And In This Pool Of Blood.

Gerard Way was buried deep under a pile of alcohol, pills, cigarettes and art, and no matter how hard he tried, he could never manage to find his way out, not that he wanted to. It was like he thought of himself as something more than human, sipping cyanide from a champagne glass seemed logical. A good way to go. Even some of his closest friends had to admit "If he didn't want to be saved, I guess he's not worth saving."
Frank Iero liked to think he disagreed with this, even though he knew inside somewhere that Gerard was, well, a hopeless case. How can you fix something that doesnt want to be fixed?
Before Frank slept, he'd lie and wonder how someone so broken could laugh so much and make it sound so real. He's still to figure out the answer to that question. He was confused as to why he could love someone so sick, but it was the taste of Gerards lips that kept Frank with him. The strong smell of smoke on his clothes, his quiet humming, the way he'd trace franks tattoos as if drawing them on himself, the way he slept, the way he fucked, the way he smiled. It all drove Frank crazy.
So, he tried to focus on that half, putting every heartbreak, every bit of pain he ever felt with Gerard too the back of his mind, because it didn't matter.
After a tiring day stacking shelves and listening to teenage girls giggle about boy bands at the music store, Frank made it back to his house minutes before eleven pm. He struggled to get the key in the door for a moment, before it was swung open by someone inside. Frank looked up, blinking at Gerard. An intoxicated, ill looking (Also slightly hot, although Frank tried his best to ignore that part.) Gerard Way.
"What are you doing here?" Frank furrowed his eyebrows at the taller boy stood in the door way. Gerard had left just before Frank had left for work, or so he had thought.
"Y-you were meant to call.." He mumbled, looking as if it tired him to open his eyes. "I was worried 'bout, you, Fra-" He stopped mid sentence, giving Frank a chance to move out the way as Gerard threw up on his front porch. He sighed, stepping around the puke and into the house, taking Gerards wrist in the process, and leading him into the kitchen. Gerard took a seat at the kitchen table as Frank wet the corner of an old shirt, leaning over and wiping the sick from around Gerards mouth.
"How much did you have to drink?" Frankie sighed, throwing the shirt in the trash instead of the wash bucket. It'd give his mom less work to do, he guessed.
Gerard shrugged, leaning his elbow on the table top and his chin on his palm. "I don't remember."
After a moment of silence, Frank huffed, walking up behind him and brushing the strands of hair stuck to his forehead behind his ears.
"We ought to get you to sleep." Frank muttered, and led Gee down into his room, laying him on the bed. He switched out the light, but left the blind open, letting the moon turn Gerards pale skin even whiter.
"Frankie." Gerard, half whining, half whispering, called as Frank re-opened his bedroom door.
"What?" He looked back at the boy lay on his bed.
"Hm,"
Frank didn't understand what the slight whimper meant, but he guessed anyway, closing his bedroom door and walking back to the bed where Gerard lay. He crawled under the covers next to him, combing his hair slightly with his fingers.
Gerard, although taller, shuffled down, laying his head on Frankies shoulder and closing his eyes.
Frank couldn't help but marvel over the way Gee's lashes hit his cheek bones, lips parted slightly as his chest rose and fall. He liked to think Gerard was at peace when he slept, but Frank knew, even though he tried to hide it, that his sleep was packed full of horrid dreams. The thought only made Frank shuffle closer to Gerard, tangling a hand in his black hair as if it was the only way to keep a hold of him.
Gerard tried to hide a lot of things from Frank, but he wasn't very good at keeping secrets.
He tried to hide the way he'd sliced into the skin on his upper thigh. He'd been careless and forgotten all about it, letting Frankie notice while they were fucking.
He'd tried to hide the way he flushed his pills down the toilet instead of taking them. He'd lost his temper when they wouldn't flush once, and Frank had come running.
And now Frank knew he was trying to hide the fact that he was in pain, but Frank could see right through his thin, transparent smiles, and it killed him.
"Frankie."
"Mh?" Frank murmured, jotting down another few chords in his book before setting it on his mothers coffee table and looking Gerard in the eyes
"I, um-" He swayed shyly. "I love you."
Frank blinked at Gerard twice before raising a confused eyebrow. "I love you too, Gee, but, is something the matter?"
"No, no." He muttered with a smile, not as fake as his usual grin. "I'm okay, I'm fine, I was just checking." And for the first time in months, Frank took his word for it.
Funny how an hour later he found the same boy, black hair stuck to his face with sweat, lips turned white, and both his pale wrists slashed vertically.

Notes

Sorry if you didn't like it
Also sorry if you did and it hurt you x
Comment what you thought, and if you have suggestions or anything else, that's cool too :) x
~Jess
p.s. there's a 'too' in here somewhere that should be a 'to' but when i went around to edit it, i couldn't find it, so sorry!:(