Requested on Tumblr
A/N: I am finally up to date with wattpad! I usually post on Tumblr, and for a while i forgot to update wattpad, but that's done now! Yay.
Word count: 3 466
Being friends with Frank was always spending the breaks together with his arm flung over your shoulder, sitting next to each other in every class, never caring about the evil stares and always ready to tell each other a joke.
Being friends with Frank were sleepovers and watching movies until the early hours of the morning before falling asleep in the same bed or cuddled together on a couch.
Being friends with Frank was sitting in detention together because he spoke his mind in class and got detention and when you said that this was unfair you also got detention. It was a tradition by now.
Being friends with Frank also were rides in his old car, windows down, riding through the night and feeling infinite to the sound of your favorite bands. It was standing on a hill in the middle of nowhere, shouting lyrics at each other, dancing around and feeling powerful enough to take on the entire world. It was sinking down on your knees, when you were out of breath, high from the adrenaline flooding through your veins and slowly finding calm comfort of knowing you would always be there at each other's side.
Being with friends with Frank was mostly loud and rebellious, it was you going to every single one of his concerts, sitting backstage on a table and dangling your feet to the rhythm of the guitar riffs or the drums.
It were his puppy dog eyes when he needed help sewing a new patch to his jacket, and sweets snuck into your locker to surprise you.
It was the exchange of annoyed looks on the sports field when you both had to do things you hated and/ or sucked at. It was him finding you crying behind the school after physical education, because girls continued making fun of you when you were not good at what you had to do. It was him wrapping you in his beloved, patches covered jeans jacket, taking you in his arm and guiding you back inside, daring the others to make fun of you again.
It was you stopping him from beating up bullies who took the sandwiches from younger students, even though they would have deserved it, but you did not want Frank to get into trouble.
It was exchanging foods at lunch you did not like; he got your olives and you got his green beans.
Being friends with Frank was sitting on the small sofa in your room on Sunday evenings, knees pulled up to your chests, quietly imagining which horrors school would confront you with this time. It was wiping tears of each other's cheeks, assuring each other that live would get better, even if you did not believe it yourselves. It was feeling lost in the small room and being unimportant in the big, wide world.
It was helping Frank when he had an anxiety attack that made him curl into a tiny ball, sitting on the floor and shaking. You would wrap your arms around him, hold him tight and stroke his hair until he had calmed down.
It was getting him out of bed when nothing else would because his depression was kicking him down again.
It was sitting in silence next to each other, taking comfort in knowing you were not alone.
Being friends with Frank was sometimes silent.
Being in love with Frank was different. It was your heart racing every time he touched you, breath hitching every time you saw him. It was the urge to touch his hair when he was asleep or cuddle into him. It was heartbreak when you were falling asleep on your own, because you knew that nothing in the world would make it possible for you to be with Frank.
And it was guilt. Guilt because you knew you lied every time you promised to tell each other everything. You did not want to lie to Frank, but you could not tell him either. You were terrified he would find out one day and that he would hate you for it. You could not lose your closest, your best, your only friend over a stupid, stupid crush.
Sometimes you could forget that you were in love with him, or pretend that he was in love with you too, that this story would have a happy end, at least while he was with you, while you only had to extend your hand and could feel him by your side. You lived for the moments in which you could be carefree at his side, the moments he treated you like you were the only one in the world that mattered for him. But you died in the moments in which you were alone and realized that it was only friendship, that once you were done with high school, you would probably never see each other again. Your heart broke over realizing that after graduation he would go on tours to pursue his music career while you would go to college. Sometimes your mother checked on you to see why you were crying in the middle of the night. She brought hot chocolate and asked why you did not talk to Frank about it, since she did not know about how much in love you were with him and how impossible it was for you to reveal that to him. So you told her he could not help, and she patted your back until you had cried yourself to sleep.
