But I hope you do enjoy it<3 (there quite long tho....)

Chapter 1.

In a shadowy corner of a shady, smoke filled bar somewhere in New Jersey. I leant on Gerard. My cheek resting on his chest.

Thank God we were at Gingo's, a place where we could be anonymmous and the paparazi were kept outside and unaware of the goings on inside.
I think by now, i was drunk, well no not drunk, i can remember things far too well. I was slightly intoxicated. Gerard wasn't, not since his break down.
'Gerard...' i said into his t-shirt. Breathing in his scent which was proberbly more intoxicating than the all the alcohol i had drunk that night. It was full and heavy, of the smokey smell of the bar, of a deoderant, of something sweet and spicy, of art supplies used by Gerard. It was lethally beautiful. It was Gerard. I inhaled more. Good God...
Gerard's hands massaged my back...he pushed my shoulder blade in so my chest pushed up into him even harder.
'Frank, Frankie,...' he said softly into my hair.
'Yes, Gee.' (man that sounds so like a couple....a straight one)
'We better go...its late..'
'uhu'
I was blissfully unaware of the time, time didn't really matter, but the feeling did.
'Com'on.' Gerard moved away from the wall slowly and gracefully. His arm stayed wrapped around me, i suppose he thought i was so out of my mind from the drink that i couldn't walk. I wasn't. But wanting to feel Gee next to me i didn't complain as he lead me out the back door of Gingo's.
The cold winter air was sharp and stung my throat and lungs as i breathed.
Entangled we stumbbled through the snow. Back appartment in which we and the rest of the boys where residing.
A negative to the frozen, frost-ladden air was the fact it woke me up and made me remember how we had ended up at Gingo's in the first place.
**********************************
I had been desparate. Trapped inside my own head, with no way out. No one i could turn to. But there had been something.
A knife. Gleaming in the light, it lay on the kitchen bench. It was as if i was its intended user.
It called out to me 'Frankie, darling, there's away out of this hell hole, there is. Come on, do it Frankie. It wont hurt a bit.'
I resisted, at least i tried. I turned and began to walk away, but i turned back again all too soon.
The knife, its black handle and metal blade.

The answer.
I walked back to the bench and picked it up by the handle. Running my free hand down the blade with tenderness, but not enough pressure to dig into my skin.
Craddeling the blade with both hands I stumbled back across our extraordinarly messy lounge. There was no fear in being caught by anyone, everyone else was out.
Back in my room i locked the door, just incase the guys came back early, which i must admit they were known for doing.
i walked in a complete haze to my bed. My vision and thinking blurred by the desire for relief.
Finally the pain could stop.
i lay the blade on my bed, as if it were sacred and would break if it was mishandled just the slightest.
With my right hand i rolled up the sleeve of my long sleeved shirt to reveal the tender, begging flesh on my wrist. Picking up the knife, my heart started to pound in my chest, i felt like my rib cage would burst if i held on a second longer.
Without thinking i brang the blade close to my skin, on an angle that could fillet a fish to perfection. With a final beat of my heart against my ribcage i pushed the knife into my skin. Telling myself it wouldn't hurt.
I removed the blade from my wrist, as if delayed by some miracle the blood trickled out a second later.
It ran down the sides of my wrist and dripped on my douvet, making lovely circular red stains.
It felt like my heart had stopped, it felt deathly brilliant. It felt, it felt,......it felt oh so wrong.
I jumped, like i had just come out of a coma. I sprang up. Grabbed a hankie (yes i have hankies...they were a gift from my grandmother) and wrapped it tightly around my wrist. The blood quickly ran through it, staining the white cotton blood red.
Gerard! I thought. I need Gerard, completely unaware of the time i rushed to my door, unlocked it and threw it open with such force it hit the wall with an almighty bang. Making a mental note to check to see if i made a hole in the wall later, i ran down the hall. Praying like mad and like the nuns taught us at school, i hoped Gerard was home. Home and Alone.
'Gerard' i said, bursting into his room.
'Gerard' i spluttered, tears springing to my eyes.
'yea Frankie,' he said not looking up from the sketch book on his knees.
'Gerard,' i spluttered again
Gerard, the slow beast he is, finally looked up. His eyes met mine and then flash down.
'Shit!!' he said. ' Frankie, Frankie,'he cooed moving his sketch pad off his knee and walking over to me.
'What happened?'
He put his arms around me and guided me to his bed.
'i..i..i...knife....' i choked miserably through my tears.
'Hey, hey....sssshhh...frankie. Let me see' Gerard said soothingly. Giving me no choice, he took my wrist and prised my hand off it. Gentley he peeled the hankie off it. Blood flowed even more steadily.
'Right,' he said matter-o-factly, while leaning over to his bedside table and openning the draw. Not taking his hand off my arm, which pulled me on top of him slightly.
He then forced us both up right,obviously having got what he wanted, but i was now sitting on his knee. He didn't seem to mind, least he didn't voice anything.
'Now, it's going to sting, can u be brave?'
I nodded, i didn't mind him babying me.
'Ok, here we go.' He held my wrist thighyl between his thumb and finger. Using an eye dropper skilfully with one hand, he dropped a couple of drops of a mystery liquid along the gash on my wrist.
Fuck it stung. Being brave i only winced.
Gerard then grabbed a clean white fabric bandage and started wrapping it around my wrist. All the while making gentle soothing noises.
He clipped it up with one of those medical clip thingies. Holding my hand now, he added a final touch, a black fingerless glove.

