You're So Dark

"Could you pass me the cookies, please?" Patrick woke Gerard up from his daydream. He blinked a few times and did what Patrick asked him. "Are you okay?"

“Yeah,” Gerard blinked again, unable to recall why he drifted off so far away. “Where’s Brendon?”

“He went to use the bathroom.” Pete said, munching on his popcorn, his eyes on the TV.

They were at the Ways’ house at the moment, watching Zombieland. That was Mikey’s favorite movie which Gerard was forced to see three times every week and he knew all the dialogues by heart. He slid deeper into the armchair, making himself comfortable.

“What have I missed?” Brendon walked past Gerard’s armchair and plopped onto the couch.

“Nothing much, he’s just walking around,” Mikey said, completely focused on the screen, even though Gerard was sure he knew every scene and could replay the entire movie inside his head whenever he pleased.
Gerard thought of it as funny, it was the first day they were all hanging out and it was already so comfortable to be around them. He liked that, he never had friends for shit. Mikey did, and he dragged him along to his parties with the cool gang every so often. Until he totally ditched them because they once got drunk and beat Gerard up. Gerard almost groaned at the memory but his mind darted off towards present time again. He felt lucky he met such cool dudes on his first day.

“Mikey? Gerard?” A female voice called from the hallway, startling the group. Gerard recognized the voice as their mother’s and she soon stepped into the living room. “Have you had lunch? What have I told you about leaving the basement door open, Gerard? And you should-” she stopped when she realized there were five pairs of eyes pointed at her, except for only two as usual.
“I’m sorry. I’m Donna, Gerard and Mikey’s mom. You are?” She smiled politely.

“I’m Patrick Stump, nice to meet you, Mrs. Way.” Patrick stood up and shook her hand, Brendon rolling his eyes and Pete making an are-you-fucking-kidding-me face at his freakishly polite attitude.

“Pete,” Pete waved awkwardly from his spot.

“Brendon,” Brendon smiled.

“Hello.” She smiled warmly at the two of them after Patrick took his seat again.

“Have you offered these boys anything to drink?” She pointed her attention to her sons.

“Yeah,” Gerard mumbled. “We fed them and everything.”

“I see I’m not really wanted here,” she rolled her eyes at Gerard. “I’ll be in the kitchen if somebody needs me. Nice to meet you boys,” she walked out.

Gerard got back to his mind-ramble and his thoughts somehow landed on Mr. Iero. Wasn’t that weird, since Mr. Iero was kind of hotter than supernova and could easily be the part of every teenager's shower time fantasies.

“Guys,” Brendon called. They all pointed their attention to him, who was widening his eyes looking at his mobile screen. “I just got a text from my mom.”

“Wow.” Pete rolled his eyes.

“Why is that so important?” Mikey asked.

“So, you guys know I am looking for guitar lessons, right?” He looked at Patrick and Pete, who both nodded. “My mom found me a tutor.”

“I still don’t get it.” Pete shoved some popcorn into his mouth.

“And his name is Ryan Ross.” Brendon’s eyes widened again like not even he could believe the words coming out of his mouth.

“Aren’t you a lucky piece of shit?” Gerard grinned at him.

“I totally am.”

“We know.” Patrick beamed like he just won a trophy, and Gerard couldn’t help but to smirk.

“So when are these lessons?” Pete said, sounding a bit uninterested. Probably not because he was indeed uninterested, but because his eyes were still on the screen.

“Tomorrow,” Brendon was still gawking at the screen. “After school.”

“I want a full report,” Mikey announced. “All of it.”

“Yes,” Patrick said, “We all do. Right, Pete?”

“Mhm,” Pete mumbled with his mouth full of popcorn.

“Man,” Mikey shook Pete’s shoulder. When he didn’t even twitch, Mikey paused the film.

“Hey!” Pete yelled at him.
He just grinned and rolled his eyes. Pete pouted, but he engaged in the conversation between Patrick, Brendon and Gerard.

“Remember when you hit his butt when we played dodge ball in Gym and you were apologizing for the whole next week?” Pete giggled. Brendon’s face flushed.

