The Light Behind His Eyes (Frerard)

I swear, I did not expect Gerard to kiss me. It all just happened without warning. His lips are still pressed against mine, his eyes closed with his arms still wrapped around my neck...and here I am, looking like a dunce with my eyes wide open, unsure what to do. It's been so long since I last kissed someone, let alone a man…
But he's still, once again, so warm. I know that’s probably the billionth time I’ve said that, but it’s true! He just looks so happy and peaceful, wrapped in my arms, and that's the way I want him to be. He is still so beautiful. He may look like a disaster with his unkempt black hair, saggy and dirty clothes, and pale and bruised skin, but that doesn’t matter. He’s a beautiful disaster, and he’s kissing me right now.
Beauty is kissing me right on the lips.
I closed my eyes and put my hands on Gerard’s face, running them through his hair. My lips caressed his, the taste of nicotine strong. His lips are slimy, yet they still feel so good, but I just can't seem to say how exactly. Is it because he's a good kisser? I doubt that’s the reason why. There's no doubt in my mind that I may as well be the first person he's ever kissed. I’ll be damned if I’m not. I can tell he’s new to this whole thing by how stiff he is, his body slightly shaking. But whether I’m not his first kiss, it doesn’t matter; it doesn’t matter how good or bad of a kisser the person is, but the person who’s kissing you...and the person I’m kissing is a mess inside and out, but not just a mess, but a beautiful mess.
Our lips parted and we stared at each other straight in the eye in silence. I honestly don’t know how much time passed when we kissed. Maybe two minutes...no, four. Five. Six? Maybe more than that...
“Oh my god…” Gerard’s hazel eyes widened, his trembling mouth slightly ajar. “Frankie...what did we just do?”
“Gee,” I whispered, completely shaken after what just happened. “We just kissed…”
“Well, yeah. I know we did, but…”
“But, what?”
Gerard shook his head as he sat up, looking so embarrassed after what he just did to me unexpectedly.
“Frankie…I don’t know why I did that...I just had to. I’m sorry,”
“No, it’s okay,” I replied. “But...why?”
“I told you, I don’t know why!” Gerard exclaimed, clearly exasperated. “It just happened, Frankie, okay? What more do you want me to say?”
“You have no clue?” I asked, sitting up next to Gerard. “Things happen for a reason, you know. Everything does,”
Gerard sighed, running a frustrated and shaking hand through his hair. I swear, I can see him blushing, his cheeks turning a flushed red, contrasting against his snow white pale skin.
“I really don’t know how to say it, Frankie...it’s just that while we were talking earlier, I started to have more flashbacks...about daddy...and-and mama...as well as some other...th-things that happened to me,” he stuttered, his face forlorn. “and you were holding me while I was starting to lose it, and I was so scared because...I didn’t wanna hurt you again, like I did last time. But you held me, and as you did...the flashbacks stopped. I wasn’t freaking out anymore. You helped me calm down,”
“I know I did, Gerard. I was trying to help you,”
“I know, Frankie. I know you were...and you did,” Gerard smiled a little. “I don’t want this to sound creepy, but...it felt so good to be held like that. It felt so relieving, you know? I don’t think anyone’s ever held me like that for so long, and I think that’s why I just did what I did; because you have done so much for me. You’ve changed me. You were there when everyone else left me to rot away...and because of all that, you just mean so much to me now, and I haven’t had anyone like that in my life for such a long time...”
“You know what, Gerard?” I leaned in closer to him, wrapping my arm around his shoulders. “You needed someone to hold you like that. Sometimes that’s all we need when we’re in a bad place in our lives. A friend. Someone to talk to. Someone that’ll listen. Someone that cares…,”
The smile on Gerard’s face grew wider, the butterflies in my stomach fluttering all over inside of me. I’ll be so shocked if I’m not blushing as much as he is right now…
“Thank you, Frankie…” Gerard rested his head on my shoulder, still smiling. “Thank you so much. Thank you for being that someone,”
“You’re welcome, Gee,” I whispered. I rested my head against Gerard’s, my whole body so warm. I shut my eyes, my mind replaying the moment where we kissed. I never thought that I’d be kissing the man that started out as a mystery downstairs. But it happened anyway...and right now, I couldn’t ask for a better, more beautiful person to be with. Gerard is my friend. But he’s a very special friend. In fact, the more I think about it, he may just be more than that...but just what, exactly?
