"Uggnrrg."

"Come on wake the fuck up, Frank, I'd like to change the sheets of my bed and you slept all fucking day."

I jumped out of the bed in a hurry.

"Dammit, I missed school? Fuck. Why didn't you wake me?" I groaned sleepily. "And why is my a-"I paused and looked at him. His face became blank. "W-we fucked, right? Is that it? Is that why I feel like I should just go lay down again?"

"Uhm.. First, I tried to wake you up, but you would just move an arm and press your hand on my nose screaming 'SNOOZE'. And second, I can explai-"

"-We fucked and I wasn't conscious? Fucking hell." I said. "Why weren't you conscious, asshole?" Gerard was staring at me, in confusion.

"...I said that aloud, did't I?" I asked.

"Wait..." He said raising his hand in a "wait a freaking second" way. "...What? You- I- Fuck, Frank! I fucking took all day preparing that speech to apologize about what happened last night, to explain how I didn't rape you, and how fucking eager you were and how crazy that drove me and you fucking tell me you wish you were conscious? Seriously Frank?"

"Am I supposed to say sorry there? 'Cause I don't really kno-"

"Shush."

"Wha? Helloooo? I think I have the right to talk here, since I didn't get to enjoy what happened yesterday." I said.

"Who said I enjoyed anything?" He said.

I shrugged and searched for my clothes.

"I did enjoy." He mumbled, throwing my clothes on my face.

Like, it hurt him to admit it so he had to hurt me physically to...compensate?

"Thanks," I said, and he cocked an eyebrow, "Man, for the clothes. Not for saying I was a good fuck."

"I never said that."

"But you enjoyed so-"

"-Let's leave it at that. Get dressed." I looked at him playfully as I only had my boxers on. "Please."

"Why?"I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. "What if I don't?"

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down.

"Just, get dressed, Frank." And he left. Damn. I put on my shirt and my skinny jeans.

So. Let's sum this up. I took LSD yesterday. And according to Gerard, I was so eager that he couldn't resist his sexual urge? Here's the sum up of the sum up. Gerard, my crush, couldn't resist the desire to fuck me yesterday.

Ok maybe I kind of fairytale-d it a bit. Wait, do people fuck in fairytales? I guess we'd have to change the titles a bit. Like, Cinderfella or something.

"Cinder-fucking-fella." I said giggling, walking to the kitchen.

"I think it's Cinder-fucking-ella." He said. He was sitting at the table, his back facing me, and a bottle of beer in the hand. I also noticed three empty bottles on the floor.

"Yeah, wow, um did you just drink all that, like, in less than five minutes?" I asked and he laughed a huffed laugh.

"Yuppy yup." And he finished the bottle. Oh. Oooh. He opened another and I decided I had to step in.

"Stop." I said and took the bottle away.

"What the- Frank, don't be silly give it back." Can I admit I was a little bit afraid? Yeah because he had a fucking gun somewhere in there and he was drunk.

"I- I think you should stop."

"Who cares what you think."

"Huh."

"Do you have anyone caring about you anyway?" He said, getting up, "Is there anything that holds you down here?" His breath was hot and smelled beer and pot.

"Why are you saying that?"

"You're not asking the right questions."

"What are the right questions then?" I asked, a lump forming in my throat. I never thought he could be rude. I kind of let myself think that his personality reflected his angelical face you know. But in less than a day, he'd found my weakness.

Here is the thing. I've got no fucking one. Well Ray is there, and Dallon. But I still feel out of place, like, I am the one you don't really need. You know, that feeling where you just know that it would be the same without you, not to say better.

And Gerard-I-don't-give-a-shit-I'm-drunk just punched me right into that point.

"I'm asking you." Uh, yeah legit. He says I don't ask the right questions, and then when I ask what the right questions are, he's all like: I'm asking you. Cool. "You know, I kind of figured something out yesterday," he said.

"Oh yeah? Let me know more," I said, the sarcasm winning my voice over.

"Your parents are never home, therefore, they don't give a damn about you, and therefore, you don't mean a single fuck to them. Am I right?"

Motherfucker. Tears were starting to fill my eyes.

"Wow, ok, that's it, fuck you Gerard. Have a good time fixing yourself. You're just a fucking asshole who's out of his mind." I said and headed to the door. I turned, "And a killer."

Ooohh...shit.

His full bottle crashed to the floor, and he looked like his soul had been ripped out.

