fic.
Previous Chapters:
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Gerard had a strong grip on Frank's arm, dragging him over to the large steel quonset, the direction they decided Mikey had wondered off to. It was the logical solution to the Missing-Mikey problem - well, as logical as they could get, since Gerard had downed about half a bottle of vodka, straight and Frank, a few beers prior to the Missing-Mikey problem. The large steel building normally used to store farm machinery was empty of tractors or swathers or combines and replaced with bodies of hundreds of kids. Loud music was floating through the night air and from what Frank could see, everyone was dancing or drinking in the quonset or fucking in the bush.
As Gerard pulled Frank past a group of kids smoking weed by the bonfire and into the steel building, Frank caught a quick glimpse of Carter with a bunch of jocks sitting on the end of one of the many picnic tables set up in the quonset. Thankfully, Carter didn’t see him. Other people were grinding against each other or dancing on top of the surrounding picnic tables to the beat of the loud techno bass line as Frank and Gerard manoeuvred past them. Over-sized speakers were set in each corner of the quonset and there were a large group of girls swarming in front of a dude with a laptop and a soundboard. How the hell could Carter afford a DJ? Frank shrugged, confused, realizing he must as came to a stop when Gerard leant over and whispered in his ear, "come on", sending unexpected shivers all over Frank’s body and then Gerard was dragging him over to the direction of the table where the keg was and where bottles of almost any alcoholic beverage you could name were sitting.
Prior to losing Mikey, Frank and Gerard - or more like, Gerard - wanted to stay back at the car and warm up for the party. "Warm up" meant Gerard chain smoking and drinking half the bottle of vodka in less than half an hour. Frank had about four beers and some of Gerard’s vodka - he didn't really keep track - and listened to Gerard chatter about how cool it was that they were in the "woods". Sure, there were many trees and the mountains, but yeah. Frank could tell Gerard was getting tipsy a little too fast and maybe a little too touchy-feely since Gerard was practically groping Frank while they had sat and drank on the hood of the "piece of shit car" as Gerard called it. After drinking and talking - more like, Gerard talking into Frank's neck and Frank not stopping it - they left to find where Mikey went to since he ditched them as soon as he hopped out of the car.
Frank's bicep was sort of going numb as Gerard continued pulling him along, until they finally reached the table with all the drinks on it. He was relieved he hadn't physically come in contact with Carter and Frank's face was already a mess as is and he didn't want it damaged any further. He hadn't run into any of the stupid jocks either, due to the quonset being filled with hundreds of kids from school and surrounding towns. It was a little uncomfortable having barely any room to move - let alone breath - being pressed against whoever was nearest to you. Frank was currently pressed tightly against Gerard, Gerard's left arm snug around Frank's waist as Gerard skilfully poured another drink into a plastic cup with his free hand. He raised the cup to his lips and gulped down some of the beverage and handed the cup to Frank.
Lifting the cup to his lips, Frank tried to down the drink as fast as Gerard did. It tasted awful, burning his tongue and throat, causing him to cough. He was only used to beer and it took quite an amount of that to give him that buzz from the drink. Gerard quickly grabbed a bottle of juice and poured it into the cup and handed it to Frank. Luckily, that helped.
Gerard poured himself another drink, downed it, swayed a bit and leaned against Frank. He was almost as close as the other people were that were grinding against each other. Frank looked at everyone, seeing no Carter or Mikey for that matter, and rested his head against Gerard's shoulder. Gerard, probably taking this as a sign, pulled Frank closer and kissed the top of Frank's head. Gerard's lips were warm on Frank's forehead, but maybe that was a little too much PDA, Frank frowned. This was so confusing.
A little nervous from the close proximity between himself and Gerard, Frank glanced around a little anxiously, hoping nobody would notice. Frank heard what people did to anyone whose sexuality wasn't straight around this area. They'd either report them because it was illegal or shout profanities at them or beat them up.
"Worried?" Gerard asked a little loudly over the music, breathing into Frank's neck. Frank could smell the strong stench of the beer, vodka and whatever else from Gerard's breath and feel Gerard's hand sliding from his waist to his hip to under Frank's t-shirt, thumbing at the skin. Frank couldn't help but feeling a little frustrated and confused because Gerard was always touching him leaving mixed signals all over the place. Was Frank the only one that remembered that Gerard had a girlfriend? Maybe Gerard would just forget about his damn girlfriend and get it on with Frank already - not already, again, Frank corrected himself. It was getting fucking irritating and made all the blood in Frank's body rush to his groin. And this was no real place to have popped a hard on. Frank sighed.
