats.

By the time we’re done organizing everything, one of our three digital clocks (excluding the Comcast one in the room—there’s one in the computer room, one in the kitchen, and one in the living room) informs us it’s even.

We nod to each other. “Time to go eat.”

As our bachelor dinner, we get Chinese food.

We bring it home and, as Frank predicted, we eat on the floor of the living room. We choose to listen to Iron Maiden, and I sing along, as does Frank. His guitar is sitting next to the stereo, his case beside it. Inside, I’m sure, are his practice-books and picks. He’ll be continuing his lessons, mainly because I threw a fit when he told me he was thinking about quitting to save money.

By the time we’ve gotten most of the food in our mouths, and we’re not quite as hyped up as we had been, it’s nearing ten o’clock. We throw away our leftovers and look into the empty refrigerator before laughing, hugging as tightly as we can.

He mumbles, “I still can’t believe that this is our very own place.”

“I know!” I squeal, looping our arms into each other. “Let’s go check out the bed?”

He grins at me, and we race to the bed, jumping into it at virtually the same time and crawling under the covers. We haven’t undressed into pajamas, or anything. We’re just lying beneath the blankets, in our jeans and work clothes, clutching each other.

“Let’s watch TV,” Frank suggests, and we do. We order a movie and eventually he migrates towards my lap. I let him sit there, since he fits so damn well there anyway. I pet his head, stroking him while he runs his hands up and down my thighs.

By the time the movie’s over, it’s around twelve at night. I see him yawning so I switch the TV off when the movie’s over. “It’s time for bed,” I say.

He nods. He’s not about to argue with me, I know. I’m giving him to chance to finally sleep with me…not that way.

We both slink out of bed and transfer into pajamas, ignoring our shirtless, boxer-clad selves during appropriate times. He merely throws on a large shirt, but I slip sweat pants on as well as a big shirt. We go back to the bed and sink in.

Immediately, my hands curl around his figure. He curls into a ball, body fitting against mine perfectly. I hug him as tightly as I can to myself, closing my eyes and burying my face in his neck.



The next morning, I have to drive him home.

The drive home is a sad one: he knows he won’t see me for another two weeks, when I’ll pick him up again, in two weeks on Friday night. When I arrive at his house he turns to me and kisses me desperately.

I kiss him back, afraid to go through my first week of college without him. Oh, hell, I’m afraid of living without him for that long.

“Promise to call?” he croaks to me.

“As long as you promise to pick up,” I answer him back, which earns a smile. We kiss again, tongues meeting in between before he pulls away and steps from the car.

“I love you. Good luck.”

“I love you, too.” I wave goodbye as I drive away from his house.

Title: Teenage.Stupidity [20/24]
Author: toasty_vampire
Pairing: FeexGee!
Rating: PG-13 for mentions of wet dreams
POV: Gerard's again
Summary: Gerard is a senior in high school. Frank is a freshman. The two meet in art class, and are immediately captivated by one another. But when things change, their friendship becomes unbalanced. Neither are sure what they're feeling, and in such a homophobic community, the thought of being together is almost as bad as badmouthing President Bush.
Disclaimer: Don't own. Didn't happen. Cherokee high school does exist, though, and it is my high school.
Author Notes: Ever wonder where this idea was conjured up? Ever wonder what Frank and Gerard's kissy-place looks like? If you have, I have something to make you smile - pictures of a trip to Grounds for Sculpture. Just click here.
Warnings: Fluff, sadness, cute. Coming out. Crazy Author's Note >>
Chapter.One // Chapter.Two // Chapter.Three // Chapter.Four // Chapter.Five // Chapter.Six // Chapter.Seven // Chapter.Eight // Chapter.Nine // Chapter.Ten // Chapter.Eleven // Chapter.Twelve // Chapter.Thirteen // Chapter.Fourteen // Chapter.Fifteen // Chapter.Sixteen // Chapter.Seventeen // Chapter.Eighteen // Chapter.Nineteen

--

Author's Notes: Well, a lot of shit has happened, I guess.
**I will now have personal experience of coming out. Not only did my friend have an explosive one, I had a relatively calm one.
**I will now have personal experience of what it's like to be in a relationship where the person loves you as much as you love them.
**I will now have personal experience of homophobic friends who think they're 'helping' you. ><
If you guys want me to, I'll write another little piece on what's happened. Just give me the word. ^^
[Oh shit she sent me the cutest text message -cries tears of happy joyness-]

-skips off humming-
Btw, this chapter is one of my favorites. x3;

--

The following month or so, Frank and I spend every minute together. He’s either at my house, or I’m at his house. (Yes, believe it or not, I venture into his house because both of his parents are workaholics and manage to leave him alone during the day, and often all weekend.)

It’s so nice, spending every possible minute I can with him. I’m never away from his side, when I can help it. A couple of times, we’ve gone to the mall and just roamed around, and we both clung to each other for dear life. It was like, ‘if you let go of me, I’ll die.’ Of course he knew that I’d never, ever leave him. Never.

As the month wore on and the hot, arid days of June melted into the heavy and humid days of July, the increasing need to tell my parents about Frank and I’s relationship grew. I talked to Frank about it, and he agreed that I should tell them, soon. But, it’s just how soon that made both of us scratch our heads in confusion.

Mikey stopped asking me if I was gay, but it became increasingly obvious that he knew. My wet-dream phase seems to have passed (much to my relief), so when he came down most nights, at least it wasn’t like I was teeming with the energy he was. But on those nights, he’d come and curl up next to me in the bed, mumbling questions about what it was like to have a boyfriend.

I’d answer him, of course. In his half-asleep stupor, I was sure he wouldn’t remember what I was telling him. I told him how wonderful it was to hug, touch, kiss Frank. I told him how much I loved him, how much I cared. Some of his slurring questions related to what it felt like to kiss someone who you really loved. I always responded it was fireworks, it was better than fireworks. It was the most amazing thing you could ever experience in your life.

He never confronted me in the morning, or acted differently, so I hoped my prediction was true—he never remembered. I’m content to confessing to him, because honestly, I need someone to blather to every now and then. Sometimes it feels like I love Frank so much, I’m going to implode from the sheer emotion.

One night, about ten o’clock, Frank was sitting in my basement room. He was sprawled out on my bed, looking angelic, beautiful, overall perfect. Standing on the staircase, I was hidden so that he couldn’t catch me staring. He took my breath away; the slight smile curving his lips, his hair falling into his face at just the right angles. His lips slightly parted as his eyes glued to the TV screen, watching some movie.

I had come into view and Frank’s head turned, his smile broadening when he saw me. “Hey,” he whispered.

God, I remember how my knees got weak. It was as if it suddenly hit me, right then and there, that Frankie was mine. I just stared at him, he stared at me, and before I knew it I had pounced on him and my arms were wrapped around him, tight.

He giggled as he asked, “what the hell?”

I mumbled into his neck. “You’re beautiful. My angel, my life.” I clung to him, tightly, kissing him on the neck, but that was it. “Don’t ever leave me.”

He hugged me back. “I promise I won’t. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I said, my voice had cracked.