"Gerard?" I walked toward him, "Gerard?" I shook his arm. "Hey, look, I shouldn't have said that, I'm-," I sighed, because I was going to apologize when he actually provoked me. "I'm sorry," I said rolling my eyes.

He turned to look at me and walked shakily toward the couch and sat down slowly. I joined him.

"Y-you,"He tried, "I need a drink." He got up but I sat him back immediately.

"I don't thin- Oh no sorry, nobody cares about what I think. Go ahead, I don't care." I was mad, and when he got up again to take his drink, I got even madder. He stopped in his track, and turned to me awkwardly.

"You were the only one who hadn't called me a killer yet. And you don't even know the whole story. You don't know shit about everything I did, and you still were able to call me a killer."

Everything? I'm not sure I want to know the whole thing.

"I am a killer, Frankie," He said walking toward me, "I killed way more than two people."

"I'm getting out of here." I stood up and he took my arm.

He slammed me, face against the wall.

"You're not going anywhere, Frank." I stilled. As if he had just compelled me."I need to talk, and you're definitely going to listen."

"Let go of me, Gerard." I whined.

He did and started crying. Crying of anger. He looked hysterical. Jesus, I was fucking scared.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry Frank," he said, "I would never hurt you. I just- I will never get rid of this fucking need for revenge. I'm so mad all the time, I need help."

"No shit? You fucking need a therapy, man. One good loooong therapy." I said.

"I mean- I mean your help," he said,"I'm going to tell you something, promise not to leave me alone after that...Please."

And frankly? I reconsidered promising him that. Though, my curiosity won.

"I.. I-I promise..." I sighed.

"I'm a hired killer, Frank,"

"Man, I'm so getting out of here." I said getting up.

"Stay. You promised. And I was one. Well, to me. I quit."

I was still standing up, but didn't move any further. I had promised. I never break promises. I was mad, scared, sad, disappointed, but I sort of, couldn't let him down. Like, some invisible strength was holding me there. He had those manipulating eyes, compelling you, forcing you into whatever he wanted or needed. And that pissed me the fuck off.

"Why did you lie? Why did you invent that entire dealing story?"

"I didn't lie. I just, didn't tell it all," he said, "When I killed the men torturing the Triad, the boss acknowledged it. He called me, then. And told me he would need me for something soon. He called me late in the evening of a Friday, and asked me to come on that little street near the Riverside Country Park, and that someone was waiting for me there to give me instructions."

He continued, rambling about how dark it was outside, and he finally got to the point where he met the guy there, "He was wearing a pitiable leather jacket and was leaning against some weird rotten wall. He handed me a gun and pointed to the park, he said that a man was trussed up on tree, and that I had to finish the job. I reluctantly walked toward the park and-"

"-Stop, wow, man I don't want to know how you killed your first victim, and how you tortured the others or whatever was in your head when you cut their throat or pulled the trigger. I even wish I'd never heard what you just said." I said, because seriously, who would want to know that. And who the fuck would even share such a story?

He looked down and turned his head, looking away from me.

"Sorry, I- you can leave if you want to, I guess," he said. I brought my hand to my neck, took my jacket and sighed heavily. Do I leave. Do I stay. Do I help him. Do I run away. He does need help, but can he be fixed? I opened my mouth and closed it a few times, when he eventually broke the silence.

"But, I'd-," he sighed, and rubbed his head hardly, "I'd be glad if you stayed," he muttered, and that was it.

I threw my jacket on the couch and took him in my arms, because he needed a hug. Maybe. Or was it just me? Anyway, he rested his head on the crook of my neck, which, I suppose, was an uncomfortable position for him considering how funny sized I was.

We stood like this for what seemed like hours, squeezing each other every now and then and we eventually pulled away.

He tried a smile and turned to go to the kitchen and I followed. And as clumsy as anyone can be, I slipped on the beer from the broken bottle on the floor, and fucking fell.

Of course Gerard laughed. Who wouldn't have. But he stopped quite quickly and helped me up and, oh, that was one pleasurable eye contact we got there. He licked his bottom lip while smiling cheekily. And I guess I just blushed. Yeah. I turned my look to somewhere else.

"So...we should wash that," I said.

