Gerard's P.O.V
I woke up and Frankie was in my arms. His mouth was slightly open, his face clear of any worry.
He looks younger when he sleeps than when he is awake. He looks peaceful, and you don't see that a lot when he's awake because of all the worries he has with his mom, his dad.
The nightmare he had the other day was horrible, it must have been really bad because it took him about two hours to calm down. I used to have nightmares of my dad, too. Not because he abused us, but because he died.
He left my mom about five years ago, and when he was moving his stuff to his apartment, he had an accident. Mikey was in the car with him, helping him with the move. The car apparently swerved off the road and hit a tree head-on. Dad didn't die instantly, he went through seven hours of torturous pain before he finally died. Mikey only hurt his head; he got a concussion. I used to have nightmares everyday, witnessing my dad die in different ways. They've only recently started getting better. When I first started taking the drugs, I had them everyday, but they were really bad.
Frankie makes me feel better, though, and I feel safe around him.
I need to wake Frank up for school, actually.
I study his face one more time.
His lip and nose ring look perfect on him. Most boys don't suit them, but he does. He has worry lines on his forehead, but otherwise his face is clear. He is perfect. That is the only way I can describe him. I sigh, wanting to stay like this all day, every day. Unfortunately, though, we can't.
"Frankie" I try to coax him gently out of slumber land, but it's just not happening. I shake him. No reaction.
I climb off the bed, and tug the covers off him. No reaction.
"Frankie, wake up! School's today!" I shout it at him and he stirs slightly.
"FRANKIE! WAKE THE HELL UP, NOW!" I belt the words out, they are amplified by the echos bouncing off the walls. He shoots up, falling off the bed. I laugh and throw the duvet back on.
"Ugh, Gee, what was that for, you could have woken me up nicely. You meanie!" His voice is rough from just waking up, and he sounds like a child. I bend over and pick him up like a baby.
"Aww, poor Frankie. Hush, little baby, don't you cry Gerard's gonna sing a lullaby" I'm laughing, and rocking him. Frank is squirming, almost making me drop him. I grip him tighter and walk over to the bed and place him down. He pouts at me and my heart melts. He looks adorable!
"Frankie, I'm sorry! You just wouldn't wake up. We are going to be late for school!"
"Gee, can we skip today? Please?" The face he's pulling at me makes it impossible to say no to him I nod my head and he jumps off the bed pulling me into a hug while repeatedly saying 'Thank you, thank you, thank you!' I laugh and hug him back.
He's acting really childish today. I wonder if he's feeling okay...
"Frankie, are you okay? You can talk to me, y'know.." He looks up at me with big eyes. He nods and says;
"It's just because I had a good night's sleep. I don't get that very often. And waking up to you is always a bonus!" He drags the last part of his sentence out so it becomes a bit warbled.
So his strange mood is due to plenty of sleep. He's happy, and if he's like this when he's happy, I want him to sleep good more often.


"So, what shall we do today? We could watch movies, bake a cake, go to town... What do you want to do?" Frankie ponders this for a moment and then says that he'd like to go to town. He still has a smile on his face, and looks around for something.
"Uh, Gerard, I don't have anything to wear... It's all at my house, and we can't go there. Can I borrow something of yours, please?" Damn, his puppy-dog face is good. I nod and give him some hopefully clean skinnies and a Metallica t-shirt. He starts to get changed and I find myself staring. He is so beautiful. The scars that cover his body should be horrible, but he makes them beautiful. He catches me staring and I look away, blushing.
What shall I wear? I pick out some skinny jeans and a Misfits t-shirt. I change and feel his eyes on me. I'm self-conscious of myself. I was bullied before I became friends with Craig and Carter, and I still haven't gotten over the taunts and things they used to say to me. I change quicker, and feel Frankie stood right next to me.
"Gerard, are you embarrassed of yourself?" He sounds concerned and upset. I shake my head, blushing. I always blush when I lie, and Frankie knows this. He shakes his head sighing.
"Gerard, you are perfect. Whatever, whoever has made you think the opposite are stupid, fucking idiots, okay? You are perfect. You are beautiful." His words were spoken softly at first, but got sterner toward the end. I blush, not used to compliments from anybody.
I smile at him and finish tying my shoelaces. I hold out my hand to him and walk up the basement stairs. We're in silence, but it's not awkward. It's never been awkward with Frankie, not even when we 'hated' each other. I think that deep down, I liked him, even then.