I’m remembering this while holding Frank. I’m not sure when he fell asleep, but he did. We’re at his house, one of the weekends where his parents are away. We were watching some movie, sitting on the floor, just holding each other. Somewhere around one of the boring parts I began to hear his snores. I had laughed and pulled him closer to me, burying my head in his hair.

I love the way he smells…it’s just, Frankie’s smell. A mix of a coconut-smelling shampoo, axe body spray, and a musky, human scent. Mixed together it’s my drug. I breathe deeply and hold the scent in my nose as long as I can before I exhale softly, snuggling my face into his hair.

In just three months, he’ll be all mine. He’ll be living with me, sleeping in my bed, and I’ll have him all to my damn self. I’ll never let him go.

Never.



Later on that week, I turn to Frankie and whisper to him. “I need to tell my parents, now.”

He looks at me before nodding seriously, taking my hand in his. “I’ll be with you.” I just nod at him and we walk up the steps from my basement. It’s the weekend again, and my parents are both home, as well as Mikey. I gulp and squeeze Frank’s hand as I tell my parents to go get Mikey and meet me in the family room.

It takes a few minutes to round up the entire family, but we manage. Frank’s sitting on the couch and I’m standing up. Everyone’s looking at me. I catch Frankie’s eye and he smiles at me, which gives me the courage to go on.

“Erm, guys?” My mouth is dry. “I have a confession to make….”

“What is it, son?” my Dad asks kindly.

I suck in as much breath as I can and blurt it out. “I’m gay.”

Mikey smiles broadly at me, winking and giving me the thumbs up. Mom and Dad exchange a look before Mom smiles at me. “And, Gerard? This is news to us, how?”

I nearly choke. “You knew!?”

Dad laughs, and I’m not sure whether to laugh along with him or be completely startled. “Gerard,” he says seriously after he’s done chuckling. “Sometimes, people just know.” He cracks a smile. “And, the fact that you spend just a little bit too much time with Frank was a tip off, too.”

Deflating, I go and sit on the loveseat Frank’s on. Frank’s just smiling at me, in a way that mocks, I-told-you-so. I want to smack him and tell him that he didn’t tell me that this would happen, but of course don’t.

“So…you guys are okay with it?” I ask them, weakly.

Mom, Dad, and Mikey all nod in unison. “Of course we are; you’re our Gerard…and Frank is our Frankie.” My mom said this, which causes Frank to laugh. Out of the corner of my eye, though, I see the slightly hurt expression. I want to go melt and die.

How come my parents are so accepting, when his parents aren’t?

How come I get lucky, when he doesn’t?

He deserves it more than I do….

“Well, uh, Frank and I are going to go and go get something to eat…alright?”

Mom nods at me, and so does Dad. Neither make any snide remark, like, “remember to use a condom,” or anything, of which I’m immensely relieved. I snatch Frank’s hand and we both dart out of the house, swinging into my car as fast as we can.

I take a deep breath and turn to him. “I am so, so sorry.”

His smile is a bit tight, but it’s a smile. “It’s alright. It’s not your fault…,” his voice trails off as his eyes lower. “It still upsets me, though. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have a dad, but then again, I can’t imagine my life without him.”

Nodding, I embrace him as best as I can in the car. “I’m still sorry…I’m going to kill them later for that. That was…” My voice trails off. There are no words to describe how totally uncalled for it was.

Frank shakes his head vigorously in protest, though. “No, don’t. It’s not their fault, either. They didn’t know.” He frowns, tilting his head back against the head rest. “It’s not their fault I got the shittiest set of parents…one of them so homophobic it’s sick, the other too afraid to stand up for her own damned son.”

I don’t know what to say, so in substitute for words I kiss him, hoping it’ll be enough to at least break his mind away from the sad thoughts.

…but I know it will never be enough.

Title: Teenage.Stupidity [19/24]
Author: toasty_vampire
Pairing: FeexGee!
Rating: PG for kissing.
POV: Gerard's.
Summary: Gerard is a senior in high school. Frank is a freshman. The two meet in art class, and are immediately captivated by one another. But when things change, their friendship becomes unbalanced. Neither are sure what they're feeling, and in such a homophobic community, the thought of being together is almost as bad as badmouthing President Bush.
Disclaimer: Don't own. Didn't happen. Cherokee high school does exist, though, and it is my high school.
Author Notes: Ever wonder where this idea was conjured up? Ever wonder what Frank and Gerard's kissy-place looks like? If you have, I have something to make you smile - pictures of a trip to Grounds for Sculpture. Just click here.
Warnings: Cute, fluff, coming out.
Chapter.One // Chapter.Two // Chapter.Three // Chapter.Four // Chapter.Five // Chapter.Six // Chapter.Seven // Chapter.Eight // Chapter.Nine // Chapter.Ten // Chapter.Eleven // Chapter.Twelve // Chapter.Thirteen // Chapter.Fourteen // Chapter.Fifteen // Chapter.Sixteen // Chapter.Seventeen // Chapter.Eighteen

--

Author's Notes: I'MA WHORING OUT MY PICTURES!
CLICK HERE IF YOU READ THIS STORY x3

And, uh, yeah <33

--

Having Frank in my life makes life worth living.

It’s not exactly as if I was suicidal before I met Frank, but I had been wandering around, aimlessly. Hardly living for myself. Unsure of my future, only knowing I wanted to make it to an art school, only knowing I wanted to make a living. I had never pictured myself having a girlfriend (boyfriend). My thoughts of me getting married were that I would meet a girl in school, and marry her, maybe have kids to shut Mom and Dad up. I never thought that I could be physically attracted to anyone—or, better yet, never thought anyone would be attracted to me.

But, Frank is like this little ball of happiness. He’s always laughing, always hugging me, always kissing me. He can find the bright side to anything, it seems. When he’s sad, I feel like the world is going to end. It’s just so…wrong. Not seeing a mischievous smirk on his face is enough to crack my heart.

Frank gives me a reason to breathe. Before, life was just a step-by-step procedure; something that had to be completed. But, now, life has meaning. Or, if not meaning, at least something to make me want to succeed. Now, instead of just wanting to make it by, I want to seize the moon and wrap it up for Frank. I want to hand him anything and everything in a neatly wrapped box, topped with a bow.

His birthday present to me would be deemed as pathetic to anyone else, but it was adorable to me. I know he’s not a cook, so just the thought that he tried was enough to send my heart squealing. Believe it or not, the dinner was actually pretty good. And, of course, the CD’s he gave me were CD’s I hadn’t even told him I wanted. It surprised me that he knew I liked those bands.

Right now, I’m standing up on a platform, dressed in a brown gown. I’ve got the fabled hat on, too, and I’m walking up to get my high school diploma. I’m still startled at the thought that I’m actually graduating high school. I take the scroll of white paper, looking for a moment into my principal’s eyes before smiling at him. I walk off the platform and look into the crowd, immediately spotting Frank.

He gives me the thumbs up and I give them back to him, running off the stage. He zooms out of the crowd and smacks hard into my chest, embracing me so hard I almost trip over my gown. “Congratulations!” he hollers in my face, as if I can’t hear him. He snuggles into my chest, uncaring that his dad is glaring at him painfully. My parents are somewhere in the crowd, probably wondering what the embrace means. I’ll be telling them, soon, now that I’m officially a high school graduate and can take off when ever I like. College in the fall, after all.

