A Bullet Through A Flock Of Doves

Three - He's Always Looking At Men

 Frank sighed as he was pushed back into his cell, mumbling a soft, "Fuck you," at the guards after they were a safe distance away.

He heard an exhale of breath a few feet away and his head snapped up, freezing when he saw another person in the cell.

The other man was so pale his skin almost seemed to glow under the poor lighting. In contrast, his hair was long and ragged and black, framing his somewhat feminine face messily. Curious hazel eyes blinked at him from under dark brows, and they seemed to glitter a little with veins of gold and green, looking over Frank and making him the slightest bit... uncomfortable.

"Who're you?" he snapped, standing his ground and staring at the newcomer. He hadn't seem him in the prison before, but then again, there were hundreds of inmates.

But Frank had been there for four years. Not a lot of people escaped his notice.

"Gerard Way, condemned to die," the man proclaimed, lowering his brows a little. "And I'd assume you're the Frank Iero."

Frank raised an eyebrow. "'The' Frank Iero?"

Gerard rolled his eyes. "So they call you."

He sort of grinned. "So I have a reputation. That's good to know."

"Yes, a reputation as a whore."

Frank's eyes darkened and he took a step forward. The man looked amused.

"Don't fucking mess with me," he growled, his eyes narrowing.

"Of course," said Gerard, raising his hands up in mock surrender and smirking, "I'm terrified to 'mess with' a tiny, tattooed kid who apparently plans to have intercourse with me.

Frank's eyes widened in disbelief. Was he for real? Did he not understand that this was a prison and people actually fought back?

"Again- don't fucking mess with me. Because I guarantee you'll regret it." Frank's lip curled upward a little in a grim smile, thinking of what he'd done to others who had gotten in his way.

"I'm sure I will," he said, still with that expression like Frank was fucking humoring him or something.

Then, before Frank could attack him or... or something, he pointed to the bunk beds and said, "Can I have the bottom bunk?"

Frank sneered. "That one is taken." Actually, he slept on the top bunk, but...

Gerard smirked again. "Great. I wanted the top."

Frank glared at him as he climbed the metal ladder and settled into the bed, stretching luxuriously and looking at Frank with innocent eyes.

"I'd really like to smash your skull in right about now."

Gerard closed his eyes and smiled. "Ah, but you wouldn't."

"How d'you know? Inmates have died here. This isn't some joke, you bastard. It's a high security prison, and right now, you're in death row. You're going to die."

Gerard made a soft noise that was almost like... laughter.

He was laughing, what the fuck.

"I'm not going to die," he said in a high giggle.

Frank could have screamed. Not another one of these psycho stupid freaks. "You're going to die, get over yourself."

"Everybody dies eventually, Frankie dear."

If Frank wanted to bash his skull in before, now, he wanted to blow him up.

"Don't fucking call me that."

"Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry, Frankie dear."

Frank was seething.