Glassy ⇝ Frerard | Incomplete, vvv slow updates

And I go crazy, 'cos here isn't where I wanna be

TW: Blood?  (And I put the bitmoji ironically don't hurt me) ALSO if you don't think this was necessarily accurate, it probably isn't.... cos it's fanfiction I wrote at 16

Gerard's really afraid he's gonna break the window. It's not like he had a hard throw anyways.

It's later that night when Gerard hops over his backyard fence onto Frank's property, hiking up his pajama pants (which were pulled down during his acrobatic trick) and wiping the bristles off his French Connection grey crew neck, running towards the house. He positions himself under Frank's window and picks up a pebble from out of the garden and tosses it upwards. It makes a small sound and bounces off. He tries again. It parallels the first throw. He grumbles to himself as he picks up a rock that's a bit bigger this time and tosses it up.

As it flies through the air, Frank opens his window. It's half a second before impact where his face converts from confused to terrified. The rock hits him on the left side of his forehead and knocks him back off his feet with a yelp.

This is what he gets for trying to be romantic.

"Fuck!" Gerard exclaims, immediately starting to sweat. He sprints out of the backyard and around to the front porch. He pushes on the front door, but it doesn't budge. "Shit!"

He bangs on the door frantically, in fear that Frank could be dying in his room and nobody would notice.

The sixteen year old throws the door open, immediately putting a bloody finger over his lips. "Do not wake my parents."

Gerard watches as blood drips from the middle of Frank's forehead, down his nose and onto his white shirt. The wound itself looks shiny and wide and Gerard feels himself blanch.

"Fuck Frankie, I'm so fucking sorry, oh my god." He feels tears come to his eyes as he launches himself forward to engulf the boy in a hug. Frank stiffens but soon relaxes against Gerard's touch.

The seventeen year old pulls back. "Let me have a look at it." Gerard cups the boy's chin in his hand and looks at the cut from different angles. "Does it hurt?"

Frank blushes and smiles a bit. "A ton."

"Fucking hell, Frankie. I'm so sorry. I think you might need stitches."

Frank suddenly looks terrified, biting the edge of his thumb. "My parents can't know."

Gerard thinks for a second. "Okay, well you're gonna need stitches, probably, and make sure you don't have a concussion. I'll grab some towels or something. You wait on the porch."

Frank nods, looks at the blood on his hand from touches his face and stumbles to sit down.

Gerard runs into the house to find anything they can compress Frank's cut with. He first checks the kitchen, where he can only find the paper towel. He runs as quickly (and as quietly) as he can into the main floor washroom where he finds fluffy, white hand towels. He grabs a couple and runs out of the house. He closes the door with a louder shut than he wanted to.

He finds Frank slumped against the side of the house. "Are you okay?" Gerard asks, concern laced in his voice.

"Yeah, just-just a bit dizzy." He mumbles, smiling up at Gerard but his blood drips into his teeth.

"Shit, okay, hold on." Frank looks green and splotchy and bloody. "I'm calling 911."

"No!" The outburst is weak. "My-my parents. Don't."

Fuck, fuck, fuck! Gerard doesn't know what to do. He looks around like a lost puppy and it's not until Frank falls onto his side, almost face down on the concrete of the porch does he scoop the smaller boy up in his arms and jogs towards his car.