“Sometimes I wish I were that ball,” he dreamily added and sent Gerard into laughter. “I would touch that ass.”

“You’re horrible,” Gerard giggled loudly.

“You laugh like a girl,” Brendon grinned.

Gerard laughed more and rolled his eyes. “I’ve been told so before.”

"Want to see his superhero boxers collection?" Mikey raised from his seat and smirked. Gerard’s eyes widened.

Whoa, wasn’t he a fucking dork. I mean, having superhero boxers wasn’t shameful and he knew that, but his brother showing it off to his friends?
Wait, having superhero boxers was shameful.
Tough luck.

"I sure do," Pete almost choked on his popcorn.

“Thanks Pete,” Gerard pouted.
Mikey ran off and came back two minutes later. With the boxers collection. Gerard was bathing in shame while Brendon was examining his Batman pair.

“This is some really nerdy shit.” His eyes widened. “I sure hope Mr. Iero has a comic book-themed underwear fetish.”

Gerard’s face flushed. “What?”

Patrick, who was sitting there being completely awkward while the others were discussing underwear, chimed in with a smirk. “Oh come on, don’t be so mean, Bren.”

“Awh, look at him, blushing sweetly,” Brendon grinned. Gerard rolled his eyes, mumbled something like ‘assholes’ and grabbed a packet of gummybears from the table.

The others went back to watching the movie while Gerard got lost in his thoughts again. Not much time passed before his mind welcomed Mr. Iero back inside.

His eyes, his smile, his jaw, his lips, his voice, his legs, his ass, his everything.

Gerard couldn’t stop thinking about how lame it was that he was his teacher, and probably not into guys. Even if he was into guys, Gerard didn’t really think he’d be Mr. Iero’s type.
A chubby, emo, greasy adolescent and other charming adjectives he liked to flatter himself with.
His self-hate just reached an entire new level when he realized how hard it would be to make Mr. Iero like him, in any possible way.

Whoa, dude. You’ve known the guy for like, half a day. It’s not like you’re into him or anything.

Well, he did like him. Very much. Like really, very much. Did that count as ‘being into someone’? Probably.
But Gerard wasn’t going to acknowledge that.

Somewhere along the last scenes of the movie Gerard picked his underwear up from the living room floor, went downstairs to his room and tossed it into his closet. While climbing out of the basement, his mind was constantly fixed at one scenario. Not a really descent one, definitely not descent, no. He got back into his seat probably grinning like a ten year old who just found condoms in his older brother’s jacket and was totally going to tell their parents.
He snapped out of it when he saw the film credits listing on the TV screen.

“What now?” Mikey looked at each of them.

“Some game?” Patrick waved his hands around.

“Truth or dare without the dare because it’s kind of hard to get up,” Brendon smirked deviously.

“No way.” Gerard shot him a glare.

“Oh come on, Way senior,” Pete smirked at him and kicked his arm playfully, “Way junior, go grab a bottle. Empty bottle.”

Gerard rolled his eyes. Mikey shot Pete a suspicious glance, but he got up and did what Pete told him.

“Sit around on the floor,” he said when he got back and everyone complied.

“Okay, you spin it.” Pete rubbed his hands together.

“Enthusiastic, I can see,” Gerard sighed.

“Okay, Brendon asks Gerard,” Mikey said when the bottle stopped spinning.

“Uhm,” Brendon tilted his head to the side, as if he was thinking. “How many people have you slept with so far?”

“Zero,” Gerard said and blushed a bit, remembering he was 18 and still a virgin.

“Aw,” Brendon smirked and Gerard just rolled his eyes.

“Pete, you ask Patrick.”

“Would you rather date Ryan or Mikey?” Pete cocked an eyebrow at Patrick.

“Mikey, obviously,” Patrick stated like it was the only available choice. “I would never hurt Brendon that way.”

“Ugh, dude!” Brendon blushed a bit and Mikey did too, because, well, he just got picked over Ryan and Ryan was pretty good looking.