'No one needs to know of this Frank' he said, and nodded towards the fingerless glove.
'Thanks Gee'
'No problem, do you want to talk about it Frank?'

'Uhu.'
'Good, it's best to talk you know,' a shadow crossed Gerard's face as he said this, i knew he was thinking of his own past.

Chapter 2.

Gerard's P.O.V
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'Do you want to talk about it?' I asked Frank, carefully, I didn't want to push him.
He nodded pitifully in response.
'That's good,' I encouraged. After all my problems and experiences with the darker side of my mentality, I knew talking about it was always a good thing.
'I..I..I don't know where to start,' he stuttered.
God, I felt so sorry for Frank. This was completely unexpected and un-Frankish. Frank was the happy one. The playful one. The cheerful one. The energetic one in the band. To see him so, broken and defeated, God it broke my heart. He was like a kid, maybe he still was, he was a fair few years younger than me, but a crying, sniveling kid. I can't imagine Frank cry and sniveling even when he was a kid.
'How about when it started?' I suggested, trying to be helpful.
'The cut w..was only t..today.. '
'I can tell,' I said rocking Frank back and forth as he sat on me. He was kind of heavy, but I decided the fact he was squashing my manly bits with his small tight ass could wait.
'How about when it started in here,' I said, tapping his chest in the place I thought his heart was.
'I can't remeb..' He said his voice trailing off.
'That's okay,' I soothed.
For awhile we just sat there. Tears sprung up at random intervals in Frank's eyes. More than once I had to turn my head so Frank wouldn't see my own eyes bristling with tears from seeing Frank somewhere in his life that he shouldn't be.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity or sorrow, Frank removed himself from my knee and unwound his legs. My manly bits thanked him so much at this stage, him moving was such a relief, though I now really needed to pee and maybe massage my manly bits.
Frank walked over to the large window and pulled back the jet black curtains I had installed for privacy and to keep the Sun at bay. As the light hit the bed I whimpered to myself, though felt that I wasn't the time to make a big melodrama out of Frank opening the curtains. Outside the day was grey. The winter snow still clung to Jersey. Frank's face was reflected on the glass with beautiful detail. I wished I could have drawn him, but it wasn't fair to exploit him like that.

Chapter 3.

Ray's P.O.V
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I stumbled up the stairs to our apartment. Mikey and Bob close behind me. We had just finished talking to some people about our band and stuff on an online interview. Gerard, had ditched us about two minutes before we had to go on saying,
'I can't do it again, you guys handle it.'
I can't say I entire blame him for ditching us, he was the one that got bombarded with questions. This was a good opportunity for Mikey, Bob and I to take over for a while.
What the hell Frank was doing was a mystery. He had yelled through his bedroom door something about feeling sick and not being up to it. Funny that, because I didn't remember him drinking anything last night. Nevermind.
Swaggering joyfully we managed the rest of the stairs and burst into the shared apartment.
'Were home!!' hollered Mikey.
No response.
'Gerard!! Gerard!!!' Mikey yelled even louder. We were so going to get complaints about noise with this kid.
Still no response.
'Gerard, my beautiful big brother, where the fuck are you?!' Mikey almost made the building collapse with that one, not to mention deafen both Bob and I who were right next to him. Maybe he should have been the lead singer, he's got one set of lungs on him.
A strange murmur came from Gerards room. Mikey stomped off towards it after the first barely audible mur. Bob and I trailed behind pretty swiftly, but we couldn't compete with brotherly love.
Mikey flung open the door and it hit the wall with an almighty crash. Good God this kid should be stopped. Strangely there was no roaring insult thrown at Mikey from Gerard about slamming to door and possibly adding another massive hole in the wall.
Walking into the bedroom, I smacked into Bob's back. I wasn't expecting him to stop.
'Give'I trailed off, rubbing my nose which had been slammed beautifully into Bob's blonde haired head. Something wasn't right.
Maneuvering around both Bob and Mikey, I stopped and starred at what they were staring at.
Gerard, sitting tensely on his bed, his sketch pad carelessly lying next to him and his pen leaking ink all over the place, but I dont think he noticed. He was starring, eyes tinted with grave sadness, at the window, which most unusually wasn't covered by heavy dark curtains. Looking towards the window, I saw Frank. Stooped and hunched. Which made him look even smaller than the little fella was. It didn't take me a second glance to realise something was up.
Sensing maybe the doom and gloom show may want to be left alone, I voiced that fact that I was starving and I thought that my throat had been cut off because my stomach wasn't getting anything. Bob took the not so subtle hint a fled the room. Mikey, the poor thick soul, had to be almost dragged out of the room and still put up a rather loud and childish protest.

