Song no.5 on the Buzzcocks' 1979 compilation album 'Singles Going Steady':
You disturb my natural emotions
You make me feel like dirt and I'm hurt
And if I start a commotion
I'll only end up losing you and that's worse
Ever fallen in love with someone
Ever fallen in love, in love with someone
Ever fallen in love, in love with someone
You shouldn't have fallen in love with
He's been looking concerningly unphased by the cold. He hasn't asked for his jacket back yet, presumably because Gerard returned to his old shivering self as soon as they'd stepped out the back door of the club. He observes the way Frank walks as he's leading him across the parking lot - it's kind of heavy, but still somehow relaxed; he keeps turning around every ten-ish steps or so to see if he's lost Gerard along the way. He's only spoken to him once while they've been outside, and it was to ask where he lives.
"I'll turn up the heat," is the first thing Iero says once they're inside his car.
Gerard knows nothing about cars, except for the number of doors and wheels they tend to have. All he can say about this one is that it's black, a coupe maybe? - he isn't sure if he's educated enough to use that word correctly - and not bad to look at. It doesn't seem very old, or new, or like it's even Frank's style, for that matter. Not that he's familiar with Frank or his style enough to be a judge of that. There's one thing, though, that he feels might be quite Frank in nature - and it's the bumper stickers. There's one on it that reads 'I hate bumper stickers' surrounded by so many other bumper stickers. It seems like it matches his character quite well. Especially considering all the other ones are a giant mess of B-movie crap and band logos.
The inside is boring and gray, but he'd say that about any car that hasn't got parts in leopard print. There's a lot of space, and the seat is comfortable underneath Gerard's poor frozen butt. There's a rosary hanging from the rearview mirror, the beads red and gold wrapped around another chain, which is just regular metal with a whole lot of guitar picks attached to it. It's surprising, and kind of endearing to Gerard. He really wouldn't have guessed he'd be religious, but the guitarist part, he doesn't know why he hasn't thought of sooner. He doesn't know why it seems so obvious now, despite his frame that seems like it would work better behind a drumset. Perhaps it's just because of how cliché it is to find the band's resident's douchebag wielding a six-string.
Iero catches him looking. "Not my car, technically." Not religious then? Gerard thinks. Iero's put it into reverse, turning to look behind him, an arm around the upper part of Gerard's seat. He doesn't continue until he's gotten out of the parking spot, hand landing on the gearshift. Even then, he only says, "There's an unopened water bottle in the back seat if you're thirsty."
"Thanks," Gerard says, muscles relaxing as the inside of the car is getting warmer. He shakes Iero's jacket off his shoulders - it feels wrong to keep wearing it. He doesn't know if it's the sudden distance in his voice or the smell that's driving him crazy. Both, probably. Gerard doesn't know if he can, or if he'd even want to do anything about it.
Once Iero takes a turn to make an exit into the street, his free hand digs out his Camels from his jeans' pocket. He pulls one out with his teeth and throws the pack into Gerard's lap. "Help yourself." Gerard would try to hide the gratitude spreading on his face a bit harder if Iero's eyes weren't so focused on the road. With the hand holding his freshly lit cigarette, he motions at the glove compartment. "I've got a few tapes in there if you wanna, y'know. Not sit in silence."
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You're So Dark (Frerard)
FanfictionIf he didn't know better, he'd say the guy is hardly even twenty-one. His face is just really soft in general, with a nose on the smaller side, eyes round and almost green in the stormy lighting. His eyebrows are arched only a slight bit, with a tin...