“Gerard, you ask Pete.”

“Hm,” Gerard coughed when he realized he actually had to do something. “Do you like anyone?” Wow, Gerard, so original.

“Yeah,” Pete blushed, “But I’m not like, in love or anything. I just think they’re really cute, y’know. I haven’t known them for long.” He was still blushing and Gerard glanced a bit at Mikey, just to see his reaction. He looked completely normal, except for his thumbs which were spinning around each other. The thing Mikey did when he was nervous.

“Brendon, you ask me now,” Mikey said after spinning the bottle one more time.

“Guys or girls?”

“Girls, usually,” Mikey furrowed his brow. “A guy, at the moment.”

“Okay, this is boring,” Pete suddenly said. “Let’s just ditch the bottle and ask each other random questions which the asked one has to answer, and if he declines, he has to do something the other ones suggest.”

“Okay, whatever,” said Gerard, not really caring since he didn’t have that much to hide. Okay, he hid some things, but those weren’t actually things you ask people.

“Let’s go down to my room, there’s more space,” he added.
They all stood up and followed him downstairs to the basement. He opened the old, peeling door and revealed a large-sized room with a king sized bed, an artsy table in one corner, a couch in the other and a TV opposite the couch. There was a massive wardrobe against one wall, too, and lots of shelves with books and comics and many other thingies stacked onto them. The walls were covered with his own artwork and the guys looked pretty amazed by it.

“Wow. Just. Wow.” Pete’s mouth went agape as Gerard plopped onto his bed, signaling the others to get comfortable around the room. Pete and Brendon sat on the couch and Patrick took a seat beside Gerard on his bed, while Mikey practically fell on the chair beside the table, because he was a clumsy ass.

“So, Brendon, are you gay?” Mikey was the first to break the silence.

“Yes,” Brendon said casually. Gerard always admired to people who could be so comfortable about their sexuality around other people. Gerard hadn’t even told his mother yet. Neither he was going to, because she’d probably ask him about his ‘boyfriend or girlfriend’, and Gerard would be too awkward to admit the only love interest he had in months was a hopeless almost-crush-but-not-exactly-a-crush on his Lit/Creative writing teacher. Y’know, after she’d interrogate him about his ex-s. Well, there were a few exes. And there were huge reasons they were exes, not currents.

He didn't exactly regret not-being with any of them anymore; most of them treated him like crap. Mostly the guys, but not because they were all dickheads, but because they were all 'confused' and none of them even wanted to walk close to him while outside, let alone hold hands or anything bigger.
And the girls were either too clingy or just plainly uninterested in anything but sex or making out or whatever.

"Okay, first of, this is all confusing me. None of us are straight, right?" Mikey glanced around the room.

"Actually, I am. Well, 90% sure. You can't really be 100% straight while hanging around Brendon and Pete." Patrick gawked around and Gerard couldn't help but to giggle a bit. Patrick was either serious or funky or totally awkward, there was no in between.

"The others?" Mikey said again.

"I'm bi, I guess, you already know about Brendon." Pete munched on his popcorn again. "What about you, Gerard?"

"Uhm, I think I'm bi. I like both, so whatever." Gerard played with his hair.

"Why'd you ask, Mikey?" Brendon said.

"Well, I don't know, it's just really weird how you didn't like, hook up." Mikey grinned awkwardly.

Brendon laughed, and Pete just smirked while shoving more popcorn down into his mouth. "Brendon eats, sleeps and obsesses over Ryan. That's about it. He's been functioning that way before I met him, he still does. And I had a girlfriend for almost two years. Before we broke up three months ago."

"Why did you break up?" Gerard switched on the bed.

"I guess we just didn't feel it anymore. The breakup was a mutual decision, I guess," Pete seemed pretty casual about it so Gerard didn't feel bad for asking.

The afternoon went by in fucking around, Mikey and Pete retreating to the living room again to play Xbox while Patrick, Brendon and Gerard stayed in the basement. They listened to some music, agreed The Smiths are a revolutionary band after a harsh debate and just hung out.

