Gerard’s POV
“Wanna go to the comic book store?” I ask Frankie, slipping an arm around his waist and pulling our hips closer so that they are touching. He nods excitedly. I'm glad, because I love the comic book store. Something about being surrounded by art and other nerds is really attracting to me.

Large posters cover the walls; everywhere I look there are rows and rows of books and comics. I drag Frankie behind me and rush over to a corner to thoroughly geek out over a new copy of The Avengers. I trace my fingers over the drawings, wishing I could sketch that well. My eyes are alight at the sight of something that I truly love. Drawing or reading comics is almost like therapy to me. I feel Frankie rest his chin on my shoulder from behind and close my eyes, chuckling. He must be standing on his tippy toes to reach up, because he is definitely not tall enough to without.

Frankie takes an identical copy down from the shelf and starts thumbing through the pages while I laugh at silly lines or point out really good sketches. He replies with enthusiasm, just as excited as I am. Gosh he’s cute when he’s excited. We take a couple more comics down then head to the register. Frank takes the copy from my hand and before I can resist, hands over money to the cashier. He packs them away into a bag, and then holds it out for us to take. Frankie takes it and then holds it out to me, smiling cheekily. I take the bag from him, and give him a one-armed hug.
“Thanks babe,” I grin at him.
“It’s f-fine. I mean, you paid for the other s-stuff, so.” He says with that adorable little stutter he gets when he’s nervous.

We wander around the mall for a bit more until the sky starts to darken. Frankie suggests that we go home before it’s fully dark.
“Are you scared of the dark, Frankie?” I tease. He blushes intensely, then screws up his face.
“No. Only spiders. And, um, small spaces.”
I chuckle at this. “Well, now I know how to get you to do what I want. I’ll just shut you in your locker!” I joke. He looks at me with wide eyes, and then narrows them.
“You wouldn’t fucking d-dare, Gerard Way.”
I ruffle his fringe, making it fall over his eyes, and laugh. He scowls at me from under his hair, but he doesn’t hold it back for long and soon enough he’s giggling too, with that absolutely loveable laugh he has.

I pull him close to me, his head against my chest, swaying from side to side. His giggles are muffled against my tee shirt which only makes them sound cuter. I give him a final squeeze, which draws a completely adorable little ‘unf’ from him, and then we start our walk home.
The once vibrant shades of the sunset are all but muted, fading pastel streaks by the time we get home. Once Frankie locks the door, he slides down the back of it and lets out a sigh. I ask him if he’s okay, and he replies with a tired nod. I have a feeling this is about the dark, and I tell him just that. He playfully kicks at my legs from his position on the ground, but I jump and lift my knees so that he can’t get me.
“I’m unfuckable, Frankie. Deal.” I chuckle when he persists. He pouts, blushing a little; a smirk tugs on the corners of his mouth. I wrench his arms to pull him up and make a big deal of it, groaning and breathing deeply.
“So…heavy!” I pant loudly.
“Hey,” he says objectively, looking down at his shoes. I can see a faint trace of a smile so I know I'm in the all clear and not actually in trouble. He flicks me lightly on the arm.

Frank’s mum comes downstairs, still in her office clothes. She asks us whether we are hungry, but after a bit of deliberation we decide we’re not. Since we’ve already had dinner, neither of us are all that hungry. She nods, smiles, and goes back into her office. Frank walks with me into the living room, and sits down on the couch. I fall back onto it, sighing and shutting my eyes.
The weight next to me is unexpectedly removed, and I open my eyes. Frankie is dancing around excitedly, turning on the TV and fiddling with things. I watch him curiously, and it becomes clear to me what he is doing when he pulls out two guitars, flips on the PlayStation and sticks Guitar Hero World Tour into the tray. He hands me a plastic guitar, eyes sparkling enthusiastically. I stand up and take the guitar from him.

“Challenge accepted, Iero.” I say sternly, fake stretching. He just giggles and rolls his eyes.
The TV flickers as it starts the game. Frank glances at me slyly, and then using the controller hits the most advanced option. We play one at a time; it’s his turn first. He practically shreds it: either he plays guitar epically, or this game is pretty much half his life. Probably a little of both. His fingers practically fly over the painted buttons. The notes are played with accuracy and almost perfect timing. He gets four stars, and I let out a low whistle.
“Your turn!” he singsongs.

