I woke up past lunch time, alone in bed. I rolled to the other side of the bed and read the note Gerard left on the nightstand, squinting my eyes so I could focus the writing.

Going out to re-stock the fridge. I love you, midget! :)
xoxo, G

Gerard shopping for food always gave me time to relax a bit. I got up, stretching my body from head to toe with a loud yawn, making my way to the kitchen and found something between a breakfast and a lunch on our table since I woke up so late. He was so sweet to leave me that. Besides, he even placed a rose on the side. I love that man so much it makes me sick sometimes.
I took my coffee mug after eating that delicious breakfast and went to the bedroom. It was fucking cold that day, the weather forecast told it was much likely to end up raining, so I turned the heater on and made my way to the vinyl that was carefully placed on the shelves, as the raindrops were hitting the glass of the windows. Gerard sure did love his vinyl, and I also had a crush on them, being fully honest. He had sort of a pride on it, and I loved that. I loved how simple things would bring him pure happiness.
I slowly ran my fingertip over them with my eyes closed, a method I had created to pick one sometimes. When I stopped I opened my eyes. I put down my coffee mug on the desk and got the vinyl ready, soon hearing the melody echoing on the bedroom. I let the sound envelop me, and yes, I loved when I sang my fucking lungs out with Gerard, or when I was onstage, but this was my own moment, right there, right now. It was my own bliss.
I started throwing some dance moves, nothing too furious. This was a moment where I could just enjoy, and it felt magical. Piano keys surrounded my ears and made their way inside my soul.

- Honey, I'm ho-

I kept on dancing, singing in front of the bed. I opened my eyes to see him by the door, his arms crossed over his chest. His snowy-like skin with a hint of pink on his cheeks and his sweet smile, along his sparkling hazel eyes gazing at me. It was there that all hit me. I was in love with that man. Gerard Arthur Way. (And the thought of him having 'Iero' as his last name pounded on my mind...)

- Join me? - I asked proudly, offering him a hand.
- I'd be delighted to, my love. - He answered, accepting me and slowly dancing with me.
- What? - He grinned.
- I just... Before I met you, I couldn't even think of the possibility of finding someone for me. I never thought of how good it would be to grow old looking at the same face every morning. I never thought of the possibility of wishing to be someone's 'forever'. I don't know what happened with my life at some point. I think I hade some sort of an accident that made all my senses get into some sort of coma. Somehow, when you walked in my life with the same level of spontaneity as that accident, you woke all my senses up, again.

(Wow, Frank, where's your philosophy Nobel prize at?)

- I-I... I don't know what to say, Frankie. That was the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me.
- Then don't say anything. I don't need words from you now. - I smiled at him, leaning my head against his chest with my arms around his neck. I breathed his scent like I needed it to live. No, not like. I needed it to live.

''There's no you and me
This impossible year
Only heartache and heartbreak
And gin made of tears
The bitter pill is swallowed
The scars souvenir
That tattoo, your last bruise
This impossible year
There's never air to breathe
There's never in-betweens
These nightmares always hang on past the dream.''

The music kept playing in the background. Although the lyrics are depressing as heck, the melody made it seem like the most beautiful love song. I like to think of it as the song I'll never have to experience. It's the life I'll never have, with Gerard. I knew we were meant to be.
And then, there we were, kissing each other like it was the last thing we wanted to do before we died.

---

- Stop eating all the ingredients, I'm not going to have enough for dinner, Jesus, Gerard!
- Oh yeah, whatcha gonna' do about that, midget? - He smirked, biting a carrot I was planning to use in order to make the tomato sauce for the pasta. I hate him.
- Ugh, fine, just get me another one from the fridge, asshole.
- Whatever you say, sweetie. - He sang, as he kissed my forehead and made his way to fetch another carrot, smiling like an idiot. He's an idiot. But I love him. I hate that I love him so fucking much.

---

The next morning, after falling asleep on the couch, we were both in pain. The popcorn was scattered on my chest and on the floor, the coke cans fallen on the table. It was comfortable, but it wasn't sleep-comfortable, at all. We took something for the pain that was coursing all over our bodies, followed by a shower and went visit Mikey again, as we agreed we would do according to the schedule we planned.