Chapter 4.

Franks P.O.V
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Thank God for Ray. The dude can be really insensitive, but this was one time when he got things right for a change. Well I think he did, or his stomach did, either way I wasn't prepared to face to other guys. Talking to Gerard was going to be tough enough as it was.
When Bob, Ray and Mikey had left the room, I turned back to Gerard.
'Do you want to get out of here? Go for a walk or something?' he asked. Obviously he was thinking the same thing as me, the others, Mikey especially, wouldn't hesitate to listen at the door.
I nodded, afraid I would choke on my own voice.
'Ok,' Gerard got up off his bed, looked in annoyance at an ink pen that had made a really big mess on his bed, shoved the cap back on it and tossed it on the floor where the cap promptly feel off again. Instead of picking it up he glared at it and left it there. He grabbed a heavy black coat and a striped black and red scarf which he draped casually over his shoulder. Gerard then ushered me out of my room down the hallway to my bedroom. Noticing my inability to do anything much he rummaged through my closet, finding a black bomber jacket and a beanie which he shoved over and on my head respectively. As he did so I wondered, subconsciously about what I looked like.
'Come on.'
I allowed Gerard to guide me out of the apartment, all the while the others where munching on something, which wasn't unusual. He led me down the stairs carefully, but not overly slowly.
Outside the cruel cold air stung my checks and Gerard's went a rosy red colour.
We began a brisk walk, as much as the snow would allow us.
When we were far from our apartment, Gerard turned to me.
'Frank, I want to know what's going on. I'm sorry to sound demanding, but it's for your own good.'
'Mhm, it's okay.'
'Well'I knew it was my turn to do the talking. 'I don't know what it is exactly, it's everything. All the small things.'
'Insecurities?'
'Some of it.' I said. 'Have you noticed I keep messing up on stage?'
'No, your great up their Frank. Wed be lost without you, not to mention an extremely dull performance.'
'No, I keep making mistakes. I shouldn't be, it's not professional, its..its...'
'Woah woah woah... Frankie... We all make mistakes.'
'I know, I just, I just love being a part of all this, the band, with you guys. I don't want you to do what you did to Matt. I dont want to let you down'
Gerard Grimaced at the name.
'We won't Frankie, we would never. Don't worry when your on stage, forget about stuffing up. Just get into it. And Frankie, you've never let us down'
I nodded, choking back tears of love for this man. His sweet words removed a heavy weight from my heart.
'I take it, this isn't the only thing bothering you.'
'Its not.'
'Are you, are you able to talk to me?'
I nodded, 'I think so.'
He looked at me, and I took it as my cue to start talking.
'My girlfriend, she dumped me.'
'When?'
'A few weeks ago.'
'Why didn't you tell us?'
'Embarrassed,' I muttered, looking away. 'And I was afraid, my cover was blown.'
'Cover?' Gerard looked totally confused, I had suddenly gone superhero on him and was talking about my cover.
'Gee, Gerard, I'm not normal.'
'No one's normal Frank.'
'Not like that, like that,' I said glancing downwards.
'I still don't get you.' He said slowly.
Didn't get it!!! Didn't he notice my look at my?? God he was a thick ass! Gosh all this hesitation was starting my personal water company back up.
Gerard obviously noticed the sparkling tears well up in my eyes, and one or two dribble silently down my cheeks. He moved closer to me. Making the tears run faster and harder.
'Frankie, what is it? Did I say something?'
I shook my head.
'No,' I squeaked pathetically. God, why could you just not kill me now?? Take me to heaven, I did all my catholic boy stuff, I even learnt to tie a tie. On second thoughts hell was looking good too right now.
'Frank, you know you can tell me anything, don't you? I'm not here to play God and judge you.'
At that moment I trusted Gerard more than I trusted anyone else, ever. Though for some reason I wasn't prepared to trust him with my life. His eyes looked open (not only in the sense they were open because he was awake and starring at my face which was a little creepy to be honest.) and honest, they beckoned me to tell him. Tell him the secret I had been harboring since me since just before I had joined My Chemical Romance.
Shaking, sobbing now uncontrollably, choking on my own breathes, I decided, there was a reason I had turned to Gerard. Because I could trust him, because I loved him. I also decided that I had to tell him now; I couldn't go around living a lie, it would, as had been proven today, kill me.
'Ger-' I began.
'Don't worry Frankie, you don't need to tell me,' Gerard interrupted without noticing I had spoken. 'You want a drink?'
He gestured towards a bar. I hadn't even noticed we were outside it. It was Gingo's. Despite the fact we were a far from our apartment, it was almost our local. Mainly because we knew that the press would be kept out, people inside would hold there tongues and we would get the chance to live slightly normally for the time being.