I step up to the TV and take Frankie’s place. The song starts, and at first I think I am going really well. Then the chorus kicks in and I try to keep up, my fingers scampering over the buttons frantically. Of the buttons I actually do press, half of them are at the wrong time. I come out of the song barely alive, and slightly breathless.
“I do actually know how to play guitar,” I clarify.
Frankie looks at me grinning widely. “Same here! Maybe we could play together one time?” His cute nerdy voice rises on the end of the question.
“We could play now if you want,” I say. It’s only about six thirty, so we have time.
“Really?”
“Yeah, sure!” I smile broadly. “As long as we’re playing actual guitars, ‘coz I seem to suck at this one.” I gesture to the plastic thing hanging around my neck.
Frankie dashes downstairs; excited energy making him jumpy. He holds onto the railings as he takes the steps boldly. Lord help us he is so cute! I chuckle and follow him at a lesser pace. Becoming a casualty to enthusiasm is not on today's to-do list.
The basement is set up like a studio, and I suck in a sharp breath. It’s amazing! There are two microphones, a couple stands complete with guitars and then various other pieces of equipment. A black couch sits out of the way of the apparatus, along with a little mini fridge filled with water bottles. Frankie quickly tucks a scratched leather book under the couch pillows before he thinks I can notice, and then whirls around to face me.
“Um, what one to do you want?” he asks, pointing to the stands.
“I don’t mind, whichever one is good.”
He thinks for a second, and then hands me a dark purple one with black strings. It looks pretty badass. Frankie picks up his white guitar; I notice the name “Pansy” is scrawled on the body. The tip of his tongue sticks out again in focus while he plugs everything in.
“Do, um, do you s-sing?” he asks nervously.
“A little, you?” I say encouragingly.
“Sometimes.” He fiddles with his guitar. “What should we play?”
“Oh, anything, I don’t mind. Have you written any songs?” His round hazel eyes widen, and it’s all I can do from flinging my arms around him and squeezing his adorable little self. How can I help it when he’s so gosh darn cute all the time?
“Yeah, but, um, they’re not really any good…” he trails off, and begins to pick the skin around his nails.
“Aw Frankie, I’m sure they’re awesome! Come on, show me one.” I beam at him again. With nervously shaking hands he pulls out that little black notebook from under the couch, and also a clear folder filled with what appears to be chords. Frankie maneuvers a book stand in front of us then lays the notebook and file on it. He appears a bit sheepish, so I reach out and stroke his cheek with my knuckles. He flashes me a tight smile, and then continues to wring his hands.
“Which one should we play?” I ask.
“Well, um, I’ve been writing a new one but I can’t get the ending right so maybe you could help me with it?” He speaks in a rush.
“Yeah, I’d love to!” He smiles gratefully and flips to the right page in the book.
Frankie takes a step back and a deep breath, and then we start. After a short intro, he steps up to the mic and starts to sing. I almost drop the guitar right there. Little Frankie, in all his nerdy glory, can fucking sing like an angel. Words pour out of his mouth, his eyes closed, his vocals purring with conviction. The notes positively shake, barely controlled and threatening to burst.

‘Hand in mine, into your icy blues
And then I'd say to you, we could take to the highway
With this trunk of ammunition too
I'd end my days with you in a hail of bullets
I'm trying, I'm trying
To let you know just how much you mean to me
And after all the things
We put each other through and
I would drive on to the end with you
A liquor store or two keeps the gas tank full
And I feel like there's nothing left to do
But prove myself to you and we'll keep it running...’

To be perfectly honest, I'm kind of shocked that he could have written these stunningly accurate lyrics. They stir up a concoction of emotions I didn't even know I could feel. I lean into my mic and contribute with some backup vocals. I don’t even think about it, I know instinctively when to come in. He gives me a grin, eyes still shut blissfully. I can predict the next chord he is about to play, so that the sheet in front of me is only a guideline. When the music fades out because he hasn’t got that far yet I cheer.

