you know what they do to guys like us in prison

kisses and deaths

As I wake, I see that Gerard has gone. Perfect. I felt a little sorry for the man; surely it must be hell to spend every waking hour with a criminal. I don't know if he has family, or friends. I try to convince myself I don't care.

I fish in my pocket for a sharp strand of wire. I push one of the two chairs in the cell under the handle of the door and form a noose of sorts with it. Starvation is taking too long. They must have CCTV in my room, because I hear footsteps thundering down the corridor from outside. But what can they do? Nothing, now.

The wire is sharp. I put it over my head so it encircles my neck. There is someone outside my door, now. They bang their fists against it, fruitlessly.

"Frank!' FRANK!" It's Gerard. The wire kisses my scorpion tattoo, and the scissors. I prepare to pull it tight.

"PLEASE, FRANK. LET ME IN! IT'S ME. FUCK FRANK, YOU ARE NOT DOING THIS, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" I don't turn to the slot in the door that Gerard is screaming through. The chair gives just as I am about to sever my windpipe. The door burst open and strong hands snap the wire in two. He stands over me, blood seeping from his palms, panting. I am trapped in his steely gaze.

He leans forward and kisses my lips. I fall into his welcoming arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

"You can't do this to me, Frankie. You can't do this to yourself." I feel hot tears that aren't my own splash on my cheek. He pulls back after a second, as if he realizes what he's done. His hands have stopped bleeding, the cuts only superficial.

"You kissed me." I touch my lips. "I would have thought you would be married. Or at least straight."

In truth it was to prove something.

"I wanted to kiss you since I walked through that door for the first time. And no" Gerard smiles. "I'm not married." He sits on the bed and beckons me silently. I feel as if I am about to be reprimanded, and sure enough, as soon as I am seated Gerard knocks me under him and he crouches over me, our faces inches apart.

"How dare you, Frank Iero." There is venom in his breath. "I want you to tell me why you would attempt that." I try to look anywhere but that pair of hazel eyes. "Look at me. Look at me. Now, tell me why you would try and do that."

"I'm dangerous. I'm a killer. No one cares." A lump forms in my throat. It is painful, throbbing emotion condensed into one spot.

"No one cares? Dammit Frank, I care. I care. I have respected you, bent myself over backwards to get to you. They wanted to kill you, you know. But I wouldn't let them." I didn't know that.

"You're not all I have. Without you, my world will go on turning. But I wouldn't want it to. I have friends, family." He sighs and lets me sit up. He takes me in his arms and comforts me, and leaves a fleeting kiss on my forehead. He brushes a few red strands of hair behind his ear. He checks his watch.

"I have to go, Frankie. I just added a client to my daily schedule, one who needs me. I need to keep up with the others."

"Oh" I say. I feel empty. I don't like the thought of sharing him.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He scoops up the wire, and leaves. I sit quietly, my arms wrapped around my knees. All I could think about was the brush of his lips against mine, the spark of electricity that zapped through my veins.