I sighed internally and followed Gerard through the door. Inside we ditched our coats, scarves and hats on an old wooden coat stand and made a beeline for the bar.
'What will it be boys?' the ancient bar tender growled.
'A water over here, please and for Frank...what will you have Frank?' Gerard asked confidently
'Something strong, very strong,' I murmured.
'Ok laddies,' the man said turning away a fixing Gerard a glass of water.
'Thanks,' Gerard said accepting the glass. The man turned away again.
'And for the little one,' he said turning back with what looked like spirit of some description.
'Thank you,' I said taking the glass of blood red liquid out of his hand. I certainly hoped it wasn't blood.
We moved over to table and pair of chairs. It felt good to sit down in the comfy chairs, I sunk into mine a fair way and wondered why I couldn't disappear into this cozy chair forever and leave this world behind.
I took a large swig of my drink. It hit me hard. Like a bomb had exploded inside my head. I wanted to scream as it erased everything inside my head. I felt dizzy. Gerard offered me some water. I took it gratefully, that stuff was horribly strong.
The water cleared my head, though the alcohol, if u could call it that, still kept all thoughts out of my head.
'Thanks,' I said. Was my voice slurred? Probably. One sip, that really was strong.
'You alright?' asked Gerard taking a large gulp of water, a bead of sweat glistening on his forehead. It was really hot in here.
'Uh huh, brilliant,' I said, with a sarcastic, wry smile.
'Ah, that, concoction didn't completely blow your brains out?'
'My brains it blew out, my heart it didnt touch.'
'So this is about you girl-I mean ex-girlfriend?' he asked, Gerard could never leave something alone.
I shook my head, 'not really.' I glanced downwards, meeting Gerard's eyes as I did so.
'Oooo...you have problems down there?' Gerard looked sympathetic and maybe grossed out, I'm not sure
'What?'
'You have, um...fertility problems...it's not uncommon. It's nothing to be ashamed about.'
'No,' I gasped slightly exasperated and mortally embarrassed as some heads turned at the word fertility. I could have murdered Gerard at that moment.
'Is it, is it aids?' he asked lowering his voice.
'No!! No it's not aids' I almost yelled, more people looked at us.
'Ok then I don't know what the problem is,' sighed Gerard.
'Gerard, look at me,' I demanded. He looked at me, right into my eyes again with his own beautiful chocolaty brown eyes.
'Gerard, I'm,' I said shakily. 'Gay.'
I thought I would be swept with a wave of relief, but no, just intense fear of how Gerard would react.
'Frankie!' He said moving around the table between us. 'Is that all?'
'Yes.'
Gerard was taking this well.
'Frankie, why didn't you tell us?'
I mumbled something into Gerard's glass of water.
'Oh Frank, you great peabrained moose! Why would we judge you?' he exclaimed bending over and hugging me.
I felt violently stupid that I hadn't told the guys before. With pure relief taking hold I grabbed what ever that red stuff was and chucked the rest of it down my throat as I stood up to hug Gerard. The alcohol hit my coordination fast and after going up I felt myself going quickly downwards. Gerard caught me.
'Woa, woa, woa Frankie easy on what ever that stuff is,' he said hooking his arm around my waist and guiding me through the tables and chairs. He leant up against the wall and let me slump on top of him.
'Frankie,' he whispered.
'Yea Gee,' I said, my tongue thick and heavy in my mouth.
'I'm so glad you're gay.' He whispered with his mouth so close to my ear that his tongue touched my ear and hot breath filtered into my brain.
'Your what?!' all that alcohol suddenly dulled down.
'I'm happy, I'm relieved even.'
'Huh?'
'Frankie, ever wondered why I don't have a girlfriend?'
'No.' though now I came to think about it, I never remember Gerard having a girlfriend.
'Well I had one, once, a long time ago. We were really close, like she had known me forever, we had even been friends before we went out. We were engaged, we even lived together. It was serious. We, we were about to get married...'
I felt something wet on the back of my head, I realized it was tears. Gerard, Gerard was crying.
'What happened?' I asked cautiously.
'Then, one day, she caught me.'
'Caught you?'
'Caught me. Caught me cheating on her, she wasnt supposed to find out. Though it was probably for the better, but she got really, really upset. It broke my heart to know she was hurt and it was a big guilt trip knowing I had caused all her pain. I think it upset her more because, because it was with Matt.'
'Matt?!'
'Matt. After that well I decided, I had lost my sense of being attracted to her and to girls in general. I decided that well it couldn't hurt people pretending to be something I wasn't, but I wasn't prepared to be open with it either. It killed me inside, until I told Mikey. To this day he and Matt are the only ones who know about me, being, um, gay.'
'What happened to Matt?'