“Frankie baby, you are so fucking amazing!” I gush. He giggles, beginning to blush again. I slip the guitar from around my neck, dropping it gently on the floor and hurry over to him. I pick him up and hold his fragile body against me, spinning us around and around. His legs fly out and he squeals, the sound of our laughter blending together. I can feel the tremor in him, he must have been so nervous sharing something that sounded so personal. His guitar, Pansy, is still in between us. I lower him down, purposefully placing him close to me. Frankie bats his eyelids, looking up at me from under soft lashes. A ghost of a smile is still on his rosy pink lips. There is nothing I want more than to kiss him right now. So I snake my hands around his back, drawing our bodies together, and softly press my lips into his.

He gasps into my mouth, and immediately relaxes into the kiss. His eyelids flutter shut after a second. I nibble his lower lip, playfully biting it. He moans innocently when I continue, which drives me crazy. This kid is making me go in-fucking-sane. Frankie wraps his arms around me, tickling my ribs. I nearly laugh and ruin everything, because it tickles quite a bit. I do a little shiver and shake my torso, causing Frankie to smile against my mouth. I trail my hands slowly downwards, our lips still locked together, and squeeze his bum with both my hands. He jumps up, almost breaking the contact, but I push him into me. I kiss him deeper, needing something to lean against. I stumble forwards, pushing Frank backwards over to the wall. I take his hands in mine and hold his wrists against the wall. Fuck I am glad there is a guitar sandwiched between us right now…

As soon as I let go of his wrists, Frankie attacks me with tickles. I pull away from his mouth, laughing hysterically, and fall to the ground. He falls on top of me, and we hear a snap. Eyes wide but still giggling, we look at Frank’s guitar. Poor old Pansy’s had one of her strings broken. Frank shuffles himself off me and sits up on his knees, surveying the damage to his guitar.
“Ah shit,” Frank says lightly with a snicker. His pupils are still dilated from our kissing. “How am I going to explain this to Mum?”
“Easy,” I answer reasonably, “just tell her you were naughtily tickling your boyfriend whilst making out and we fell over, causing a string to snap.” I chuckle at the end.
Frank rolls his eyes and says, “Hey keep the wisecracks to yourself, Gee.”
It’s like I can see his little brain whirring and he finally completely comprehends what I said.
“Um, are we um, is this…you said boyfriend? Are we, like, a thing…or something?” Oh the return of the stutter. It’s so cute when he stumbles over his words like this! I find myself lightly blushing alongside Frankie, who of course is deeply colouring.
“Would you like to be?” I cheek, adding a wink. This just makes Frankie blush harder.
“Y-yes, definitely, that would be r-really awesome!” he cheers. I crinkle my eyes at him then pull him back down onto me. He lets out another quiet ‘unf’ noise which I smile at. I hold him really close, hugging him tight.
“I like you so much, Frankie!” I say. My throat starts to close up a bit and my eyes well up.
“Aw Gee I like you too, more than you could ever know! And it’ll all be fine with your parents, we’ll work it out.” He combs his slim fingers through the kinks in my dark hair, and when his hands get caught he untangles out the knots. I shut my eyes tight, willing myself not to cry. Instead I beam gratefully at him.
“Thank you for everything, Frankie. I mean it.”
He glances away sheepishly, and then starts to speak quietly.
“It’s perfectly fine. Thank you for noticing me, Gee. I’ve liked you for so long even though I'm just a weird kid and you’re so popular and amazing and there was no chance of-”

I cut him off with a tiny kiss. “You’re rambling again babe.” I say into his mouth. Our faces are pressed together and I can feel his cheeks heating. A few tears slide out from under his lashes. I brush them away with my thumb, kissing his forehead and then the tip of his sweet little nose. He giggles endearingly, though when he does a sob escapes his throat.

I pat my tummy and he curls up on my chest obligingly. I trace patterns onto his back with my fingertips until the tears stop flowing from both our eyes. I didn’t even notice I was crying until a drop splashed onto Frankie's shiny black hair. He shuts his eyes; gradually his breathing begins to deepen and slow. I listen to just his breathing for a while more, and then I close my eyes as well. We fall asleep together on the floor, a bit of an odd sight.

Notes

I'm sorry about this my vocabulary seems to consist of only the words "cute", "nerd" and "adorable" when I'm trying to describe Frankie
Also I've had a bit of writer's block and everything is stressful and argh! Though by mid next week our exams will have finished so maybe I could try to be productive or something...
Hope you guys have/have had an awesome day ^u^
- Run Bunny