⭐a little like elvis // gerard way wwii au

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IT'S TOO DAMN COLD OUT, you thought, drawing your unfortunately thin coat around yourself

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IT'S TOO DAMN COLD OUT, you thought, drawing your unfortunately thin coat around yourself. It was only late September, but the air had a bite to it that spoke of winter. As you crossed the busy city road, you spied a bar sign: MOONLIGHT COVE, it said. The words AIR RAID SHELTER were under it in smaller capitals. You looked up at the night sky where the moon should have been, but smoky clouds veiled any chance it could have got.


Something always seemed to be burning these days.

Eyeing the bar again, you shrugged to yourself and decided to duck in. It had to have something that would warm you up. As you neared the entrance, a group of four men dressed in suits were doing the same. All but one carried instrument cases on their backs. A few of them smiled at you, and you politely returned the gesture, not really looking at any of them until the one without an instrument opened the door for you. His thick black hair was combed neatly back, topping big hazel eyes and round, handsome features. "Thanks," you managed, and he smiled at you. Something in his smile reminded you of someone you had seen before, but you couldn't quite remember who. In any case, there was a perfectly fine-looking man in front of you to admire.

You entered, expecting a cloud of dingy smoke that danced around intoxicated individuals dancing around each other. However, you were surprised to find a quite respectable-looking establishment. Candles were grouped together around the windows and tables, and the bar stood close to a small, clean stage. A man in a black dress shirt was adjusting a silver microphone. The men who had entered with you made their way past you onto the stage, and the man who had held the door for you began talking quietly with the man already onstage. You realized that they must be the entertainment for the night.

After a few minutes, they finished setting up, and the one who had held the door for you began speaking into the mic. "Hello, everyone," he said, and was met with a small chorus of hellos back. His voice was soft, smooth, slightly high-and it made your chest tingle with how adorable it sounded. "We are My Chemical Romance, and we hope to put on a show for you tonight." His eyes met yours as he finished, and his mouth dropped open a little as he realized you were smiling expectantly up at him. He looked away from you, blushing, and nodded at his bandmates behind him. They started with a tune that seemed to twist and turn joyously, and your heart nearly stopped when you heard the man begin to sing. He was unbelievable, his mouth shaping every word uniquely, his face changing as he surrendered to the music.

The group performed for about two hours, and the cider you had ordered was left nearly untouched as you listened raptly. The singer made eye contact with you every few minutes, causing your cheeks to burn with delight. As the last song came to a close and the singer greeted the applause with a smile, you rose to your feet and whistled loudly. He turned his head in your direction when he heard you and smiled shyly before bowing and helping his bandmates get their things off stage.

A few minutes later, his voice came from beside you. "Hi," he said softly.

"Hi, " you beamed. "You are absolutely amazing!" He blushed and looked down.

"I love doing it, and I have great friends to perform with," he said, looking over at the rest of the group who were conspicuously sitting at a table across the room. A shorter man with long hair was motioning toward the two of you, only to be smacked on the arm by a man with curly hair when he noticed the two of you looking their way. You giggled, turning back to the man who was finishing rolling his eyes. He looked at your drink, his brow furrowing cutely.

"That can't still be warm," he said, concerned. "Let me buy you another one."

"Oh, no, I couldn't let you d-"

"I insist," he smiled, already waving a staff member over.

The two of you talked for a long time, long after the other members of the band had left for other things. You learned about Gerard, as he introduced himself, and the band he was in. He also listened intently to you talk about your life and dreams. The two of you had hit it off instantly, feeling as if you had known each other for much longer than you really had. You were only brought back to the real world when a waiter tapped you on the shoulder and apologetically told you that it was closing time.

Gerard held the door for you again as you stepped into the late-night air. You shivered instinctively, and, without thinking, he wrapped you into his arms. He felt warm and strong, and the rhythm of his breathing ignited something in your own. After several moments, you pulled away, body shuddering at both the cold and loss of contact.

"I truly loved meeting you tonight," Gerard said, voice still soft.

"Me too," you smiled up at him. "I had a wonderful time." You shivered again, and he unwound his scarf from his neck.

"Take this," he said. "It might help."

"I can't possibly do that," you protested. "You won't be able to wear it."

"Well, then," he grinned, "I suppose I'll just get it from you next time we meet up."

Smooth, you thought, speechless. He hugged you again and watched you walk away with your contact information held worshipfully in his hand. And as you remembered his smile as you walked, you finally figured out who he reminded you of.

He almost looked a little like Elvis.

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