It's Only Just A Dream

Gerard had never ridden a motorcycle before and, as he sat on the back of Frank's with his arms wrapped firmly around the older boy's chest, he decided it was absolutely fucking terrifying. It was exhilarating, and liberating, and exciting and freeing and amazing, but it was also most definitely fucking terrifying.

Gerard wasn't sure Frank should be driving - he was high after all, and the bike did seem to be going kind of fast for a thirty-mile-per-hour zone - but every time Gerard opened his mouth to scream something in Frank's ear about slowing down he got a mouthful of dust and grit from what the tyres were churning up off the road.

The more he thought about it, the surer he was that he didn't want Frank to slow down. This was the most fun he had had in ages, and ignoring the fact that it was dangerous to the point of life threatening, he didn't want it to end. The joint had given him a light, care-free feeling in his chest; he didn't care that he was skipping school to bring his brother's worst enemy back to his house. He didn't care that his parents would be angry with him for skipping school - even though Mikey had skipped all of the school day today and they wouldn't care about that - or that it was Frank that had persuaded him to do all of this. All that mattered was that he could feel
Frank's chest rising and falling in his arms, could feel his body heat and smell the scent of his deodorant mixed with the stench of sweat and weed that clung to him and wanted to be as close to him as possible.

He knew that later on, when he had sobered up a little and Frank's smell wasn't distracting him anymore, Gerard would lie to himself and tell himself that it was the drug fuelling these thoughts, these desires… but sitting on the back of Frank's noisy motorbike, inhaling the other guy's scent and rubbing tiny circles onto his chest with his fingertips - the part of Gerard's brain that wasn't baked told him to stop, but the part that was was telling him that if they were small enough, Frank wouldn't notice - it was easier to admit the truth.

He liked Frank. He like liked Frank, and he had for a while. It had started off as something a little more concrete; at first it had just been physical attraction. Gerard was attracted to the tattoos all over Frank's body, the piercing through his bottom lip, his dark, tousled hair that fell over his eyes, his baggy clothes and carefree attitude. It had created the ultimate bad-boy look, and Gerard couldn't deny that he liked it. He liked it a lot. The fact that Frank skipped school to smoke weed underneath the bleachers and rode a motorbike only helped to cement the image, but that was all it was at first. An image. An illusion. A fantasy.

But then, bit by bit, Gerard began to get to know Frank better. He apologised to the younger boy, and he was nice to him, and he talked to him when no one else would and said the one thing he somehow knew Gerard wanted to hear: 'he wasn't Mikey'. Everybody in school was always associating Gerard with his older brother and the gang and danger, and he was getting sick of it. He was his own person, and no one, not even Mikey, had been able to accept that. But then Frank had…

That moment right then, when Frank had said those things, was when Gerard had first looked past the image and actually began to like Frank for his personality. He was a good person; he was nice and kind and generous and he had befriended Gerard for no reason and yes, Gerard decided, he was able to admit that he was hopelessly crushing on Frank Iero.

Not that he thought anything would ever come of it. Frank was cool, and popular, and handsome and not afraid to break rules, and who was Gerard? Gerard was some random loser freshman who followed the two most popular people in school around as his only friends. He was the weird kid that hid behind his brother's reputation for protection; he was Frank's polar opposite, so why would someone like Frank ever want to date someone like Gerard?

"I know I'm pretty fuckin' awesome and psychic and shit," Frank called from just in front of Gerard. "But you're gonna have to give me directions if you want to get to your house any time soon."

"Oh," Gerard exclaimed, feeling stupid but the weightless feeling in his chest making him unable to do anything but giggle uncontrollably. "You have to— have to turn left at the park and carry straight on until you get to the mini supermarket on the corner."

Frank didn't say anything, but Gerard felt it vibrate through his chest as he grunted in response. The helmet was a little too big for Gerard and covered his eyes a little, but Gerard wasn't worried about it. He wondered if that made him stupid or reckless, but couldn't bring himself to care as Frank leaned forwards and sped up, zooming past the park and turning left just like Gerard had said.

When Gerard's house finally came into view, he pointed at it excitedly and didn't lower his arm until Frank had swerved right and parked, the motorbike shuddering to a stop in the Way family's drive. Frank looked up at Gerard and Mikey's house for the second time— the first time was when Frank and Mikey had almost finished freshmen year, and Frank and his gang had thought it would be funny to stand outside Mikey's house, hopefully intimidating him. Their plan had backfired when they learnt that Mikey wasn't even in the house, but he doubted Gerard remembered that.