'Things went sour between us, especially since he had start being a really rough man and being nasty, and threatening to tell people about me being gay. I told Mikey, and in the same period you and Ray came over and said that he had noticeably mucking up our songs on stage. I hadn't noticed because I was a bit preoccupied, but I saw it as a good opportunity, and at the next concert I noticed so many mistakes that it was definite. When he left, he again threatened to tell the media and anyone who would listen about my sexuality, Mikey threatened him back and in ways paid him off so to speak.'
'I see,' I mused.
'And Frank, I'm glad, because I love you.'
'What!?!' Where my wildest dreams coming true? I hoped so and prayed quickly that this wasn't a dream.
'It's embarrassing really, but Ive had a superstar sized crush on you for so long.'
'Really?'
'Yea.'
'Why didn't you tell me?'
'Because I didn't know if you were gay or not, I didn't want to make you gay and I was afraid you would reject me,' he said looking away.
'Oooo...'
'But...'
He bent down and took my face in his hands. He leaned towards him and I leaned towards him. We kissed. O it was the best feeling, it was so Gerard, with smooth warm lips. His hands, that were rough in places from where the hours of holding pencils and pens had worn the skin down, found their way down the length of my torso, they finger the ends of my un-tucked shirt and snaked up my body, massaging my skin with his hands that felt like they knew where they were going all on their own. Gerard's lips still remained locked on mine, I was vaguely aware that I was find breathing a difficulty, but I didn't care. This was my first kiss from Gerard, the one and only, lovely Gerard, the one who loved me back. Come to think of it, it was my first kiss. Going to a catholic school and then being so involved in two bands since I left school, I hadn't had much time for the romantic and intimate relationships someone my age should have had a long time ago. My girlfriend and I, well that had been a disaster from the being, what with my career taking me all over the show, it was never going to eventuate, she couldn't take it, admittedly it was my fault, the break up, using her for personal gain and not giving her any proper care or attention. There was phone calls occasionally, e-mails too, even a letter once in a while, I would always shower her in gifts when we hit New Jersey or she came out to visit us. These facts didn't make me any less guilty, I had done what Gerard had, though I was worse. I knew what I was doing. Shoving the past out of my head I returned my thoughts to Gerard and his passionate embrace of body and lips. What I was doing felt wrong, wrong in the sense it was everything I was taught not to be and not to do. It was everything school had told me was sick and wrong, everything the church had preached not to do, everything the prejudice frowned on. My conscious, which had been built by all these things along with media and parental views on such issues, screamed at me. 'Frank, don't. Stop it Frank you know it's wrong. Frank this isn't looking good for your future.' The last, reminded me of my dad, the first time he saw my tattoo. A scorpion high enough up on my neck, that I would never be able to get a normal job and become a suit and tie. It was put there purposely. My dad had yelled so loud at me I thought that my head would explode, it had scared me. He was so mad, though nowadays I understood why. In reality, I should never have made it this far and never have been a success, his concern was I would be a bum for the rest of my life and never get anywhere. It was really thanks to Gerard I had made it, he had decided he couldn't sing and play the guitar, he also said he couldn't play it as well as I could, so when my old band broke up I was invited into an incredible band of brothers. Despite what my conscious was screaming at my inside my head, I kissed Gerard back. I found his body buried under a sweater and collared shirt, my hands shook as my blood raced through them. I spent time exploring Gerard's chest. It was broad, muscular, with velvety soft skin that was stretched tightly over his frame. I imagined it to be creamy coloured with a minimal natural tan tint. His Italian heritage had to count for more than we saw, but then again his face was white though, even without the ghostly make up he wore on stage. Maybe his skin would just be creamy.
Without realizing it, I pushed Gerard back against the wall. I hoped it wasn't too rough against his skin as it was an unfinished brick wall. My hands having studied Gerard's front moved on to his back. Starting below his neck, I dug my hands deeply into the warm flesh in-between his shoulder blades and moved my hands slowly down his back. He arched it as I did so. Reaching his lower back, just above the beginning of his buttocks, I removed my hands from the waistband of his jeans and ran them around and up to his naval. Gerard moved slightly, obviously uncomfortable, with my hands against his stomach I leaned my head on his chest