Tilting his head up and pulling away from Gerard a bit, so he could look him in the eye, Frank answered, "I'm little worried, I guess. Fucking homophobes would kill us if they saw us right now. Motherfuckers. I hate this state. It sucks ass." Frank said, pouting and paused for a moment feeling the buzz of the alcohol set in. He looked away from Gerard's half-lidded gaze; Gerard probably wasn't listening since he was staring at Frank's lips the whole time during Frank's rant. Frank felt his cheeks heat up, warm stirrings at the pit of his stomach and glanced down at Gerard’s hand on his hip and placed his own hand on top of it. "Maybe, we could leave that to somewhere more, um... private," Frank murmured into Gerard's neck, looking up to check that nobody was looking - everyone was too busy dancing - and boldly ran his tongue over the bruise he had left on Gerard's neck the previous night in that shed, tasting the salt that lingered on Gerard's skin. He could feel Gerard shiver and stretch his neck out for better access and as tempting as it was, Frank heard a loud rap song now playing, reminding him of where they were.
Maybe it was in alcohol in his bloodstream or the loud beat of the music, but Frank was certainly coming out of his comfort zone and he liked it. And now all he wanted to do was everything that was possibly illegal to Gerard. He set his hands on Gerard's shoulders and smirked up at him.
"Wanna go to the car?" Gerard murmured, pupils dilated, both his hands at the small of Frank's back, pushing their hips together slowly.
Frank gasped, at the feeling of Gerard hard against his hip and some kids shoving past them, obviously ignoring them, to get to the booze. Frank looked up lazily at Gerard and nodded, licking his lips. He did want this.
Gerard wrapped his arms around Frank's waist; his hands resting at the top of Frank's belt buckle, perhaps a little too close to where Frank fucking wished they could be. Gerard walked closely behind him, steering them past the other kids. It was getting really hot in the quonset and Gerard flush against him, hips against Frank's ass. Frank's mouth dropped mouth, struggling to breath because his heart was pounding a million beats a minute and his head fuzzy and he could fucking feel Gerard's body, close and warm.
Turning around, clumsily and stumbling a little, Frank collapsed into Gerard, his hands around Gerard's neck and Gerard's relocated at the small of Frank's back once again. Frank rolled his hips against Gerard's, eyes meeting Gerard's heated stare and was about to bring their parted lips together when -
"Well, what do you know? Chicken Boy has a boyfriend."
Frank scrambled off Gerard and turned to where the voice came from. Carter.
Carter was with two other of his stupid jock friends, all of which had stern grimaces etched on their fucking ugly jock faces and now Frank's head throbbed and he wished that he could fucking die. Now, he was going to get beat up again, for the second time that day, and then Gerard would see what an idiot Frank truly was.
Carter walked up to Frank, ignoring Gerard and shoved Frank against the something hard and wooden. It was a picnic table that kids were still dancing on and nobody seemed to notice the situation or possible fight that was about to occur.
Frank's hip ached from the shove as he shook his hair out of his face, humiliated. He looked up at Carter who laughing with his friends as other kids walked past unaware. He turned to see where Gerard went to, but Gerard was gone. Tears were brimming at the cover of Frank's eyes, when he realized that Gerard had just taken off again... leaving him to get beat up.
"Where'd your boyfriend go, Iero? That's what you get for being a fag, your fucking gay boyfriend runs off like the pussy he is!" laughed Carter, cruelly, hand fisted in the front of Frank's t-shirt, whipping him towards the other jocks.
Stumbling, as Carter let him go, Frank fell to the ground, his tailbone hurting and his vision blurry.
They kept laughing at Frank, until another jock asked, "What the fuck are you doing here anyway, Chicken Boy?" He kicked a bunch of dirt at Frank, bringing the other guys' laughter up a level. "Nobody would invite you, you fucking homo."
"Yeah, I'll take care of this freak and show him what happens when he goes around getting it up the ass!" Carter said, yanking Frank off the ground. He pulled Frank past the unaware kids to outside the quonset, the darkness of the summer night enveloping them both. Frank felt bile coming up his throat, his stomach hurt and his eyes hurt because of the fucking dirt they kicked at him and he wished he knew where Gerard was.
"I'll show you what you get, Chicken Boy," Carter said, slamming Frank against the side of the building and raising his fist. Frank cringed, closing his eyes, expecting the blow to his face, when the sound of broken glass echoed against the steel siding of the quonset.
"Get the fuck away from him."
Frank's eyes snapped open and turned to see Gerard walking up to Carter, clutching a broken beer bottle. Anger almost radiating off of him, his eyes manic and his teeth clenched together, Gerard looked fucking insane. Even Frank couldn't help feeling freaked out, Gerard appeared fucking homicidal bringing the broken bottle up from against his side and smirking sadistically. Carter automatically let go of Frank and backed away from Gerard.
