The Stars Around Venus
Title: The Stars Around Venus
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
Rating: PG-13
Genre: One shot, romance
Synopsis: He's Gerard's muse, as he's been told.
A/N: My first mcr fic! I've been in the fandom for so many years, and I can't believe this is my first one. Anyway, enjoy!
He never thought it would be this way. When he was growing up, he knew he was the one someone would be pining over, knew he would be the one to drop down on one knee and make an honest woman out of someone. But nothing he knew back then matters now, because Gerard is in his life, and everything has been turned upside down.
Of course, he can’t marry Gerard. But he imagines it, every second he can. It’s not a normal wedding, though, it’s one without family or friends or a priest or anything. It’s just the two of them, and most of the time they’re outside, sitting in the grass, and his head is in Gerard’s lap and Gerard’s playing with his hair, and everything feels right. And Gerard gives him a ring, a simple ring, and he tries not to cry like a little bitch but he can’t help it, and he hugs him and kisses him with all he’s got, because Gerard is all he’s got.
He’s Gerard’s muse, as he’s been told, and every night he watches Gerard bent over his desk, hair falling in his face, scribbling furiously on crumpled paper. Gerard is a genius, but he’s a tragic genius, and it kills him every day. He’s a genius because his words are like water, they just flow and they’re refreshing, but he’s tragic in the way that the water is tainted with blood, and the river is shrouded in darkness and thoughts of doom. He doesn’t know how to handle Gerard when he gets like this. He wishes he knew how.
He begs him to let it show, let the happiness show that he knows is deep inside Gerard, begs him with his mouth and his hands, trying to show Gerard just how much he’s worth by practically worshipping him.
“If only you saw yourself like I see you,” Frank breaths, kissing his cheeks and his jaw and anywhere he can. “You’d realize just how important you are.”
“But alas, i’m damned to this existence,” he says, with a far off look in his eyes that scares Frank immensely. He has a feeling he’ll be comforting Gerard for the next few hours.
When he gets that look in his eyes, Frank knows he’s gonna lose it. . He always looks like this before he falls apart, drifting off into nothingness and then, like a ton of bricks, the sadness hits. And when the sadness hits, Frank can do nothing but hold him. Nothing but hold him and tell him that everything will be okay, even though he knows that it’s probably a lie -- there’s nothing else to say or do. He can’t take the sadness away, although he wishes he could. Every time he throws a penny in a well or sees the first star in the night, he prays to the heavens and god and the angels to make Gerard better, make him happy, make the sadness go away.
When Gerard has an episode, sometimes he cries too. He tries not to cry because that’s selfish, this is about Gerard and not him, but sometimes the image of tears running down Gerard’s face, the man he loves so much, is too heartbreaking. He holds Gerard as close to him as humanly possible, kisses his hair, and makes promises. Promises he will follow through on when this is all over, when they can escape and live a normal life. He promises Gerard a house, and they can paint it together, and dates to the beach because he knows how much Gerard loves the water. And maybe, when they go to the beach, they’ll have a child, and they’ll teach them how to swim and how to catch hermit crabs amongst the rocks, and he promises this to Gerard to give him something to look forward to.
Watching Gerard have an episode is by far the scariest thing he’s ever had to do. He watched someone get a seizure, get hit by a car, and someone get their finger cut clean off. Those all pale in comparison to what he’s seen Gerard go through. Gerard broke a mirror with his fist, and there was blood everywhere. He collapsed to the ground because he was shaking too much, and once, wouldn’t let Frank help him.
“Go away!” he screamed, pushing Frank away from him, trying to hide his face in his hands. “I don’t need your help, i’m fine!”
“Can you stop being such a fucking moron?” he yelled back, grabbing Gerard’s wrist, and he noticed he was shaking. “You’re not okay, I know you’re not. I love you, why can’t you let me help you?”
“Because I don’t want you to see me like this!” he admitted, finally uncovering his face to reveal tear stained cheeks and red eyes. He was practically bawling now, and Frank just had to run over to him.
“You don’t have to hide from me,” he said, rubbing Gerard’s back as he cried.
That night he wrote. He wrote a song that was amazing, fantastic, and every other word to describe the most incredible song ever written. He found the loose leaf sheet on Gerard’s desk, in his scratchy handwriting in smudged black ink. It was about a man made of glass, and it was brilliant. It was a shame it would never be heard. Gerard writes a lot of songs that will never be played, simply created as a coping mechanism.
Frank lives off of the moments where he’s allowed to dig down deep, to see the man that he knows is deep inside Gerard, the man that wants to live, wants to smile, and he lives off Gerard. When he hums with his head in Frank’s lap and they’re on the couch, just watching tv, that’s when it hits him. That this is where he’s supposed to be, that this is what his life has been leading up to.
He used to think romance was a load of bullshit. That feeling butterflies in your stomach was a myth, and your heart beating out of your chest was something that only happened in stories.
But everything’s been turned upside down, and the headrush is better than anything he’s ever felt.