I opened my eyes back up and glanced around the room, which is something my ADD mind likes to do a lot. Something caught my eye-a notebook, with the word “lyrics” written on it in black marker.
Gerard writes music? That is just…fucking awesome! I can only imagine that what he’s written is as good as what he draws and paints.
“Hey, Gee,” I said, pointing to the book. “You write lyrics?”
“Oh, yeah,” Gerard sat up, reaching and grabbing it off the floor. “I do it in my spare time if I’m not in the mood to draw or paint,”
“That’s cool. Can I see?”
“Sure, if you want,” Gerard handed the notebook over to me. I opened it up as Gerard pulled out a pack of cigarettes in his pocket. “You mind if I smoke?”
“Go ahead, I don’t mind,” I said, flipping through the pages. My eyes skimmed over some songs, each one of them looking as beautifully written as the next. Every single one had a name to go along with them. I read over some of the titles: “Skylines and Turnstiles”, “The Ghost of You”, “Thank You For The Venom”...
But on the very last page, there’s a song that looks unfinished. It doesn’t even have a title, but somehow, it really stands out to me...why, though?
Gerard glanced over at me as he lit his cigarette, taking a long drag from it, then exhaling the smoke. He shut his eyes for a few seconds, then opened them back up, focused on his untitled, unfinished work in the book.
“So long to all my friends, everyone of them met tragic ends….” he sang melodically, reading the lyrics.
Oh my god...Gerard sings too? His voice is just...oh my god…
“With every passing day,” he continued, his voice not faltering one bit. “I’d be lying if I didn’t say, that I miss them all tonight. And if they only knew what I would say…”
That’s all the unfinished song consisted of. Just that one little paragraph...and he sang it perfectly.
Good lord...Gerard has the voice of an angel! It’s so fucking beautiful...just like him, of course.
I am at a loss of words right now. His singing has left me speechless. It swept me right off my feet. It’s so good that it kinda makes me jealous of him. Hell, he sings better than I ever can in the shower!
“G-gerard…” I stuttered. “Oh my god…”
“What?” Gerard said, his face holding an expression of concern. “What’s wrong, Frankie?”
“Nothing…” I shook my head, still shaken from what my ears have been blessed with just seconds ago. “Gee...you’re such a good singer!”
“Really?” Gerard’s eyes lit up. “You mean it?”
“Fuck yes, I mean it! You’re a good writer too! You are seriously so talented, you know that, right?”
It’s true. Gerard is a textbook example of an artistic genius. He’s so much of one, it’s almost intimidating. I swear, if Gerard weren’t so...well, “messed up”, I have a feeling he would be famous, like he’d be a well-known comic book artist or a lead singer in a rock band (or hell, even both of those things). Unfortunately, I guess that’s another thing that’s been robbed of him, no thanks to his tragic and heartbreaking backstory; he had no chance at a bright future.
Gerard didn’t answer my question. He just kinda smiled nervously, looking down at his feet as he continued to smoke his cigarette.
“You’re not saying that just to flatter me, are you?” he asked, taking another drag from his cancer stick.
“Of course not, Gee. I really, really mean it!” I picked up Gerard’s notebook, skimming through the pages again, adoring his literary works. “Seriously, how did you become so...you know, good at all this stuff anyway?”
I don’t think Gerard liked me asking that. The look on his face grew sullen, his eyes still focused the ground, his hazel eyes lightless and forlorn.
“Frankie…” he said, his sad eyes glancing up at me.
“Oh, Gee...I’m sorry,” I replied, wanting to slap myself for upsetting Gerard again. “I didn’t mean to-”
“The person that taught me all that...,” Gerard interrupted, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table. “...was my grandmother, Elena…”
“Oh...really?”