I pull Frankie off of me and lace my arm into his, holding the diploma in the other hand tightly. He tilts his head on my shoulder and finds a way to hug me while walking. “I’m so freakin’ proud of you!”

“Yeah, yeah,” I roll my eyes at him. “I’ll be proud of you, too, when you graduate high school.”

He punches me. “Don’t demote the day! Come on, Gerard, be happy! You’re free, now. Nothing holding you back. Besides me, of course.” He grins at me and I can’t tell if he’s joking, or halfway serious. I hope he knows that he’s not holding me back, he’s pushing me forward.

Mom and Dad come over and knock Frank away from me. He gladly steps away and gives my parents the rights to squeeze the shit out of me. Mikey joins in on the group hug, too, screaming “LET’S ALL GLOMP GERARD!”

Mom pets my hair, as if I’m five again. “We’re so proud of you!” Dad nods vigorously and Mikey just smiles sweetly up at me. He’ll probably have more to say to me later tonight, but just doesn’t want to say it out loud in front of everyone. “Our baby graduated high school.”

“You’ll get used to it,” I snicker, earning a thwap on the head from Dad. With my diploma that he’s wrenched from my hands to look at as if it’s gold. I tug away from their embrace. “I’m gonna go celebrate with my friend, alright? I’ll be home tonight, so you know.”

Dad snorts at me. “You better be home mister, or we’ll—”

“What?” I grin stupidly at him. “I’m a graduate and an adult! You can’t ground me.”

He just glares at me playfully and punches me in the arm. “Love you, Gerard.”

I hug everyone again, tightly. “Love you too, guys.”

I turn towards Frank and we both skip out of the building quickly, Frank not even saying by to his dumb-ass parents. We head to my car and once I turn on the car and flick the air conditioning on, I turn to him and ask, “where to?”

He smiles weakly. “I was thinking…Grounds for Sculpture?”

Immediately I gun the car and we’re heading off towards the park. I hadn’t even thought of that, but now that I think about it, if we want privacy, that’s the place to go. It’s really only about one in the afternoon, since the ceremony took place during the day (the day after school let out), and the park closes at seven. So we have a lot of time…probably, like, at least four hours to ourselves. Just the statures, nature, and the two of us.

As it had in the past, it took us about two hours to get there. I hand the man the money at the front gate (having a job is wondrous) and we find a parking spot. When we crawl out of the car Frank immediately latches onto me, so tightly I feel like my arm is going to fall off. I laugh and yank away, so I can hold him, too.

We wander through the gardens, coming to the Weeping Willow, where we shared our first kiss. Frankie just looks at me, wordlessly, and sits down. I was smart enough to take off my gown before coming in so I’m not worried about staining it. I sit down next to him, looking out at the lake.

“When are we going to move into the apartment, Gerard?” Frankie asks after a few moments of silence. We’re sitting with our arms wrapped around each other. His head is on my shoulder.

I tilt my head to the side, wondering. “Well, you can’t move in till your birthday…sorry, Frankie…but you need to be old enough to be legally emancipated from your parents.”

He makes a noise of disgust, but doesn’t protest. I know he understands.

“I was thinking of moving in around August? A week or so before school starts so I don’t panic.” I feel him nod. “The apartment complex I have my eye on is nice. It’s about five miles away from my school, about a mile away from the high school, so you can walk there if you want to.”

He giggles. “I think I’m gonna probably want to walk. That will be fun.”

I pull him closer and smile at his laugh. “And it’s a two bedroom apartment, so I can have an office, or what ever, and then we can have our room.” He squeals a little, which makes me smile even wider. I don’t think he was expecting me to agree to us sharing a room (a bed), but I decided that we should. Not because I want to necessarily do anything, but because…he’s my Frankie. It seems like the right thing to do: I want to be able to sleep next to him, finally watch him as he’s asleep. Not have to wonder, dream about how he looks with his eyes closed and his mind shut off. I’ll finally be able to see.

Sighing, I inhale the slight musky scent of the park. I like the smell, it smells familiar. Safe. Probably because when ever one of us has a bad day, we dash here to relax. When it was cold we’d sit in the Warming Hut, when it warmed up, we’d sit in the middle of the bridge over the water. Very, very rarely were we bothered.

“I can’t wait,” Frank mumbles. “I feel like a little kid again. Jumping up and down in excitement for my birthday.”

He snuggles into me. “I can’t wait, either. It’ll be a dream come true.” I murmur the words so softly I’m afraid he won’t hear, but I know he does because he wiggles away from my shoulder to kiss me.

I kiss him back, carefully. I hold his hands in my hand and deepen the kiss. We kiss for a few minutes before he pulls away, putting his head in my lap.

We sit like that for God knows how long. Both of us conjuring up how wonderful it will be to live together—whether in spoken words or telepathic words. I run my fingers through his hair, leaning down to kiss him every so often.

Hey, guys.
I promised a few months ago, idk, that I'd take pictures of the place where Teenage Stupidity takes place.
Well, yesterday, my fmaily and I went back there. And I was blessed with my beautiful camera, named Malik, for Christmas.
So I snapped a few pictures.
Here are my favorite. If you're ever in the Jersey area, I more than suggest visiting. It's well, well worth the money to get in, well worth the hour or so drive from my house to get there.
x3

Mah Photos
[Btw, I made up these titles, they're not the titles of the actual pieces. I claim no credit for the pieces, only the photographs.]


Black or White, Copper or Rust
One of the many realistic statues there. I was looking closer at the faces and saw, to my immense shock and surprise, that his face was two different colors. I'm wondering if the artist purposely did this or not.


Broken Ribs to the Heart
One of the figurines by the enterance to the sculpture gardens. I love it.


Cuddle
I'm such a freak - when I see this, I automatically squeak and say, "Frerard!"


Engorge
On the back of this is a guy with a penis, but all my photos of it came out like shit. ><


Green as Envy
My favorite sculpture in the entire park. x3 Btw, the title is a joke...since a lot of the statues are getting green from being outside in the rain. AHA I AM SO WIN.


Grounds for Sculpture
It's way prettier during the spring and when it's not so cold you can't move your jaw


If I'm Your Frank, be my Gerard
YES. I TOOK THIS PICTURE FOR THE SOLE PURPOSE THAT AS I STUMBLED ALONG THE PATH, IT LITERALLY SCREAMED TO ME THAT IT WAS FRANK AND GERARD. I think I need to take a break from Frerard.


My Muse
I was sitting right there when I got the idea for Teenage Stupidity.


Peeking Tom
I had to climb over a lot of shit to get a picture of this.


Perverted Boy
The first time I saw this, I thought a real guy was sitting underneath them. I was gonna throw rocks at him.


Stand and Wait
I often wonder if this is based on the Great Depression.