"Yeah, uh, I'll do it later," he said, "Listen, Frankie, I'm sorry for, you know, those awful things I said about you. I just was-"

"-Drunk? Stupid? An asshole? Being a dick? A disgusti-"

"-Yeah yeah, all of that, stop now." He said, and I sighed in annoyance. I eventually calmed down since he was actually apologizing. "I just am sorry about that."

"S'fine."I muttered reluctantly, and he smiled slightly. It wasn't really fine; I still was a bit shaken from that but oh well.

My phone started ringing in my jacket and I ran to it, avoiding the beer on the floor this time, and picked it up. I looked at the ID before answering. Dallon. I hesitated, and Gerard sneaked behind me, and rested his head on my shoulder.

"You're not answering?" he said.

"Uh, I don't know if I want to," I said. The phone stopped ringing.

"Who was it, then?"

"No one," I said. Because, Dallon apparently knew Gerard and who knew who he was to Gerard and how Gerard would react or whatever. I just couldn't tell him, could I?

"Then I'll figure out myself," he said playfully, and started tickling me, searching in my back pockets.

He obviously knew my phone was in my front right pocket, but he still put his hand on my low back, stroking it all the way down to my thighs. He slightly kissed my neck. And pulled away.

"Got it!" He exclaimed.

"Wha-"I palmed my front pockets and, no phone. "How?"

"Distraction," he said calmly, not looking up to me. Ok, keep calm. There sure were more than one Dallon in New Jersey, right? No? He could, like, not make the link or whatever.

"Who's Dallon?" He asked, smirking, "Is he your boyfriend? You cheated on him with me?" He said smirking, letting a bit of pride appear on his face.

"All wrong, he's a friend," I answered simply.

"Mmh." And the phone rang again. Please not Dallon, not Dallon, not Dallon. He looked at me smirking even more and answered the phone. "Hello?" he said, and I was frustrated. I wasn't able to hear what Dallon was saying. If it was Dallon, that is. "How do you know my name? Who are-" No, no no no no, no! "I don't think you have the right to tell me these sorts of things. Plus it wouldn't be too wise." I need to do something. Whatever it is. "I fuck whoever I want to, asshole. You've got nothing to tell me." Jesus, ok, let's forget what I just heard. I need to interrupt Gerard, without pissing him off. Anyone has a clue about how to do that? I walked in front of him, and got on my knees. "Your Frankie is safe, dickhead. I don't- what the fuck Frank?" I looked up at him as I stopped pulling down his pants. "No, don't stop, just what the- Oh shut the hell up Dallon!" He said. Then he looked at me, thoughtfully, I guess, "I've got a mouth to fuck," he said and hung up.

That's a win. Wait what. I'm not a- whatever. I pulled his pants all the way down.

"That's all you've found to make me hang up, Frank?"

"It worked though, didn't it?" I said, satisfied.

He was already hardening. I swear I'll try not to mention it anymore but, Gerard was my five months crush. And I was there, in front of his cock, after a sex filled night. Is this really happening?

"Looks like," he said eyes closed, "after I fuck your mouth, we'll have to talk."

"You don't fuck my-"

"-Suck, Frank." Ok, in a normal time, I just would have stood up and punched the one who told me that. But the way Gerard said it, made it sound just so hot and compelling and Jesus, even I couldn't resist.

As soon as I approached my lips to the tip, he bucked into my mouth making me choke on his cock.

"Thanks god for the whole throat moving thingy," he muttered, his head tilted back.

Then he looked down at me and I looked back. And I knew from then that our looks would be stuck like this during the whole thing.

I slowly pulled away from his length and licked my lips to make it more comfortable for me.

He was watching me intensely; his lips were parted a little and his tongue was slowly dancing behind his bottom lip.

I felt the urge to kiss him but contained myself as I kissed the tip of his cock, holding the back of his thighs. I took him in my mouth and started bobbing up and down.

I somehow wanted to feel his hand on my head, pushing or pulling it, but he kept his hands on the back of his neck. Our eyes were still locked on each other's and god, that lust in his look didn't fail to make me harden.

His breath became shaky and heavy as I took more of him in my mouth.

He eventually grabbed my head, and bucked his hips twice, hitting the back of my throat.

His eyes widened a bit, and he tensed up.

I pulled away, my lips barely touching his length but my tongue licking all the way up.

He finished himself off, looking at my crotch.

I was still on my knees, staring mouth open as he came on his hand.

I moved forward my knees and licked the cum on his dick, and his hand.

"Fuck," he whispered, staring at my tongue intensely.