~*~
It was already late at night. You sat on Frank's bed, legs crossed, humming the tune of one of his songs that was stuck in your head. You could hear the shower running in the bathroom. You had been to one of his concerts again and because it was late he had offered you to stay over, as always. Now he was taking a quick shower while you ran your fingers over his blankets, trying to stop the spinning thoughts in your mind. You did your best to focus on the pattern on the sheets, pushing the thoughts of Frank's bare, wet chest out of your mind. One day you would probably go crazy over the boy. The image of his dripping, black hair appeared in front of you. Quickly you focused back in the pattern on the blanket. It was okay to have these thoughts when you were alone in your bed, as okay as it could be to imagine your best friend like that, someone who you were supposed to have a completely platonic relationship with. But you could not think about these things while he was next doors. You sighed quietly and let your eyes wander over the walls of his room. There were still the same band posters you had known for years and a few newer ones as well. An amplifier stood in the corner of the room next to one of Frank's guitars. On the window above his desk he had written lyric ideas with white-board pen. In one of the corners was a small doodle of a dog. His wardrobe was covered in photographs. Some of them were pictures he had taken at concerts, some were of him on stage and over the last time there were more and more pictures of you as well. He loved to take pictures with you in them. Sometimes he spent hours staging a picture, sometimes he just pulled out the camera and took a quick snap. You stood up, curiously scanning the collection of pictures of you he had put up. There was one from the rehearsal for drama, in which you stared absentmindedly into the spotlight. Another one was from the performance of the play. It captured a moment in which you had to throw a plate across the stage. Your face was contorted with anger, the plate was shattering on the floor into a thousand pieced and the light made each one of your stray hairs shine. The picture was amazing, and if you had not been the person portrayed, you would have even liked it. The next picture you noticed had been taken by one of Frank's bandmates. Frank was hugging you tightly right before his new band Pency Prep, in which he was lead singer, played their first show ever. There were a few more pictures of you with the band, laughing backstage or during rehearsals. One picture had been taken by you and Frank together when you were sitting in his garden and played around with his new camera. Another one was from a BBQ both of you had attended. His one arm was wrapped around your waist loosely, both of you were laughing. You smiled at the picture and ran your fingers over the smooth surface before you noticed something else that drew your attention to it. It was a picture on the bottom corner of the wardrobe. It took you a moment to realize that it was a picture of you sleeping in his car, probably you had fallen asleep after one of the car rides. Frank must have had taken the photo before waking you up. You bent down to inspect it further, but in that moment the water in the bathroom was shut off and you quickly stood back up, your heart pounding slightly too fast from the discovery you had made. You wondered why he kept a picture of you sleeping on his wardrobe, without having it shown to you earlier.
When Frank exited the bathroom, you were sitting on his bed again. He wore a shirt and sweaters, just like the clothes he had given to you so you did not have to sleep in your day clothes. His hair was still damp from the shower and his face red from the hot water.
"Sooo," he jumped onto the mattress next to you, sitting down, "What do we do now?"
You looked up at him, still wondering about the picture, but you decided not to mention it.
"I don't know, you were the one insisting that I come over..." you looked at him with wide eyes, expecting him to suggest something, but he just let himself fall on his back and stared against the ceiling.
"My mind is blank," he told you. After a few moments of silence he spoke up again. "Have you ever wondered if life is just passing by us without us noticing? We could change so much in the world, but we just sit in school and rot."
He sat back up and stared at you wide eyed.
"Sometimes... but I mean... I really don't do anything to change the world..." you stared back at him, trying to find the right words. "But you, you make music, right? You play in a band, you make a difference."
"You think?" Frank looked at you proudly. "Wow, that is really a nice compliment."
"It's true," you told him with a smile. You sometimes saw the kids in the crowds he was playing to. They loved the music, and if they were anything like you, the music carried them through the day until they were safe from whatever was haunting them.
Frank continued staring at you, nervously biting his lower lip. "Have you ever kissed anyone?"
You glance snapped back up at him and you felt a blush rise into your cheeks. "You know I haven't," you answered confused. Of course he knew, why was he asking? His question made you dizzy and your heart pound painfully.
"Neither have I..."
"I know, so what?" You tilted your head and looked at him, hoping for an explanation.
"I was just wondering..." now it was his turn to blush, "you know, most people at our age have kissed someone and... I mean it would be embarrassing to kiss the person you like for the first time and you really suck at kissing."
You furrowed your brows. You had thought about that too, but because you always thought about kissing Frank and you knew that he had no experience either, you had never worried about it.
"Who are you planning on kissing," you asked instead, trying to sound playful.
"Nobody!" Frank grew even redder. "I just thought, maybe... we could try it out, you and me, you know?"
You could have sworn your heart stopped in that moment. Was he really asking to kiss you?
"Come again?"
"I mean, we could try and tell each other what we liked and what we didn't like and that way..." he was waving his hands around helplessly.
Your mind was spinning. You wanted to kiss Frank really, really badly. But you did not want it to be just like that, you wanted him to like you the same way you liked him. And you were certain that if you kissed him without your feelings being returned, there would be an awkward tension between the two of you until the end of time. An awkward tension you did not want. So if you had to die without ever having kissed Frank Iero, but with an intact friendship, that was the way it was going to happen.
"I don't think I want that," you told him hesitantly.
The disappointment on his face was visible immediately, even though he tried to hide it.
"Oh," he whispered, clearly ashamed. His shoulders sunk down and he lowered his gaze on the mattress.
Great, now this was even more awkward. You waited for him to say something but he kept quiet. Maybe you should just kiss him; at least the awkward tension of the moment would be gone, maybe. But it would be even worse later. You shimmied uneasily around for a moment and were about to speak up, just to say something, anything, when Frank suddenly spoke up.
"You know how we always promise to tell each other everything, no secrets and stuff?" His eyes were still fixed on the blanket in front of him while he fiddled around with the hem of his shirt.