"What are you doing, man?" asked Carter, anxiously. Frank had never heard Carter's voice sound so high and had never seen Carter look so scared.
"If you fucking touch him, I'll shove this thing through your fucking eye," Gerard growled, finger tapping against the sharp glass, the moonlight illuminating the bottle.
Carter gulped visually and eyed Gerard. "You're a gay fag; you don't know how to fight." Carter stepped closer, his fat hands forming into fists at his side.
Silence. Frank stared nervously from Gerard to Carter, heart racing and head aching.
Suddenly, laughter. It was loud and manic and cruel. Frank whipped his head in the direction of the laughter.
Gerard was laughing crazily and ran his finger along the sharp edges of bottle, a little stream of blood emerging from his finger. He grinned up at Carter, aggression and insanity lining his eyes. He took a step closer, hovering over Carter and jabbed him in the forehead with his bleeding finger, rubbing the blood around. He had about a couple inches in height over Carter, but in fight, Frank figured Carter took take Gerard down, but he had never see his side of Gerard before and it was scary.
"I'm from New Jersey, asshole. I've been in fights like this all the time. And I know how to hide a fucking body," Gerard snarled, still laughing and breathing hard, raising the bottle to hit Carter with it. Frank bit his lip, nervously, he wasn't sure he'd want to see this.
"Okay. Okay, man," Carter said, frantically, eyes wide with fear, just as Gerard was about to strike him. "I won't touch him." Carter quickly shot a sideway glance at Frank. "Put down the bottle, man. Just put it down."
Frank turned to Gerard. Gerard was smiling insanely and tapped the bottle against the side of the quonset, the sound of glass echoing off the steel. "Then get the fuck away frpm here," Gerard said, bringing the bottle up to twirl it around in his other hand, sneering at Carter.
"Fucking crazy. Okay. Okay," Carter mumbled, waddling away, almost falling to the ground. He kept turning back at Gerard and was about to turn to the front of the quonset when Gerard ran up to Carter and threw him roughly against the side of the building.
"I forgot something," Gerard said, smashing the bottle against the siding and bringing his hand to Carter’s chest, shoving him hard against the quonset. Frank could see Gerard's right hand form a fist. Gerard smirked at Carter's horrified expression and whipped his fist into the side of Carter's mouth, creating a loud bang against the steel siding and said, "I'm not a 'gay fag', asshole. I'm bi."
Frank mouth dropped open with shock, as he watched Gerard back away from Carter. Carter spitting out blood from the side of his mouth. Carter quickly ran off, well, not quickly because he was fucking obese, but whatever. Frank dashed over to Gerard, pulling him into a strong embrace.
"That was fucking amazing... you're fucking amazing," Frank murmured against Gerard's chest as Gerard lifted his hand to run it over Frank's back.
"Ow," Gerard muttered, as his pulled his hand off Frank's back. His knuckles were turning red-ish and Frank could tell it would start swelling soon.
They decided to get an ice pack from the house, find Mikey and head home. Mikey was supposed to be their designated driver - but Frank felt like he and Gerard both sobered up a bit - because the only reason Mikey wanted to go the party was to hook with "that hot chick from the Crop Hop".
As Frank and Gerard made their way into the house, they heard Mikey and some girl's - Carter's cousin, Alicia, Frank reminded himself - voices coming the living room area. They figured that Mikey and Alicia would be making out or something, but when they entered the room, they found Alicia handing Mikey a bass guitar and muttering something about using finger three on the fourth fret instead of finger two.
"Hey, we have company," said Alicia, pulling herself off the wooden panel of the floor and dusting off her jeans.
"Oh!" Mikey exclaimed, getting to his feet. "That's my brother," Mikey pointed them, "- the dude making faces and holding his hand," he paused and pointed at Frank, "and that's Frank - our friend. We're staying at his farm."
"Yeah," Alicia said, smiling up at them, taking her bass out of Mikey's hands. "I met Frank this morning in a shed."
Mikey and Gerard just shrugged, confused about her comment, but didn't bother asking.
After exchanging hello's and making small talk, Alicia got Gerard an icepack for his hand and Mikey raised his eyebrows skeptically when Frank told them that Gerard had gotten into a fight.
They finally made it back to Frank's farm by 3 AM since Mikey made them stay for another hour because he wanted to show them some song Alicia taught him. The drive home was a little irritating because Mikey wouldn't shut up about how amazing Alicia was, but it didn't bother Frank so much. He just rested his head against Gerard's shoulder in the back seat and Gerard held his hand, smiling.
