The Enigma's Anomaly

This is the Chapter You've Been Waiting For

I'm actually not sure how I ended up standing in front of Gerard's door. I do know that I just spent three hours pacing around a comic book store. I kept glancing at Gerard's comic and I can't even figure out how my feet managed to make it here but here is where I am.

I think what prompted me to come here was getting a phone call from Mikey. That was an hour ago, but I can't stop thinking about what he said.

"Frank, I'm not one to intrude and you have every right to get mad at me or whatever but I think you're being a fucking idiot. Gerard will kill me if he knows I said this, but he's really head over heels for you and you keep ignoring him. It's stupid and it's a bit mean. Now I'm not going to say that you have to like him back, but you're stringing him along on a hook. Just because you don't like him back doesn't mean you should completely remove yourself from his life."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that it doesn't matter if you like him or not, you're being a bitch by walking away."

"You're right. I do have every right to get mad at you," I had answered.

I hung up and then spent another few minutes pacing until I kind of spaced out and now find myself in front of the apartment.

Behind this door is the guy who I want more than anyone else in the world. I just can't do the math as to whether it's worth it. Do I like him enough to actually walk back into his life?

I try to stop myself from knocking, but it's like I'm possessed. I might have just stepped into an episode of Supernatural or something because I'm barely in control of my limbs. My brain is working in overdrive to try and get the signal back but my body ain't listening.

It's around dinner time so I'm probably intruding on his life, but I can't stand this anymore. The waiting is hellish and I'm absolutely abysmal at it.

I'm selfish. I am a selfish idiot with overactive hormones. This is all completely inappropriate, but I can't fucking stay away. I need to see him. He ran away from me earlier today at the coffee shop and I'm still a little worked up over that, but I just need to tell him.

I have to tell him how I feel and if he doesn't want me then that's fine, but I'll at least have my answer. I won't have to deal with the "what if's" because I'm just going to put it out there for the whole world to see.

There's noise behind the door and then it's being pulled open, and the glorious human being, that is Gerard, is standing there. He looks devastatingly beautiful right now. Sweat pants, and a ratty oversized Clash shirt with messy hair.

"Frank?"

I have to speak now. Oh god words. I have trouble remembering any words that have ever been said. I didn't think this through enough. I should've rehearsed something to say.

"I'm sick of this."

"Sick of what?" he asks looking confused.

"I'm sick of this game. This back and forth shit!" I say, "I want to talk about last week."

Gerard looks incredibly surprised by that as do I, because I wasn't even anticipating myself to be so forward.

"I've already forgotten it," he says quickly.

"No, Gerard, that's not what I meant. I mean that, I, shit, um," boy do I have a way with words.

"Frank its fine. I'm sorry for assuming-"

I cut him off the best way I know how. I'm not sure if he's mad at me so I decide not to go for the mouth, but I do kiss him on the cheek, and I hope to god that he understands my message. I have to stand on my tip toes because he's tall, but whatever. It's worth it.

"Frank?" he asks, startled when I go back to my original place a foot away from him. He looks hurt or broken or something which is the exact opposite of what I was hoping for. Does he think I'm teasing him or something? I don't want him to think that.

"You're wrong for thinking that I don't like you," I tell him, and something compels me to grab his hand in my own. He's so lost right now, and I just want him to understand that I like him. There is no way for him to comprehend how I feel about him. The words don't exist. The feelings are incomparable. It just feels so invigorating. Like fuel. My feelings are the fuel for a burning passion inside me that I don't understand.

"You're confusing me Frank," he says shaking his head. He's still so lacking in self-confidence which is disheartening. I wish he could understand how beautiful and amazing I find him. I see him as brighter than the sun, and sweeter then maple syrup. He's like the PJ to my Chris, or the Ianto to my Jack. The Kanye West to my Kanye West? It doesn't matter, I just really like him.

"Ugh, Gerard," I sigh with irritation, "I don't know how to put this any other way. I like you. I really like you. I've wanted to kiss you for like a month, and I just kept myself in fucking denial because I couldn't like you, not with my job, but it's true and I do. I like you so much that I could barely concentrate on writing anything while you were talking to me and-"

He stops me quickly putting his mouth on mine, and I feel my eyes roll up into my head. He's kissing me again. He's actually kissing me, and this time, I'm just not in the position to complain. I wasn't last time either because he's a damn good kisser but I'm not even going to allow myself to consider that eventuality. I'm so fragile and weak to his charm, that it's insane. The things this boy does to me.

I fall limp slightly and I can't handle all the emotions I'm having. Do I feel guilty? Kind of, but I can't care, because holy fuck I'm kissing him. I'm not going to stop it this time, and I never will again. Not for any amount of money in the world.

Now obviously, we are still standing half in the hallway, so he grabs me quickly and closes the door behind him. To be perfectly honest I don't want to do anything besides kiss him. I'm not exactly what you'd call a whore, but I like sex don't get me wrong. That's the last thing on my mind right now with the first being "holy shit" and the second being "holy shit."

There's this annoying thing about being human wherein you have to breathe or else you die, and it gets in the way of all kinds of good stuff. Like deep sea diving, and snogging.

What I mean to say is that we have to take a minor pause so that we don't asphyxiate. Though when you think about it, death by suffocation caused by making out with a hot guy is a pretty good way to go.

"Wow," is all I can muster.

Gerard is looking at me nervously, but it turns out to be gleeful after I say that. He's such a dork. I want to kiss him so much.

"You're not kidding?" he asks.

"Not even close," I respond.

"Oh thank god," He says and he grabs my head to pull me back to him. I feel so fucking good right now. The butterflies in my stomach are blissful. My whole body feels just so warm and it's all because of Gerard. This fucking dork.

I wonder if he'd still like me if he knew what I was. I'm not going to touch that subject with a seventy foot pole. He's here and I'm kissing him and that's all that really matters right now. My occupation can have no place in this relationship.

I honestly believe that this is the best moment of my life. I've never felt this way while kissing someone, but I've never kissed anyone like Gerard. I've never actually liked kissing all that much either because it seems so boring and there are many more things I'd rather do, but this is Gerard. Nothing I know makes sense when I'm with him.

I'm so far past the point of lost, that a map would do me no good, but to be perfectly honest, I don't fucking care. I care about Gerard and I'm done being selfless. This is for me. Kissing Gerard is because I want to. I can restrict myself from ever indulging on things for fun ever again as long as I get this one thing. Just Gerard. I'm done pretending I can't have him because I will never complain again as long as I can cherish this forever. I am so done trying to do the right thing, because if this is wrong then I don't give a flying fuck about the right thing.