He took the chance to really examine the house; it was nice. It was the kind of house that you saw in films where the main character wears preppy outfits and drives a Mercedes Benz. It was a paint job away from having a white picket fence with a neatly mowed lawn and frilly curtains covering the windows. It was exactly the type of house Frank's family couldn't afford and would never be able to live in, and he envied Mikey for it. He didn't say any of that to Gerard's of course; he just waited for the kid to lead him inside so he would get to see the interior of this wonderful house.

Gerard had a key, thank god. Frank was worried that they would have to break a window or kick the door down, but Gerard ended that possibility by pulling a shining silver key out of the front pocket of his school bag and giggling. Baked Gerard seemed to think everything say funny, and, Frank had to say, I was sort of endearing. Frank wondered what the kid would do if he were to kiss him now; just push him up against the front door and cover his lips with his own. He wondered what Mikey would do if he ever found out. If it hadn't before, going inside with Gerard seemed like a very, very good idea.

The younger boy fumbled with the key for a few seconds, the numb and heavy feeling taking over his fingers probably due to it being his first getting high, before he eventually managed to insert it into the lock and swing the door open. Frank was hit with immediate warmth and a feeling of comfort; Gee's house was a safe place. Nothing bad could ever happen here, Frank could tell.

"You wanna— do you wanna drink?" Gerard asked, turning round to close the door after Frank as the older boy ambled in. He was blatantly checking out the house he was being invited into, so he didn't register the fact that Gerard had asked him a question until the younger boy reached out and brushed his fingertips against Frank's forearm, insistent and questioning with a high pitched, "Frank?" closely following it.

"Huh?— Oh! Um… yeah, okay. Yeah, water? Do you have water?"

Gerard giggled at him and Frank wanted to smack his hand into his forehead. He was practically standing in a fucking palace, and he asked the kid if they had water. Frank frowned to himself as he wondered why he was making a fool of himself; he wasn't usually so calm and cool an came collected, not idiotic and mistake-prone. It occurred to Frank that he was actually nervous, that being with Gerard in his house - such an intimate environment - was making him nervous, but he brushed the though off. It was probably the weed beginning to take effect; he couldn't think of any other reasonable excuse for his behaviour. He obviously wasn't nervous…

"Frank!" Gerard called, and when Frank snapped to he realised with a jolt that he was alone in the living room. Gee had started towards the kitchen, expecting to follow him, whilst Frank had stared off into space like a freak. God, he needed to get his shit together. With a sigh, he followed after the kid and nodded his thanks as Gee held the kitchen door open for him.

"Is it always like this?" Gee asked breathlessly as he proceeded to grab a glass and overflow it with water from the tap. Frank chuckled at the image and reached over, gently turning the handle on the faucet because the younger boy certainly wasn't going to ny time soon. He took the glass from Gee's hand - sternly telling himself that he did not deliberately brush his fingers over the back of the kid's knuckles - and took a sip.

"Like what?" Frank replied, searching for clarification.

"Like…" Gerard ran the tip his tongue over his bottom lip as he thought, and Frank tried his very best not to focus on the unconscious action. "Like fuzzy, warm… nice. Just nice. Does it always feel nice?"

Frank ran a hand over his face, wishing he had smoked more of the joint before he had had to put it out. He was so close to being high, just a little more and he would have the same carefree, fuzzy feeling Gerard was experiencing, but it was too late now and he wasn't going to light up a new one in Gee's home.

"Yeah kid." He answered. "It always feels nice. Why the hell would anyone do it I feel it didn't feel nice?"

Gee frowned suddenly, his eyebrows drawing together and his lips curling down at the sides so that it almost looked like he was pouting. Frank had to remind himself that mood swings were probably common for the first time someone got high. He also had to remind himself that he could not go over to Gerard and kiss that stupidly adorable little pout off of his face, not while the kid was so obviously baked. Not only was he three, almost four, years older than Gerard, but he was the one that gave the kid the marijuana and then took him home. If anyone ever found out, Frank would look so, so guilty.

Still, it didn't hurt to daydream…

"Why d'you always do that?" Gee asked, sounding so hurt that Frank had to convince himself that it was the drug in him talking. It was hard not to feel guilty when he was gazing up at Frank with big, brown eyes framed by dark eyelashes… long, black hair that looked so soft and touchable…

Yes, Frank decided, it did hurt to daydream.

"Do what?" Frank defended dumbly, taking a large gulp of water to drown out the inappropriate thoughts: images of all the bad things he could do to Gerard were flooding his mind and it was becoming increasingly difficult to look the boy in the eye.

"Call me kid. You do it all the time!" Gerard complained, and, whilst Frank was sure he didn't do it all the time, he let himself be whined at. He was too sweet to interrupt. "I'm not a kid! I'm— I'm a… a young adult! Yes! You don't have to act like we're from two totally different generations."