“Yes, Frankie. She was my teacher…” Gerard smiled a little despite the sorrow clearly in his voice, looking down at his folded hands. “She’s the one that taught me the beauty of art. She was also a friend…a very close one, too. In fact, she was probably one of the only ones I ever had…”
Was? I can sadly guess that based on Gerard constantly referring to her in past tense that she’s no longer alive…
Wait a minute...his grandma? He mentioned her earlier, didn’t he? He mentioned that she gave him a sketchbook before she passed away in his arms, only to have that book destroyed by those three bullies from school, which made him snap and kill them.
This woman must’ve held a really special place in Gerard’s heart; a broken heart that’s slowly being mended back together.
“I’m really sorry, Gee. It sounds like she was a very nice lady,” I said, paying my respects to Gerard’s late grandmother.
“Oh, she was. You woulda loved her, Frankie. She taught me so much. She was the only one that was there for me after what happened to daddy and mama…”
Gerard looked back down at his folded hands, his eyes full of grief-stricken agony, morning over the loss of his grandmother, his teacher, and close friend.
“She fought tooth and nail to be able to have me visit her when I was in foster care. Lucky for me, I was able to see her after she pulled a few strings with them. But for Mikey, he sadly wasn't too lucky…”
“Why not?” I asked.
“I don't know, Frankie,” Gerard shrugged.”the foster system is really fucked up, it's almost ludicrous,”
“Sounds like it,”
“Yeah...but anyway, after all that trouble, I was able to go visit my grandma at her house once a week. They were honestly the best days of my life. She saw that I liked to finger paint and draw a lot, so...she thought it was only appropriate to teach me how to draw and paint good over the years. She used to be an art teacher at a high school before she had to retire, so...I guess she really wanted to pass down her artistic talents to me,”
“That's nice. She also taught you how to sing and write too, right?”
“Of course,” Gerard nodded. “When she was really young, like high school age, she was in a lot of school plays and musicals. She was also a part of the school choir. So of course, singing was something she was eager to teach me, since she saw I liked singing along with the music playing from her record player or her radio, a lot of oldies stuff. I remember when I was in elementary school, there was this production of Peter Pan going on there, and I guess for the hell of it, I decided to try it out...and I pretty much got the lead role, because I think my music teacher loved my voice when she heard me sing...and of course, my grandma was jumping with joy when she got the news, so that made her even more determined to teach me to sing,”
Little Gerard Way? In a Peter Pan play? I may sound like a soccer mom for saying this, but...that honestly sounds so adorable, aside from it also sounding freaking hilarious, picturing a young Gee in green tights, singing songs about not wanting to grow up.
“My God, Frankie…” Gerard chuckled, looking up at me. “You shoulda seen what she made for me to wear for the play...she made me this outfit...and it was green tights. She was just so thrilled about it, it was almost embarrassing...but you know what? She was just really happy for me. I made her proud,”
“I bet you did, Gee. How did the writing come in?” I asked.
“The writing kinda came to me naturally. As I grew older, I began to read more, usually comic books and horror novels. I also started to listen to a lot of music, like punk rock. Around the time I started high school, I took up writing. I wrote a lot of short stories and song lyrics, and I would ask my grandma for constructive criticism. She’d give me some tips for improving my work and always encouraged me to get some of my stories published in magazines, which I actually managed to do a couple times,”
“That's really cool, Gerard. I honestly always hated reading, but I remember I loved writing my own work,”
“What did you write?” Gerard asked.
“Mostly lyrics. I told you I've always wanted to be in a band, right?”
“Yeah, you did. You told me you wanted to be a guitarist, right?”
“Yeah, that and maybe do backup vocals,”
“That's awesome, Frankie!” Gerard said, elation in his voice. “I really gotta hear you play sometime, you know?”