*
The past few days were awesome. Frank couldn't describe them any better than that. Nobody was bothering him at school. Carter was fucking avoiding him and so were the other jocks, too. School was finishing up, as Frank only had final exams this week, which sucked, but he was fucking thrilled he'd never have to go back. He'd only have to go for school for his exams and he didn't bother going home on the bus anymore since Mikey and Gerard picked him up. They’d go to the diner and meet up with Alicia, or they'd go to the lake and then Alicia and Mikey go to the beach while Frank and Gerard would hang on swing sets and talk while Gerard sketched. Frank couldn't be happier.
One thing was bothering Frank though. It was strange that Gerard hadn't tried to kiss him since the party a few days ago. They'd have their moments though, a lingering touch or a heated gaze, but Gerard didn't kiss him and it was fucking frustrating. Another thing that was annoying as hell was that Gerard wouldn't break up with his girlfriend either. Frank heard Gerard talking to her on his cell phone from when Frank sort of lurked outside the guest room Gerard and Mikey stayed in. Frank wanted to ask Gerard why he had fucking flirted with Frank while they were sort of tipsy at the party and why he punched Carter, while defending Frank. Frank would ask Mikey about it, but Mikey was too occupied with Alicia.
Alicia was a frequent guest to Frank's house now and Donna and Frank's mom took a liking to her. She was polite and funny and confident, but Frank's dad muttered under his breath to Frank that he thought that she didn't have a "real job", even though she was working merch and he also thought she was in a cult because of the way she dressed. He said the same of Mikey and Gerard, but not to their faces. He'd tell Frank that no straight, normal man would wear tight pants like the Ways did and Frank found it infuriating, but he'd just roll his eyes at his dad and not say anything.
When Frank would get pissed off at his dad, he'd usually go to his room and play guitar or go to the chickens, chat with them and feed them. And now, it seemed, Gerard would follow Frank out and sometimes sketch Frank's interactions with the chicks in his drawing pad. It was comforting having someone other than those baby chickens to confide in, someone that could actually reply back and he it made him feel like less of a newb. But it made Frank fucking furious when Gerard's cell phone would ring and Gerard would dig into his pockets and end up talking to his girlfriend and ignore Frank.
Then, Frank would get annoyed and take off to his tree house that he hadn't used since he was twelve - he was using it more often now - because with Gerard on the phone, Frank had no one else to talk to, since Mikey and Alicia were playing bass in the guest room and then stealing Frank's cat, Blindman to dress him up in dolls clothes. Sucks for the cat, Frank had thought.
So, Frank would study for his exams in the tree house. He'd climb up into the tree house and study until his brain hurt. The tree house was peaceful and quite spacious; it resembled a little house with a log siding and a flat wooden roof, two trees holding it up and empty windows so the sun could shine in. Frank remembered working on it with his dad when they actually got along, but times changes a lot.
Usually, when Gerard realized Frank had took off, Gerard would come up to tree house and ask Frank what was wrong, to which Frank would reply, he had to study and then Gerard would stay up in the tree house and smoke and draw. Frank guessed that Gerard thought Frank just studying, but he was ignoring Gerard. He guessed Gerard didn't take the hint that Frank didn't want anyone around. Mainly because Frank felt like a stupid newb, since they barely discussed what happened between them the night of that party.
Today was no different. It was Wednesday and two more exams left, a free day off on Friday and then Graduation on Saturday. Frank didn't know if the Ways were staying for his Graduation, but Frank didn't really want to go in the first place. He didn't have to go to the ceremony, but his parents definitely wanted him to, so they could take pictures and hope that he could possibly get an award or a scholarship. They kind of forced him to apply for scholarships and he did apply to the University of Virginia in Charlottesville - a forty minute drive away - but as soon as he received his acceptance letter, he promptly threw it in the garbage, not even bothering to tell his parents he was accepted. Frank didn't see the point of going. He wanted to go to live with his grandparents, work, move somewhere and join a band. But, by the way things were going the past few days, Frank was thinking about moving to New Jersey instead. Of course he didn't tell Gerard or Mikey anything about the plan, but he probably could stay with them and work and Mikey was always talking about the punk scene in Jersey and bands needing guitarists. All Frank wanted to do was get away from that farm and be something and show everyone he wasn't just "The Chicken Boy".
Frank was currently seated on the floor of his tree house, school text books scattered on the wooden floor. The walls of the tree house were covered with Gerard's drawings of zombie chickens biting off the heads of screaming jocks and the smell of stale cigarettes lingered through the air.
