frerard oneshots

Sneaking Out

My knuckles were bruised and bloody, I can't believe I had done this shit. Again and again, time and time. I don't know why it happens so often. I'm just some stupid punk kid looking for vengeance.

I was supposed to stay at Gerard's. He'll probably kill me if he notices I'm done. Ugh, god, what he'd do if he knew I'd left? Would he respect that I'd gotten out in the first place, or would he be happy I'm back?

I cant go home, they'd just yell at me all night and be me to leave. But Gerard.. but my parents.. it felt like I was spinning in a circle, making my headache worse. Making the dim street light look fuzzy and dull. It felt like my feet were moving back and forth trying to decide where to go.

No.

I sat down on the sidewalk, trying to regain myself and trying to decide, but it only seemed to make my head throb more. My hands hurt terribly, the open scars stung and were probably going to get infected this time.

I know what would happen. I know. My plan -I'll wait here, two blocks from Gerard's, waiting for him to drive by, looking for me. He'll go out, won't he?

No. He won't. Not this time.

I pulled up my knees, crossing my arms on top of them and resting my head. I sniffled, regretting just what I'd done. Ugh, why am I like this? I hate myself. So much.

But I have to do something this time. I already knew my parents wouldn't come looking for me. And now, Gerard wouldn't be. I stood up, looking down the streets.

Regretting to have not turned to my parents, I walk back to Gerard's at a rushed pace, my breathing getting quicker and air getting more tense with every step. Head pounding, heart throbbing. I just needed to be quiet..

I slowly got in through the front door, using the key under the mat and hearing the soft creak. I slid my shoes off, careful not to step close to anything. I was quiet, but my hands were aching and covered in blue and purple hues.

I shut the door behind me, almost forgetting about it. I started to walk up the stairs until a light turned on in the front room, suddenly illuminating my path. fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! Run up the stairs! Duck! [a/n: ohmygod] Do anything, just something!

But I turned around slowly coming face-to-face with Gerard. His angered expression made me feel more timid and low than my own parents. His disapproval and disappointed faces were worse than theirs -they felt worse. They hurt so much. I didn't feel like a big shot punk, i felt small.

"I-I'm sorry-"

"What do you think you're doing?" He interrupted, arms crossed boldly against his muscular chest. He didn't move, he didn't say anything much at all at these times anyway. His voice stayed the same, he always tried to never raise his voice at me.

I stayed quiet, letting him slowly walk forward. I shoved my hands behind my back and gulped, instantly knowing that was a wrong move by catching the squint of his eyes. He was tired.

"Let me see your hands," he commanded calmly, staring at me. I shook my head slowly and he sighed, grabbing my shoulder as he led me up the stairs. "Go to the bathroom." I didn't complain about the pain in my shoulder, even with his gentleness.

I pulled my hands out, nervously biting at the skin at my fingers, only making my scars stretch and hurt more.

"Stop that," Gerard muttered, pulling my hands down, voice getting more stern. I knew I shouldnt have came back here. He's tired, he doesn't want me here right now. He stood infront of me, grabbing my thighs and hoisting me onto the counter, making small noises excape my mouth. "Not so tough now, are you?" He asked roughly.