His Personal (Lover) Assistant

Imagine Home. When I say the word ‘home,’ what comes to your mind? Maybe a house, with your parents in it, a messy bedroom, cookies down in the kitchen, no matter what. Maybe an apartment, the size of a box, that you live in with just your mom or dad. Or maybe just something none of us would know about. Maybe that’s where you feel at home.

When I hear the word home, I picture a state. And not just any state, but Jersey. Because Jersey, in truth, is my home. For the most part, I grew up there. I went to school there, and I got in trouble there. And I missed it, all the time.

Most obviously, whenDouche Gerard proposed I went to Jersey with him, my immediate instinct was yes, just for the fact that it was a free ride and board to my home.

But now I dread it.

It’s not because of D—Gerard, or because I can’t stand his presence anymore. Really, he’s kind of a good guy, somewhere underneath all his tough act shit. But, I was afraid of what his parents would say. I was afraid of what would go down.

And damn, I was afraid Gerard would cry.

You’re laughing, I know it. And I probably would be to, had it been someone else. But picture Gerard in your mind. This guy who’s never once became emotional in front of you, up until just two days ago. Picture this guy, who’s not afraid to tell the truth, who probably never cries in front of anybody, at any time.

But he and his grandmother were close. I know this because it’s in every interview, on every news channel, and in every paper, and magazine there ever was an article about him. It’s easy to remember the simple things like that. Besides, you have to have the dirt on your boss when you’re his personal assistant.

“You ready?” D—Gerard asked me, as I shut the computer down at the office. I made a mental note to really stop calling him Douche in my head, seeing as we’re getting along right now, and one slip of the tongue could send the whole damn thing off track, and that’s not something I’d prefer to deal with.

“Yeah.” I replied, standing up, and grabbing my messenger bag. I flung it over my head, and grabbed my Blackberry—which, for those of you interested, I now seriously love.

“So, I figured we could grab some Starbucks before we left, since it’s a decent drive into Bellville.”

Gerard obviously didn’t know much about me. If I had coffee before I went on a car ride, there would be hell to pay. But the temptation was to much, and I nodded my head yes. He smiled back, and we started our way to the elevator.

At Starbucks, he ordered a Frappucino, (Who knew?) as did I, and we sat down to wait for the Town Car that was taking us to his parent’s house, where, apparently we were staying.

“So, I ordered you a suit, cause I figure you probably don’t have a black one,” He said, looking down at me. I glance down at the table.

“Black jeans and a dress shirt isn’t enough?”

“Frank,” he shook his head, chuckling. “Welcome to the world where you have to present yourself properly.”

“Societies a bitch,” I answered.

It was quiet for a second, as he looked at me, searching through my eyes. I felt a bit uncomfortable, and shifted in my seat, sighing. He snapped out of it, and smiled, almost sadly. “You’re so straightforward,” He said finally.

I am the king of doing/saying stupid things in awkward/serious/honest moments. So I did another stupid thing, at another stupid moment. I laughed. He looked at me, as though expecting an answer. “Gerard, you’re pretty straightforward yourself,” I finally said.

“How so?” he demanded. I stared at him for a while, before shaking my head.

“You’re so oblivious to what an ass you truly are Gerard.”

“You’re so oblivious to what a dickhead you tend to be, Iero,” He shot back. I growled at him from the back of my throat, and then continued.

“You say things that people don’t want to hear,” I said. “Like, when my hair looked like shit at the dinner party last week.” Gerard rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, that’s real straightforward. What about you, with how you said I was an ass?”

“Gerard,” I blushed. “You started that.” He giggled.

“Oh my god! You blushed!”

“Shut up!” I hissed, my face still red. He laughed again, but stopped, as his pager beeped, signaling that the Town Car was waiting for us to finish our coffees.

“Ready?” He asked, smiling at me again.

I smiled back. His smile was something so rare, that when it appeared, you couldn’t help but love it, and wish for it to come back. He was handsome, in a way that nobody was really sure of. He had this charm to him, but he liked to hide it, almost. He held his hand out to help me up. I hesitated. “Somebody could see,” I whispered. He kept his hand there.

“Then I’ll explain. I was helping you up. Too bad if they think otherwise.” It was another second, before I finally took his hand, grinning, as he pulled me up, squeezing my hand in thanks.

I wasn’t sure what he was thanking me for though. I should have been thanking him.

We walked out to the car—me smiling like and idiot, and Gerard smirking now and then, climbing into the back. I felt a buzz of energy soar through me, as the coffee started to kick in. I bounced in my seat, excited at leaving, as we pulled onto I-80.

…”Frank, shut the fuck up!”