I got up once I had cleaned him totally and I brushed the little bit of dust on my left knee.

His eyes were still lustful as he smiled at me, thankfully I guess, and finished buckling his belt.

"So," he said looking back at my now obvious erection, "Dallon. Who is he, and how does he know my name? Do you talk about me with your friends?" He asked, grinning.

I swear, was this guy that self -centered or what?

"You don't know him?" I asked.

"No, should I?" He said, frowning.

What the actual fuck. Dallon knows Gerard but Gerard doesn't know him. Seriously, what.

"Frank? You know, I almost have been arrested, I was on the news, he can know me from there..." He said that looking back at my face.

"Right," I said, "Right..."

"Frank, how come you've never heard of me? I mean, on the news." He asked.

"Well, I don't like TV that much, and reading the newspapers isn't really my thing either, you know? So I guess I don't really know a thing about what's happening in the world, or even in my neighborhood...?"

"Ok," he said slowly, "and how come you're still not scared...?" He looked hesitant.

"Who said I wasn't scared." I snapped without really wanting to actually sound that rude.

He said nothing after that. He was just looking blankly at my shirt. He looked guilty, angry, sorry, sad, and yet, it wasn't enough to make me pity him. But still, I found myself not wanting to hurt him more than he already was. He was broken and I had no right to make him feel even worse, did I?

"I'm not really scared because," I paused, "Because I feel like I know you, I kind of trust you somehow, you know? I've seen you so many times, watching your brother play badminton, smiling proudly when he won. I've seen you hug him, and talk to him, and fight brotherly with him. And you just seemed normal. And I kind of let myself think that you were just a nineteen year old dude, who just lived his life like a normal teenager, obviously fucking around sometimes and I don't know. I guess I've got this vision of you, and that no matter what, it can't really change, you know? So of course I'm really not keen on your past, and I can't say I really liked being slammed face against the wall-"

"-Sorry," he said.

"Whatever. Shit, Gerard, right now, I'm not scared, but when you got out of your mind twenty minutes ago, I really thought you would, like, cut my throat with some random knife or something." At this he looked down. "I'm not mad though, see, I'm still here. Not that you care but, whatever." I trailed off.

"I do care," he said, actually looking offended, "because you're actually the first one, besides Mikey, who can stand to stay in the same room as me. I can't help but care a little," he said, ok, more mumbled the last part.

"Hmm, ok," I said, hiding how flattered I was, "Gerard?" he looked up, "What exactly happened last night?" I asked scratching my forehead, and hoping he would play along with the sudden change of subject.

"Huh," he chuckled a second, "you, um, you want me to count you our intercourse, or? Because I'm not doing that." he said laughing slightly, and I sighed.

"Sigh," I said eventually, "so uh, I should probably get back to my house, to see if my uncaring parents like, came home."

"I said I was sorry for saying that, Frank," he said.

"Whatever." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"How can I get you to forgive me?" he asked.

"I'm not mad at you, so.." I said.

"You look mad, though."

"Maybe because I kind of need a little bit of time to, like, swallow everything you said, and recover from the whole wall-slamming thing?"

"So, it means you're mad, idiot,"he said.

"Don't call me that, dickhead."

"Fucktard."

"Dumbass,"

"Turd,"

"Nutcocker."

"Nutcocker?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"Does that even make sense?" he said chuckling.

"I don't know?" I said, smiling.

"You're weird," he stated.

"Says the- um, nothing," I almost said killer again, didn't I? He cocked an eyebrow but let it fly.

"So, you want to go home," he said, more matter-of-factly than anything, "I'll walk you there, then."

Although I was kind of mad and disappointed and what so ever, who the fuck was I to refuse this offer?

"Uh, yeah, thanks," I said.

A/N I kind off considered dropping the story and yeah.. Here's a BJ to make up for it? Erm. Um, as you see, it's the third chapter about Frerard in a row, and here's the reason: Brallon is going to be a background couple, if that's ok with you guys? Alright, there still will be some Brallon cute moments, and one or two chapter in either Dallon or Brendon POV !

Don't forget to tell me what you thought and uh yeah, that's it. I'll try to update more ok? c: I'm writing the next chapter right now, already 2550 words long :D

Also, tell me you guys got the 'Nightswimming' reference? If you didn't, go read the fic. Just type 'Nightswimming frerard' on google and you should find it right away :D