He had just escaped the house because his dad was being a douche again. They were having dinner and Mikey was telling everyone about a song he had just learnt and he had asked if Frank wanted to learn the guitar parts and then... Dad interrupted Mikey, saying that Frank was just wasting his time on music so there was no point in learning the song. After that, Frank fled the house. Frank gritted his teeth and slammed down his text at the memory. So far, nobody had come out to check on him or whatever and it had been about an hour since the incident.
"Hey."
Frank snapped his head to the right, watching Gerard climb into tree house and take a seat across from him.
"Hey," Frank answered back, looking back down at his notebooks. He couldn't concentrate on cellular theories now.
"He's wrong, you know."
Frank looked up. Gerard was already pulling a few pigment liner pens from his jacket pocket, sketchbook laid out in front of him.
"No shit," Frank answered. "It's just... I fucking wish Dad would take me seriously for once. And be able to trust me to make my own decisions. Like, I can't even be myself around him. But I wish he'd just understand and... I don't know," Frank said, bringing his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on the ripped knees. "I just sometimes think I won't be able to like, make it in band or something because everyone thinks I can't, but I know I could make it, but what if I fail? Then they'd be right and I'd be nothing," Frank watched Gerard pull out a gum eraser and a non-repro blue pencil. How much stuff could he keep stored in the pockets of his jacket?
"Yeah, but you believe that you can do what you want, right?" Gerard asked, pulling his sketchbook into his lap, his pencil sweeping across the page. "I think it gets to the point where you need to stop listening to whatever anyone else says and just do what you want. You trust yourself and you're taking yourself seriously? Why does anyone else's opinion matter? I know your dad can be a real dick and you guys don't see eye to eye on certain things, but it's your life and if you do what makes you happy, nothing else matters."
Gerard looked up from his drawing and smiled at Frank, "It's kind of tough doing it on your own, without someone right next to you. But I am here for you now, so I don't think you have anything to worry about."
Frank gave him a lop-sided grin and asked, "What are you drawing?" He didn't know what Gerard had been drawing and concentrating on so determinedly, other then the drawings put up on the wall of the tree house. He had asked him repeatedly the day before and the day before that. But Gerard didn't give.
"I'm not done it yet," Gerard answered, looking up at Frank for a brief second and then back to his paper, switching his pencil for a pen and running it across the paper swiftly.
"I want to see. I don't care if it's finished or not," Frank answered. He raised his eyebrows mischievously, "Unless you're hiding it from me... Are you drawing pornographic material?" Gerard's jaw dropped open and flung his hand over his mouth, overdramatically. Frank laughed. "So that's why you're ending it! I knew it!"
Gerard's eyes widened in shock and he clutched his sketchbook to his chest, "Fuck! You caught me!" He said, sarcastically, smirking at Frank and Frank laughed. "No. Seriously, it's just that I don't like showing my stuff until I'm finished it. It would be like... playing an unfinished song live in front of an audience, you know? Like, sure it might sound alright and people would like what they hear, but they wouldn't get the whole picture, how great it's supposed to be, how much potential it has, until it's completed."
"Wow, man. How do you do that?" Frank asked, tilting his head against his kneecap.
"Do what?"
"I dunno. You make things make sense," Frank said, blushing because it was a lame answer. What a newb, he thought of himself.
"I dunno. 'How do you do that'?" Gerard asked, mimicking Frank's question. Closing his sketchbook and tossing it to the pile of Frank's books, he crawled over and plopped down on his knees in front of Frank, eyeing him and licking his lower lip. He placed his hand on Frank's knee and slid his hand over Frank's.
Frank tried to push back into the side of the building, trying to get away from Gerard's roaming gaze. It made him feel self-conscious and his heart race. Gerard could probably hear Frank's heart beating. It was so fucking loud and there was probably a blush creeping its way up to his face from his neck.
"H - how do I do what?" Frank choked out when Gerard pushed his hands down, heavy on Frank's knees, pushing them down to the wooden floor and slowly climbing into his lap. He settled, bringing his thighs on either side of Frank, nudging their hips together, straddling him.
Gulping, Frank glanced up at Gerard, a nervous sweat breaking out. Gerard was staring at Frank's lips and resting his hands on Frank's shoulders. He brought his hand up and ran his thumb gently over Frank's chin, tilting his face up, his eyes meeting Gerard's. "You make me want to do things like this," Gerard whispered, his breath against Frank's lips, finally leaning in close and bringing their lips together.
And somewhere in distance, a camera focused in on them, the flash flickered and snapped, capturing their moment... not for the memory, but for something completely opposite. Something that tear apart what they were finally becoming.
Okay, this is a quonset, in case you didn't know.
