The Man I Know I'm Not [Frerard] (Sequel To Tell Me I'm A Bad Man)

Twenty-four - My One Regret Is You

Gerard's smile faded slowly, turning even more into a frown the further away he drove. His hands tightened on the steering wheel, his face draining of color, and after an hour and a half he pulled up at a gas station, even though there was a decent amount of gas in the car.

He disappeared for twenty minutes, and I tried calling him, only to find that he'd left his phone in the car. When he returned, his eyes were bloodshot and ringed with red, and he was holding a coffee in a styrofoam cup. He climbed into the car, wiping his nose on his sleeve, and put the cup in a holder that sat between us.

"Hey," I said, placing my hand on his arm just as he was about to start the car. "are you okay?"

He nodded, refusing to look at me. "I'm fine."

"Bullshit."

"It doesn't matter, Frank." He started the car. "Not anymore."

He took a deep breath before driving, a shaky hand turning up the radio and letting it fill the car. I didn't know if it was to drown out his thoughts, but it wasn't drowning out mine, and I wanted to cry myself. Of course I couldn't - maybe I had no tears left, maybe I was too done to cry. I didn't know. I didn't care. I just wanted sleep and my boyfriend.

"Remember when we talked about running away?" He said after a while, out of the blue.

"I wanted you to take me up on that. I really wanted to run away with you."

I counted eight seconds before he replied. "I wish we'd just done it. We wouldn't be in this mess now if we had, would we?"

He reached over and took my hand as I shrugged. "Ryan might still have died. That was out of our control."

"True...but I wouldn't have taken that fucking job in New York and I wouldn't have let Bert fucking stay with us and I wouldn't have fucking started fucking drinking again and -"

"Easy on the swearing, there." I said, and the corner of his mouth rose, causing mine to rise in return.

"Fuck you." He retorted, and I rolled my eyes.

"Don't get ahead of yourself."

"Oh, I won't."

There was silence after that, until he pulled up outside a small motel and pressed a kiss to the back of my hand.

"I love you." He said, and I faked a smile.

"We'll see." I replied, before following him up to a room.

Almost the second the door was closed, his hand weaved into my hair and he brushed his lips against mine. "Can I kiss you?"

Truthfully, I really wanted him to kiss me. I wanted him to pin me to the bed and fuck me. I wanted to fuck him. I wanted to lie with him beneath the sheets and touch his body and fall asleep. I wanted to hold his hand and have him squeeze it and I wanted to just lie there with him. I wanted him to be Gerard and I wanted to be Frank, and I actually wanted him to be Mr Way, art teacher, because things were so much easier like that.

"Yes, Mr Way." I whispered, and I saw the flicker of a smile before he crushed his lips to mine, making me weak at the knees and jelly-like all over again.

He picked me up, letting me wrap my legs around his waist as my back hit the wall. A low moan sounded at the back of his throat, his body pressing into mine, his hands secure on my thighs. He smelled all warm and like cigarettes and I tangled my fingers in his hair because I didn't know when I'd get to do this again. And I loved him, I really did. More than anything.