Frank wondered when Gerard had started to seem less and less like an acquaintance - someone to manipulate and to play with whilst also serving the purpose of getting one up on Mikey - and more and more like someone that Frank would enjoy spending time with. Gerard had looked so alive out on the playing field when they were talking about art; his eyes had glittered and the words had come pouring freely off his tongue and out of his mouth. Now that he was high, he was expressing his feelings and opinions with the same ease— if only Frank could get the boy to talk like this when he was sober. He was sure he'd fit right in with Frank's group of friends, if only he'd open up a little more; if only he wasn't a blood relative of their arch enemy.

"Sorry," frank apologised absentmindedly, but it seemed that Gerard was already over the issue, his mind having wandered to yet another strange topic.

"Where did I leave my pencil?" He kept muttering under his breath, slowly getting worked up. He left the kitchen, leaving Frank to trail after him wherever he decided to go— eventually it led up the stairs. Frank felt his heart pounding with every step he took, and even though he wasn't doing anything wrong - lying to the kid to get dirt on his brother aside - it felt like he was. He was just an eighteen year old guy, going with his fifteen year old friend into said fifteen year old's bedroom. There wasn't nothing wrong with that, except…

Except there was…

"Frank!" Gerard cried desperately, even though Frank was standing directly behind him and would probably have heard him if he'd decided to whisper instead of yell. "I can't find my pencil!"

The older boy hummed a sympathetic, "oh no," to keep High Gerard satisfied, but really he was more focused on taking this time to check out Gee's bedroom. It was pretty basic really: a few posters here and there, a bedside table with a pile of books and a lamp resting on it and about two hundred sketches stuck to the wall with varying degrees of care.

Frank took a couple of steps closer to the wall to examine these sketches further: some were better than others, portraits with every little detail immaculate and in place, whilst others were rough biro drawings that had been hurriedly sketched on the back of a French worksheet and tacked onto the back of Gee's bedroom door. Frank was surprised to see something that looked suspiciously like the tattoo on his neck, and his hand flew up to cover the area.

Turning back around when he heard a pitiful little sigh, Frank saw Gerard had given up the hunt for his pencil - he must have bee not looking for a specific one because Frank saw at least a dozen different pencils scattered around on the floor - and had sunk down to sit with his back pressed up against his bed. His knees were drawn up to his chest and he was resting his chin on them.

"Hey," Frank said gently, coming to sit next to him and wrapping an arm around Gerard's shoulders without really thinking about it or the implications it may have. He rubbed his hand soothingly up and down the boy's back; Gerard stiffened when Frank first touched him, but after a while he could feel the tension drain out of the younger boy and he began to relax into the touch, even leaning into Frank's arm.

They sat like that for a few minutes before Frank giggled a little, breaking the comfortable silence, and said, "So, like… would it be weird if I used your shower? I kinda stink."

Gerard laughed along with him and leaned over to sniff at Frank, wrinkling his nose up in mock disgust when he did. "Eugh!" He joked, pulling back and falling away from the older boy. "You do!" He got up slowly as if it were an arduous task, and beckoned for Frank to join him in the corridor.

"Towels are already in the bathroom." Gerard told him, pointing vaguely in the direction of the bathroom, and Frank was off down the hall before Gee could say another word. He really did stink.

"I won't be long!" Frank promised, before closing the door and starting to strip off his clothes, one by one.

***

Gerard tried to draw, tried to sing, tried to think up new lyrics in his head, but nothing could distract him from the fact that Frank Iero was next door, naked.

He hated that he was imagining it - what Frank would look like with wet hair and water droplets running in rivulets down his chest… - but he couldn't help it. It wasn't his fault that he had a crush on the guy, and when your crush was taking a shower in your bathroom two rooms down from you, wouldn't you imagine it? Was it normal to do that, or was it just Gerard being a freak again?

Really, Gerard had no idea what was going through his mind. He knew for sure he would never pluck up enough courage to do what he did next if he was sober, so he supposed he could blame it on the weed if this all went to shit… but for the moment he was prepared to do it and he was going to take advantage of that willingness whilst it lasted.

Gerard knew Frank wouldn't have locked the door— the latch on the other side of the door was broken anyway so he couldn't have, and that played perfectly into his idea. His terrible, moronic, fucking stupid idea that he should not even be considering, because even thoughhe wasn't exactly sober right now, if this backfired and Frank decided to tell anyone… Gerard would be ruined. Not even Mikey would stand up for him if this went wrong, and Gerard would stand to lose the only friend he had made since he joined the school.

But, all the same, Gerard found himself shuffling across his bedroom floor to the hallway and then on from there to stand outside the bathroom door. He was able to hear, from his creepy, stalker-esque location, the sound of running water hitting the tub; and then there was a change in sound as Frank must have gotten under the water. Gerard was easily able to distinguish between the previous sound and the sound of the water hitting Frank's body… Frank's attractive body… naked body…

Fuck, Gerard was so fucked.