We walk out, trying to be quite. My mom doesn't like me skipping school, but I've done it so many times that I know where to step, how slow to close the door so that it doesn't squeak.

When we're out, Frankie looks over to his house, his eyes angry, but with worry in them too.
"Gerard, what would've happened if my mom was in the house when he was. Or me. Or if he's there and he has my mom or something. I need to ring her!" He is fumbling and his breathing is once again coming out in short pants. I grab his shoulders and look into his eyes. I lean in slowly and see his eyes slowly flutter shut. Mine do the same and then we are kissing in my garden, underneath my mom's bedroom window.

The kiss is slow. I just wanted to clam him down, bur Frankie seems to want it to get faster.
He bites my lip and I groan. Frank snakes his arms around my neck and pulls the hair at my neck, making me groan again. I lick his bottom lip, asking for entrance, and put my arms around his waist. His lips part and the kiss gets rough. Frankie lets out a moan when i bite his lip ring, pulling on it. He pulls away first, panting. I put my forehead on his and smile down at him. He blushes and smiles back at me. It's so easy to get him to blush, and it's so sweet when he does.

When we finally come out of the embrace, Frankie seems a lot calmer. He is still griping his phone but his breathing isn't heavy. He puts the phone up to his ear and calls his mom, I presume.
"Mom, are you okay? Please let me know, I'm worried. Call me back when you get this, please. Love you." He hangs up and just stares at his phone. I quickly pull him into a hug, squeezing tightly. I can feel his heartbeat, and it's beating rapidly.
"Frankie, calm down. She's probably at work. When you work, you're not aloud to have your phone on, let alone be aloud to answer phone calls. She'll be fine. It's okay, the police are doing their jobs, he won't be able to get near her, okay?"
I feel him nod, and his heartbeat has calmed down. I let go of him and grab his hand instead, using my thumb to rub circles on his skin.
He sends a grateful smile my way, but doesn't talk still. His father is such a prick. He has ruined Frankie's life, made him scared wherever he goes. It's not fair, and if I ever get my hands on the man, he won't live to tell the tale.
We start to walk to town. It's only five minutes away, but with Frankie's presence it seems like an instant journey. I hope Craig and his friends aren't up here, Frank doesn't need that, at least not toady. Frank drags me along, looking excited. We stop in front of the music store and Frankie stares inside, gazing at the guitars. Christmas present.
We go in, and I nod a greeting to the man behind the counter. I know him form when I used to do heavy drugs. He likes to take Ketamine and Ecstasy every day at five o'clock. He buys it off of one of Craig's friend's brother, I don't remember their name. I tried Ketamine once, but the body paralysis wasn't something I digged.
Ecstacy, however, is great, was great. The drug made me happy when I had a nightmare, and it's great when you want to go out to a party, it makes you be able to dance for hours without being tired, but more than a few times have I fucked a stranger because of the affection the drug makes you feel towards others.
While I think of all the times I've fucked other people due to taking Ecstasy, Frankie is looking at the guitars, records, CD's. I feel slightly guilty, but the feeling soon goes when I look at him. He's so happy. It's like he feels most a home, the happiest, when he is surrounded by music, musical items. He glances at me and smiles, a big happy smile that I've never seen before. The smile itself makes me smile, let alone the fact that it's Frankie that's smiling at me. He waves me over and hops from one foot to the other, excitedly.
"Look, Gerard! Look at this!" He's found a Green Day record. A limited edition Dookie one, to be exact. No wonder he's excited, this record is very rare, and luckily, I have the amount of money I have on me, $30, is enough to buy it. I look at it, telling him that it's great and he quickly looks at some other things, his eyes wistful. Once he's occupied and his back's turned, I grab the record. I rush over to the register and pay for it, tucking the record into my jacket pocket. The good thing about this jacket is the big pockets, without them most of the time I'd be stuck.
Frankie seems to have looked at everything and is getting bored.
"Hey, Frankie, can I show you something? It's nearby, and it's really pretty..." I look at him with wide eyes, and I think I even flutter my eyelashes a bit. Frank hates walking, but I think I convinced him. He nods and I grab his hand and pull him out.

