Teach Me How to Love Again (Sequel to Dirty Little Secret)

Chapter 72: You're Never Facing Them Alone Again

*~(The title of this chapter is from Maya the Psychic by Gerard Way.)~*

It was about 6:00 PM when Gerard and I woke up from our post-sex nap. He yawned and smiled at me. "Mornin'," he mumbled, then he slightly sat up to kiss my forehead.

"It's 6:00 PM. It's not morning," I giggled, then I felt my stomach growl. "All that sex worked up an appetite. I'm starving," I whined.

Gerard laughed slightly. "You're so cute," he remarked, placing another gentle kiss to my forehead. "Making dinner was the next thing on my list. I knew the sex would be amazing enough to work up an appetite," he laughed.

"Eh, it was okay sex, I guess," I joked.

He faked a gasp. "How dare you! You know I rock your world," he retorted.

"You're okay, I guess."

"You screaming my name said otherwise. Plus, during foreplay, you pulled my hair and pressed my head against you so I wouldn't pull my tongue out of you. That was a nice ego boost."

"Fine, maybe it was amazing," I finally gave in. He laughed and pecked my lips.

"I knew you loved it," he said with a smirk. "You must have been pretty great, because I'm really fucking hungry too."

"I didn't do anything. I wasn't great."

"You don't have to do anything. It just feels really good to be inside you," he shrugged. "Can I go make dinner now? I'm starving," he whined.

"Fine, but I don't wanna go downstairs. I'm sleepy," I whined.

"I'll carry you downstairs, but you need to get dressed, or I might get the urge for a round two," he laughed.

"I don't wanna get dressed. I'm comfy," I whined. "It's too hot in here for clothes," I remarked, and I wasn't lying. Summers in California were very hot, and the air conditioning in Gerard's house didn't seem to combat the heat well enough.

"Well, you're not wrong. It is hot in here. Just wear something that isn't warm."

"I don't know what to wear," I complained dramatically.

"Just wear your shirt and panties."

"Ugh, that's boring."

"Do you wanna wear my clothes? Are those comfy for you or something?"

I nodded enthusiastically. "Your clothes are comfy and they smell nice."

"What do you wanna wear? I don't know what won't be too warm."

I shrugged. "I dunno."

"You can wear a pair of my boxers if you want. They're really comfy."

I crinkled up my nose in mostly-fake disgust. "Gross."

He laughed. "So you'll suck me off, but you're disgusted by wearing a clean pair of my underwear as comfy shorts? You're so weird," he joked.

"Fine. I'll wear the fucking boxers."

He chuckled, before he stood up to grab some clothes from his dresser for me. I took this opportunity to sneak a quick peek at his bare butt. Damn, he had a nice ass. Now I noticed the light scratches that I had left on his back. They were long -- spanning from his shoulder blades to his butt.

"Babe, did I hurt you?" I asked, chuckling awkwardly.

"What do you mean?"

"Your back. I guess I scratched the hell out if it."

He shrugged, and he chuckled. "I kind of like the scratches. They remind me of how I rock your world," he stated cockily. "Now, stop staring at my ass. I know it's great, but that's no reason to stare at it."

I giggled. "You're so cocky."

He laughed. "Anyway, what do you wanna wear?"

"I don't care. Pick whatever."

"You can wear my Misfits shirt. It's comfy," he told me.

He came back to bed and handed me the clothes. I slipped on the shirt and boxers, and he smiled at me. "You look so adorable in my clothes."

I felt my cheeks heat up at the compliment. "I love you."

"I love you too," he said. He was about to kiss me when his phone rang. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he checked who it was. When he saw who it was, he answered it and sat on the bed next to me.

I couldn't hear who was speaking on the other line very well, but I could tell it was a woman, and I heard the things Gerard said.

"Yes, I'll do it. I just haven't had the time yet," he huffed. "I'm not gonna do it today! I'm trying to do nice things for Sky today! I'm not gonna ruin our good day by doing that!" he protested. "I'll do it tomorrow."

He talked for a while longer before they finally said goodbye, and he ended the call.

"Who was that?" I asked, a bit paranoid.

"It was Chantal. She asked when I'm gonna see my therapist," he sighed, looking slightly sad and embarrassed.

"What's wrong?" I asked, slightly concerned.

"I just... I think you deserve better. You deserve somebody who can treat you like you deserve without seeing a therapist about it. You deserve someone who doesn't need a therapist to make sure they won't hurt you. You deserve someone who's not an angry alcoholic, because Chantal's right; I'm gonna hurt you if I don't see my therapist. It'll either be because of withdrawals, or a relapse, but either way, I can't control my anger. I'll take it out on you, and that's not okay. I don't want you to be afraid anymore. I've seen you afraid of me. I've seen that short panic on your face that happens when I even sit next to you sometimes. I've seen the pure terror in your eyes as you start crying when I yell at you. These are things I'd rather not see again. You deserve better."

"I don't want anyone else. I only want you. You're the only man I love. You're the only man I've ever fallen in love with. I love you! You're very attractive, and you're the sweetest man ever when you're not drunk. We all have flaws, Gerard. Your alcoholism doesn't define you. I still love you, and that will never stop. I'm immature and petty, but you still love me, right? We overlook each other's flaws, because we love each other. You're perfect to me, even with your flaws."

"Sky?" he asked after some silence.

"Hmm?"

"I'm scared," he admitted, and this surprised me. He had never been this open with his emotions. Especially not with fear. He always acted super tough, like he had no fear. This was the first time he had admitted to being afraid, and it broke my heart. He sounded like a scared little boy instead of my usual fearless, somewhat-cocky boyfriend. I looked up at him, and I noticed that his eyes were beginning to water. The fact he was crying broke my heart even more.

"Why are you scared?"

"I'm scared to go to therapy. That's the real reason I haven't gone yet. It's not because I didn't have the time, it's because I'm scared. I'm scared I'm not gonna get better. What if the therapist can't fix this? What if I'm a shitty boyfriend and an alcoholic for the rest of our lives? I don't wanna hurt you," he cried. Now his watery eyes and short sniffles had turned into full-on crying.

"Gerard, you're gonna get better. Everyone is here for you. We love you. You're gonna get better, and we'll all help. I believe in you, and I love you too much to let you keep destroying yourself. I'm with you now. You're never gonna face your demons alone again," I reassured genuinely, then I used my thumb to gently wipe the tears that were running down his cheeks. After he had stopped crying, I placed a light kiss to his nose.

"I love you so much," he muttered as my lips left his face.

"I love you too," I whispered. "Now, let's go start that dinner. I'm starving," I giggled.

He laughed and followed me off to the kitchen.