“ImeancauseIwouldreallylovetostopbythatpizzaplaceonfifth,isn’titthebest?”

“You know I couldn’t understand a word you said, right?” He asked me, blinking. I bounced more.

“Andthencanwegototheicecreamplaceontwenty-fourth?causeit’sreallygoodtheretoo!”

“Frank, I swear to god…” He trailed off.

“Sir, we’re at your parents,” The driver said. Gerard nodded in thanks, and turned to me.

“Frank, please.”

“Pleasewhat?”

“Please, calm down.”

“Ican’thelpit,it’sthecoffee,itmakesmeallsugaryhyperandcrazy.”

He rolled his eyes, took a deep breath, and then slammed his lips against mine. I was stunned, not doing anything at first, just sitting there, his lips pressed against mine, moving slowly, until finally, I wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed back. He ran his tongue across my bottom lip, until I allowed him entrance, falling back onto the seat, moaning a little.

He pulled back. “I’ll let you kiss me more later tonight if you calm down,” He winked.

“I’ll have to think about it,” I smirked.

“Frank!” He laughed, and slapped me playfully. “That’s rude. Now come on, fix your hair, you should really—“

“Don’t even say it!” I interrupted. He rolled his eyes again, and the driver opened the door for us. We climbed out, me still fixing my hair a bit. All the sudden, the little blonde blur came soaring past me, and into Gerard’s shocked arms. He stumbled, and almost fell, before regaining balance.

“Ma!” he whined. “You’re suffocating me.”

“Mi Figlio!” She cried, kissing his cheek. I smirked, and laughed a little.

“Sì. Adesso fermare, Ma. Ho un amico la voglio incontrare.” She whirled around to look at me, and smiled.

“Ciao, sono Frank.” I greeted.

“Oh my, Gerard, he can speak Italian,” She said excitedly, grinning at Gerard. Gerard himself was looking at me, almost mesmerized.

“Rather fluently,” I said, smiling. “My mother’s Italian. And my biological father, as well.”

“How lovely!” She grinned, and hugged me tight. “I’m Donna, Gerard’s mother.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said politely.

“Inside, all of you, it’s cold,” She hurried, guiding us up the porch, and into her house.

Remember what I said about Home, earlier? About how you always know when you’re there? As soon as I stepped over the Threshold, I felt a sense of peace. Of being at home, finally. The smell was of cookies, and coffee, and the house was clean and welcoming. It was home, to any visitor.

“Michael, your brother is here!” Donna shouted, and a guy came running down the steps.

“Hey Gee!” He greeted. Gerard grinned wide, and hugged his brother.

“Hey Mikes. How’re you taking it?” He asked softly. I’m sure I wasn’t really meant to hear it, so I followed Donna into the kitchen, as they talked in low murmurs.

“Would you like coffee?” Donna asked.

“NO!” Gerard shouted, as I was about to open my mouth and say yes. He came into the room, grinning. “I mean…he’s just had some, and we were gonna go to that pizza place on fifth. And then to the ice cream place on twenty-fourth.”

“I thought you said you couldn’t hear me,” I said, narrowing my eyes.

“I did. Look Ma, Frank really missed Jersey’s excellent pizza, so we’re gonna go now. I’m taking Mikey, he wants to meet Frank. See you later, okay?” Donna smiled, and kissed her son’s cheek.

“Very well. Don’t be out too late. The funeral’s tomorrow.” A pained look crossed her face. “I’m gonna go check on your father,” She murmured, walking off.

XxX

“How’s come Mikey can wear jeans?” I hissed to Gerard, as we made our way down the steps the next morning.

“Frank,” He yawned, rolling his eyes. “Suck it up.”

“I mean, this suit is totally uncomfortable, and damnit Gerard, it’s a bit too long.”

“Shut up,” He laughed. “it looks fine.”

Mikey poured coffee, and turned around to us. “I can hear everything you say,” He said, arching an eyebrow. “And, to answer your question, Frank, I can wear jeans, because I know Grandma couldn’t give to shits what we looked like at her funeral, as long as we were there. Gerard also knows this. He’s just pretending he doesn’t.” He winked, and walked off, leaving me with my mouth dropped open, and Gerard rolling his eyes.

“Come on,” I said, pulling him up from the table, and towards the stairs once more.

“Frank, what the fuck?” He whined, as I pulled him into his room, opening his drawers, searching through them.

Suit, after suit, after suit, after dress shirt, after dress shirt, after—Calvin Klein underwear….I giggled, tossed them aside, and continued searching. Finally, after almost giving up, I found what I’d been looking for, and pulled them out. “Frank, I’m not wearing them to Grandma’s funeral.”

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“NO!”