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
Rating: PG-13
Genre: One shot, romance
Synopsis: He's Gerard's muse, as he's been told.
A/N: My first mcr fic! I've been in the fandom for so many years, and I can't believe this is my first one. Anyway, enjoy!
He never thought it would be this way. When he was growing up, he knew he was the one someone would be pining over, knew he would be the one to drop down on one knee and make an honest woman out of someone. But nothing he knew back then matters now, because Gerard is in his life, and everything has been turned upside down.
Of course, he can’t marry Gerard. But he imagines it, every second he can. It’s not a normal wedding, though, it’s one without family or friends or a priest or anything. It’s just the two of them, and most of the time they’re outside, sitting in the grass, and his head is in Gerard’s lap and Gerard’s playing with his hair, and everything feels right. And Gerard gives him a ring, a simple ring, and he tries not to cry like a little bitch but he can’t help it, and he hugs him and kisses him with all he’s got, because Gerard is all he’s got.
He’s Gerard’s muse, as he’s been told, and every night he watches Gerard bent over his desk, hair falling in his face, scribbling furiously on crumpled paper. Gerard is a genius, but he’s a tragic genius, and it kills him every day. He’s a genius because his words are like water, they just flow and they’re refreshing, but he’s tragic in the way that the water is tainted with blood, and the river is shrouded in darkness and thoughts of doom. He doesn’t know how to handle Gerard when he gets like this. He wishes he knew how.
He begs him to let it show, let the happiness show that he knows is deep inside Gerard, begs him with his mouth and his hands, trying to show Gerard just how much he’s worth by practically worshipping him.
“If only you saw yourself like I see you,” Frank breaths, kissing his cheeks and his jaw and anywhere he can. “You’d realize just how important you are.”
“But alas, i’m damned to this existence,” he says, with a far off look in his eyes that scares Frank immensely. He has a feeling he’ll be comforting Gerard for the next few hours.
When he gets that look in his eyes, Frank knows he’s gonna lose it. . He always looks like this before he falls apart, drifting off into nothingness and then, like a ton of bricks, the sadness hits. And when the sadness hits, Frank can do nothing but hold him. Nothing but hold him and tell him that everything will be okay, even though he knows that it’s probably a lie -- there’s nothing else to say or do. He can’t take the sadness away, although he wishes he could. Every time he throws a penny in a well or sees the first star in the night, he prays to the heavens and god and the angels to make Gerard better, make him happy, make the sadness go away.
When Gerard has an episode, sometimes he cries too. He tries not to cry because that’s selfish, this is about Gerard and not him, but sometimes the image of tears running down Gerard’s face, the man he loves so much, is too heartbreaking. He holds Gerard as close to him as humanly possible, kisses his hair, and makes promises. Promises he will follow through on when this is all over, when they can escape and live a normal life. He promises Gerard a house, and they can paint it together, and dates to the beach because he knows how much Gerard loves the water. And maybe, when they go to the beach, they’ll have a child, and they’ll teach them how to swim and how to catch hermit crabs amongst the rocks, and he promises this to Gerard to give him something to look forward to.
Watching Gerard have an episode is by far the scariest thing he’s ever had to do. He watched someone get a seizure, get hit by a car, and someone get their finger cut clean off. Those all pale in comparison to what he’s seen Gerard go through. Gerard broke a mirror with his fist, and there was blood everywhere. He collapsed to the ground because he was shaking too much, and once, wouldn’t let Frank help him.
“Go away!” he screamed, pushing Frank away from him, trying to hide his face in his hands. “I don’t need your help, i’m fine!”
“Can you stop being such a fucking moron?” he yelled back, grabbing Gerard’s wrist, and he noticed he was shaking. “You’re not okay, I know you’re not. I love you, why can’t you let me help you?”
“Because I don’t want you to see me like this!” he admitted, finally uncovering his face to reveal tear stained cheeks and red eyes. He was practically bawling now, and Frank just had to run over to him.
“You don’t have to hide from me,” he said, rubbing Gerard’s back as he cried.
That night he wrote. He wrote a song that was amazing, fantastic, and every other word to describe the most incredible song ever written. He found the loose leaf sheet on Gerard’s desk, in his scratchy handwriting in smudged black ink. It was about a man made of glass, and it was brilliant. It was a shame it would never be heard. Gerard writes a lot of songs that will never be played, simply created as a coping mechanism.
Frank lives off of the moments where he’s allowed to dig down deep, to see the man that he knows is deep inside Gerard, the man that wants to live, wants to smile, and he lives off Gerard. When he hums with his head in Frank’s lap and they’re on the couch, just watching tv, that’s when it hits him. That this is where he’s supposed to be, that this is what his life has been leading up to.
He used to think romance was a load of bullshit. That feeling butterflies in your stomach was a myth, and your heart beating out of your chest was something that only happened in stories.
But everything’s been turned upside down, and the headrush is better than anything he’s ever felt.