I Need You But You Make My Heart Burn in Pieces

I woke at around 9 in the morning; I sat up in bed and looked beside me. Gerard was still sleeping, he looked so angelic and cute; his short, black hair was all stuck up and his mouth was open slightly as he breathed.

I wanted to smile but for some reason I just couldn’t, Id woken up the most depressed Id been in years, it was strange I didn’t really have much to be depressed about. But still, I was. I just sat there, staring at the ceiling waiting to stop feeling so sad but it didn’t happen.

So I got up and walked around, in the kitchen, and for a while it seemed to make me feel less sad but then it came back again. I felt so lonely even though I knew Gerard was just in the bedroom.

I went and sat with him, he was still asleep, and then I considered doing thee worst. Id heard it made you feel better but I was never sure, maybe, I thought, I should try and see what its like.

So I did, I found a pencil sharpener Gerard had been using not long ago to draw and I got a pair of scissors from the kitchen and I took the tiny screw out from the sharpener. I placed it on the bedside table, so I could put the sharpener back afterwards.

I looked at the blade, how could something so small make such an impact on someone’s life? I brought it down to my forearm, pressed down hard, and pulled it across. It was small but it was enough to make the blood come seeping through my skin. It was enough to make me see why people did it.

I repeated it several times; each time pressing down harder and each time the pain growing on me like a bad habit. Then I felt movement beside me; Gerard was awake and there I was bleeding. I knew Gerard would hate me if he found out. I already hated myself for doing it. I hadn't been able to grin and bear it, so now I would just used self-harm as a pathetic release. I was filth, I was scum. I was useless, but it did help . . . a lot.

I got up quickly and tried to rush to the bathroom but Gerard grabbed my wrist. I let out a squeak at the pain.

“Where you going, Frankie?” He asked, his eyes were still shut.

“Bathroom,” I squeaked out.

“Why is your arm all weird feeling?” he asked, laughing slightly still with his eyes closed.

“I-uh, I spilt water on it,” I lied and pulled out of his grasp, running to the bathroom and locking the door, thinking how pathetic my excuse was.

After I'd cleaned up and shoved on a long sleeved tee shirt, I walked into the kitchen to find Gerard leaning over the counter staring at his hand intently. I began to get nervous.

"Babe, what're you doing?" I asked.

"There's blood on my hand," he mumbled.

"Oh, I just had a little accident and my arm got a little cut," I lied.

"Then why did you tell me you spilt water on yourself?" he asked, seeming upset.

"I-uh, I-I didn't want to worry you," I stuttered.

He nodded slowly, seeming to be processing my explanation. Just as I went forward to start making myself a coffee, Gerard lunged quickly. I squeaked and tried to pull away but his grip was tight. He picked me up so my feet wouldn't reach the floor then carried me to the double bed. He chucked me on it then straddled my middle; his face looked grim.

I wriggled but I was underneath him. Gerard grabbed my wrist. I shut my eyes tight; I didn't want to see the look on his face when he saw the cuts. It was most obvious they were self-inflicted; not an accident, like I'd insisted they were. I felt him roll down the sleeve of the tee shirt I was wearing then heard him sigh.

"Frank," he said exhaling a long, tired breath. I still had my eyes shut but I could still feel him tracing the cuts, gently, with his finger and I could imagine that lost, concerned, guilty look on his perfect face.

"You hate me, don't you!?" I asked, feeling tears prickle beneath my closed eyelids.

"Frankie," his soft voice soothed. I felt him move off of my middle, I opened my eyes, slowly. I climbed on his lap and buried my face, ashamedly, into his chest. His arms wrapped round me and squeezed tight, as if he couldn't let go, ever.

"Of course, I don't hate you," he replied.

"You don't?" I was surprised.

"I can, sort of, understand how you must feel, I think we should visit Luke again, though," he told me.

I frowned, "I don't!"

"This is a major thing, Frank, he might think it best we get you some help," he explained.