Star Crossed Lovers
This is the guy with the multi colored face. I like what this represents...


the Artist Ponders
He's painting. x3! AHA BRILLIANT DEDUCTION.


the Great Pretender
Oh, I am the Great Pretender, Willing to Dream Forever -
Poor little waterfall, it looks so lonely and sad when there are no flowers all over it. :<


The Lord is My Yodeling Shepard
This statue scares my dad and I...a lot. We don't understand it.


What two Dicks Make
This has been there since we first came about a year ago (unsurprisingly). It's also mentioned in the fic because it shocked me so much...haha...I still think it's cool statue though.


Where the Wind Blows
I love the angle of this. It makes him look kind of cooler, I guess. This is my friend Matt's "best friend," as we often refer to him. We go and talk to him for a few minutes when we go together, but he hardly ever responds.


Just One Kiss for Stupidity
Yes, this is where I've pictured Frank and Gerard sharing their first kiss. It's so much prettier in the spring, I'll prolly have pictures. But if you ever thought of Frank and Gerard kissing somewhere somewhat similar to this, you can picture what goes through my head.


Teenage Stupidity
Another picture of the area with more of a feel for how it drapes over...I sort of want my first kiss to be here, too. XD;



There you have it! I have a few more, so if I get enough people going "OMGZ MOAR" I might post them up.
And, if it comes down to it, I'm taking pictures in the Spring. So if I remember I'll put a link up on FxG for anyone who remembers. Okay? <3
[I will wind up posting this fic to MCS eventually.]

Anyway. If you're really interested in visiting this astonishing place, find a way to get to me. I can give you better directions, and give you the exact area. Keep in mind it's a little north of me and I'm in one of the southernmost regions of New Jersey. It's about midway through New Jersey...so if you live in Belleville it might take a bit longer to get there than it does for me. ^^;

<3 Hope you guys got a good feel for how beautiful the place is, but these pictures have no representation on how beautiful it is in real life. (It doesn't really help that I can't take photography for shit.)

Title: Teenage.Stupidity [18/24]
Author: toasty_vampire
Pairing: FeexGee!
Rating: PG for overwhelming corniness.
POV: Frankie's
Summary: Gerard is a senior in high school. Frank is a freshman. The two meet in art class, and are immediately captivated by one another. But when things change, their friendship becomes unbalanced. Neither are sure what they're feeling, and in such a homophobic community, the thought of being together is almost as bad as badmouthing President Bush.
Disclaimer: Don't own. Didn't happen. Cherokee high school does exist, though, and it is my high school.
Author Notes: <3 check each chapter for specific author notes, kay? They're too long to put in here (because I cannot keep things short).
Warnings: Corny, corny, corny.
Chapter.One // Chapter.Two // Chapter.Three // Chapter.Four // Chapter.Five // Chapter.Six // Chapter.Seven // Chapter.Eight // Chapter.Nine // Chapter.Ten // Chapter.Eleven // Chapter.Twelve // Chapter.Thirteen // Chapter.Fourteen // Chapter.Fifteen // Chapter.Sixteen // Chapter.Seventeen

--

Author's Notes: Sorry this took so long ><
But how did your christmas' go?? I got a camera
So the next post for this will prolly be pictures of Grounds for Sculpture x3

--

Gerard picks me up on time, as I knew he would. Immediately, he senses something’s wrong. I’m about to lie and tell him it’s nothing when it all comes spilling out, tumbling away from me quicker than I would have thought it could. He had drove out of my driveway but parked in an abandoned parking lot, probably belonging to a medical practice. I don’t even realize, but I’m crying really quite hard.

When I’ve finished my lament, Gerard crushes me in a hug. “I’m so sorry, babe,” he moans, kissing my forehead and trailing kisses down to my lips. His hands knot in my hair and he kisses me so forcefully, as if trying to breathe life stolen away back into me. Just as I’m really going to kiss him back, he pulls away and holds my face between his hands.

“We’re skipping today,” he breathes in my face. “I don’t care.” I just nod at him, bemused as he turns the car off. He turns to me again and stares at me, hard, in the eyes. “Frankie. I’m going away to college next year, and. I’ll rent myself an apartment, so you can live with me, too. You’ll be old enough to work then? You can get a part time job and go to school while I go to school, too. Will you be okay with switching high schools so we can get as far away from your parents as possible?” He waits for my answer, and I nod. He smiles and kisses my fingers before moving on. “I’ll get a job soon, like maybe even apply tonight. And I’ll work so we have enough down payment to get an apartment. Mom and Dad promised me that they’ll help me pay my way through college, so I don’t have to worry about that.

“Frank, I’ve already been accepted into a college. I have all my high school credits; I’m just biding my time. I’m glad I did, though, or I wouldn’t have met you. But, do you want to start this soon? Like, I mean. Not tomorrow. But within the next six months?”

I just stare at him. The prospect of living with Gerard? Beyond my wildest fantasy. I suck in a large amount of breath, trying to clear my head. Trying to make sure I’m not dreaming, not imagining this wonderful opportunity. When Gerard is still in front of me with that same concerned expression, I realize that he really just said all that. “That would be fantastic,” I breathe.

He squeals a little, twisting so that he’s sitting cross legged in his seat. His knee bumps awkwardly against the steering wheel, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “I guess it’ll take a little bit to gather up the money. Do you even need to have down payments on apartments?” He tilts his head to the side, wondering.

I’m not sure. But I remember what my mom said—I can’t get out of the house till I’m sixteen. “Gerard,” I say slowly, apologetically. “I really want to go live with you—really, I do—but we have to wait a year.” He frowns at me, wondering why. “I can’t get away from my parents legally ‘till I’m sixteen. We can wait a year, can’t we?”

Gerard nods, smiling broadly. “More time to save up! With this rate, we should have enough so that we can live pretty comfortably for a while…especially if we don’t blow the money on stupid things. I mean if I have a job, Mom and Dad will make me pay for my own gas, but that’s about it. And then when you move in, if you have a job, too…,” his voice fades off as we both imagine this fantastic life. Together.

I lean forward and kiss him sweetly. He kisses me back, twisting our fingers together so that we become a perfect, intricate design. “It’s perfect. I can’t wait.” I whisper the words against his lips and pull away slightly. His bright, bright green eyes are dancing with the life of the plan.

We spend the rest of the day in that parking lot. We don’t even bother to call in school and tell them we’re not showing up. We talk about everything, stealing kisses every now and then. We talk from our parents, to Mikey (who has been bothering Gerard about his sexuality), to the color of the sky, to the need to pee but the need to stay with one another. It seems like it’s only been a few moments, but the clock on his car tells us it’s seven and we kick start into motion.

“My mom’s gonna kill me,” I groan a bit. Gerard nods empathetically, probably knowing he’s going to get his butt whipped as well. He drops me off at my house and kisses me carefully on the lips. I can tell he doesn’t want to get caught. “Come get me tomorrow.”

He purrs, “but of course, my Frankie.” He drives off quickly and I head into the house with my head down, a bit frightened of what my parents are going to say.

As I enter, I realize they’re having dinner. I wander over, dropping my backpack along the way. I hope they don’t know I skipped. As I enter the dining room, I notice that there are only two chairs out. Both of them occupied.