Chapter 5

Gerard P.O.V
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I decided I had better get Frank home, it was enough for tonight, no matter how much I enjoyed letting my fingers explore him and his explore me. I whispered to Frank about leaving and ushered him out the back door of Gingo's. I'm fairly certain Frank wasn't blasted out of his brains, despite the strength horrible red nectar he had drunk, I knew he could have walked, I kept my arm around him, as a comforter, and because I wanted to stay with him. We walked to the end of the alley which Gingo's back door had opened up on too. Through lightly falling snow, past some trash cans, dumpsters and old squashed boxes. Familiar things from where we lived. I hailed down one of the aimlessly circling taxis and bundled Frank in, before sliding onto the worn seat next to him. The ride didn't take long, but Frank found the time to rest his emotionally drained head on my shouldered.
Outside our apartment block I paid the driver and hauled a dozy Frank out, before the driver sped off crazily along the road. I could see the faint glow of lights on in our apartment. Frank stumbled inside with me and we decided on taking the elevator, no use us risking breaking all the bones in our body trudging wearily up flights of stairs and falling back down again. The elevator didn't smell particularly nice, but we were tired enough not to care. Stepping out of the elevator I unlocked the door and crept silently inside, aware some people may have already hit the sacks for tonight.
I lead Frank down the hall, and open his bedroom door. Getting him on his bed was then the easy part. I flicked the bedside lamp on so I could at least see what I was dealing with. Frank, was what I was dealing with. Him and his messy room, which reminded me of mine. Only Frank was, semi conscious, despite my theory that he wasn't really completely intoxicated, he was just shattered. Emotionally drained and tired, poor kid.
Well I decide he couldn't sleep in what he was wearing on top of the bedcovers. Damn.
I managed, to slide my hands under his back and get him to sit upright long enough for me to pull the sweeter and shirt off him. His naked chest looked gorgeous, like desert sands. Ok Gerard not now, not now. Taking control of my testosterone I rummaged around Frank's room in search of pajamas. It didn't occur to me that maybe he didn't sleep in pajamas but it was always cold in the winters in New Jersey I just presumed everyone did. God where were they? I must have thumped about a bit shoving piles of junk out of my way in search for the pajamas. I even starting making piles of stuff so that I didn't keep running across the same items. Eventually I came over a pajama top with superman on it. This would have to do despite the fact the bottoms were presumably buried under this pile of crap, least I thought, in my room I know where things are. I waded through junk to Frank's bed, knelt on it, thrust Frank upwards and shoved the shirt over his shoulders while he, in his semi conscious state helped me by putting one arm through the wrong sleeve. I hated him right now. I straddled my legs over his, prayed no one choose this moment to walk in and that Frank remained semi conscious. I managed to remove his left arm from the right sleeve and stuff it into the left sleeve, and locate his right arm in force it in the right sleeve while preventing myself from sitting on Frank's legs.
Un-straddling myself I wondered what to do about the skinny jeans Frank was wearing. Should I remove them and find the superman pajama bottoms? Or would Frank be embarrassed? (not to mention me being embarrassed). Our should I leave him? Where skinny jeans comfy to sleep in? I didn't think they would be seeing they squeezed all the wrong places when you wore them awake. It would help if I new if Frank was wearing boxers or undies (or neither, gross.) I mean I would do it if he was wearing boxers because then neither of us had to feel uncomfortable when we woke up in the morning and Frank wouldn't be so revealed to me. I decided if it had been undies or nothing I would leave him because I didn't want to see or touch anything and well I didn't want Frank to think that I was some pervert. But how could I find out? I couldn't figure out away to find out whether Frank wore boxers or undies (or nothing) with his skinny jeans without things getting akward, and I also couldn't find the superman pajamas, so I decided Frank could sleep in the skinny jeans that made his ass look so hot and so tight.
Then I moved on to shoes. I undid the laces on Frank's chucks, pulled the chucks off and chucked them in a corner. God then there was socks. Gross, but no one liked wearing socks to bed, despite the freezing weather. So I grabbed them by the toes and tried to whip them off. Needless to say I was unsuccessful. So I just removed as easy as possible and almost vomited and screamed at the same time when I realized I had both socks in my hands. They were thrown unceremoniously into the corner. Gross. Frank you better love me I thought. Then came the challenge of getting Frank under the bed sheets, which he was lying on. Thinking about things I decided I had to move Frank. I rolled the uncooperative git on to his stomach, which didn't help matters; just probably meant Frank was going to stop breathing. Brilliant. Ok I then rolled Frank around and up so he was on the pillows. Praying (that which I seem to be doing an usually large amount of tonight) that Frank didn't know how to make I very good bed I yanked at the duvet and sheets and almost ended up in a pile on the floor. After rolling Frank around and into the centre bed so he looked like a normal person would in bed I covered him in sheets and blankets and tucked him in nicely. Phew what a job. I feel sorry for mothers, though most kids don't weigh as much as Frank does.
I sat down on the edge of the bed, stroking his hair. Deciding that I too needed to get to bed, I stroked Frank's hair one last time. Kissed his forehead lightly and removed myself from his room. I closed the door and moved into the open plan living, dinning and kitchen area. The light had been turned off. Without turning the light on I flopped on the couch.
'You okay?'
'Fuck.' I almost died right there on the couch.
A lamp was flicked on. Mikey sat, arms folded, in an armchair.
'Thanks for almost killing me.'
'Sorry.'
'You're lucky I didn't want to sit on the armchair.'
'I know.'
For awhile neither of us spoke. I knew Mikey wanted to know what was up with Frank, I was fairly certain that he wouldn't have missed a few stray blood splatters on in the hall. I wasn't going to tell him though. This was Frank's business. Finally he broke the silence.
'Are you okay?'
'Yes, just tired.'
'Is Frank okay?'
'I think so.'
'What was wrong with him?'
'That's for him to tell you.'
'Gerard, I care about Frank, you can tell me.'
'I know you do, but I can't tell you. And don't bug Frank about it, okay?'
'Okay.'
We sat there in silence again. I was starring at the ceiling. Wondering if could do an epic painting on it.
'Well I'm going to bed,' said Mikey flicking off the lamp and leaving me alone.
Sitting there a moment longer I decided there was no point me staying up. I stumbled into the kitchen, cursed Mikey for turning off the lamp and grabbed a glass of water. I then proceeded to go to bed.