With his heart thudding inside his chest so rapidly that he began to feel nauseous, Gerard twisted the doorknob and pushed gently so as not to attract Frank's attention straight away. Then, after careful consideration, he realised that standing in silence watching a naked Frank take a shower might make him look even more like a pervert than he already must do— he coughed, once and only once, quietly before stepping inside.

Apparently that was all it took because Gerard heard a sharp intake of breath and the shower curtain rippled - why had Frank bothered to pull it across in the first place? Was he expecting this? - revealing Frank's face and top half. The older boy's waist was covered by the translucent blue shower curtain, but Gerard could see enough and blushed at the sight.

Frank looked exactly like Gerard though he would look: hot and wet. His chest was tan with several tattoos of varying colour and size decorating his skin, his hair reached down to just above his shoulders and was pushed back off his forehead to drip water down his neck. Gerard subconsciously licked his lips and wrapped his arms around his chest protectively— although he didn't see what danger Frank posed to him when he was naked and soaking wet in the younger boy's house.

"Gee?" Frank asked, almost as if he didn't believe the shy, nerdy freshman he had been talking to earlier had been able to pluck up the courage to walk in on him showering. Gerard didn't believe it either, and the more he thought about it the more embarrassed he became.

"Frank…" Gerard started and then trailed off. What was there to say? 'Sorry about this, I just wanted to see you naked,' or, 'I have a creepy crush on you and wanted to see what you looked like under all those clothes'? They all amounted to the same thing really: Gerard was a freak, and Frank should get out of there before anything else transpired.

Instead of saying any of that, the younger boy settled on saying, "I've— I've never kissed anybody before."

His voice was so faint, so shy, that he was surprised Frank heard him at all. He could tell he had heard it, however, due to the myriad of expressions flitting past on his face in quick succession. Frank looked confused at first, then shocked, then worried and after that… after that he looked almost pleased.

But no, Gerard told himself, he must have been mistaken. Why would Frank Iero look pleased to learn that Gerard had never kissed anybody?— It was obvious what he was offering, what he was suggesting, and Frank should be repulsed by it. Not pleased.

It all seemed to be going in slow motion: Frank stepping out of the shower, dripping water all over the floor and not even bothering to wrap a towel around his waist for modesty's sake. Walking up to Gerard with a soft smile, his hair hanging in front of his face messily and the tattoos inked into his skin seeming to glisten in the light… he looked magical. To Gerard, he looked beautiful.

Frank stopped when he was only one step away from Gerard, who had to lift his chin to look to other boy in the eyes. Frank reached out a hand and placed it on Gerard's cheek gently and, while it was wet and left the boy feeling chilly, he didn't move to back away. He stood there letting Frank stroke his cheek tenderly until, just when he thought he was going to have to either make the first move or leave the room entirely, the older boy spoke up.

"Are you sure this is okay?"

His words were whispered, his breath ghosting across Gee's face in a tantalising manner so that all he could do was nod dumbly. Without another word, Frank was leaning down so that their lips met.

Gerard's first kiss was with his brother's worst enemy: a naked, heavily tattooed punk who was standing naked in the family bathroom dripping water everywhere and soaking through Gerard's school shirt. It could not have been more perfect.

Frank put a hand on the back of Gerard's head, tangling with his hair to keep him close. Their lips moved in synchronisation, all open mouths and tongues wrapped around each other until Gerard was left breathless and wanting more. Frank pulled away and took a shaky breath in, but before the other had a chance to ask what was wrong he was being pulled back into another kiss. This one was harder, deeper, dirtier, and it left him shaking; he hoped Gerard stayed right where he was, because if Frank moved he would be able to feel his embarrassing arousal through his school trousers and he did not want that to happen.

Eventually they had to break away though, and Gerard took several steps backwards so that he was pressed up against the wall that separated the bathroom from Mikey's bedroom. God.

Looking at everywhere except Frank - because it turned out that Gerard wasn't the only one getting turned on by their kiss - he swallowed, and he didn't have to look in the mirror to know his lips would be swollen and red. He thought he should feel ashamed by what he'd just done but he didn't. He didn't have it in himself to feel guilt and he wasn't going to make the situation any worse by berating himself on his stupid behaviour.

"Was that… okay?" Frank asked, almost sounding insecure. Then Gerard remembered that people like Frank - people like Mikey - didn't get insecure. They were always sure of themselves: cocky and arrogant and selfish. All of them.

"Yeah," Gerard whispered, swallowing the lump in his throat and promptly fleeing the room without a backwards glance.

Notes

I hope things aren't moving too fast… let me know if you think they are!
Enjoy! <3