She looked over at the clock on her night stand, he was fifteen minutes late. They still didn't have their costumes totally together for stupid Rothstein's party, and he thought it was acceptable to be fifteen minutes late. She let out the frustrated breath she had been holding.

She had given up trying to really figure him out long ago, he was uncrackable, steadfast in his being. But, given the state of their relationship lately she had tried once again to understand the handsome mystery that was, Gerard Arthur. He hadn't been himself lately, he had been more distant this past week, more withdrawn. Mostly from her, she realized. And it hurt.

She knew it had something to do with the almost fucking kiss that just never seemed to happen. She should just kiss him, like really kiss him, and get it over with already.

But, then a part of her told her not to.

He had submitted and kissed her once a few years ago, but then he blew it off, wanting nothing to do with it or her in the romantic capacity. Clearly that sent a signal saying to her, “Hey, we're friends, let's keep it that way.” So, she had. She stopped trying to make him jealous, she stopped flirting with him openly. If he wanted to be just friends, than that's what they would be. Did it break her damn heart? Hell to the yeah. Did her body literally ache for his touch? Fuck. Yes. But, if he wasn't going to make a move, neither was she. She had been done vying for his attention, she had made herself available for the taking and he shut her down. So, she stopped.

It didn't stop her feelings from continuing to brew, it just stopped her pathetic attempts to woo him. Now though, she felt as though things were different. They weren't thirteen anymore. She felt something between them, the chemistry was there, the spark was ignited. He moved around her body with a practiced ease that he didn't possess, he was comfortable with her in his arms, he looked at her like he wanted to devour her whole sometimes. Clearly he wanted her, so why didn't he just act on it?

Was she reading the signs wrong?

Was he just generally not interested in her?

Or, was he just scared?

It was hard to picture Gerard scared of anything, he was brooding and scary and didn't give a fuck about anyone or anything. Was he really, underneath all of that angst and black clothing, just insecure?

She shook that thought out of her head as quickly as it had come. This was Gerard Way she was talking about here. He would scowl at her for just thinking that. He wasn't insecure, he said whatever he wanted, to anyone he wanted, at any given time – it was mostly the reason why he got his shit beat after school by the asshole jocks, and why his own knuckles were always bruised. He wasn't insecure, he wasn't.

So, then what the fuck was it? Why didn't he act on his feelings for her – with her assuming that he did in fact have those feelings and she wasn't just fabricating this all in her whimsical little mind.

She glanced over at her bedside table again. Twenty-five minutes late. She was going to kill that son of a bitch and then drag his corpse to this stupid party. Mya would probably think they had the best costumes there, little would she fucking know that she had actually full on murdered that stupid, selfish, black hoodie wearing asshole –

“Hey.”

He had bounded up her stairs and found her sitting on her bed – in costume he noticed, wearing a little pink dress with a nigh neckline and a short skirt – pouting, with her arms crossed tight over her chest. Great, what the fuck did he just walk into.

“You're late.”

He nodded, “Yeah.”

“A half hour late.”

“Okay.”

It was the attitude in which he said it that made her blow up. It had been slow building, the tension between them, she would say just from the past week since the almost kiss, but she knew better. It had been so slowly building since a few years ago, since the first kiss. Usually she would just keep it to herself, bothering him with her feelings about something that they had both silently swore to secrecy wasn't something she was particularly into. But, this was just too much.

She could handle a crank-master-I-have-no-coffee-in-my-system Gerard, she could handle the suicidal Gerard, the I-broke-Bobby-Winters-nose Gerard, the joking sarcastic Gerard; but the real life, whatever-attitude towards her Gerard? That would be a no. No, she couldn't handle that. He wasn't mean to her, not really, it took him actually being frustrated for her to realize it.

“God, you are such an asshole.”

He quirked a brow, “That's not really a newsflash, Lois Lane.”

She let out this frustrated little scream that surprised not only Gerard, but herself too. She stood from where she had been seated on the bed and strutted over to where he was standing in the middle of her room. “Why, why do you have to be so god damn stubborn?”

He couldn't help himself, he was stubborn, and he was always quick to be defensive from years of being bullied and pushed around. “Why do you have to be a bitch about it?”

She looked so appalled as she shoved him with all she had. “You're the one whose always stalking around with a grimace on your face! You're the one who pushes everyone away because you're scared.”

He pushed her back, lightly, very lightly. But, he wanted her to know that even she wasn't allowed to push him around. “Did it ever occur to you, Marjorie,” The way he said her name like she was an ignorant little girl had her fuming.“That maybe I just don't want to talk to you? Maybe I don't want you to know every fucking detail of my life.”

She scoffed and pushed him back, “Maybe I don't want to know. Maybe I'm fed up with being left out and thrown aside by you. We all have to live in Gerard's little world, accommodate you and all your idiosyncrasies, but you can't be fucking bothered to try and figure someone else out and deal with their shit for once.”

He let out a laugh, “Oh, Marjorie. I've been putting up with all of your bullshit since I was six years old. Don't tell me that I've never bothered to try and figure someone out.”

