I lost my fear of falling || frerard fanfic

Chapter 4: turmoil

Frank closed the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment. The silence of the house wrapped around him, giving him space to breathe. His mom was still at work, and that was a relief—he wasn't in the mood to answer any questions or pretend everything was fine. Not after the day he'd had.

He tossed his backpack onto the couch and headed to the kitchen, grabbing another soda from the fridge. His thoughts were still tangled in knots, and no matter how much he tried to push Gerard out of his head, he couldn't. Gerard was everywhere—at school, in his nightmares, even in the back of his mind when he was just trying to focus on anything else.

Frank let out a frustrated sigh as he sat down at the kitchen table, the can of soda unopened in his hand. The truth was, he could handle most things. He'd dealt with bullies before, people who thought they could push him around because he was a little smaller, a little quieter. But Gerard? Gerard wasn't just a bully.

He didn't just hit. He lingered. The way his eyes stayed on Frank too long, how he always found some excuse to get close, to invade Frank's space—it was different. It was messing with Frank's head in ways he didn't want to admit.

Especially because Frank knew what it meant. He knew why it bothered him so much, why Gerard's smirks, his taunts, even his punches made his stomach twist in more ways than one.

Frank liked guys. He had for as long as he could remember, though it wasn't something he'd ever been vocal about. It wasn't safe to be vocal about that in their school, where people like Gerard could smell weakness and used it to their advantage.

Mikey was the only one who knew, and Frank trusted him with that secret. They'd had that conversation late one night after a few too many beers, sitting on Mikey's roof and talking about life, about how messed up everything was. Mikey hadn't even blinked when Frank told him—just nodded, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Frank had been grateful for that.

But Gerard didn't know. And there was no way Frank was going to let him find out.

He rubbed the back of his neck, the memory of Gerard's fist connecting with his jaw still fresh. He didn't understand why Gerard was acting like this, why it felt so... personal. Sure, Gerard was messed up. Mikey had told him as much, and Frank had seen it himself. Gerard's whole life had been spiraling since their dad died, and maybe picking fights with Frank was just another way for him to cope.

But then there were those moments, the ones that made Frank's heart race in ways it shouldn't—the way Gerard's gaze would linger, the almost imperceptible pauses between his insults. Like Gerard was trying to say something else, something neither of them could quite put into words.

And it terrified Frank. Because he knew what he wanted it to be, and that made everything so much worse.

Frank buried his face in his hands, letting out a groan. How had things gotten so complicated? He didn't want to like Gerard—he didn't want to feel anything for him at all. Gerard was cruel, unpredictable, and dangerous. And yet, here Frank was, sitting in his kitchen, obsessing over him like some lovesick idiot.

The knock at the door startled him. Frank stood, walking over and pulling it open just enough to see Mikey on the other side.

"Hey," Mikey said, a little out of breath, like he'd hurried back after dropping Frank off. He fidgeted with the strap of his backpack, looking anxious. "Can I come in?"

Frank nodded, stepping aside to let him in. Mikey wandered over to the couch, dropping his bag next to Frank's before collapsing onto the cushions. Frank closed the door and joined him, sitting on the other end of the couch.

"You sure you're okay?" Mikey asked after a long pause, pushing his glasses up his nose. "You seemed... off earlier."

Frank leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "I don't know, man. I just—" He cut himself off, trying to find the words. Mikey already knew most of it, but Frank wasn't sure he was ready to say the rest.

Mikey looked over at him, frowning. "It's Gerard, isn't it?"

Frank let out a sharp laugh. "Isn't it always?"

"Yeah, but..." Mikey hesitated, his gaze softening. "This is different, right?"

Frank swallowed hard, feeling the tension in his chest tighten. Mikey was perceptive—he always had been—and Frank knew he couldn't keep dodging the truth forever. Not with Mikey.

"You think he knows?" Frank asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mikey's expression shifted, his eyes narrowing in thought. "Knows what?"

"About me." Frank's voice cracked on the last word, and he immediately hated how vulnerable he sounded. "That I'm—"

Mikey shook his head quickly. "No. No way. Gerard's messed up, but he's not that kind of messed up. If he knew, he wouldn't..." Mikey trailed off, biting his lip.

Frank exhaled slowly, relief washing over him, but it was quickly followed by the familiar dread. "I just don't get why he's always picking on me. It's not like I'm the only guy at school who's... you know. Why me?"

Mikey shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair. "Honestly? I think Gerard's got his own shit going on. I don't think this is about you. Or, well... not in the way you're thinking."

Frank glanced at him, feeling a knot of confusion in his stomach. "What do you mean?"

Mikey hesitated, his brow furrowed in thought. "Look, I don't know for sure, okay? But I've noticed... the way Gerard looks at you sometimes. It's not hate. Not really." He paused, looking at Frank carefully. "It's more complicated than that."

Frank's heart skipped a beat. He knew what Mikey was hinting at, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. The idea that Gerard might... no. It was too absurd.

"Gerard's not..." Frank started, but the words caught in his throat.

Mikey just shrugged. "I don't know, Frank. But it wouldn't surprise me if he's just as confused about all this as you are."

Frank's head was spinning. Gerard Way, the guy who'd punched him, shoved him into lockers, made his life hell—could he really feel anything other than contempt?

And more importantly, did Frank even want him to?

The weight of everything was suddenly too much, and Frank slumped back against the couch. "What am I supposed to do, Mikey?"

Mikey shook his head slowly. "I don't know, man. But whatever's going on with Gerard, you've gotta look out for yourself first. Just... don't let him drag you down with him."

Frank nodded, though the uncertainty still gnawed at him. Gerard was a storm, and Frank was already caught in the winds. He just didn't know if he'd survive it.