Charpter 6.

I woke up in the morning. Clear in my head about what I had to do. I changed out of my pajamas and into faded blue jeans and a t-shirt. I tided my hair which was greasy and dying for a wash. I could hear Mikey, Bob and Ray rummaging around the kitchen. Frank's door was firmly closed, just like I left it last night. Hoping I would go unnoticed I open Frank's door and slipped in. Frank was lying on his stomach, his head turned to the side. I walked over and sat on the bed. Starring at the wall I began to talk.
"Frank, I don't know what you are going to do, I don't know what you want to do, but I'm going to come clean with the guys. I recommend you tell them because it doesn't get any better if you don't."
"Gerard.." Frank's voice was a paper thin whine.
"Nothing you say is going to stop me telling them about me, I'm not going to say anything about you."
I continued to star fixatedly at a singular spot on the wall. A quiet sound, somewhere between a moan and a sob came from some where next to me. I turned to Frank, tears streamed down his face, his shoulders shook.
"Gerard."
"There's nothing I can do for you Frank. I'll keep your secret but I can't do anything else."
Frank sobbed.
I walked away. I knew this was for his own good.
Deciding I'm hungry I walked into the kitchen. Silence fell over everyone when I came in.
After fixing myself some cereal I sat down at the table.
I felt like everyone was staring at me.
"Guys," I cleared my voice. "I have something I need to say."
Bob looked at me, with an un-bobish understanding," Go ahead."
"UmwellI'm gay."
More silence.
"Well"
"I'm not surprised."
"Neither."
"I already knew."
"So you're okay with it?" I asked, letting out the breath I had subconsciously been holding in.
"Of course!" Ray and Bob said in union. Mikey didn't need to say anything I knew he was okay with it. Bob moved around the table a hugged me. Which is even more un-bobish than him being understanding.
"Gerard, it doesn't matter what you do, or what you choose to do, your still the same great guy to us."
"It's good to know that."
"It's true Gerard."

"Snap!" yelled Mikey. Bob cursed and slapped his hand.
"Would you two shut up!" Ray yelled back. "I'm trying to watch T.V."
Bob and Mikey giggled childishly.
I sighed. This was typical.
Frank shuffled into the room. His eyes were red and puffy. His lips were swollen. He looked like he had been in a fight. He hadn't, unnless you considered the one with himself.
He shuffled over to the couch, his head hanging. He didn't meet anyone's eyes.
Ray, Bob and Mikey exchanged worried glances.
Ray got up and went into the kitchen. He returned moments later, coffee in one hand, a glass off water and aspirin in the other.
Frank was curled up in a ball. Ray put the glasses and aspirin on table and eased Frank into an upright position. Frank moaned.
"It's okay Frank," Ray soothed.
Frank moaned. His head lolled back against the couch.
"FrankieheyFrankie," cooed Ray slipping his arm around Frank's waist a making him sit up.'
Bob moved on to the ottoman and looked Frank in the face.
"What's the matter?"
Frank murmured something which no one was able to comprehend.
"Here Frank, it's coffee." Ray placed the mug in Frank's hands.
Frank sat unmoving, with the coffee clasped between his hands. Ray took the coffee out of his hands and raised it to Frank's lips.