When it was time to go home, Brendon put his arm around Gerard's neck in a friendly gesture. "To be honest, I really hope we'll hang out like this often, you guys are the rad," he grinned. Gerard smiled sincerely and nodded. He booped Patrick's fedora and Pete gave him a fist bump.

"I had a great time, too," he added before closing the door after them.

Gerard went into his room and plopped onto the bed sighing. He was really glad he made friends, he actually felt like someone liked him just because he was 'cool' or something, not because they wanted something he had or whatever. He jumped when he heard the door opening, but immediately sighed in relief when he realized it was just Mikey.

"I need help," he sprawled on the bed beside him.

"What is it?" Gerard shot a worried glance.

"I think I like Pete," Mikey said almost sadly and planted his head onto his brother's shoulder.

"Oh," Gerard grinned, "I knew that already."

"How?"

"You do the nervous thumb thingy when you're around him," Gerard simply said. Mikey just sighed and nodded.

"Is liking him a good thing?"

"Probably," Gerard smiled encouragingly.

"Thanks for not being a dick at the right moment," Mikey hugged him unexpectedly, but Gerard accepted the hug and laughed a bit.

"It's okay, Mikes. It will all be okay in the end," he let the words he didn't believe were true slip from his lips.

*

"You know, Mr. Way, paying attention in class is something none of us ever enjoyed doing but also kind of crucial for you if you don't want to fail this class," Mr. Iero's voice woke Gerard up from his daydream.

"I'm sorry," Gerard shot him an awkward glance before avoiding eye contact once again that morning.

"You seem really off today," Mr. Iero noticed, furrowing his brow like he was indeed interested in what Gerard's problem was. Gerard didn't think he was actually, he thought he was just trying to be polite, just like all the nice people usually were. So he gave up on asking for help from the same person who caused the problem.
Gerard's problem was the attraction he felt towards his Lit teacher, that was his problem, and he knew Mr. Iero couldn't help him with that.

"I'm okay, I just haven't slept well," Gerard lied shamelessly. Actually, he'd slept pretty well, but he had a dream about, guess who, Mr. Iero himself and it wasn't exactly a dream he could tell to anyone. It was pretty graphic, too.
It is unnecessary to mention it only made him fall into a major depression when he woke up and realized it was all just a dream. The sad part was that that was all it was ever going to be - just a fantasy, and nothing more.

"See me after class?" Mr. Iero seemed to see right through his lies.
Gerard was a bit smitten by that order, but he just nodded and pretended he gave a fuck about Mr. Iero's lecture about Edgar Allan Poe.
He knew everything about the stuff Mr. Iero'd been rambling about for 30 minutes now and he didn't really have to pay much attention, but something inside him made him want to, just because Mr. Iero insisted.
He rolled his eyes over his stupid mind again, trying to focus on the lesson.

"Basically, class, what Poe wanted to say with the Masque of The Red Death was that nobody and I mean nobody can escape death. Not the poor, not the rich, not the sick, not the healthy, not the young, not the old. No matter how luxurious the castle was, no matter how beautiful the cloth of the dresses was, no matter how high the positions of the people were, everyone died. And that, my friends, is also the point of life. You can be smart, stupid, good looking, bad looking, evil, good - you're going to die anyway." Mr. Iero blinked a couple of times.

"Does that mean it doesn't matter how you act and what you do, because you're going to die anyway?" Someone from the back of the classroom asked.

Mr. Iero smirked. "Now that's a good question. No. It means exactly the opposite. Why do you think Prospero had to go through all that mental torture before he indeed died? Why didn't the Red Death kill him immediately and shorten his trouble? Exactly because he was an arrogant asshole who thought he was more important than everyone else."

Gerard giggled below his voice. He loved Prospero's character. It was exactly the representation of how ignorant and stupid a human's mind could be.

"Does that also reduce prejudice? I mean, is that also the point? To encourage people to support equality?" Gerard heard Patrick's voice.