We walk slowly towards the park.
"This isn't pretty, Gerard.. It's just the park." He sounds confused, so I just chuckle and tell him to close his eyes. He complies, albeit confusedly, and walks unsteadily with me.
"Frankie, trust me. I won't let you fall. I'd catch you, I promise.." He grunts, and walks with a bit more confidence. The place I'm leading him to is hidden behind a load of trees and bushes. I know the path well, but Frankie doesn't.
"Frankie, hop onto my back, please!"
"What? Why? Gerard, where are you taking me?" I chuckle at his confusion.
"Just get onto my back, the path we're taking is, uh... unconventional. You might fall, and I've promised to catch you if you do. So, hop on, sugar." I stand in front of him and crouch, and he climbs on. He nearly falls but I save him at the last minute. The sound he makes is almost a scream, but not quite. The noise is inhuman, and I can't believe he made it. I double up in laughter, making him nearly fall off again, and Frankie is making noises of protest.
"Sorry, sorry. Th-that noise, th-though. Oh, God, that was so funny!" I'm still laughing, five minutes later, half way to the 'special place'.
It's still as pretty as I remember it. It's a derelict building, but a group of people, or maybe just one person has spray-painted pictures of animals, women, patterns. There are loads of images on the wall, and I used to come here a lot because it makes me happy here. Being around music is where Frankie is happiest; being around beautiful art is where I'm happiest. I look around again, it's been about six months since I've been here last, and I've missed it.
"Okay, Frankie, you can open your eyes now, if you want"
"God, it's about time, Gee, I was worried-" He notices the graffiti half way through the sentence and just stares open-mouthed at the walls. He has been rendered speechless by the art and his mouth is opening and closing, like a goldfish.
"Wha.. What is this place, Gee? The art, graffiti, whatever is amazing... How did you find this place? God, this is amazing.." He peers around at the walls, dumbstruck.
"It's Multum In Parvo, Frankie." I can tell he is confused at my words, and I point to the piece of art nearest to us, which reads what I just said.
"Multum In Parvo; Much In Little. I thought the phrase summed up this place. Much in little." Frank is still looking around in awe, but he turns to look at me.
"Gerard, I think it sums it up completely. Much in little. Yeah, it is. What language is that, anyway?" He has a small smile on his face, but the smile grows when he says the phrase.
"Latin. It's in Latin, and it's perfect for this place" I'm staring at the walls myself, not looking at Frank while I talk to him. He nods, I can see him out of the corner of my eye.
"How do you know that it's in Latin?" He is looking at me, I can tell, but I still don't look at him.
"Oh, there's this little thing called Google. You should try it sometime, it's very useful, y'know." I'm smirking and I finally look at him. His face is pulled into a playful scowl and a smile threatens to break out on his face.
"Oh, shut up, Gee. I know what Google is, you dummy!" Frank does smile now, and has turned to look back at the graffiti.