"Come on Frank." He tipped the coffee mug up so that the liquid sloshed against Frank's lips. Frank open them a small way, and took a small sip of the coffee. This satisfied Ray enough so he put the mug on the ottoman.
"Frankie, you have to tell is what's wrong."
"I'm okay," Frank lied.
"Frank its plain to see you're not okay."
"I'm fine." Frank's voice was thin and jumpy.
"Don't lie to us Frank," said Bob, his baby blue eyes starring into Frank's eyes.
"Frank, it's okay. You need to tell us, what ever it is, it will be okay."
"It's not okay." Frank's voice was barely audible. He slumped over again.
Bob got off the ottoman, propped up him up and put his arm around Frank's shoulders.
"Look Frank, I don't want to be mean, but you have to tell us. For your own good. Were all friends here. What ever it is it's okay with us but when just have to know," said Bob firmly.
No one said anything after that. The silence was eerie. It took me a while to notice Frank crying. Not loudly, just gentle tears that rolled down his cheeks.
"Hey, Frankie, I'm sorry," Bob said shocked at Frank's tears. "I well we, we all care about you."
"Yea, we're worried about you."
"I'm okay." Frank said, his voice gaining stability. "I'm fine." He got up and walked away. A few seconds later I heard his bedroom door shut. The other three exchanged worried glances and then looked at me.
"Gerard" Mikey began.
"No," I said cutting him off. "Leave him alone."
Everyone seemed to take this as an ending, Mikey packed up the cards he and Bob had strewn all over the place in a duel effort and Bob and Ray went to their rooms.
"Gerard."

"Look, Mikey, lay off okay?"
"Okay."
I left Mikey in the lounge and went to get ready for rehearsal.

Chapter 7

Frank's P.O.V
I felt giddy and sick. I stumbled to my room and fell on to my bed. Why couldn't I tell them? I told Gerard and I would have to tell the others sometime soon. I heard everyone get ready for rehearsal and leave. I should have gone with them, but I couldn't face them.
As time ticked slowly by, I lay in the dark. Knowing I had to tell them sometime. I pictured telling them, looks of shock and disgust on their faces, imagining what they might say or do. Would they tell my parents? Would they tell the media? The very thought made me sick to my stomach.
Two hours later I stood outside the rehearsal studio. Cars whipped past me and snow fell gentley. Stores were lit up with Christmas lights and I knew I was a glum and miserable face in a sea of happiness and joy. I looked up to where I knew the band was practicing and took a deep breathe. It was now or never and I was scared shitless. I entered the building, thankful for the heating which thawed out my frozen body. Procrastinating, I almost took the stairs to delay things, but took the elevator instead. Knowing I had to do this now. The journey in the lift seemed to take a life time, I was surprised to find myself shaking in fear. I walked along the dingy corridor, vacant of life, carpet and paint. As I neared the end I heard the sound of Bob thrashing his drum kit, the deep hum of Mikey's bass and the intricate fingers of Ray working hard with the metal cords of his guitar. Gerard's voice was loud, but not clear. Raspy and desperate, but refined more than it had even been before. How I loved that voice which was strong, and made me feel safe, it was a comforting sound that matched the lyrics wholly.
When I walked into the room every stopped playing, except Bob, who for some insane and unknown reason had his eyes closed and was attempting to murder his drum kit with his sticks. When he didn't stop Ray walked over to him, pulled the sticks out of his hands and whacked him over the head with them.
"Oi, what was that "
Seeing me Bob, stopped.
Silence hung heavily in the air.
"Glad you could make it Frankie," said Mikey, breaking the silence.
I looked at Gerard his face didn't give away anything. However, I knew what he wanted me to do. I cleared my throat, more nervous than when I was on stage for the first time all those years ago, more nervous than I had ever been anywhere. Period.
"Er g-g-gu-guys." I stuttered, almost saying gays instead of guys. "I-have-somethingIneed to say"

All eyes were on me, the intensity burned. God why did you make me gay? It would be heaps easier as a heterosexual person. I thought I would be crushed by the pressure that I could feel, God, if you have any love for me you will not let this pressure make me any shorter.
"Um" I coughed noticeably and was surprised to the find someone's arms around me.
"It's okay Frank," Gerard whispered in my ear. "I'm here. You can do this."
Hearing Gerard say that made me feel a million time better, better, not good, but better. When he dropped his arms from around me I thought I would die from exposure.
"You were saying Frank?" Gerard said in a smooth tone from over by the mic stand.
He could not have moved that fast, he was just by me. I shook myself, man I must be more rattled than I had ever given my mentally weak self credit for. Damn Gerard, now everyone was expecting me to say something, they might have forgotten had Gerard piped up. It was a cunning plan. Taking a breathe, I new that it was too late to back out now.
"I'm Gay."


what can i say...he had to say it sometime.