Mr. Iero smiled with his teeth. "Indeed it does, Mr. Stump. I'm glad you noticed that. It does, but in a very subtle manner. Although, not that many people enjoy Poe's stories because the point is mostly hidden. I mean, everyone can learn something from reading his stuff, but not everyone can find the exact thought Poe had while writing it. I, personally, never tried finding it. For me, these stories have a sentimental value. Something I drew out of them which helped me through my life. I think you should think in a similar way. Because it's never wrong to pull out your own significance out of the original story. Something that matters to you." He sat on his desk again. "It's not the point to read the story, write the summary and get an A. That's not why we're learning this. It truly isn't. Because that summary isn't yours, it's not your mind, it's Poe's just a bit shorter and without so many adjectives. Did I mention I love adjectives? Anyway." He smirked and Gerard swore his stomach did something.

"You have to have your own perspective of things. And you have to be sure that perspective influences other people in a good way, if not, don't mention it. Art, and literature is also art, isn't made to make people feel bad. Art is there to comfort you. Keep that in mind." He sighed just before the bell rang.

Gerard started collecting his things and almost exited the classroom when he heard Mr. Iero's voice from behind him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Shit," he muttered below his voice and sat back onto his chair.

"Is something wrong, Gerard?" Mr. Iero seemed genuinely worried and Gerard wanted to yell at him for being so nice when he didn't actually care.

"No, why?" He tried to look oblivious, but that didn't really work while avoiding Mr. Iero's eyes.

"Because you seem really, really down." Mr. Iero plopped down onto his desk. Gerard looked at his muscly legs again, covered by the gray fabric of his skinny jeans. He also wore a black button up which made Gerard want to rip the goddamn buttons off. He hated the fact he had these thoughts and he just wanted to punch himself in the eye for being so stupid.

"I'm really not down, everything is okay." Gerard spoke in a slightly more serious tone, which indicated Mr. Iero that he was lying. He thought of Gerard as a good liar, even though he could see right through him. The lack of eye contact bugged him, though.

"I'll leave you be now. But if you ever need to talk about anything, you can always talk to me, okay?" He gave him a reassuring look, hoping Gerard would look him in the eyes.

"Deal," Gerard said quietly and got off his chair, marching through the door rather angrily.

Frank wasn't exactly the type who would care too much if a student wasn't paying attention in class, especially not a good one like Gerard. He knew Gerard knew what he was talking about and he knew he was really intelligent. He saw that yesterday in Creative writing when he read Gerard's poem. He actually still had the paper inside his pocket because he decided to bring it home and show it to Ray, his roommate.


"It's the tearing sound of love-notes
Drowning out these gray stained windows
And the view outside is sterile
And I'm only two cubes down
I'd photocopy all the things that we could be
If you took the time to notice me
But you can't now, I don't blame you
And it's not your fault that no one ever does"

Frank was a bit caught off guard by all the negativity the poem held, but the poem was nothing but amazing. How he made the love-notes part sound painful even though love-notes were usually things you would connect to love and happiness. 'The view outside is sterile' - that lyric intrigued him endlessly, and 'I'd photocopy all the things that we could be' made him fall hopelessly in love with the poem. He used such simple metaphors which would usually sound wrong because 'sterile' and 'photocopy' weren't exactly poetic expressions, but they fit in so perfectly inside the whole thing it made Frank's heart burn.

And to think Gerard scribbled it within 10 minutes made him only much more interested in the boy. He was really a mystery to Frank, honestly. He was never so interested in dissecting the mind of a student as much as he was with Gerard.
Gerard would usually seem like a totally normal kid, wearing a lot of black and having his hair long and dyed. Okay, not exactly normal when he remembered most of the kids were jocks or wannabe jocks these days and not many of them actually cared about being themselves.
But Gerard wasn't extraordinary because he dressed a certain way or because of how he wore his hair, he was extraordinary because of how he acted and because of how he thought about the world. Frank saw right through him when it came to those things, but he knew Gerard was the kind of person who hid his feelings like a snake hides its legs.

