Chemtober Challenge; Oneshots and Drawings.

ELEVEN: House of Wolves

"I don't believe in fictions' happy endings. I think TV is just another way to lie to our children that everything will be okay no matter what." -Anonymous 

sorry lol I think I was kind of projecting here-

Trigger warning: Use of homophobic slurs (some are used endearingly). Graphic descriptions of physical pain/bodily harm. Vomiting. Death.

Freezing cold October air pushed into Frank's long jacket, whipping it out like a cape. The icy air grasped his body through every layer of his clothing, sinking into his bones and chilling him relentlessly.

Frank pulled his coat tighter around his small frame, sinking his head into it's collar, marching onward for his high school's closed doors and warmed hallways.

Opening the door, he rushed inside, stamping his feet awkwardly to try and gain some warmth, and he ran a hand through his chilled hair, as if that could warm him a little more. He got to his locker and clicked it's combination in, working straight from it's memorized rhythm instead of looking at the faded numbers on its surface.

"Hey-yo, I-e-ro!"

Frank glanced over his shoulder at Gerard Way, resisting his burning desire of rolling his eyes. "What?"

Gerard made a face looking like an asshole version of Jim from The Office. "You're in front of my locker again, dipshit."

Frank feigned apologetics, pulling his locker door open. "Wait your turn, dipshit."

Gerard leaned on the locker door, slamming it closed in Frank's face. "You have an attitude problem, you know that?"

Restraining himself from yelling, Frank gripped his hands into fists and turned to look at the other teen. "Can you not?"

"Is that your only comeback?" Gerard asked, raising his eyebrows. "Seriously, all that time you spend with your nose in a book and that's the wittiest thing you come up with?"

Frank sighed tiredly. "Dude, it's 7am. Can I just get into my locker?"

"Say please."

"Make me."

"Maybe I will, faggot."

Frank inhaled sharply through his nose. "Gerard,"

Frank had just come out to most of the school on his own. Gerard had been outed by some asshole cheerleader his junior year. They were the only two gay guys in the whole school, and Gerard decided to torture Frank because of it. "Why be friends when enemies are so much easier to make?" Had been one of the first things Gerard said to him. Figures.

"What, Frank?" Gerard asked, tilting his head inquisitively.

"Fine." Frank said, picking his battles and giving up. He stepped away from the locker. "Go ahead. I'm late as it is, so it doesn't fucking matter anyways."

Gerard faked astonishment, placing a hand on his chest. "Language!"

After a thousand fucking years, Gerard got his locker open, got his books out, and slammed the thing closed again, stepping back so Frank could get back into his.

"How's your leg?" Gerard asked casually.

Frank was on the football team (as per his mother's request). Last season, Frank had sprained his ankle and torn a muscle in the same game, and had been in various casts and crutches for months because the kid's a slow healer.