“YES!” I shouted, and slammed my lips against his forcefully. He was shocked, but immediately started kissing back, giving me the advantage I wanted. I tore his pants to his suit off. He whined.

“That’s not fair.”

“Yes it is. Put them on Gerard, you’ll look better. And now for a shirt…black…” I murmured, searching through his closet, and finally finding a black dress shirt. I threw it at him as he buttoned his black jeans I’d made him wear. “Wear that.”

“Yes sir,” He grumbled, taking his other shirt off and putting that one on.

“Tie…tie….oh! I have a white one!” I ran over to my bag, and pulled it out, tossing it at him.

“Frank I don’t see the—“

“And converse! I know you have to have a pair of them…” I mumbled, looking around his room more.

“They’re in the suitcase,” He sighed, sitting down on the bed, and crossing his arms. I looked up at him, shocked, and not sure what to say.

“You do have a pair?” I asked him. He looked at me, rolling his eyes.

“You just said you knew I had to have a pair.”

“That was…not true…” I said, not able to come up with a better word. “I didn’t really think you had a pair.”

“Ta-da.” He said sarcastically, doing a little model’s pose.

I pulled eyeliner from my bag, and opened it, holding his head still. “Oh, No!” He shouted. “No Fucking Way!”

“Please?” I pouted. “Pretty please Gee? Just today.” He looked warily at me, before finally nodding, and tilting his head back so I could put it on. I grinned, kissed his cheek, and set to work.

He looked great, even he couldn’t say otherwise. Black jeans, a black dress shirt, white tie, Chucks, eyeliner, and his hair brushed out so it sexily looked sloppy. I grinned at my masterpiece, and kissed his lips. “Somehow, I think your grandma would have loved you being yourself,” I smiled happily.

“What makes you so sure?” He asked, sitting back down. I sat down in his lap, and rested my head against his shoulder. I had changed into jeans and a dress shirt as soon as I finished Gerard’s eyeliner.

“Because this looks like you Gerard, and that’s the special thing of it.”

Someone knocked on the door before he could reply, and he yelled for them to come in, as I hurried off his lap so no one could see. Mikey poked his head through. “You re—whoah!”

“Shut up!” Gerard blushed. “And yes.”

“Okay.”

XxX

“She was a strong, fierce, stubborn, and a hell of a determined woman,” Gerard spoke, his eyes glazing over with tears. He looked down at me, and I nodded, encouraging him to go on. God knew he needed it. “But I loved her. I loved her so much. And I’ll—I’ll miss her.”

He finished, everyone nodding in agreement, some sniffling, and sat down next to me. I gave him a quick hug, and whispered into his ear. “I’m sorry Gee.” He nodded, sniffling, and wiping his nose with the cloth he had.

After everyone had spoken, they lowered the grave, Gerard, Mikey, Donna, and Mr. Way sobbing hard, and everyone else sniffling a little. I wished I had known the woman, she seemed extremely sweet and adorable. Once it was over, we all walked to the limo that was waiting, and climbed in.

Dinner was quite an affair, the big Italian family comforting one another as they ate extremely good food, and shared tales of Elena, laughing, crying, and hugging some more. “Frank, this is my cousin Maria, and her boyfriend Johnny.”

Gerard introduced me to a brunette haired girl, and her black haired boyfriend, who both smiled briefly at me, shaking their hands. “I’m Frank, obviously. I’m sorry about your grandmother, she seemed lovely.”

“She was,” Maria said. “And thank you.”

We continued to chat for a while, until everyone left, finally, and Gerard and I decided to go to bed. Donna had given me a separate room, but I didn’t plan on using it tonight. I snuck out, quietly tiptoeing across the hall, and opening the door to Gerard’s room.

“Gerard?” I hissed.

“Frank? What the fuck?” He groaned, rolling over.

“I didn’t want you to sleep alone. Not tonight.” Even in the dark, I knew he smirked, and he turned the lamp beside his bed on. He motioned for me to climb in, which I did quickly.

“You’ll have to be back in your room before Ma wakes up.”

“I know,” I smiled, as he began tracing patterns on my bare chest. He kiss me lightly.

“I promised you something today,” He said.

“Not now,” I said, smiling at him. “You’ve had a long enough day. I’ll make you pay up later though.” He laughed quietly, and kissed me again, before setting his alarm.

“G’night Gerard,” I mumbled, snuggling into him.

“Night Frankie.”

I fell asleep thinking about how he called me Frankie, and how I appreciated it. Gerard had opened up a little, something I definitely wasn’t used to. And a part of me knew that sooner or later, our dirty little secret would be unveiled someday, and all would go to hell. But the other part of me was saying to ignore that. Let life go, live a little.

I listened to that part.