He honestly had no idea why he was thinking about that so much. He spent the third period teaching, as usual, his heart not so in it as it usually was. He was a bit troubled by the thoughts he had earlier.
When free period started, Frank decided he'd go out to light a cigarette. He was trying to quit, but it obviously wasn't working that much for him. He walked through the junior corridor when he heard some bumping sounds from the senior one. A loud groan which sounded like someone was being beaten up pretty harshly echoed towards him. His teacher-instinct worked inside of him immediately and he rushed towards the corridor, rescheduling the cigarette-break for some other time.
His eyes met a disturbing scene beside the lockers located next to the Lit classroom. Two seniors he knew from his Creative writing class, Sean and Darrell were beating up some dark haired boy whose face he couldn't see because of the massive bodies of the two jocks.

"Hey, guys, stop it! Whatever he did to you, violence-" he stopped dead in his tracks when he realized the student being beaten up was the one and only concern that tortured him the whole morning, Gerard Way. An unknown kind of rage grew inside his chest and he immediately freaked out.
"What the hell are you two doing? Go away before I call the principle! And you bet he will know about this. I don't care what Mr. Way did wrong, you should never do this to him or anyone. Now go, I don't want to see your faces!" He yelled at them, trying to contain at least a slight bit of his teacher pride. They both ran away, probably just scared because of Frank's threats, not because they suddenly had an illumination violence wasn't the answer.


"Thanks," Gerard gasped; his hands on his stomach and his lip split. He looked really bad and the blood was pouring out of the cut and onto his chin.

"What happened, Gerard?" Frank looked at him with concern.

"I was just going to get my sketchbook because I forgot to take it with me to free period. I guess it was kind of wrong I didn't let Patrick come with me. Anyway, they were here and one of them started calling me all kinds of names and shit. And I said they should stay away from me and then they did it again and I tried to walk away and then they pinned me against the wall and-" Gerard almost whimpered but held back, because he wasn't going to break down in front of his teacher. Not this teacher, not the one he had a mild crush on.

"It's okay Gerard," Mr. Iero looked at him sympathetically and led him to the bathroom. He pulled a few pieces of toilet paper from the holder and handed them to him. Gerard shot him a thankful half-smile, but twitched when his lip touched his teeth. He wiped the blood off his face and saw Mr. Iero standing leaned onto the sink. "I kind of know what it feels. Being bullied. Only I was small enough so they could give me a wedgie, shove me into a locker and call it quits." He sighed, familiar weight on his chest as he smirked sadly to Gerard. "I'm just saying it does get better. You’ve just got to believe it."

"Yeah, I guess," Gerard said quietly. "I mean, I know it will get better. I just can't persuade myself enough to actually think it will. If that makes any sense."

Mr. Iero laughed a bit. "It does. Let's get you to the nurse's, that lip doesn't seem to be any better."

"I don't need a nurse."

"You kind of do," Mr. Iero said. "I'll get you there and I'll call Stump to come and keep you company. I would, honestly, I would, but I require a cigarette." He sighed; annoyed by the fact his addiction would stop him from getting to know the mysterious boy any better.

"You're a smoker? I would never tell," Gerard grinned and cussed under his voice again when his lip didn't approve of the action.

"Yeah."

Mr. Iero led him to the nurse's office and left soon after he’d explained the situation to her, waving at Gerard who just half-smiled back as much as his wounded lip allowed. Soon after, the doors opened again and Patrick's fringe peeked inside. Gerard motioned him to come over.

"Are you okay? What happened?" He rushed over to Gerard. Gerard told him everything, excluding the part in the bathroom.

"I need details." Patrick looked like a little girl who was about to get the Barbie doll she’d wanted so much.

"About?" Gerard lifted his eyebrows.

"Well, Mr. Iero saved you from the pricks." Patrick rolled his eyes.

"When we get out of here, okay? And why is it so important that Mr. Iero saved me from them?" Gerard narrowed his eyes.

"Because you're so totally crushing on him." Patrick waved his hand around like he was pointing out the obvious.

Notes

Uhm, hi? I'm sorry if this is bad, I'm having a weird day, idk.