“Sure,” I smiled nervously. I hope he thinks I don't suck too bad when I do. I'm not one to play in front of others. I know I have enough experience sound at least passable, but I'm not a pro either, I don't think. Not like Ray Toro is…
“So, anyway…” Gerard continued, once again looking back down at his folded hands. “you can only imagine how much Elena meant to me. She was there for me all throughout the years, all the way up to my junior year in high school, over Christmas break…”
The crestfallen, grieving look on Gerard's face returned, tears welling up in his eyes.
“Her health had been deteriorating over the years, since she was so old, of course. But it wasn’t until around the start of my sophomore year when we found out she had stage four lung cancer...which doesn't make sense. She never smoked!”
“I'm really sorry, Gerard,” I said, putting a consoling hand on his shoulder. “You were there for her, right?”
“Of course I was, Frankie. She was there for me when I was little, so the best I could do was return the favor. Over a period of time, the illness grew worse despite treatment, so she had no choice but to be put in a nursing home, since she couldn't take care of herself anymore. I visited her there as much as I possibly could, and I even helped take care of her with some things, like bathing and dressing her, which of course both her and the nurses really appreciated…”
“You really did all that for her, Gee?”
“Yeah, I sure did,”
“Wow…” I said, admiring Gerard for the amount of love and care he had towards his grandma. “Kudos to you, man. I honestly can't even picture myself doing stuff like that for my grandparents,”
It's true, as selfish as it sounds. It's not that I hated my grandparents or anything, I didn't at all. I just wasn't as close to them as Gerard was to his grandma. Also, I think I'd puke if I had to bathe them, amongst other personal things. People in the nursing field must have really strong stomachs and balls of steel to be willing to be do that kind of stuff for a bunch of old people…
“It's okay, Frankie,” Gerard laughed. “I understand what you mean. I wouldn't do it for anyone else but her. Like I said before, she took care of me growing up, so it was only fair to do the same for her before she…”
All the emotion in Gerard's face vanished, his eyes growing wide as he sat there quietly. He shut them, breathing slowly as he planted his face into his hands, mourning in silence. Heartbroken seeing him like this, I reached into my back pocket to pull out a handkerchief I keep on me, for some reason I don't even know, maybe just for when I need it, like now. I handed the handkerchief to Gerard, who snatched it right from my hands and dabbed at his tearful eyes with it.
“It was Christmas when she died in the hospital,” he said, sniffling. “The doctors told her she wouldn't have long to live, and that nothing was working to fight the cancer, not even the chemo was helping much. It was just that bad. She was suffering so much, it was hard to watch her rot away like that…”
“I don't blame you. Did she at least...you know, die peacefully?”
“She did, Frankie. I remember she gave me a sketchbook as my Christmas present. She wanted me to keep pursuing drawing, and all that other stuff, and I of course told her I will, for her. She was in so much pain in her final moments, I held on to her for my dear life. I cried so much that night. I really didn't want her to go. She was all I had. She was what made me strong, Frankie. All the kids at school, they picked on me so much, and there were some days I'd come home crying because I couldn’t take it anymore...and she was always there for me, she always held me, just like I held her on that Christmas night in the hospital…”
By this point, Gerard was hysterically in tears, despite his efforts to shed them away with my handkerchief. I sat there silently as he mourned and cried, feeling my soul being ripped apart.
“Gerard…,” I said. “I'm so so-”
“She told me I have to be stronger,” he interrupted, his voice choked and shaking. “She-she told me I have to be stronger when she's gone. She told me I must be stronger when she's no longer there, Frankie...and that's when she died, right in my arms…”
Unable to bear seeing Gerard hurting so much over his loss, I took him into my arms and held him once again, letting him weep on me. Gerard wrapped his arms around me, his sobs subdued to sniffles muffled by my jacket. I shut my eyes as I held him, stroking his tangled hair.
“I'm so sorry, Gerard,” I whispered. “I know I've already said it a million times before, but I really mean it. I just can't imagine losing someone so close to me like that,”
“It's hard, Frankie,” Gerard looked up at me, his crying hazel eyes bloodshot from the tears. “It's so hard when someone like that leaves you. You just never truly know what you have until it's gone. I just miss her so much, Frankie. I miss Elena…”
Gerard let go of me, his head hung down, his hair obscuring his mourning, tearful eyes.
