Your eyes are vacant & stained (frerard)

GERARD’S P.O.V
I felt bad. The horrific feeling of guilt was steeping in. The other day, without Frank’s permission or Frank knowing… I drank more. And it was too much. Too far. And it was too late to turn back. The addiction was growing, however, no way was I going to tell Frank about it. The secret stash of bottles, empty or full, was kept underneath my bed. Not that good of a hiding spot, I know, however, it was good enough. I was too petrified to tell Frank… He’d think of me as a disgrace, he’s be disgusted, maybe not even talk to me again… He could even force me to go to one of those medical places, especially made for addiction… Better or worse, I was keeping it from him. But, he was starting to figure out. He was starting to figure out my alcohol addiction.
- - -
“Extra tutoring today? Around yours?” Frank queried. My mind flashed to my room, it was a tip. There were empty bottles around, I knew that.
“I can’t do mine today, my parents…” I glanced at the floor. It broke my heart to lie to him.
- - -
It was the same lie, over and over again. Frank never asked for the reasoning, though. He trusted me. And I felt so fucking guilty that I was ruining that. Because, I was fucking useless. Then, one day, I just snapped. Something inside me realised that was I was doing, keeping everything from Frank when he was trying his best to help me, was wrong.
- - -
“Frank, sir, Mr Iero,” I called him by all of his names.
“Yes, Gerard?” He glanced up from my bed sheets.
“I’m… I’m…” I suddenly broke down in tears, collapsing in the centre of my room. “I’m a disgrace, you’ll hate me when you know what I’ve done, I’m so sorry,”
The tears were burning my skin as they ran down my cheeks. Frank immediately bounced from my bed and cradled me in his arms, rocking me backwards and forth.
“Hey, I won’t hate you, don’t say that!” Frank stroked my cheeks, wiping the tears away. “Now, tell me, what have you done?”
I crawled towards my bed, and yanked the box full of the alcohol. I shoved it to his feet, and then sprinted upstairs, away from him. Away from the hate I was going to get from him. It was okay, Mikey and my parents were at a parents evening, they wouldn’t see me cry. I curled up on the leather black sofa, wrapping Mum’s blanket around me, snuffling into it, the tears splashing on the soft cloth. I squeezed my eyes shut, the tears rolling from them, and wished for sleep. Wish for an escape from Frank’s hate. Anything was better than Frank thinking I was rubbish and hating me. It was quite a while before Frank came in.
“Fucking hell, Gerard,” Frank breathed, heavily, plonking himself down. “Don’t you fucking run away from me again, I thought you had ran from the house, I’m so dumb,”
“You hate me, don’t you?” I whispered.
“Fuck no,” Frank’s eyes softened and he pulled me on his lap, the blankets still wrapped around my body. He planted a small kiss on my forehead. “Am I really that bad? I would never hate you… Isn’t that obvious?”
Frank clutched my hand and traced a circle with his thumb on it.
“You might not hate me, but…” I was pretty snotty, and it was probably the most unattractive thing he had ever seen. Frank halted me before I could speak.
“I will help you, like I have tried to with the other problems… I can fix you; I can fix this problem… I was like you, but with cigarettes,” Frank removed locks of hair from my face. “And I so badly want to run my hand through your hair… Why does that have to be one of your turn-ons?” Frank complained. I giggled, slightly, snorting a little.
“That’s such a cute snort,” Frank announced, hugging me tighter. I nuzzled my head into his chest. Now I realise it, how the hell did I think he would hate me? He’s everything I have got. Everything I will ever have.
- - -
“Frank,” I slurped my coffee.
“Yes, Gerard?” Frank sat next to him, draping an arm lazily around my shoulders.
“Why do you like me?” I was quizzical.
“What is there not to like about you?” Frank laughed, charmingly, stealing my cup of coffee and taking a sip out of it himself.
“Hey!” I exclaimed, attempting to reach my coffee mug as he stood up. I finally grabbed it and it split all over Frank’s shirt. I couldn’t help it, I laughed, quite loudly. “That’s your fault!” I giggled at Frank’s face.
“How dare you, you little…!” He ended up not finishing his sentence and chuckling. “Now, what the fuck am I going to wear?”
“You keep on swearing, that’s naughty, Frank.” I shook my head, disapprovingly. Frank raised his eyebrows at me. “And… I might have some oversized clothing for you,”
“Oversized? Are you calling me fat?” Frank did his best ‘typical girl’ expression.
“Of course not!” I giggled as Frank shook his head, acting as if he was hurt. “So, follow me…”
We trudged downstairs to my basement again.
“Here,” I chucked a black shirt that was too big for me at his face.
“Wow, what have I done to you?” He joked at the viscous throw.
“Nooothing,” I smiled. I expected him to go to the bathroom and change, but then I realised, not everyone is as self-conscious as me, and he began to unbutton his shirt, I knew he was going to strip his top half in front of me. I swallowed, hard, as I saw the tattoos on his chest. Wow, he was really…Gorgeous. He slipped off his damp top, quickly. He had a slender, but toned, figure with flawless porcelain skin that had art sprawled all over it.