My eyes widened, "No! No way, I don't want to be classed as some depressed freak," the tears built up and spilt down my face, I was pathetic, absolutely pathetic! "I'm supposed to be the happy one, the goofy one, the childish one, I want to be me again Gee. I'm fine, really, I won’t do it again- I promise!" I tried pulling away and getting up, but he just softly tightened his grip and wouldn't let me leave his lap.

"I bet right now, you're thinking you're pathetic," he said, reading my thought exactly with a sympathetic frown on his face while gently rocking back and fourth, "That's not a good thing, Frank!"

I sighed and shut my eyes, lightly, trying to stop crying like a girl. Suddenly, I felt a pair of lips against mine; I breathed out and smiled onto his lips. I pushed him back so I was lying on top on him, my tongue pushed on to his lips and Gerard admitted it, willingly.

It felt so good, we hadn't had a kiss like this in weeks; it was like having some beer after going months with out it. Or like a drug addict to needle. I needed this kiss. I needed it real bad.

The kiss began to get heated and hands began to explore for what seemed like the first time in ages. My hand ran down his side, almost on its own accord, then up his shirt.

Quickly, I'd pulled off his shirt and tossed it on the floor; Gerard broke the contact between us and sat on my middle, smiling down at me, adorably. Then his innocence turned, he smirked and his lips came crashing down on mine. I moaned into his mouth, the vibrations running on his lips.

He pulled back again, running his hands down my side. I shut my eyes; basking in the pleasure, "Mm, I want you so bad," I mumbled.

"You can take me," he whispered, before he pulled off my shirt. He sat up fully on my waist and fumbled with the button on my pants. He got them open quickly and yanked them off along with my boxers, revealing my hard on.

He smirked before shuffling down and enveloping me in his mouth. I moaned as he sucked, going up and down, running circles with his tongue. My short nails dug into his shoulders as he stopped and came back up to my level.

I rolled on top of him hurriedly and pulled off the rest of his clothes; I chucked them on the floor and crashed my lips onto his, tasting him. As we kissed I wrapped a hand around his hardened member and gently stroked it. He moaned lustfully and the kissed seemed to gain in speed and passion.

He flung out a hand and pulled open the bedside drawer, he grabbed the tube squeezed it onto my hand, which I used to coat him. His eyes closed and his head tipped up as I did so. I grinned, feeling happy about his pleasure, the pleasure I caused him.

We positioned ourselves and he slid into me with experienced skill. I shuddered, delightfully, as the first ripple of pleasure ran over my body, causing me to let out a low moan. Gerard worked faster every second, emitting loud moans, curses and my name and regular intervals. I shut my eyes, almost screaming his name.

"Oh, Gee," I moaned, breathing heavily as I released, coating the bed sheets just after he released inside of me, hitting that prostrate. I shuddered, once again, in delight as he pulled out of me and lay by my side, panting heavily. I lay there as my breathing slowly turned back to normal.

Gerard and I lay, quietly, for just over an hour before a realization came over me.

"You know, Gee," I began, "It's around 1 in the afternoon and we're lying in bed, when we have stuff to do."

"We have stuff to do?" he asked.

"Well, we don't have definitive plans, but, we aren't really supposed to be in bed in the afternoon and I suppose we should change these sheets, they smell of sex and we both need a shower and-," I has started to ramble; a habit of me.

Gerard stopped my lips with his cold finger. He smiled at me, "You're such a dork."

"Am not! You're dorkier than me," I exclaimed.

He scoffed, "Frank, I'm the king of cool."

"You like Dungeons and Dragons!" I exclaimed.

"Psssh—and," he smiled, "I bet, really, you think I'm cool," he said.

I was about to retort before he stopped me with a small kiss, then jumped up, pulling the bed sheets and I (tangled in them) with him.

I fell to the floor with a yell, the pain in my ribs had subsided since yesterday, but I still cursed and hissed through my teeth when I hit the floor.

"Oh, Frank! I'm so sorry, I forgot." Gerard apologized, rushing over to me and helping me up.

I shook my head, "It's okay, you didn't mean to," I insisted. He just smiled down at me, seeming exasperated before taking my hand and pulling me into the shower with him.