“Hi,” I say as loudly as I can, but Dad refuses to acknowledge me. I stare at him, open mouthed. He’s really ignoring me. Mom waves at me, but I’m not focusing on her. Just staring incredulously at Dad.

Mom clears her throat. “You’re dinner is in the kitchen, honey.” I blink at her before glaring at him and stomping off towards the kitchen. I can’t believe….

I snatch the plate and scarf it down, wandering upstairs to do my homework and then fall asleep.



The next few months move at a snails crawl. Gerard stays true to his word. He gets a job at the local Borders bookstore, working as a clerk there. I often go to work with him, just wandering the store and reading a lot of books. More than I ever have in my life, I can say honestly.

The manager gets to know me well. When Gerard comes in she calls to him, “bring your puppy?” Gerard just nods and I poke my head out behind him. She waves at me and I wave back, wrapping my arms around Gerard’s waist and hugging him closer to me. When he stumbles back he laughs, but lowers his hand so he’s gripping me from behind.

Slowly but surely, his birthday crawls toward us. I’m not sure what to get him—what do nineteen year olds want?—so I settle on buying him a whole stack of brand new CD’s, and making him dinner. I clear it with his Mom. I ask her (politely!) to leave the house on his birthday so I can make him dinner. She agrees, hopefully only thinking I’m doing it for a friend and nothing more.

We have school on his birthday, which drags. He also has to work (I made sure that he didn’t take it off) so I order him to drop me off at his house before he goes to work. He grumbles but kisses me and hugs me goodbye, promising to be back in about four hours. That should be enough time to give him a fantastic dinner, no?

As soon as I come into the house (it’s been my second home, anyway, since my house is more of a prison now) his mom smiles. “Shall I leave now?”

I nod. She laughs and I hug her tightly. “I cleaned all the dishes…and everything you might need to use.” I thank her and she leaves, telling me Mikey is also going to a friends’ house and Gerard’s dad is working late. I grin thankfully at her as she leaves her own house for me.

Getting to work, I really do work for those four hours. I’m making salad, pasta, and cheesecake. I couldn’t think of anything to make, so I decided on my favorite. Yeah, yeah, horrible boyfriend, what ever.

Just as I’m finishing up dinner, I hear the door crack open. “If I come in, will my face be eaten?”

I laugh. “Yes, but in the good way.” I hear his chuckle come closer. He stops in the dining room, frozen in the threshold of the doorway. He examines the candles everywhere on the table and then finally the bowl of salad in the center.

Coughing nervously, I say, “sit down—the pasta will be done soon so you have eat your salad quickly.”

He sits down and we eat. I grab the pasta after he finishes his salad, and we eat in silence. He’s sitting across from me and every now and then he’ll catch my eye and smile broadly. He tells me it’s really good when I ask which calms my nerves. I don’t think its half bad but yet again, my taste buds could be totally fucked up.

When he finishes I go and grab the cheesecake. He laughs. “Cheesecake! My favorite.” That calms me down almost completely. I’m happy to report that my cheesecake is actually edible, and he closes his eyes as if it’s bliss. The dinner goes a lot better than my nightmares had offered up to me.

When we finish, he comes and hugs me tightly around the middle. “Thanks!” he exclaims happily.

I struggle against him, playfully. “Excuse me, but I have one more thing.” I pull away, grabbing the wrapped stalk I had set on one of the chairs in the room. Then I hand it to him and he rips open the package.

“Oh my God! Thank you!” He examines the six or seven CD’s I’ve bought him as if they’re gold. “I’ve been meaning to get these for a long time.” He places them on the table and hugs me, crushing me to his chest. I lean against him and settle myself on him, fitting perfectly to his form.

I lean up and peck him on the lips. “You’re welcome…,” I tell him. Before I know it I’m assaulting his mouth, kissing him roughly. He kisses me back, equally as violent. I tug at his hair, yanking him down.

But before we can go any further (boy, do I want to keep going), we hear the door open. We pull away quickly and look at each other before cracking smiles. “How did the birthday dinner go?” we hear his mom call out.

“Fantastic,” I call back and hug Gerard tightly.

I've made these over the past, eh, three weeks? x3






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Feel free to use, just give credit.

Title: In the Darkness
Author: toasty_vampire
Pairing: Mikey/Gerard - WAYCEST [Gerard's name never mentioned]
Rating: Nestling somewhere between PG and PG-13
POV: Third, Mikey-centric
Summary: Mikey waits for him, each night, wanting to be the one to wrap protective arms around him. Choking black skies are enough to hide disasterous relationships.
Disclaimer: If I said this happened, I'd be telling a lie as big as if I said I knew the band personally.
Author Notes: Written because I had to; my mind wouldn't leave me alone. First Waycest. This is also my first posted fic on this comm, but I've posted on FrankxGerard before.
Word Count: 1439
Beta: I don't know if I'd call her my beta, but she is the person who told me to upload this fic: perfectionists. <3
Warnings: Incest, questionable relationships, teenage angst.

--

It’s times like this when Mikey would stand by his bed, fingers poised in the air, gripping to something only he could see. His hand would be placed just so, as if a body had once been beneath them, the pads of his fingers skimming down the flawless skin of someone’s arm, or back. They would be curled, his eyes slightly closed as he stood as still as he possibly could. Breathing slowly, his small chest rising as lightly as possible as the flimsy shirt barely touched milky skin lost to the sun.

The scent of cigarettes would linger in the room, bulbous and overwhelming with its intensity, yet oddly calming. Its stench, second hand smoke, was almost completely lost to him. He had grown so used to inhaling the sweet, burning taste. Feel it slither down the back of his throat and nestle on top of his lungs, clutching to them tightly. Almost making him want to reach into his pocket and pull his inhaler out, but never quite being that bad. It was always somewhat welcoming; it would remind him that he was in the room, or had been recently.

Thin hands with bones clearly visible would reach down and snag onto a piece of material. A pillow, a blanket, a shirt. And slowly, Mikey would hold the cloth to him and suck in the smell. The almost musky smell of body sweat shoved beneath deodorant, a trace of what could perhaps be cologne, and of course, smoke. A smile would always cross his lips as he peered down the edge of his nose, trying to keep the object in sight while clutching it close to him.

It was never meant to be, he knows. It was never meant to cross between the border of fantasy, and slowly edge into the world of realism. Where children died from vicious parents, where bedraggled and lost men lifted sordid eyes to the sky in one final plea to the overseeing being. In the darkness, hands could ghost across flesh and not be seen. In the darkness, mouths could come within close proximity and breathe against one another without fear of being caught. The only legacies of the night’s events would be memories, memories of eyes shining in the darkness. The whites of eyes causing the iris to look deeper, darker, the pupil a black hole of wrongdoings and pleasure.

With a sigh, Mikey sits down on the edge of his bed. In his small fingers he holds his shirt, a simple black one. It looks as if it had once been very nice, but now it’s splattered with paint and has obviously lost all sense of price. The sight of paint blobs smeared against the fabric, red, yellow, orange, fire against black midnight sky, is almost amusing to Mikey. He stares down at it and thinks, he wore this while he was painting. The paint looks fresh. It must be recent.

