Just Two Outcasts [Frerard]

I Can't Do It.

I woke up early in the morning and jumped out of bed, running to the bathroom. The alcohol burned coming up just as bad as it did going down. I heard Frank get up and move my greasy hair out of my face. I sniffed and felt tears run down my cheeks. I was so disgusting.

Absolutely horrible. Frank wrapped his arms around me as I cried like the pathetic faggot I was. I hated everything about myself. I can't do it. Frank whispered soothing things into my ear, but it did no good to calm me down. I looked down at my hand to see it bandaged tightly. I must've cut it. I gripped Frank's shirt tightly and choked out through my sobs: "Thank you, F-Frank..." He hugged me tightly, both of us holding on to each other like our lives depended on it.

My head hurt horribly, but Frank seemed prepared. As I gritted my teeth and held my head, he reached into the pocket of his pajama pants and gave me an asprin. I took it gratefully and looked at Frank. I'm sure I looked like shit. I sighed and said with a weak laugh: "Guess you've got your work cut out for you today." He laughed. "Guess so. It'll be worth it, though. We can get through this, Gerard." The last sentence was said more serious and quiet than the rest.

I sniffed pathetically and whispered softly, cursing my voice for being shaky: "W-we can?" He nodded, kissing my forehead. "Of course. I'll help you and you can help me. We'll do it together." I nodded, leaning my head against his shoulder. "I like that idea." I murmured into his shirt. I felt his body shake as he laughed.

---

Frank and I hung around my house the entire day, not worrying about school, as it was Saturday. We took turns picking different horror movies, I sketched Frank in my journal, he brought his guitar over and played for me. We certainly weren't bored. When Mikey got home, he barely had time to yell out where he was going before he threw his backpack onto the couch and went over to Ray's house. Frank and I hadn't even responded, too deep in our conversation to pay much attention to Mikey's four second visit.

"Want do you want to do, Gerard?" I thought a moment and smiled: "Want to play drunk Truth Or Dare?" He narrowed his eyes. "Gerard..." He warningly, but I quickly cut him off: "I'll be fine, Frank. I know my limits." Okay, that was a complete lie, but I really wanted to have a drink with Frank. He looked at my pleading expression and finally sighed, giving in: "Fine, Gerard. But keep to your limit." I nodded, excited about getting to drink and to play our game.

---

By seven thirty, we were both completely drunk. Frank was really giggly when he was drunk. He was actually really cute when he was drunk. Woah. Where did that come from? I passed it off as my drunken brain being drunk and stupid. Frank hiccuped before slurring: "Truth or dare, Gerard?" I picked dare, as I think I picked truth the time before. I always did that, alternating between truth and dare. He giggled madly before saying loudly:

"I dare you to kiss me. Right here. Right now." I was slightly surprised by his dare, but giggled and said happily: "Oh, is that *hic* all, Frankie?" He nodded. I shrugged and leaned forward, pressing my lips against his. It was meant to be quick, but it quickly deepened as Frank kissed me back, tangling his fingers in my hair. I quickly deepened the kiss, pushing Frank back against the sofa and sitting on him, all without breaking the kiss. He tasted of cigarettes and alcohol, a similar taste to what I'm sure was my own. As soon as I pulled away, I smirked: "That a good enough kiss?" He gasped as I kissed down to his neck, biting gently on his collarbone. "Oh yeah." He slurred. "Definitely good enough, *hic* Gee..." I sat up on the couch, giggling. Frank's hair was completely messed up and there would definitely be at least three hickeys on his neck tomorrow.

He giggled and said softly: "It seems you gave me a gift." I cocked my head, confused. "Hmm?" He pointed to his neck, right where I had nipped at his collarbone. "Might I return the favor?" He asked cheekily. I grinned. "Absolutely." He immediately pushed me down and sat down on me, kissing and nipping at my neck, making me moan. At that moment, I heard the door unlock and stiffened. Even drunk, I knew Mom would kill me.

Frank sat up, still on top of me and breathed out a sigh of relief as Mikey entered the room. He gaped at us for a little while, us simply staring back, Frank from his spot on my stomach, and me underneath him. He finally cleared his throat and said nervously: "Did I, um...interrupt...something?" Frank and I answered at the same time: "Yes." Mikey turned red and quickly went upstairs, not doubt noticing the empty bottles of wine on the floor, but not commenting. Frank turned back to me and smiled, slurring out: "Now. Where were we?"