The morning passed by. The days passed by. And soon enough Mikey was recovering well. By this point, he could already walk but he still couldn't make too much effort, so he got some crutches and little by little he was going back to normal.
Mikey was already at home, after two weeks, but Gerard drove him every day to physiotherapy as Dr. Vicenzo ordered. I wonder if he got better after what happened to him, and also, he had been talking with Mikey on the phone for a long couple of days. Except it wasn't the common doctor-patient talk. It was something much more intimate, and I could tell, at least from what I heard from time to time. Obviously, it wasn't intentional of my behalf to hear it, and Mikey did have a shy voice himself, but sometimes we were all three on the living room watching movies and he would get up to go to the balcony talk. I think Gerard never understood that this was going on, but since Mikey had told me those things about him previously, I could figure it out.
Gerard was about to have another small exhibit at an old building. Well, old building on the outside, the inside was pretty cool for that kind of event, so I've heard. And Gerard never told me what was the exhibit about, so I was clearly going with him, whether he'd invite me or not. I had the right to be proud of my boyfriend's art and work. Soon enough, the question popped up, like he had been reading my mind. We were playing video games and we made a small break for snacks. The three of us got up and went to the kitchen, sitting at the table with cokes and some muffins he brought from Starbucks.

- So, who wants to go to an art exhibit next Friday? I heard the guy that made the paintings was pretty hot.
- Ew, Gerard, shut the fuck up with your cockiness! - Mikey whined.
- That word reminds me of something which Frankie here is quite fond of. - Gerard snorted, roughly squeezing my thigh under the table and looking at me with lust-blown eyes, biting his lip at me. Once again, I hate that motherfucker.
- I'm in, though. Do we have to dress formal and all that shit? - Mikey asked, furrowing his perfect eyebrows. (Calm the fuck down, Frank, they're just eyebrows. And it's just Mikey. It's just Mikey.)
- Yeah, you can go with a t-shirt, though, as long as the rest is a black suit. - Gerard told him.
- What about Frank? Doesn't he need to pick a dress or something? - As much as I love Mikey (only in a brotherly way, of course) he can be really fucking mean to me sometimes.
- Oh, of course! How could I possibly forget about that? What do you say, baby, purple or red? Sequins? Long or short? - Gerard quickly asked, acting like one of those bride stores women.
- Maybe just let me go with a red, long, silk dress, with some heels, how 'bout that? Huh? I mean, I look hot in everything. I bet I'd look hot on that too. - I mocked, sarcastically.

Mikey fucking laughed until his belly started hurting, and Gerard looked at me as it looked like he was considering it, with a devilish smirk on his lips, which made me a bit worried. I mean, I'd totally do drag with him, but just for him, and at home, for fun. Not for display at an event, Jesus, that would be a nightmare. Although he would be the one wearing something like that in public. He could totally pass as a girl and a fairly attractive one.
Already in bed, I had to bring up the subject, because me, Frank Iero, can not shut the fuck up. It's a natural law.

- So that dress thing, were you really meaning it? - I laughed nervously.
- Do you really think I would appreciate if the guests looked to you instead of my work? Absolutely not! Plus, only I can have that pleasure. I'm not denying I would like to see you like that, hell, I would fucking love it. - He panted as he pressed kisses on my neck.
- I see. But, Gerard, is that a brush on your pants or are you just happy to see me? - I smirked at him. Of course, I knew it wasn't a brush.
- Oh, Frankie, there are fifty words for murder, and you're every one of them.

Notes

THIS STORY IS SO FUCKING CHEESY SOMETIMES, I HATE MYSELF :))

but hey, have some more fluff. it's not bad, right? and also can we all just appreciate how FUCKING GOOD Death Of A Bachelor is overall? I always loved Brendon's voice, it always had so much passion contained, and he does have a heck of a voice, like, it's super powerful. Impossible Year was the song I picked the lyrics from, I've been with it stuck in my mind all day long. I also made a reference to the Victorious song of the same album, because... yeah.

almost 4000 views, too, guys. I love you all. I think this is still a dream. so nobody better wake me up. motherfucker, I'll knock you out.

- luna