He’s out, that’s all Mikey really knows. He frowns and a small blush creeps into his face, part of his mind wanting to know why he cares.

He’s sixteen, his brother is nineteen. He shouldn’t even care about his brother. It’s illogical, naïve, even, for him to think that he’s thinking about him, too. Thinking as desperately as he is, waiting, holding things that belong to Mikey himself when Mikey is away. He slowly lets the spoiled shirt fall to the floor, in a position not unlike he had found it in, and lets his face turn towards the clock.

It’s just past midnight. He has school tomorrow, for goodness sake; he shouldn’t be up at this hour.

It takes him a moment. He stares at the door, willing him to stumble through the door in drunken glory and lather Mikey with the thing he so desperately craves. He tilts his head to the side, listening, begging for some noise that would symbolize that he is home. But, to his displeasure, no signs arise. He sits, listening to his own heart thud loudly in his chest. Listening to his breathing, coming erratically from his lips. Listens to his bones creaking, fingers twitching against his leg.

A groan of resignation escapes as he claws his way off the bed. He slowly opens the door of his room, exiting as quietly as possible. He stumbles up the steps as best as he can, disappointment bitter against his palate. When he’s on the first floor he trudges to his bedroom and enters with quiet feet, falling onto the bed. He’s fully clothed, shoes and socks still placed on his feet. His hair is ruffled, his glasses slipping down his nose, but he doesn’t care.

His pillow smells like memories, the scent wafting to his nose as he clings to it. He wishes it would suddenly morph into a human, would transform into skin he could trail kisses against. He curls into himself beneath the blankets, glasses still on despite the danger of rolling on top of them, and he closes his eyes against the despairing rain that wishes to fall from his clouds.

Hours pass, midnight sinking into cool dawn. He’s still awake, listening intently. It takes him by shock and surprise, yet not quite so, when he hears feet thrumming through the house. He knows it’s him, coming home from a night lost to drinking and partying.

Expecting the feet to travel down to the basement (and probably wonder why his ‘buddy’ isn’t down there waiting for him), Mikey sits up and hugs his knees to his chest. He’s planning on going down to at least check up on him, if that’s the very least, before it’s time for him to at least attempt sleep.

It comes as a shock when slick hands fumble with his doorknob noisily, and finally it wrenches open. He blinks at the figure standing in the doorway, almost a bit terrified that he had disrupted the obvious and ongoing pattern that had been in place for longer than three years.

He stands here, thick black hair hanging down his face in strands, eyes bright with something. His mouth is slightly open, and he’s breathing heavily. Mikey can’t smell any alcohol, but he blames that on distance. The two stare at each other for a moment, and it’s all Mikey can do not to either jump up and hug him, or run away from him in fear. The silence is heavy when his breathing calms, it weighing down on both of their hearts, their minds. Their bodies sag and he half limps across the room towards Mikey’s bed.

“Mikes,” he croaks, voice hoarse and gravelly. Still, Mikey can’t smell the alcohol; smell the almost needed confirmation that this was a confrontation brought on by intoxication. He lifts his head, trying to get a drift of the smell, but failing. He frowns and stares into his eyes, the jaded fragments.

After a moment, he responds to his question with a, “mhm?” of nonchalance. He bites his lip as he stumbles even closer. His hands are slightly outstretched, begging for solid matter to fall into his chest. Knock him over, blow the wind away from his lungs, what ever is needed most. He stares, both of them stare, lips dry with tongues flicking out to lick them every few seconds.

There’s no response to Mikey’s question, just lips, hands clawing, legs tangling. Hot breath into each others mouths while hands surf the boundaries of hair, twisting into the hanging locks. He flings Mikey’s glasses onto the bedside table and its okay, because midnight brushes have obscured all happenings. Even eyes are blotted out, nails digging into empty sockets treacherously as they beg for pain, beg for more. There is no trace of this happening besides sweat-soaked clothes, disgruntled breathing patterns and more abuse to an old bed.

Words are spoken and each syllable, each sound is a spike through Mikey’s heart. Each horrific word scalds his mind, scalds his face and burns him. Turns his white skin into rage, sadness, anguish. Grave eyes roll, searching for a chink of light but not finding one. He gasps for breath, an inhaler unable to save him, he knows. Five words, destroying everything he has ever hoped for.

I have a boyfriend, now.

Memories can only shine through darkness with a torch to help, can only fight against the despairing calamity of it with a small fragment of hope. Mirrors reflect only with light, color only swirls with the slight touch of the sun.

Shards cannot be picked up in the dark. Small, fragmented pieces lost in the vortex of black.

Title: Why My Chemical Romance and Walt Disney World Don't Mix
Author: toasty_vampire
Pairing: FrankxGerard, a little bit of BobxRay (it's subtle)
Rating: PG-15 because...it's just...yeah. Read.
POV: Third person, centric on Gerard and Frank
Summary: The boys decide that they should cut the dark, death-ridden trips and go to a place where allegedly, "all of their dreams will come true."
Disclaimer: Dayum, dude. I just cannot imagine My Chemcial Romance standing in Fantasy World.
Author Notes: I wrote this while I myself was in Disney. It's just supposed to be funny, supposed to make you snort with laughter.
Warnings: Degrading the Disney name, poking fun at many favorite characters, boy love, and loud noises.

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Mikey’s fingers brushed against the felt on the hat, before they curled around the material and lifted it up. Swiftly, he placed the hat on his head and snapped the rubber band beneath his chin, spreading his fingers wide while letting his eyes grow. “Lookie, everyone!” he shrieked as loudly as he could. Many heads in the store turned, but the four he was aiming to look did so. “I’m fuckin’ Mickey Mouse!”

A father clapped his hands over his toddler’s ears just in time, and he glared so hatefully at Mikey, Gerard thought it was a wonder that Mikey did not burn from the sheer hate. Frank’s face lit up and before Gerard knew what was happening, the short man had left his side. He had galloped towards Mikey and lifted up a similar hat, but instead of air between the famous ears, a red white-polka-dot bow sat contentedly. He placed it on his head and screamed, “if you’re Mickey Mouse, I’ll be your Minnie Mouse!”

Bob, who was leaning against a display of stickers featuring the Seven Dwarves, smirked and held the camera up higher. “That’s it, boys,” he hollered. “Show the camera what you’re made of.”

Mikey and Frank, both being attention whores, suddenly gripped one another as tightly as they could. Frank’s knee wedged its way between Mikey’s thin legs, hands gripping his shoulders tightly. Mikey leant down and placed his lips at the hollow of Frank’s throat, as if about to nip him there. Bob came closer, getting a better angle of the shot while laughing. “It’s Mouse-House porn!”

Children began to get ushered away from the store, venomous parents glaring at the five men. One looked at Gerard, as if to protest the fact that the two were not only portraying pornography, but gay pornography. But with one look into Gerard’s thick green eyes, he lowered his own and walked furiously from the store. The cashiers didn’t mind—teenagers themselves, they were giggling at the display.

Frank suddenly snapped off his hat and ran to the other side of the room. He barreled into a very disturbed-looking Ray. Ray had an expression on his face that was a cross between grim discomfort and utter revolution. The suffocating pink and killing cute were getting to him, Gerard concluded. But Frank passed him without even apologizing, screaming something about Jack Skellington.