“I really fucking miss her so much…,” he said, drying his eyes with my handkerchief. “I miss her so much that I wrote a song dedicated to her, in memory of her. I did it as a way to cope with losing her,”
“Really?” My eyes lit up. “What's it called?”
“It's called Helena. It's one of the songs in that lyric notebook,”
I flipped through the pages of the book, finding the song with it’s and title written in black pen.
“Long ago…” Gerard sang lowly as my eyes scanned over the lyrics. “Just like the hearse you died to get in again. We are so far from you…wait-” he suddenly stopped. “Frankie...you don’t mind if I sing, do you?”
“Of course not!” I smiled. “I don’t mind at all. I love hearing you sing!”
“Oh...alright, then…”

Burning on just like a match you strike to incinerate
The lives of everyone you know
And what's the worst you take (worst you take)
From every heart you break (heart you break)
And like the blade you stain (blade you stain)
Well, I've been holding on tonight

What's the worst that I can say?
Things are better if I stay
So long and goodnight
So long and goodnight

Came a time
When every star fall brought you to tears again
We are the very hurt you sold

And what's the worst you take (worst you take)
From every heart you break (heart you break)
And like the blade you stain (blade you stain)
Well, I've been holding on tonight

What's the worst that I can say?
Things are better if I stay
So long and goodnight
So long and goodnight

And if you carry on this way
Things are better if I stay
So long and goodnight
So long and goodnight

Can you hear me?
Are you near me?
Can we pretend
To leave and then
We'll meet again
When both our cars collide.

What's the worst that I can say?
Things are better if I stay
So long and goodnight
So long and goodnight

And if you carry on this way
Things are better if I stay
So long and goodnight
So long and goodnight

“Beautiful!” I exclaimed, still blown away and mesmerized by the song, as well as the utterly phenomenal talent Gerard possesses. “Absolutely amazing, man!”
“You think so?” Gerard asked, smiling shyly, cheeks blushing a little. “I wrote it a long time ago, when I was still in high school. It could use some touching up…”
“Nah, man. I like it the way it is, to be honest,” I said truthfully. I wouldn’t change it at all. It’s just that fucking good.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m positive. I think your grandma would be so proud of you, seeing that you’re such a good artist, you know?”
The shy smile on Gerard’s face grew wider, his face flushed with flattery.
“You know what?” he said. “I think you’re right. Thank you, Frankie…”
“You’re welcome, Gee,” I smiled. I glanced back down at the notebook in my hands, suddenly remembering the untitled song I read earlier that Gerard also sang. “Hey, I got a question,”
“What’s that?”
“That other song you wrote…” I flipped through the pages, soon finding it and skimming over the one little paragraph on the sheet of paper. “That other one you sang to me. What’s that one about?”
“Oh…” Gerard muttered, looking down. “I never finished that one yet. I want to, though,”
“I know,” I replied. “But I’m just kinda curious...what do you mean by ‘so long to all my friends?’”
“Oh, that?” Gerard said glumly, still glancing down at the floor. “I wrote that part in dedication to all the people I held close to me...like, my grandma Elena...and...daddy and mama…”
Goddamn it. Now I feel like an idiot for asking. Not only because it’s obvious what the line’s about, but because I once again made Gerard sad and-
“I wrote that part of the song in memory of them. I still miss them all. They all died right in front of me, and that’s what made it so tragic, you know?”
“I see what you mean,” I sighed remorsefully. “I’m sorry for asking, I should’ve known that-”
“No, Frankie. It’s okay,” Gerard put a reassuring hand on my shoulder, smiling a little. “You don’t have to apologize,”
“Really? Are you sure?”
“Positive. It’s not your fault. I actually really like that you’re so into my art. I really appreciate it. I like how you’re so intrigued by it. I like how you’re so curious about it, you know what I’m saying?”
“Oh, really?” My eyes lit up. “Well, it’s true. You’re just such a good artist. You paint and draw good, you write good, and you’re especially really good at singing. I just don’t wanna, like, bring up something that might upset you, you know?”
