𝕚 𝕙𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕘𝕖𝕖 {𝕗𝕣𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕣𝕕}

Go buy yourself a motivation

Was this normal? Probably not, but what about Frank Iero was normal? Gerard rolled over onto his side and stared at his alarm clock. No way it was already 1:35, it simply wasn't possible. Everything about the past week had been impossible though.

Last Saturday Gerard had screwed Frank.

Last Sunday he had waited anxiously for Frank to call him.

By Tuesday he had given up on the boy.

Friday? By Friday had decided to vehemently hate the lying, manipulative, gorgeous, sex-driven fuck-nut known as Frank Iero. Or Frank Anthony Priccilo Iero Jr. if you want to get specific. Yes Gerard had stalked him on Wikipedia but it's not like anyone knows that.

He deleted his browser history.

But why hadn't Frank called? Was he okay? Did he need bail money? Was he dead in a ditch on the side of the interstate? Or, worst of all, was the sex bad? With each possibility he felt his self-esteem lower another increment. Why had frank not called?

No. Gerard needed to get a hold of himself. If Frank was just going to use him for a one-night stand, then frank could use him for a one-night stand.

Gerard was totally over it. Frank was an asshole nothing more nothing less.

Sighing the boy stood up letting his spine make weird pop-ing noises before he moved quietly into the hallway; letting the soft carpet muffle his steps as he crept into the kitchen.

"Good morning Gerard! You're up early." With a gasp he whirled to face the other male in the room. Pete Wentz. Dear lord if heaven up above this tiny little man had nearly given Gerard a heart attack in his kitchen.

What an elegant way to die. In your boxers at 2 a.m talking to your brothers boyfriend in the kitchen.

"Why the fuck are you in my house." No wait that's not what Gerard meant to say. 'Hi' was the proper response; wasn't it? But Pete didn't seem fazed by Gee's rude greeting, he just smiled.

"On my way out actually. Can you try and talk a little quieter Gerald? You might wake-up Mikey." Gerald? Did this punk-ass bitch just call me Gerald?!

I glared at him and nodded tightly. He smiled softy. "Thanks. Can you tell him... Never mind I'll text him when he's awake. Bye." And then he was slipping out the backdoor.

Why can't I have one of those? A nice boy he smiles like that and is sweet and sensitive and thinks about my feelings? Why can't Frank just fucking call me like a normal person? Gerard turned back towards the stairs.

It was too early for this shit.