Within moments, Frank had located the display he was looking for. He gripped the life size stuffed animal of Jack and pressed his lips against the stitched maw that was Jack’s. “I love you, Jackey! Dump Sally for me.” As Frank’s eyes wandered around the display and Bob came closer, Frank dropped the stuffed animal and ripped open a package. He turned away from the camera and slipped the gloves on. Once they were fastened onto his hands, he turned around and waved his four-fingers into the camera lens. The gloves were replicas of Jack’s hands.

With his broken movement of fingers, Frank examined the many hoodies, shirts, and knick-knacks that were advertising his favorite movie. He ripped the gloves off and dropped them onto the floor without caring. He merely picked up the fallen stuffed animal, hugged it, and pretended to dance with it for the camera. After his flaunting was complete, he hung the stuffed animal back up and moved on to another Disney movie to terrorize.

Ray gravitated to the only sane person in the room, Gerard. Mikey was skipping over to the Tinkerbell rack, eyeing a tutu that Gerard just knew he would have to try on. Sighing inwardly, he rolled his eyes as his prediction came true. Mikey snapped it around his waist, it unsurprisingly fitting well, and danced over on his tip toes to compete with Frank for Bob’s (and the camera’s) attention.

“Erm, maybe we shouldn’t have brought those two to Disney?” Ray asked after a moment of watching Frank and Mikey put on their own ballet. Frank had donned a Pocahontas skirt. Bob was eating the two up, face alight with laughter as the camera rolled. This section of their vacation would make it into the video diary, Gerard knew for sure.

Shrugging, Gerard turned around and tilted his head at the stuffed animal of Stitch in front of him. He picked it up, toying with it, before putting it down. “Eh. They’ll calm down. Hopefully….”

His voice trailed off just as Frank and Mikey started a rousing chorus of “Won’t Say I’m in Love,” probably initiated by the Pegasus stuffed animal that was clutched in Mikey’s hand. Mikey was moving it around with his arm, as if the horse was flying, as it did in the movie.

“No chance,” Frank yelled, his voice terribly off note.

“No way!” Mikey shouted back, making Pegasus have a seizure of flying movements.

Together, one voice too high, the other hiccupping and belching every few words, “I won’t say I’m in love!” One of them threw a “fucking” into the lyric, but the voice was distorted and undistinguishable.

Gerard shook his head. “Or, maybe they’ll embarrass the shit out of us. Either way.” He shrugged and Ray laughed, throwing his arm around his friend in sympathy. The two moved towards their friends, because even though they had to be the most embarrassing people in the world, they were still theirs.

It took a bit to get the three out of the store (much whining of, “we’re having too much fun!” and screams that Gerard and Ray just could not see the beauty in Disney were involved), but they finally traveled towards the exit. While on the way, they had a heated discussion of whether Thumper and Bambi were really secretly doing each other, a conversation that made Ray twitch. (He would never tell anyone, but he secretly loved Thumper more than any other Disney character and hated seeing the character put to such shame as to have sex with his best friend. Also, the fact that they were destroying a very innocent movie was a little dismaying to Ray.)

They emptied out into the teeming and pulsing mob of Fantasyland. As loudly as he could, Mikey pointed to the Dumbo ride and screamed, “I want to ride the flying elephants!”

Without a further word he dashed off to get in line for the ride.

Bob turned to Ray and snatched his hand. “You and me. Are riding the ‘It’s a Small World’ ride so we can sing the theme as obnoxiously as we can. Okay?” Ray did not even get a chance to respond before he was whisked away towards the side street to the ride with the singing dolls, different nations, and slow boats.

Frank turned to Gerard and grinned maliciously. “I have a surprise ride for you.”

Gerard’s eyes went wide as he asked, tentatively, “What?”

But without answering Gerard’s question, Frank skipped away, leaving Gerard with burning curiosity. Gerard followed, grumbling a bit under his breath but running quickly to catch up with his friend. When Frank stopped in front of one of the rides, Gerard’s mouth dropped open in disbelief.

“…you’re joking.”

“No. I’m serious.”

The ride that Frank had dragged Gerard to was none other than the Peter Pan ride. Gerard groaned, burying his head into his hands. Memories of that disastrous play where he was Peter Pan flitted through his mind and he turned away, unconsciously, from the ride. “I am not riding that damn ride.”

He protested Gerard’s statement. “Aw! Come on, don’t you want to ride a flying boat? Come on. You must want to ride one. Who doesn’t want to ride a flying boat!?”

Gerard looked at his friend through gaps in his fingers and stared. “…Peter Pan,” he said, faintly, before groaning again. He turned his head and examined the crocodile eating the clock, the station for those with Fast Passes. The line was incredibly short—if they were to get on now, they’d probably ride within five minutes.

Just as he was about to turn away and offer to go meet Ariel, Frankie gave him the puppy dog eyes. “Please, Gerard?”

Opening his mouth to protest, Gerard stared into those large, hazel eyes, and his will dissolved. “Oh, alright,” he snapped. Frank squealed and hugged Gerard tightly, already dragging him off towards the entrance of the ride.

As Gerard had predicted, they immediately hopped onto the flying boat. When the handle bar moved down over their laps, Frank yelled as loudly as he could, “Mommy! This ride is going to scare me, isn’t it!?”

Even Gerard knew that this ride was one of the least scary rides in all of Disney, besides, perhaps, the It’s a Small World ride. (Although in Gerard’s personal opinion, those dolls were going to take over the world with their abhorrent yet catchy song, one mind at a time.) As the boat rose on the tracks and Peter came and took the children away, they passed the Indians and watched Captain Cook try to shove Wendy off the boat.

The ride ended and Frank crawled out. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Fucking Peter Pan,” Gerard merely muttered under his breath.

Frank and Gerard spent the rest of the day together, running into the others every now and then. Mikey had teamed up with Bob and Ray after his need to ride the Dumbo ride, and was often with them (unless another ride caught his eye, such as the small trains).

They had agreed previously to meet in the front of Cinderella’s Castle, around the time of the parade. They would watch the parade and then travel to the hotel the Dolphin to take the boat to Epcot. They would have dinner in one of the countries (all five had already butted heads, but not one had won yet), watch the fireworks and end the day.

For this reason they were not worried what the other was doing. While the three dashed off towards Frontierland to try and take part in the parade there (“Woody’s going to be there, along with Jessie. I must go meet them.”), and also to ride Splash Mountain. Frank and Gerard decided to meander down to Tomorrowland, where the space-related rides were held.

They rode one of the fastest roller coasters on Disney property, Space Mountain. They also watched “Stitches Great Escape,” and swore together that Stitch’s breath was the foulest thing ever. Of course, Frank managed to convince Gerard to ride the Buzz Light-year ride, much to Gerard’s dismay.

The ride consisted of shooting aliens and spinning your car around and around. Frank took advantage of the opportunity to make himself dizzier than he ever could have gotten on his own. By the end of the ride both of them exited with no more than one hundred points to their name, as well as heads that felt as if they were about to spin right off their necks.

