"I prefer not to call it a leg."
Gerard Way was a comic book loving, rock music listening, skirt wearing, shameless guy, until there was a flash and a bang. He refused to wear anything revealing his legs with the exception of therapy days.
And then there was Frank Iero. Jersey's punk kid who played guitars for a living and screamed and moaned into a microphone. The guy people would recognize on the streets and spit at. One day, there's a flash and a bang and he's suddenly in a hospital, as he had been many times as a kid.
Frank thought Gerard was absolutely perfect with his delicate words and shoulder-length strands despite his insecurities and so-called "imperfections." Gerard though Frank was absolutely flawless with his pretty eyes, jet black hair, and colorfully inked skin.
"I prefer not to call it a leg."
"I prefer not to call you beautiful. That's an understatement."
(I suck at writing descriptions, oops. Also, this story is written in first person, but the description is third. It's weird, I know, but you gotta deal with it. *shrugs*)