“Frankie…” Gerard groaned. “Don’t worry about it. I know you don’t mean to do that to me. I really hate having to see you police yourself how you talk to me. You can ask me anything, or at least just about anything, that is. I really wanna be able to move on. It’s hard, but I gotta do it anyway, somehow. Besides, you opened up to me about what happened with you and your parents, and I felt so bad for asking in the first place, but you wanted to tell me. You told me you were healing. You said it was gonna hurt, but in the end, it’ll feel all better. Don’t you remember that?”
I do remember that. I opened up to Gerard that night. I spilled my whole soul out to him. I cried. I screamed. I felt the pain. I remember every second of it, from start to finish. I let it all go, and in the end, it felt great. Now, Gerard wants to do the same. He wants to be healed from the scars from his past. He wants to stop hurting.
But the thing is, I know that he’s been hurting more than I have. He has much more scars compared to me. What I had were papercuts compared to the wounds he’s endured throughout his life. Therefore, it’s gonna be much hardejhr for him than it was for me…
“So, you know what, Frankie?” Gerard said suddenly. “Just ask me anything, and I’ll be happy to answer as best as I can, and if I get upset, it’s okay. It’s just me hurting. It’s just me trying to fight it. No one ever said hurting was gonna be painless, right? No one ever said healing was gonna be easy, Frankie...but…”
“But what?” I asked.
Gerard bit his lip, looking down at his feet nervously. He looked back up at me, his hard, hazel-eyed stare piercing straight through my soul.
“But...if I start to get violent, like I did that one time. If I ever, ever try to do what I did to you that one day, God forbid I do, then run. Run for your fucking life...and never look back. Never come back down here again. Just forget about me, okay?”
“But Gerard,” I refuted, cringing at the thought of having to do such a thing to Gerard, despite how mentally unstable and messed up he is. “I don’t wanna do that to you. I don’t wanna abandon you. I wanna help you-”
“No, Frankie!” Gerard exclaimed, clamping his shaking hands on my shoulders, making me jump a little. “Listen to me. I know I’m not well. I’m fucked up. I have hurt people before. I’ve put people in the hospital. I made people spend the rest of their lives wheelchair-bound, eating their meals through a fucking straw. I’ve killed people before, and I never, ever wanna do that to you! Besides, if I ever let myself do such a thing to you, I don’t deserve someone so precious like you, do I? It would be pathetic for me to push away someone who means so much to me like that. I should have just cut myself off from you entirely after what happened last night, but...I’m giving myself one last chance, as crazy as it sounds. And if I fuck up again, then it’s all over. Do you understand, Frankie?”
I really don’t know what to say. I can’t help but think he’s right. He’s hurt too many people, and he never wants my name to be added to that list. He’s done it to me before, and he genuinely never wants to let it happen again. Do I really mean that much to him? Because now I’m just starting to realize that he does mean a lot to me, and I think the worst I could ever do is leave him behind, just like Mikey has done…but then again, based off what he’s told me, as well as what I’ve seen firsthand, Gerard is a very sick, very unpredictable person-
“Do you understand me?” Gerard asked again, his grip on my shoulders tightening and voice rising. “Please, tell me you do,”
“Y-yes,” I stuttered. “I do,”
“Do you swear, you’ll do as I say? Do you swear you’ll run if I ever try to hurt you again?”
“Yes…” I said weakly. “I swear…”
Gerard stood there in silence, his hands letting go of me, but not his stare.
“Good,” he said flatly.
We sat there in awkward silence. The silence is so profound that I swear you can hear a pin drop. Gerard looked away from me, back down at his notebook, flipping over to the page of his unfinished song with no title.
“You know, Frankie…” he said, breaking the silence. “I really wanna finish this song one day. I just don’t know how, but...I really want it to be meaningful. I want this one to be one of the best I’ve written,”
“I believe you can finish it,” I replied, reading over his work again. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something. You’re already off to a good start with it,”
“Really? You think so?”