“Let’s go ride Splash Mountain,” Frank slurred, his words joining through his headache. Gerard didn’t disapprove the idea. He had heard of Splash Mountain and decided it would be a fun ride. They had about two hours before the parade would start, and they had already hit two of the themes in Magic Kingdom. Why not, he finally concluded.

After a few minutes of standing in line and nervous pointing towards the many signs saying “you will get wet,” they got into one of the logs. They watched the carefully-put together story unfold in front of them.

One of the robots was within arms length of Frank, so of course, Frank being Frank, he leaned out to grab onto it. His fingers curled around the robot’s fishing rod. Almost immediately after his fingers brushed against the robot, the music suddenly died away. A low monotonous voice filled the loud speakers, “We are sorry, Splash Mountain has broken down. Wait a moment, please.”

He wailed, “I broke the ride! Gerard, they’re gonna come and arrest me and—”

“You didn’t break the ride,” Gerard hushed the seriously nervous Frank. He placed his arm around the man and hugged him tightly. The ride came back and Frank sighed in relief, glad that it honestly wasn’t him who had shut down the ride momentarily.

At one point, the fox was standing on the bear’s ass, and the bear was moving in and out of a thicket of bushes. Frank leaned towards Gerard and muttered, “that looks like they’re fucking each other…,” in a low voice.

Gerard choked.

They ended the ride soaked to the core, having been sitting in the front. Despite being cold, Frank sang along when the chickens chirped to “Zip-a-di-do-dah” in a very nasal voice.

Once off, they spent the rest of their time mainly sight-seeing. They found their way back to Cinderella’s castle and saw Bob, Ray, and Mikey already waiting for them. Mikey was hanging off the side of the railing, Bob standing with his hands in his pockets awkwardly, and Ray perched on the railing coolly. Frank plopped himself down on the cobble street and begged Gerard to go get him cotton candy.

He gave in after much begging and went to go find it. After a bit of searching, he found the vendor. The parade had started so the crowd was thick around the street. He saw Aladdin rolling down the street towards them. He clutched the bag tightly and returned to where his friends were hiding, handing the bag wordlessly to Frank. He squealed and ripped the bag open, hand diving in to grab a handful before shoving it in his mouth.

The parade passed by languorously, Frank humming his part to “Welcome to the Black Parade,” the sound contrasting with the lyrics to the rather happy song that was being played. The lyrics mainly went, “if you believe in magic, all of your dreams will come true,” randomly punctuated with the words of one of the many Disney characters who had their dream come true.

When the parade was over, they quickly ushered out and caught the bus to the Dolphin just as it was leaving. They stood together, surrounded by young children, before getting off as quickly as they could at the hotel.

It took a moment for the boat to arrive, in which case the boys amused one another with stories of how their day went. Mikey spoke of how wonderful it was to ride an elephant. Bob and Ray snorted with laughter at how the Pirates of the Caribbean ride looked a bit too real, and one of the robots seemed to be broken. Frank told them of his amazing thought that Splash Mountain was promoting homosexuals, which caused the three to roll with laughter.

The boat came and they quickly claimed the back. Mikey sprawled on the ground while Frankie took an edge, trying to dip his fingers into the water as he did so. “I want to catch a fishie and name him Nemo!” he exclaimed when Gerard gave him a perplexed look. Mikey began to sing “twinkle, twinkle, little star,” moving on to other nursery rhymes after he had sung that song over and over.

“Where are we gonna eat?” Bob asked, placing the camera down on the seat to stand up and examine the water. He looked out at the hotel they had just passed, the Boardwalk and watched the twinkling lights. It took a few moments but Epcot came into view after a moment.

“I vote Japan,” Gerard said.

“No, France!” Frank shot back from the corner of the boat.

“Mesopotamia!” Mikey exploded. Everyone stared before he huffed and said “fine, Australia.”

Ray shrugged and mumbled “what ever, I don’t care.”

Bob offered his opinion weakly. “I’d like to eat in Germany.”

“Hey. Why don’t we get something to eat from all those places? Nothing big. Just like something to eat while walking. France we can get a crepe, Japan we can get sushi, Australia we can get what ever they’re offering, Germany, a hot dog or something.”

They agreed on the plan just as the boat pulled into the Epcot dock. Judging by the countries they wanted to visit and the obscure map, they decided to turn right, where France was the first top. Frank skipped across the bridge and was already in line by the time the others arrived. They decided to share two crepes, which they ate while walking to Germany, exclaiming how good it was.

When they got to Germany, they ate the schnitzel and chugged a can of beer (Gerard passed over the alcohol, however) between them. They snatched food from Japan, as well as from Australia, when suddenly a man over the loud speaker informed them that the firework show would begin in ten minutes.

They quickly claimed a bench together and sat down. Mikey found his way onto Bob’s lap, where he sat with his legs crossed. He batted his eyes at Bob, who rolled his eyes and stared out at the lake. Ray sat on the ground, legs pulled towards his chest and his head tilted back against the bench. Frank used the extra space to curl his legs out to the side of him, resting his head on Gerard’s shoulder.

Gerard, a reflex, reached out and wrapped his arm around Frank. Frank blinked for a moment before smiling, a small blush creeping in his cheeks. Gerard just smiled back as Frank snuggled sweetly into Gerard’s arm.

The firework show began and their attention was immediately captivated by the bright colors forming in the sky. If there was ever a shortage of fireworks, Gerard would know why—Disney stole them all.

It truly was very pretty. The small, spinning glove in the middle of the lake added to it, as did the lilting music. He felt Frank’s body heat thrum though his own body and shivered for entirely different reasons than cold. Frank felt the tremor and looked up, confused and even a bit worried, if Gerard was reading the messages in his eyes correctly. Frank scooted up a bit, his face closer to Gerard’s face, and his mouth went dry.

Memories of the many nights the two had kissed flooded into Gerard’s mind. They had all been on stage, never for themselves…but, even within the kisses, he could sense the desperation beneath each movement. Each brush was more than that—it wanted more, begged for more, but both were just too afraid to give in to the temptation. His arm curled unknowingly around Frank.

He looked up. Gerard felt his breath roll across his neck, so his eyes wandered down to look into Frank’s eyes. They held gazes for a moment before they moved closer. Just a bit closer, nothing to exclaim and squeal over. But it was enough that they shut their eyes, moving closer and closer, lips parting for the kiss.

As their lips touched, the loud bang of an extremely explosive set of fireworks set them off. Frank yelped, slipping off the bench and onto the street. Gerard jumped, bumping his head on a low-lying tree. Ray stared at the fallen form of Frank before letting out a bark of laughter. Mikey grinned and pointed to Frank. “Wow, Frank. You really are gracious.”

Bob let out an exclamation of disappointment as he pouted. “Dammit! I didn’t get that on camera. That would have been amazing. You just randomly falling off the bench.”

As Frank lay on the street, his eyes caught Gerard’s. It took a moment, but his lips twisted into a small smile as the last of the fireworks crackled above. Gerard returned the smile, reaching out a hand to pull Frank back up, an invitation for him to curl up next to him and maybe, later, try again.