Summertime (Frerard)

27: Under Your Skin And In Those Clothes

The thing about Gerard Way, was that he was incredibly easy to hate. And the other thing about Gerard Way, was that he was incredibly easy to love.

And the both combined was really quite a predicament.

He was though, unimaginably predictable, and it didn't even take two minutes after I'd stepped over the threshold of the woods until I found myself face to face with the fiery haired smoker, and it was apparent that I was predictable too by the knowing smirk I was instantly met with.

It was irritating of course, but I think just how good he looked countered that out, and despite the fact that was probably the most shallow thing I could have said, it didn't seem to faze me at all. Gerard Way was just unfairly pretty and that was that.

Also, he was of course a massive arsehole. That being taken for granted.

"Nice day at school, Frankie?" He greeted me with a growing smirk, tapping his cigarette ash onto the ground in a manner that would have really bothered me if I wasn't quite so in love with him, unfortunately, I really was and it was slowly tearing both my heart and my morals away from my flash from bone.

"Surprise party." I started with, grabbing his attention immediately with the subject matter, eliminating the possibility of him somehow managing to drag my attention elsewhere with endless flirtations of a certainly sexual nature, because that's how things happened when Gerard Way had some influence towards them.

"'Gerard's idea'." I quoted Mikey, watching as his expression contorted into one of utter irritation - this was amusing, to put it as sadistically as I'd like to.

"Mikey's." Gerard brushed it off, pushing a strand of red hair behind his ear and focusing on the steady flow of nicotine clouds he released from his lips.

"I don't want a party, Gerard." I approached him, leaning against the same tree as him and practically inhaling the very smoke he exhaled, which sounded really fucking bad for me, but in my mind, Gerard was the only good thing that had ever happened to me in what seemed like forever now, so really, you couldn't blame me for wanting to cling to him, even if it was in a mildly creepy manner.

"I want to make you feel special, Frankie, and it's your eighteenth, you're an adult now... you need to celebrate in an adult manner - trust me, there's no pass the parcel involved." He winked at me, leaving to remind myself of the rumours I'd heard as a kid as to what games teenagers played at parties, and more importantly, what teenagers did at parties.

And much to what I assumed would be my younger self's disappointment, I'd never been to one single party throughout the entirety of my teenager years. Perhaps it was best I went to one at the very least, and even if it was my own, and even if I was so sad we just ended up playing pass the parcel.

"I just want to spend the day with you, Gee." I admitted, knowing what I really meant - I wanted to fuck him, I wanted him to fuck me. That really did sound slutty though, so I gave that one a miss, but that in no way affected the truth that lay in the front of my mind.

I didn't want a party - I didn't want friends or presents or even cake, I just wanted to laze around in bed with Gerard, whilst he smokes and I make stupid jokes, and we'll watch stupid eighties movies in the day and get under the covers at night, but nothing is ever quite that perfect, so think perhaps I'll settle for pass the parcel.

"The night you'll be spending with me, don't worry, but I want the day to be special too, so Mikey's finding out who you're actually friends with and we can I don't know... party?" God, he was such a fucking dork, it was unbelievable, especially considering my first impressions of this arsehole, but dorkiness aside, I really wasn't convinced by this at all.