“Of course. It’s got a lot of potential. You just gotta stick to it, and write your ideas down when something good comes to mind. That’s what I’d do when I’m trying to think of ideas for a song I wanna write,”
“I know,” Gerard nodded. “Maybe I gotta wait for something to happen. Something big, you know? Something that’ll inspire me. That way I’ll know what to do with my work, which direction to go with it,”
“Yeah, you could look at it like that. You just never know, man. I’m sure something will come to mind. Besides, you’re a very creative and intelligent person,”
“Thank you, Frankie,” Gerard smiled. “I’m glad you think so,”
“Oh, Gee...I don’t think so. I know you are! I’m stating facts here,”
“C’mon, don’t kiss my ass,” he laughed, rolling his eyes. “There are people out there better than me,”
“Well...you’re the best I’ve ever seen, if that counts,”
“If you say so,”
I looked around the room, my eyes studying some of Gerard’s paintings. Off in the corner, I noticed an art easel and canvas, with a painting on it that looks finished, or at least just about. It displays a lone dead black tree in the middle of a field, the whole scenery painted in neutral colors like black, white, and gray. Despite the lack of color the artwork has, it isn’t short of being as gorgeous and breathtaking as the rest of Gerard’s work adorning the room.
“Hey, Gee,” I said, pointing to the canvas. “What’s up with that painting over there? You still working on it, or…?”
“Oh, that one?” Gerard replied, taking notice of the painting I’m referring to. “I’m almost finished with it. Haven’t had the time to do so. But yeah, that’s what I’m working on right now,”
“Oh, alright. It’s beautiful,”
“Hey,” Gerard turned his head to me, warm smile on his face and hazel eyes radiant. “You’re beautiful, Frankie…”
Unable to contain myself, I looked down shyly, blushing as a smile stretched across my face. Those three words he just said to me hit me like a freight train, making the butterflies in my stomach flutter like crazy. I probably look like such a dill weed, being all hot and bothered right now, but I don’t really care.
“You know, when I first saw you that night you came down here, I just thought you were the most beautiful thing ever, you know?” Gerard scooched closer to me, his hand lightly stroking my cheek. I glanced up at him, my eyes unable to look away from his, the blushing smile plastered on my face. “Better and more beautiful than anything I can possibly ever paint,”
“R-really?” I said, barely able to speak.
“Yeah. I know it sounds cheesy, but it’s true. That’s literally the first thing that came to my mind when I saw you, and I was just so touched that you wanted me to hang out with you. I thought for a second I was dreaming, but of course...I wasn’t,”
“Gee,” I laughed, my cheeks burning from how much I must be blushing right now. “Now you’re the one that’s kissing my ass!”
“But still, Frankie. It’s true, you know…”
Gerard shut his eyes, leaning forward. Our faces touched, our lips just inches away from each other. I sat there with my eyes closed, feeling Gerard’s warmth consume me. He’s just so close to kissing me, but…
“Gerard,” I whispered, curious about something. “I got a question…”
“Yes?”
“Am I...the first person you’ve kissed?” I slowly wrapped my arms around him.
“Well...the first guy I’ve ever kissed,” Gerard said. “but not the first person,”
“Oh…” I reached up to the back of his head and lightly stroked his hair. “What’s it like kissing a girl?”
“Honestly...nothing like this. Doesn’t come close at all…”
“Hmm...I see,”
“But you know what, Frankie? You’re not only the first guy I’ve kissed...but you’re the first person I kissed where I really felt it...if you know what I mean,”
“Oh, really? You’re not just saying that to flatter me, are you?”
“Of course not, Frank-”
I cut Gerard off, tightening my embrace around him as my lips collided with his. I caressed him, my whole body indulging in just how fucking good it feels being up against his. His breaths grew heavier as he lightly moaned, his lips kissing mine. I leaned forward, pinning him down to the couch.
“Frankie…” Gerard moaned, his voice muffled by my lips. “You’re...beautiful…”
“I know, Gee,” I whispered, biting his lower lip as I continued to stroke his head. “So are you…”

Notes