“Well you haven't! You don't know the first thing about how I operate, if you did you'd know that I hate it when you're late. You'd know that I loathe it when you speak to me as though I'm nothing more than a petulant child, and that I think you're vile when you speak to me like I'm everyone else.”

She could see his shoulders drop just slightly from his defensive position as she spoke, but his eyes were still narrowed, still cold. “And, if you knew me half as well as you claimed you did, you'd know that I can't fucking stand it when you act like one of them!”

Her mouth dropped open in shock and appall. Had he just when there? He definitely just when there.

“How dare you! I've spent my whole damn life wrapped up in all of your bullshit, and you have the fucking audacity to call me one of them?”

She was fuming, no scratch that, she was furious. There was no way he was getting out of this one alive, he was going to pay for saying that. She realized right then that they had never fought before, ever, this was their first fight. The first time they'd ever even really raised their voices at each other or called the other names, they were calling each other out on their shit and it wasn't pretty.

Was this it?

Was this the end of her and Gerard before they had ever really started?

He could see that through her intense anger that he had hurt her. A part of him was saying, good, let her be hurt. But, there was a stronger part of him that cared deeply for her, and it hurt him to see that he'd hurt her. It was hard to stop once he'd started though, he was angry, and frustrated, and why did she look so hot when she was flustered?

“Stop using your big speech patterns, Mar, we're not in advanced english right now, there's no teachers that you have to try and suck up too.”

She threw her body against his, pushing him and slapping at his shoulders and chest, he caught her by the upper arms and tried to hold her steady. Then she hit him, she hit him in the face! She had actually just struck him. Now it was his turn to stand in shock and appall.

“I'm so tired of this, of tiptoeing around you with my feelings. You don't like the way I speak? Too fucking bad! You don't like the way I feel? Too fucking bad!”

“Marjorie! Marjorie, stop. Stop.” He grabbed her wrists, stopping her onslaught of attacks. She huffed and blew hair out of her face, snatching her arms away from Gerard and stepping back. “I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, well I'm not.”

“Marjorie – ”
“No, Gerard,” She cut him off. “I mean it. I'm not sorry. I'm tired of not being honest with you, and I'm tired of not knowing if you're being honest with me.”

He looked so confused, and uncomfortable. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...” What did she mean? “I want to kiss you, and I don't want to have to worry about how you'll feel about it.”

He felt winded, like when Mikey had used to punch him in the chest as retaliation for whatever stupid thing he'd done to him. She wanted to kiss him? Wanted being the opportune word. And she was worried that he'd react negatively? Was she serious? Did she not see the way he looked at her so intensely, or the way his body reacted when she was too close? He thought that he had been the one to initiate the almost-kiss last week, he knew that she wanted it, he could see it in her eyes. But, a part of him, the insecure boy in him, told him that she'd never want him. He just though that he wanted it more than her, if she even really wanted it at all. But, apparently, he was wrong. What was going on, did he just wake up in a place that was not his normal life?

What the actual fuck.

“You're worried about me?” He couldn't believe it, he had to be in shock. “Marjorie, if you want to kiss me, just kiss me.”

She was still so hyped up, so angry. “Don't do that. I don't need a throw back to seventh grade, Gerard, I need you to be serious.”

“I am being serious.” He stepped closer to her, bringing a hand up to tuck some of her long hair behind her ear, out of her face. “I'm not someone you have to worry about in that department.”

She couldn't take her eyes off of his, those olive eyes were deep and dark. She quickly leaned up the little bit that she needed to, to reach his now taller frame, and pressed her lips against his. He stood still for a moment, taken off guard by her abruptness, but that quickly dissipated as brought his other hand around her waist and pulled her body flush against his.

She was kissing him. She was kissing Gerard. And not a seventh grade kiss either, oh no, she'd make sure of that. She could feel all of him, feel his strong grip, the heat emanating from him, she could even feel him harden against her hip, guess she no longer had to wonder if it was her causing it – she was internally excited in a major way about that. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, bringing a hand up to burry in his hair. She nipped at his bottom lip, literally dying to deepen the kiss.

She heard him growl in his throat, his grip on her becoming more fierce. His mouth opened up and the hand in his hair became tighter, she ran her tongue across his bottom lip before delving in. He wasn't sure who the moan came from, and he didn't really give a shit as she pushed her hips harder into his.

In this moment she realized that she was the only girl that Gerard had ever kissed, he was probably letting her lead because he simply didn't know how. For whatever reason, that thought empowered her, made her feel sexy and strong. She nipped at his lip again, waiting for him to do the same back, he was a quick study. She moaned as he bit at her lower lip, sweeping his tongue over the bite to sooth it. Yeah, he was going to be good at this, she could tell.

She moved her mouth away from his and he gave a little groan of disappointment that was replaced by a moan once she started leaving hot, open mouthed kisses down his neck. She made her way to his collarbone, how many times had she stared at those collarbones and wonder how he'd react to her licking them. Well, she was about to find out. She peppered it with kisses, she felt how he clenched her tighter and how his breathing became quicker. She then licked his collarbone, loving how he tried to stifle back a moan that turned into a growl once she'd bit it.

He pulled her head back up to his lips, kissing her deeply, holding her to him tightly. It was her turn to moan as he bit and licked at her lips, battling her tongue with his own for dominance.

