.because you stop the noise

12Jan11 - .poison

January 12, 2011 - Los Angeles

Bert opens his eyes, one at a time. The bed smells like sleep and skin. He's perfectly okay with that cause the skin he smells belongs to the one he loves. They haven't been seeing much of each other lately. Not with all the touring. Bert's a little worried but he's not saying anything. They'd both learned to just be nicer to one another. If there wasn't an actual reason to kick and scream, then there was no point in making each other feel bad because of a feeling. It wasn't the same feeling he had before. He didn't feel like he was being lied to, just that he didn't know everything that was going on. Any idiot willing to stay with Bert for this long was either completely in love or too dumb to leave. And Gerard Way was not stupid, so Bert figured he must for some reason still love him.

But as much as Bert loved having a drinking buddy back. There was an itching in the back of his mind, wondering, worrying about why Gerard had started asking him for coke again. What was going on inside Gerard that he needed to bring the crazy back? There were other things too. The way he walked had changed. The way he sat, moved, spoke and carried himself. Bert couldn't tell anymore if this was just his boyfriend playing a character or if he was actually morphing into something new. Neither would surprise Bert. Gerard is... always changing.

Bert knew Gerard was gonna go through another one of his phases the moment he saw that look on his face during one of their movie nights. He'd become obsessed with post apocalyptic films and art. Bert found himself on the sofa tangled up with his boyfriend for nights in a row, watching everything Gerard could think of, from Blade Runner to Dark City. Storywise, those seemed to be his favorites. But visually... characterwise... Bert sensed Gerard was looking into other things. And it was confirmed the night they watched Strange Days. The scene where Juliette Lewis performs on stage, Gerard's whole face gave his feelings away. And for the first time in the 8 years of knowing him, Bert saw Gerard look at a woman like he wanted to fuck her.

And then if that wasn't enough of a mindfuck, Gerard actually spoke the words "Damn, that's so fuckin' hot." Bert who had already been looking at Gerard, could've been knocked over with a feather at that point. He asked Gerard what the fuck, but Gerard just pointed right at Juliette almost irritated that Bert hadn't immediately agreed with him. "Yeah yeah... super sexy. you know I toured with her right?" Which he did and he always thought she looked very similar to Lindsey. But Gerard didn't even seem interested in any of that. Bert realized it was less about Juliette and more about the scene and the silhouette of her under those lights.

The days that followed put Gerard in a weird state between aggitated and determined. For what, Bert had no idea. But he already knew that it was best just to stay out of Gerard's way when he got like that. He spent hours watching a combination of Strang Days and Tank Girl, sketchbook in hand and frantically scribbling down notes and drawings. Things Bert wasn't allowed to see yet. He was bleaching his hair, went vegetarian... again. Wearing shit Bert never would've imagined he'd ever have on his body and staying up all hours of the night.

None of this seemed like the smartest thing in the world since Gerard had already spent close to a year in studio. The album wasn't even finished yet and it seemed like his head was going in a completely different direction now. Talks of scrapping the album and starting fresh were in the air and Bert became worried his boyfriend was officially losing his mind. Or worse... looking for an excuse to stay away from home. But he tried not to think about that. Gerard became obsessed with his physical appearance in ways he never was before. He actually wanted to be looked at... which was weird. He'd do a few lines and want Bert to take photographs of him... doing things... explicit things... to himself... wearing all manners of borderline pornographic outfits. Their sex was different. Wilder, louder, excessive. Gerard moved differently in bed too.

The eccentric singer had found new addictions and was bringing it home to Bert who, at first was just excited. Gerard's energy was unnerving but intoxicating and just as addictive. Bert was in a fucking whirlwind with him again and like any addict, just used it as an excuse to go harder, fall deeper down the rabbithole with his lover.

But then the new album was done and Gerard introduced his character to the world. Things made more sense then... until Bert realized that this crazy creature whom he lived with would now have to go out on the road for months on end and take all their addictions with them. Party Poison was going on tour. And for a second there Bert felt like he was living in a nightmare. The number of times he'd wanted to pick up the phone and say "Get your goddamn mouth away from Frank Iero." Or "Will you stop fucking moaning like a whore on stage!?" was replaced by Bert just rather having another bottle of Jack and a few lines of coke until MCR took their little breaks and Gerard came home to his boyfriend.

Which is where he was now after the previous night of practically ripping Bert's clothes off the moment he walked into their home. Not even giving them time to get fucked up together first. Gerard was clearly fucked up all on his own. He attacked Bert like some kind of animal in the jungle. It was violent. Asking to be smacked and choked and torn apart. This was not Bert's boyfriend, this was something else entirely.

Bert lay there, waking up sober for the first time in a long time, wondering why his eyes worked perfectly. The flame of Gerard's red hair now brighter than it ever was, stuck to his milky neck from the sweat and christ knows what else. Bert's eyes fell over his shoulderblades, his spine and his hand reached out to trace the lines of his body, he moved the covers lower to expose more skin. The dip of his waist that went up to his hip bone. There was less of him than there ever was before. Bert hadn't realized until now just how skinny his lover had become. Worry hit him like a freight train as he felt Gerard's ribcage beneath his touch. The older man didn't move. The only evidence Bert had that Gerard was even alive was the sound of his struggled breath. Sinus problems isn't helped by cocaine, that's for sure. But Bert was used to Gerard's nose issues. The sound of his light snoring was more of a comfort than anything else.

It was when the sound stopped that Bert realized Gerard must've woken up. He said nothing; Just looked on as his lover's ribcage expanded with a deep breath in and the sound of it's release. Then the faint low sound of his cracked voice. "I did something."

Bert froze, breath stolen from his chest and his hand automatically retracted from Gerard's skin as his voice came out as a whimper, speaking to the back of Gerard's neck, "Frank?"

"No."