"Ah, fuck. My head is killing me.. "
Frank looked up from his guitar to see Gerard standing in front of him, the palm of his left hand pressed against his forehead.
"There's... Tylenol? Just in the cupboard above the sink." Frank let go of the neck of his guitar to point towards the bathroom.
"Thanks, frank. Do you have work today?" Gerard said as he walked towards the bathroom, his movements slow and lethargic.
Frank didn't answer as he tuned his guitar.
"Cool, good talk."
Frank looked up again.
"Huh?" His voice was raspy.
From crying last night.
"I asked you if you had work and you kept staring at your guitar like it was gonna grow legs and walk away."
"Sorry, I'm a little out of it today."
"You don't say... Anyways, they don't need me in today, so I was wondering if maybe you'd like to go on... I don't know... A date? I'll pay." Gerard said as he shook a pill out into the palm of his hand, quickly downing it with tap water directly from the sink.
Frank was still staring at him.
"A-a date? Like, eating?" His voice was quiet.
"Nope, sledding. Yes, frank. Like eating. Or whatever you want."
Frank looked back down at his guitar.
He'd gotten it when he was 12, for his birthday. He'd thrown a birthday party that year, inviting all the other kids in his grade.
But nobody showed up, except for a scrawny boy named Billie. Billie got him eyeliner pens.
His reasoning was that frank would look cool if he actually tried.
No, Franks dad got him the guitar, taught him the basics.
Got him going, like a father should.
He never got to teach him much though.
The fire took that away from frank, that happy little family that he had.
His hopes and dreams seemed to vanish in that fire just like his parents.
Now he sat, holding his guitar, finding it hard to feel again.
He looked up at the waiting figure standing in the bathroom doorway.
And he slowly nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat as he did so.
"Yeah, I'd like that. Just you and me."
Gerard silently smiled, walking over to frank and sitting in the spot next to him.
"Play me something?" He whispered.
Frank nodded, and began to play one of his favorite song, superstar by the carpenters.
He liked it because the guitar had emotions, ones that he lacked.
The pure, raw emotion that was produced when his fingers and pick connected with the strings, the way the guitar seemed to have control over him, playing frank rather than frank playing it.
And then Gerard began to sing beside him, voice so perfect, like the moon and the stars.
Like being in warm water, floating on waves of sorrow and happiness, sun washing over your face like a blanket of warmth.
Peace.
The power created when Gerard's voice mingled with the guitar, making something truly incredible.
Making music.
Music that frank would never hear again.
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3/5
YOU ARE READING
I Am Poison(Frerard) COMPLETED
FanfictionBeing gay was something gerard had come to terms with. Having a boyfriend was something he had always wished for. But one day, when a boy with tattoos picks him up from his alley, things start to change drastically. Now, he was crushing on this guy...