“Gee – ” She tried to pull away from his mouth, but clearly he wasn't having it, effectively cutting her off with another deep kiss. “Gee,” Kiss. “We really,” Kiss. “Have to get going.” Kiss. Kiss.

He just shook his head and continued to kiss her, “No.”

She finally managed to pull away from him long enough to untangle herself from his embrace, once out she realized how much she ached to be back in it. “Gerard, we're already late. Toro is waiting for us.”

“I really don't care.”

He leaned in to kiss her again, and she let him – because how could she not let him? But, pushed gently at his shoulders. “I mean it, Gee.”

He sighed, running a hand threw his hair. “Fuck, Ray. He can wait.”

“Yeah, but the party can't.”

His brows furrowed in confusion, “I thought we weren't going to the party.” He gestured between them like the kiss meant he could get out of going.

“Oh no, we're going.” And that bossy-mean tone was back in her voice, and it was like their make out session had never happened. She was angry again, how was that even possible? “Now, strip.”

His brows rose, “Uh, what?”

“You heard me, I said strip.” She folded her arms across her chest, her face set into a no-nonsense stare.

“Um, why?”

“Because I'm already in costume, and you are not.” She gestured to the pale pink dress she was wearing, her hair pinned back at the sides, leaving her face exposed. “Now let's go, we don't have all night.”

Was it wrong that her bossy tone was turing him on?

He tried to stop the quick, nervous beating of his heart, and instead set his face into determination. He pulled the shirt over his head, letting it drop to the floor beside him. He then unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants, letting them fall to the ground and then stepping out of them. He stood before her in just a pair of boxers, his eyes steeled and narrowed, his brow quirked. Your move, Asteria.

She turned to grab the outfit she had managed to scrounge up for him, hoping that she wasn't blushing, was she blushing? She handed the khaki dress pants to him first, loving the total disdain on his face at the sight. She used the moment he took to put them on to look him over fully, in all of his pale, freckled glory.

He was thick, pudgy as Mikey called it. And pale, very pale. His broad shoulders were matted with freckles, his collarbones stuck out from his frame, and he just looked delicious.

She handed him the shirt after he had gotten the horrible pants on, she watched as he deftly buttoned it all the way up before handing him the khaki jacket. All in all, he didn't look that bad. He looked strange, and very not Gerard, but not bad. She gave him the glasses and forced him to sit at her vanity so she could style his hair. It was easier because it wasn't as long as it had recently been, and while she had mourned the loss of his shoulder length hair, she was momentarily glad that Donna had forced him to cut it, if only for the sake of their time management. She sprayed some hair spray on his coiffed do and stepped back from her handiwork.

“Not bad, if I do say so myself.” She prided herself.

Gerard just gave a sigh as he looked into the mirror at her vanity, “You owe me big time for this.”

She leaned down and encircled his shoulders with her arms, bringing her head close to his, catching his gaze in the mirror. “I promise I'll make it up to you.” She smiled coyly.

He liked that, he definitely caught on to her meaning. But then something in him switched, the coma that his brain had previously been in for the past ten minutes due to her kiss seemed to finally lift. What were they doing?

He wanted – needed – to know, but for all his might, he couldn't bring himself to ask her.

Were they just, dicking around? Kissing and being best friends?

Was there something more to this?

He didn't want to pollute whatever was going on with feelings if it didn't need be. He didn't know if she'd want that. Maybe she would?

He didn't know.

And that was what made this all the more difficult.

She stood from her position behind him and started to run around her room grabbing the things that she'd need, he too stood from his place at the vanity and watched her. He couldn't help the thoughts looming around in his mind.

She looked up at him from where she was grabbing her giant purse from the floor, stuffing things into it. “Come on, Brad.”

He moved from her vanity and towards where she stood by the door, waiting for him expectantly, but not impatiently anymore. He stood before her, an odd look in his eyes that she couldn't quite place. He moved a piece of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her skin – just as they always did. The moment was so normal and at the same time so not that it made her feel uneasy.

Gerard leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips, he stepped away from her, his eyes still holding her's with that odd look, before moving past her out the door and down the stairs. She let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. What was going on?

This whole situation felt surreal, she knew that they should probably just forgo the party and talk, but...something was holding her back from doing so. She picked up her bag and turned off her bedroom light, following him down the stairs. He was already in his car, waiting. She locked her front door and walked over to his car, throwing her bag in the backseat, knowing that Ray would just move it anyway.

She looked over at him, he was backing out of her driveway without a word. She placed a hand on his thigh and he turned to look at her once they were out of her driveway and on the street. She gave him a small smile and he returned it, looking at her with those intense eyes and for once she couldn't read him. She had no idea what was going on in that head of his, it struck her, more than it probably should of.

He turned up the stereo and let the music drown them, they didn't talk. She knew that she wanted to say something, she just didn't know what. Maybe he just didn't want to talk. She leaned back in the seat, her hand still resting on his thigh, her eyes trained out the window. She let out a breath, this was going to be one long party.

Notes

I'm back! Here's chapter four. Let me know what you all think! Next up, the party!