"Yeah," you mumbled, scared that Frank had picked up on your feelings for him.
"I've been lying to you," he suddenly admitted, his eyes finally meeting yours.
You tilted your head slightly, asking wordlessly what he had been lying about.
"I've always told you how much you mean to me as a friend, but I've never told you that I actually love you and that the only reason I started talking to you in middle school was because I had a huge crush on you. And then I got to know you and you became my best friend and all the while I was still pinning for you and I know this changes everything, I'm completely okay if you don't wanna be friends anymore and I know things will probably never go back to how they used to be, but I just can't do this anymore, you know?"
He looked at you, eyes pleading you to understand him, to let him down gently, but your mind was too occupied putting the puzzle pieces together.
"Is that why you took a photo of me sleeping," you wondered.
Frank groaned quietly, covered his face with his hands and sunk back on the mattress without answering.
You thought about a way to best confront him about your own feelings.
"You know, you might be right, things will probably never go back how they used to be." Your voice was calm and you could see Frank pulling his knees slightly towards his chest.
"Maybe you should leave," he told you, his voice monotone.
You pretended not to have heard him. "But I really wanna stay friends, if that's okay with you."
You sat up from the blanket and crawled to Frank until you were over him. His face was still hidden by his hands and you were not sure if he was crying or just listening quietly. Anyway you were pretty sure he wanted to be anywhere but here right now.
"We could, of course, be a bit more than friends," you told him, surprised by how calm your own voice was.
It felt like your body was moving without you ordering it to. It just carefully pulled Frank's tense hands away from his beautiful face, while on the inside you were totally freaking out. He looked surprised at you words, eyes widened and lips slightly parted. The blush was still burning on his cheeks.
"And considering I lied to you too, about my feelings for you, I'd like to take back the 'I don't wanna kiss you' part and actually do it."
Frank's eyes scanned over your face, then he leant up and connected your mouths, your eyes fluttered shut. You were both shaking slightly at the foreign sensation. His lips were warm and soft against yours. For a moment it felt like you were frozen in spot, too overwhelmed by what was happening to react in any way. You felt him place a hand at your waist, a gesture you were used to, but this time it sent a bolt of electricity through your system, making you shiver slightly. With one swift motion he turned the two of you around so he was on top. You caught a glimpse of him smiling before he leant back down to you, connecting the kiss again. This time he seemed to have more courage and slightly moved his lips against yours. Since you had no idea what you were supposed to do, you just copied his movements. You were fascinated by how gentle he was and how perfectly your lips fit together. Your insides felt fuzzy as you wrapped your fingers into his still damp hair. It was really soft and his curls perfectly rolled around your finger. Your heart leapt into your throat as you felt his tongue press against your lips slightly. You left him hanging for a while before you opened your mouth for him. You could feel him smile into the touch and relished the feeling of his hands at both of your sides, holding you gently in place. For a while you let him explore your mouth with his tongue before you got too curious yourself. He fought for dominance for a few seconds before giving in, allowing you to kiss him deeply yourself. It was a strange feeling, but strange in the best of ways. It was warm and wet, soft but also strong and the taste of his lips almost blew your mind. You wished you could taste him like that forever while your nose was filled with his delicate scent and your hands wrapped into his beautiful hair. The tiniest of moans escaped him before he took back control, gaining confidence and kissing you harder than before, pressing you into the mattress, trying to balance his bodyweight so he would not crush you.
You only noticed how breathless you were, when he pulled away and rolled off to the side. A giggle escaped both of you while you were trying to catch your breaths. You turned to face him, his cheeks were flushed a beautiful red, his perfect lips were slightly swollen and crimson. A smile played around on the corners of his mouth and you could tell that he was as high on adrenaline as you were, but exhausted at the same time. He extended his hand and ran his fingers over your cheek, a grin lighting up his face.
"You're blushing," he told you, his hand wandering from your cheek to your hair, softly stroking it.
"You should see yourself," you told him cockily and he giggled.
"Sooo... does that mean you like me?" he asked hopefully.
"I just kissed you until I almost fainted from lack of oxygen, I think it's safe to say, I do."
He giggled again and you knew he was about to say something really stupid. "Ugh, (y/n) likes a boy," he mocked.
"Oh god, Frankie," you playfully hit his arm, making him giggle even harder.
"Guess what, I like you too," he whispered, suddenly serious again.
He pulled you close to him, until your chest was resting against his. He nuzzled his face into your hair, breathing in your scent, humming softly. You placed your cheek against his shoulder, listening to his heartbeat and breathing. The last thing you registered was how he pressed a soft kiss against your forehead before sudden tiredness overwhelmed you and you fell asleep in his warm embrace. He felt you relax to his touch and how your breath got even. Sleepily he closed his eyes, his heart skipping a few more beats when he reminded himself of what was just happening before sleep overwhelmed the young musician as well and he was gently covered by the soft blanket of restorative slumber.