Follow me home (Frerard)

I've become attached to where I fell, I saved my breakdowns just for you

Gerard's POV

It feels like fire on my skin, sparks flicking and igniting into flames deep in my veins and rolling in waves with my blood. The shock of his mouth on mine is enticing and mesmerizing, so different from the kiss with Zacky, and my mind just shuts down. I can't breathe, I can't kiss back, I can't move. All I can think is 'holy fucking shit, Frank is kissing me.' The guy who's been screwing with my head and making me crazy is actually here, he's standing right in front of me, and he's kissing me. But at the back of my mind, an itch that seems to keep growing, is something else; This is also the guy who almost forced me back into relapse. He's like a drug for me, addicting and dangerous at the same time.

It's not until after the song ends that I feel him again. He thanks the crowd and then I feel the familiar sparks on my skin tingling when he wraps a hand around my wrist and leads me away. I've realized by now that I was onstage with him, and became grateful quickly for the blindfold so I couldn't see just how many people had been watching me. And when we're offstage, I don't feel so ready for the blindfold to come off. I don't know what my reaction to actually seeing Frank's face will be, whether jumping his bones and fucking him right here, or kicking him in the balls so hard he can't see.

It's quiet. There's a pounding in my ears, the same post-concert beating as always, but this time accompanied with the echoing thrum of my heartbeat and the rush of my blood. I stand still, too nervous to actually move, when I feel his hands, shaking slightly, tug at the fabric around my head. It's dark when the blindfold drops, but I can see him. Outlined with the shadows is his perfect fucking face, the face I've seen so many times and drawn just as many. He smiles easily, his mouth quirking up in the damn sideways grin he always has, his hazel eyes sparking under the sidestage lights.

He's the first to react, sighing softly as his eyes flick over my face, taking in the details just as I do to him. "It's actually you. You're really here."

Emotions flood through me, so many at a time I can't grasp just one. But my body seems to decide rather quickly exactly what it's going to do because suddenly I'm pulling an arm back and clenching my hand into a fist, bringing it forward just as fast for it to connect with his jaw.

In just that one motion, we go from being alone to being surrounded by people. A security guard and some guy with crazy curly hair are next to Frank. "What the hell are you doing!?" Demands Jamia, who's standing near my side, Bob beside her.

The security guard takes a step closer to me, looking ready to throw my ass out of here, but Frank shakes his head, stopping him. "No, don't." The security guy hesitates, glancing at Frank like he's crazy. "Seriously, I probably deserved it." His dark eyes move back to me and he looks kind of worried. "What did you do to deserve that?"

I bite down on my lip, unsure of what exactly to say. I can't explain to him that the way he treats me caused me to almost relapse, not around Bob and Jamia and this guy with a fro whose name I still haven't learned. Instead, I stand there silently, just watching him, still trying to process that he's real, that he's here, and I just punched him.

"Gerard?" Frank asks softly and the way he says my name has my stomach twisting, my anger dissolving and replaced with butterflies.

"That..." I manage to finally say. "That was for sleeping with Jenna, you asshole."

Frank's eyes crease with confusion and he shakes his head fervently. "What? No I never--" He seems to realize all at once and he turns a glare on Jamia. "Jamia told you that I slept with Jenna at the party." Jamia slinks back against Bob's side, looking meek.

"Nope," I say. "She sent me pictures."

Frank looks even more pissed, watching Jamia with shock. "Why the hell would you do that?"