"Ugh," I groaned.

Fucking school.

That was, until I remembered what had happened yesterday.

I jumped out of bed, grinning as I threw on my regular clothes and yanked a brush through my unruly hair.

Soon after, I was sitting in Biology, glancing anxiously at the clock. Chemistry couldn't come fast enough.

"Mr. Iero," Mrs. Rossingnol snapped, glaring down at me. "Would you care to share with the class what you are waiting for?"

"Chemistry," I answered honestly.

"And why is that?"

"Because I like to mix things," I lied.

She gave me an evil look before returning to the bone she was describing. I rolled my eyes when she wasn't looking and continued doodling a vampire bat on my notebook.

The bell trilled, and I literally jumped out of my seat. Naturally, I was the first one out the door.

I dashed to my locker and hurled my extra books inside, and then heading straight to Chemistry.

But when I walked into the classroom, Gerard was nowhere to be seen.

My heart sunk.

I went to go sit down at our- I mean, the empty one, of course- table and sighed as the bell rang, putting my head in my arms and sulking while my thoughts were racing.

Is he okay? Is he embarrassed about yesterday? Did his dad hurt him at all? Did Mikey get a hold of-

Gerard staggered into the room, looking breathless. He flopped down beside me, panting as the teacher finished organizing her desk and turned to the microscope.

"Hey, Gee!" I greeted. He smiled at the nickname.

"Hey, Frank. If you're wondering why I'm late, it's because I forgot my Chemistry shit in the Gym, and I had to run all the way there and back."

"Ah. I see. Now, look," I said, lowering my voice so that only he could hear. "About yesterday…"

Gerard sighed dejectedly. "I guess you want nothing to do with me now, huh?"

"Not at all. I was wondering why you didn't tell anyone about that, if not me?"

"I did. I told Robin. But he moved, remember?"

"Yeah. And also, I was wondering if you wanted to sleep over. I'm sure my dad wouldn't mind."

"Oh."

Honestly, I had no idea where all of this confidence was coming from. Usually I'm too afraid to talk to anyone besides my family, and when I did I stuttered and tripped over my words like crazy.

But not Gerard. Gerard was easy to talk to.

"So, do you want to?"

"Sounds fantastic, really," he grinned.

"And, just so you know," I added. "This," I trailed my fingers across his forearm, dusting my own skin with his makeup, "is coming off. And you are going to tell me exactly how each one got there."

He frowned. "Demanding, much?"

I chuckled. "Yes, I am."

"Well, then," he replied, flipping over my own arm to reveal my own scars. "You," he pointed to the faded lines, "are going to tell me the story of Frank Iero, since I didn't get to hear it yesterday because of my, um, episode."

I sighed. "Deal."

He grinned. "Love you, Frank."

"Yeah, yeah. Love you too, Gee," I smiled.

I did love him, for sure. But how so?

As a friend? As a brother, even?

…As something more?

"Are you sure it's okay?" Gerard asked for the hundredth time as we walked from the school back to my house.

"Yes, Gerard, it's fine. I already texted my dad, and he's cool with it."

He beamed at me. "Thanks for inviting me, Frank."

"Any time." My mouth seriously has a mind of its own.

We arrived about five minutes later at my doorstep. I grinned at him. "Enter…if you dare."

"Oh, I dare," he laughed, stepping over the threshold. "Wow. Nice house."

"Why thank you."

"Of course."

I laughed. "Dad, Gerard's here!"

My dad, the amazing person he is, came around the corner with a tray of chocolate chip cookies, bless him.

Note to self: work harder to keep grades up.

My dad smiled at us, balancing the tray in one hand and holding the other out to Gerard. "You must be Gerard. Frank's told me a lot about you."

Gerard grinned at me and shook my dad's hand warmly. "Has he?"

Dad laughed. "Not really, but he's mentioned you, and you know, that's always the thing to say," he winked. Gerard chuckled.

"Have a cookie, you two," Dad offered, holding out the tray. We both took one.

"Thank you, Mr. Iero."

My dad smiled. "Please, don't call me that. Too formal. I would prefer Frank, but seeing as that's also my son's name, anything you like is fine. If you want, you can call me Dad," he added with a laugh.

Gerard smiled. "Okay, Dad."

I laughed. "Thanks, Dad. Let's go to my room, Gerard."

"Have fun!" Dad called as I led him down the hallway.

Gerard flopped down on my bed as soon as we entered the room. I giggled and poked him in the ribs. "Tired."

Gerard rolled over to face me. "Nah. Not really. Your dad's awesome. I wish he was my real dad," he said a little wistfully.

I really didn't want to get on this topic, so I changed the subject quickly. "Yeah, he's cool. Hey, what bands do you like, anyway? I saw your posters."

He paused for a minute, and then spewed out a list. "The Misfits, Black Flag, Iron Maiden, Queen, Bullet For My Valentine, Nirvana, Sick Puppies, Metallica, Green Day…the works."

Subconsciously I felt my mouth hanging open. "Why didn't you tell me? You basically just listed every one of my favorite bands."

Under the concealer on his face I knew he blushed. "Everyone else was obsessed with either Justin Bieber, One Direction or some other band with half-dressed chicks."

"I'm guessing the first two were for the girls?"

"Hopefully," he laughed.

I laughed with him, but after I stopped I looked at him again and suddenly the atmosphere grew serious.

"Gerard?"

"Yeah?" he almost whispered.

I sighed. "Are you going to cooperate, or do we have to repeat what happened yesterday?"

He hesitated, but then it clicked. "Oh. Frank, you…no, don't-"

"Fine, then. Yesterday it is."