“I l-like y-your tattoos,” I managed to choke out. Frank glanced up and smiled at me.
“I’m glad, which one is your favourite?” Frank queried. Oh, that’s an easy question. It the one on his waist, of course. But, how the hell was I going to say that out loud without blushing like mad? You can do it, Gerard…
“I like…” I paused, fighting the blush. “I like the one on your w-w-waist,” I succeeded, managing to keep a completely emotionless face.
“Oh, really?” Frank raised his eyebrows, smirking only a little.
“And to the answer the earlier question, I do not think you’re fat.” I announced. He was far better looking than me, really he was.
“Thank you, Gerard.”
“I’m jealous of you,” I whispered, not really meaning him to hear.
But, of course, he did.
“Why?” His eyebrows creased together.
“It’s embarrassing to say,” I mumbled underneath my breath.
He heard, of course.
“Gerard…” Frank stood close to me, and he was shirtless, this was really hard not to just blurt out about my emotions to him. “You’re beautiful…”
I smiled at him, slightly.
“You make me feel so…Happy,” I sighed, softly. Frank raised his hand and stroked my cheek, gently.
“I’m happy whenever you’re happy,” Frank replied. Whoa, that was cheesy. But, wow… I love him so much, this was getting unbearable. Frank stepped away and yanked my shirt on, buttoning it up.
- - -
“Gerard!” Mikey shouted, as he sprinted down the stairs to see Frank and I sitting together. He did the same routine; glancing in-between us and raising his eyebrows. He always did that. My parents came thundering in soon after.
“Michael is doing amazing at school! He’s got top marks on everything! Why can’t you be like that, Gerard? Top marks, focusing, everything!” My parents gloated on Mikey’s brilliant work whilst I shrank into the shadowed corner of my room. I covered my face with my hair and my knees.
“Not everyone can get top marks…And, Gerard is focusing in class. Ma’am and sir, it’s the effort that counts, not the score. You, as adults, should know that by now.” Frank interrupted.
“Quite so,” Mum agreed.
“Then…Why come in blabbering on about Mikey? Can’t you see that you’re hurting Gerard? Think before you act, you should know that too.” Frank addressed both of my parents. They left, shortly after the outburst. I raised my head, my hair in tangled heaps; this was another reason why my addiction started. It was always Mikey. Mikey was the perfect son. Mikey was the kid who got high marks. Mikey was the popular one. Mikey was the one everyone adores. Mikey was the one all his year looked up too. I was the bad son. I was the ‘kid’ who got low marks. I was the unpopular one. I was the one everyone hates. I was the one all my year decided to beat up. Mikey awkwardly left the room; he sure was in a difficult position. I knew from then our friendship wouldn’t be as good, now. He left? What, so he thinks I’m that guy who can’t get high grades? I felt my anger inside me, like a hot ball rising. I clenched my fists, tightly, gritting my teeth. I sat on my desk, for a few minutes all you could hear was my unsteady breathing. I threw all my items from my desk on my floor, and broke down in tears.
“Gerard!” Frank immediately came to my side. “Hey, hey, don’t cry!”
“I’m that dumb boy who everyone wants to be beat up because he’s different, aren’t I?” I sniffed, loudly, wiping my tears away with my sleeve. “I’m just a waste of life,” I coughed and began sobbing again. Frank moved me from the seat and onto his lap. I cried into his shoulder.
“You’re not dumb… And being different is a good thing! And those stupid immature little fucks have nothing better to do with their life. Your parents are also stupid, no offense.” Frank reassured me, gripping me tightly. “Don’t do what I think you’re going to do. Please.”
He could see through me like glass, seriously. He knew what I was thinking of doing when he was gone.
“I won’t,” I snivelled. “I just…. I just want my family to love me because of who I am. Not because of my perfect brother,”
“Gerard, please… You’re perfect, too. In fact, you’re the most perfect human I’ve ever met. So, please, don’t think this of yourself.” Frank made me look at him in the eyes. “Don’t cry, honey.”
Honey? I wasn’t going to worry about those nicknames; he was doing it to make me feel better. It did, slightly, and I hugged him, tears still trickling down my cheeks.
“No one loves me,” I mumbled. “I’m just p-pathetic,”
“Your parents may be utter idiots but they still love you. So does Mikey. And you’re not pathetic, you’re far from that. You’re actually really strong. You have so much to deal with. You’re tough, Gerard. Seriously.” Frank replied.
I sobbed. I wanted Frank…Everything was getting to me. The fact that I could never have good grades, I could never think of myself positively, I could never have that many friends, I could never be picked on, and I could never, ever, EVER, have Frank Iero.

Notes

a/n: im v sorry that this is sad,, i almost cried whilst writing this,,, but still <//3333