We sit in silence. It could have lasted for five minutes, it could have lasted fifty. Any time with Frankie is un-measurable, and he is the only person I've ever met that can make it like that.
"Beautiful, isn't it? I discovered this place when I was around nine. Even back then, I loved art. There was only one painting on the walls, and as I came back, which was often, there would sometimes be a new one, or a half finished one. I've never met anybody that has painted these walls, and a new piece of art hasn't been added for about a year. I suppose there's not enough space to add more. My favorite piece is the one that says 'Art is our only salvation from the horror of existence.' That was added when I was thirteen, and I had been being bullied for about six months by then, I had always loved art, but the moment I read the quote was the moment I wanted to make art. To be an artist. I had no idea if I was good at it, or if I was horrendous at it, but I wanted to make art. So I did, and it turns out I'm actually quite good at it." Frankie, through my speech, was silent.He now, however, isn't
"God, Gee. You seriously have a way with fucking words, don't you? seriously, you should become a, a, uh, a person that reads speeches. A speech reader or something. Or a person that reads to kids at libraries! I could listen to you for hours, just when you talk about any old shit, imagine what kids would be like with a story, forget art, you should be a reader of things. Not like your bad at art, because your really good at it, I mean the drawing of me! It's so lifelike, y'know. I thought it was a picture of me, or something..." Shit, he saw the drawing. I knew I shouldn't have put it up there, but I was just so proud of it. I drew it after our first meeting, where I asked him for a smoke, after he'd spied on my little argument with my mom and Mikey. At least he seems like he likes it, so I guess nothing else matters.
I blush at his words, anyway, and he seems pretty pleased with himself, probably because I don't do it that often compared to him. We admire the paintings for a while longer and by then it's around three o'clock, and none of us have eaten anything.
"Hey, Frankie? Do you wanna get a bite to eat at a cafe or something? I'm starving." He nods, and gets up. We make our way through the bushes and trees, Frankie glancing back at the graffiti every so often.
"So, did you like that?" He nods, again, not speaking.
"Hmm, I thought you would. What's your favorite piece?"
"Um, probably the, uh, piece where the skull is colored in watercolors. It's beautiful, and kind of reminds me that death can be a good thing, y'know?" I nod this time, silently agreeing with him.

The diner, cafe thing was crowded, but we managed to find a table. The waitress was nice, I suppose, but she flirted with us. Yeah, both of us. At the same time. She even left us her number and told us to call her, even though we were blatantly together.
Frankie ordered just a salad, saying that he wasn't that hungry, I had a burger and fries. Frank stole a few of my chips when he thought I wasn't looking. It was quite cute, actually. He'd steal glances at me, and when I turned my head he'd quickly grab one, chuckling to himself. A few times I laugh at him and had to pass it off as I'd seen something funny, I got a few odd glances, that's for sure. Conversation was easy, as it always is with Frankie. I learnt that his birthday is in two weeks, on Halloween. I personally think that's awesome, but he says that because everybody was always celebrating the holiday somewhere else, he only had his mom on his birthday's. I told him that us, meaning me, Mikey, Ray, Bob and his mom can all celebrate it together. He smiled at this, and laughed when I included his mom. It was five o'clock by the time we got out of there, we got really wrapped up in our conversation.

Frank's mom still hasn't called him back, and I can tell he's really worried about her. We walk to my house and put on 28 Weeks Later. It's a British horror, about zombies. Frankie must find the film boring or something, because he falls asleep, his head on my lap, smiling slightly. I kiss his forehead, and scoop him up, bringing him down to the basement. I gently place him on the bed and start to put on his pajamas. Seems like a regular occurrence at the minute. He stirs once but I gently shush him, wanting him to get a good night's sleep again. I put my pajamas on, and climb in next to him, putting my arms around him. I stroke his hair, and listen to his breathing while studying his face. A small but content smile is on my face, finally at peace with where I am in life. At peace with being with Frankie.
The last coherent thought I have before sleep takes hold is one I am confused about, yet it feels completely right.
'I love you, Frank Iero.'

Notes

Sorry about the boring chapter, things'll hot up soon, I just wanted Gerard's P.O.V. in there before they do. I'll try and update tomorrow, but no promises. Hope you guys enjoyed it, anyway. So, nearly 1,200 reads... Thank you! I love you all!xo
Skull thing that Frankie likes, I thought it was really pretty, and I wanted to show you guys it...





P.S- I'll just leave this here......... xo