I dashed out of my room and to the bathroom. Like lightning, I wet a washcloth and smeared soap all over it. Then, before I could go back to get Gerard, I heard him running down the hallway.

"Oh no you don't!" I yelled, chasing after him and brandishing the towel like a torch. He yelped and braced himself on the other side of the couch.

"Gerard, I've already seen it, just let me."

He shook his head. "No. Not all of it." Then he covered his mouth with his hands, eyes wide.

"There's more? What are they doing to you?"

He hesitated, and I took this to my advantage and lunged, grabbing his waist and pulling him down on the couch.

I sat on his hips. "Ha."

His eyes narrowed. "Not fair."

"Totally fair."

Suddenly, a defeated expression came over his face.

"Is this why?"

That caught me off guard. "What?"

"Is this why you invited me over? So you can laugh at everything that's happened to me, even though I probably deserve it."

I gasped. "Gerard, that's not it at all. I really do want to help you, but I can only do so if you tell me the full story. And you don't deserve any of this at all! And you want to know something?"

"What?"

I looked him directly in the eyes. "I've idolized you for God knows how long."

His eyes widened. "You have?"

"Yeah. I mean, I thought you were perfect. You still are. You'll always be perfect to me."

I heard his breath catch in his throat.

And, in a sudden turn of events, I heard footsteps enter the room, only to stop dead in their tracks.

"I, uh," my dad stammered. "Am I interrupting anything?"

I blushed redder than I ever had in my life. "Dad, what the heck? We weren't doing anything."

Gerard decided to be all smart and say, "Sadly, no, we weren't," which made me smack him on the side of the head. "Not the time, Gerard."

My dad stared at us before grinning. "Alright, I believe you. But Frank, if you two ever decided to date, I'd drive you. You can tell me anything, you know."

I face-palmed, my cheeks beet red. Gerard laughed at my embarrassment.

"Dad, really?"

He raised his hands in the air defensively. "Just putting it out there. Moral support is always a good thing."

I sighed. "Don't worry, dad."

"I'm not worried! Plus, I'd prefer Gerard over any other boy. He seems nice."

"DAD!"

"Okay, I'm going, I'm going."

After my dad left, Gerard and I looked at each other for a millisecond before he broke out in hysterics.

"Your face is priceless!" he howled.

I scowled at him, then grinned evilly and began attacking his face with the washcloth, which, since my dad had arrived, I had forgotten up until about three seconds ago.

He froze when he realized what I was doing. "HEY! Not fair! Taking advantage of me like that!"

I frowned at him. "Do I have to do this the hard way?"

"I thought this was the hard way."

"This is the semi-medium easy-hard way."

"What?"

I shook my head and sat up again. Then I body-slammed him back into the couch, holding him hostage with my own body. "This," I said in a strained voice, "is the hard way."

He sighed. "You did this yesterday."

"I know."

He smirked. "I bet I could get you off."

"Go ahead. Try."

He lifted his back off the couch- well, tried to. I pinned him down with my arm and resumed the scrubbing of his face. "Told you."

He sighed again. "Fine."

Then, in complete and utter mutiny, he rocked his hips up into mine, trying again to get me off. An electric current ran through my body and down to my…

Oh. OH.

For the sake of my dignity, I accidentally-on-purpose fell off the couch and hit the floor, letting out a muffled "Oomph!" as I hit the ground face-first. Thank god for a carpet.

"Fine," I mumbled into the fabric. "You win."

He remained silent.

I raised my head to look at him. Just my head. "What's up?"

Where I had managed to scrub off the makeup, I saw his face was red. "Nothing."

Had he noticed my "problem"? "What?"

"Nevermind."

I shrugged dismissively and lay on the floor, waiting for my issue to go away. After a minute or two I shifted a little, and sat up gratefully.

"Gerard, please, can I just see it? I'll tell you everything about me after, I promise."

He sighed. "Fine.

I got shakily to my feet and handed him the washcloth. He took it, walked over to my bathroom, and began scrubbing his face and arms. Then he took a deep breath, faced me, and pulled his shirt over his head.

I nearly passed out.

He looked like he had been through an entire war- or at least walked naked through a cactus field.

"Gerard," I gasped.

He smiled sadly at me. "Am I still your perfect boy?"

I looked up from his chest and into his eyes. "Yeah."

He laughed softly and shook his head.

I bit my lip and began searching through the cupboards. I pulled out a bottle of peroxide and some cotton balls.

His eyes widened. "What do you intend to do?"

"Does it need confirmation? Sit."

He sat on the toilet. I kneeled on the floor and poured peroxide on one of the cotton swabs.

"This may sting a bit at first, but it's just cleaning the cuts, okay?"

He rolled his eyes. "Just do it."

I pressed the cotton ball to his chest, cleaning the gashes that were still open and had not scabbed over yet. He winced a little.

"You okay?"

He smiled. "Define okay."

I chuckled and continued cleaning the cuts.

Once I was satisfied, I rubbed Neosporin on them and patted his shoulder, standing up.

"All done."

"Thanks, Frank."

"Any time."

"You said that a while ago," he laughed.

"You noticed."

He blushed and looked down. "Sometimes I notice things other people wouldn't."

Ah. Um. Had he, uh…felt my problem earlier?

"What kind of things?"

"Your favorite color is black."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious."

"Because you think it's safe."

I stared at him. "How did you know that?"

"Your dad is proud of you no matter what."

"…What?"

He smiled. "Told you."

"What else do you know?" I asked, astounded.

"Well, I know that I want to know more about you."

I laughed and mussed up his hair. "Alright."