Famous Last Words || FRERARD

6

P.E. class: Loved by your GPA and hated by all. It was easily everyone's least favorite class, but it was a requirement at Belleville high, so people typically just sucked it up and did it.

Frank did that exactly, even though he got winded even just walking up a flight of stairs. He ran out of the locker room with the rest of the class, trying to ignore the shorts that showed his thighs and the slightly too tight shirt. Nobody else really seemed to notice, which he thanked his lucky stars for, but he just couldn't keep his mind off it. What if people did notice that his thighs were a little too big or that he actually had hips or that his chest was a little too big for a regular guy? With any luck, they'd probably just think he was fat.

"ALRIGHT. GATHER UP, PEASANTS!" The teacher yelled, every student except Frank gathering into a huddle instinctively. The loud-mouthed teacher was your stereotypical P.E. teacher; polos, khaki shorts, sneakers, receding hairline and probably the kind of guy who got off on being called "coach" by his students. "That means you too, Mr. Iero and Mr. Way."

Frank walked closer to the group, not quite joining and not bothering to look back. Gerard walked over to the group, trench coat and all, looking cocky as ever. He smirked at the teacher, flipping the middle-aged man off as he pointed to the bleachers. Gerard walked over to them and sat down, leaning back and pulling out his phone. He knew the teacher didn't have the ability to give him detention in this class, so he used that to his advantage, of course. He was smart like that. There was no way in hell he was taking any of this off and wearing that dumbass gym outfit.

"Anyway, TWENTY LAPS RIGHT NOW GO GO GO."

'Twenty

Fucking

Laps

No fucking way'

Groaning, Frank started on his laps, already a few paces behind the rest of the group. He passed by Gerard once, glaring at him while he just kept texting on his phone. Two, three, four times, Frank passed the other and each time, his lungs got more and more achy. It felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest and it was just making itself more and more comfortable. Goddamn, did it hurt like hell. Actually, hell probably hurts less than this.

'Jesus fuck. What did you expect, Frank? You've got a death trap around your ribs. It's never gonna feel good, especially when you're running. Just keep running!'

And he did as his internal voice told him, pushing aside all thoughts of pain or worry and just running. Just keep running. Just keep running.

X X X X X X X X X

Gee: P.E. class fucking sucks. How do you normally deal with this?

Moikey: I don't. I get out of it for my knees, remember?
Gee: No fair! Sign me up for skipping!

Moikey: I don't think having anxiety is enough of a pass for Coach

Gee: What an asshole

Moikey: Go back to class. You don't need to fail this too

Gee: Oh shut it, Moikey

'What idiots. Do they really think running is gonna do anything?'

In fact, running wouldn't do them any good now or later. Gerard had tried running before and fuck, it didn't do anything at all. His parents constantly told him to lose weight but no matter what he tried, he was always just...chubby. Thank god for a trench coat and an oversized shirt or fuck, he probably would've shot himself a long time ago.

Locking his phone, he returned it and looked around until his eyes fell on Iero. That asshole was coughing and wheezing like there's no tomorrow. How pathetic. The entire group had probably lapped him at least four or five times by now. What, did he have asthma or something? He did have tiny lungs, being so incredibly fun-sized, so it makes sense. What a little mouse.

And, in true weakling fashion, Iero passes out. Gerard stood up, instantly worried about the other. But then he sat back down, watching the other students kicking the collapsed body on the ground.

'Why should I worry about him? He's just a dickhead.... who probably doesn't get it. He just got here, so how could he know. The least I could do is....Goddamnit, they're gonna kill him. Fuck it. I'll just scare him away once he's safe.'

In a blur of black, he ran across the gymnasium and scooped up the other in his arms. Iero was surprisingly light, so carrying him to the boy's locker room was an easy task. Gerard gently set the other down on a bench, walking over to the mirror to check his makeup while he waited for the other to wake up.

But he didn't wake up.

Instead, he just coughed a few times, wheezing more and more with each breath.

'Okay. That does NOT sound good.'

He briskly walked over to the sleeping figure, pressing the side of his head to the other's chest. He could hear the heartbeat, but it sounded a little too muffled. Which meant he was wearing something underneath.

Now, normally, Gerard would've put the 'No-homo principle' into effect, but fuck, Frank could die. This was more important than upholding a heteronormative illusion.

Gerard gently lifted up Frank's shirt and bit his lip, trying not to get psyched out. Frank was wearing something underneath, but that was absolutely none of Gerard's business. All he had to do was loosen it and be done.

"God-fucking-damnit. How do these fucking things work?" He rolled Frank gently to one side, spotting a few little hooks going up the undershirt-looking thingy. "Here goes nothing." He unhooked each one carefully and Frank gasped, unwaking but clearly improving. He sat up and coughed, Gerard jumping back and taking a few deep breaths himself. Frank looked down at his chest, yelping and pulling his shirt down.

"DUDE WHAT THE FUCK?"

"I WAS JUST TRYING TO HELP. YOU DIED OR SOME SHIT AND I HAD TO LOOSEN THAT DEATH TRAP ON YOUR CHEST."

"IT'S CALLED A BINDER YOU FUCKING IDIOT."

"WHY ARE YOU WEARING A BINDER?"

"CAUSE I HAVE TITTIES YOU FUCKING PERV."

Aaaand silence. Frank sighed in frustration, standing up and walking into a stall to fix his binder. Gerard looked away in respect, blushing bright red and covering his eyes.

"I'm trans. This 'death trap' is a binder." Frank walked out of the stall, his binder and shirt back in place and he sighed. "Just...please don't tell anyone. You can pick on me all you want for any other shit just please, please don't about this."

Gerard's heart melted like butter at the pleading look in Frank's eyes. Sighing softly, Gerard crossed his arms and looked away again, this time trying to avoid the gaze of the other.

"Fine. I won't. Just...don't be such an easy target. Or fight back. It's kind of embarrassing to pick on someone who just kind of gives in." Frank snickered, covering his mouth and trying to hold it back, but it just turned into a full-on laugh.

"Oh my god. Does this mean you're doing the whole 'I pick on you because I like you' thing? Oh. My. God!" Gerard blushed once again and Frank laughed even harder, slapping his knee and doubling over from the fit of giggles. "Oh man. You really got it bad for me, don't you?"

"Aaaand this is what I get for saving your life." Gerard walked out of the locker room, blushing redder than a tomato and smiling ever so slightly. Of course, he would deny all of this to Mikey later, as Frank would to his mother, but when they were smiling at the ceiling around three in the morning, they couldn't even deny it to themselves.

Maybe they had a little bit of a crush.