Sick and Sain

It was deja vu. Almost. When the kiss of fog on their cheeks and the threat of frozen fingers awoke Gerard Way and Ryan Ross, they found themselves in a situation they had been in before. This time though, it was better. This time there was no murmur of TV, no fluorescent lights, and almost no awkwardness.

“We have got to stop doing this,” Gerard said, looking at Ryan groggily.

“Doing what?”

“Waking up at three AM and then falling asleep in the most random places.”

“Couches aren’t random.”

“And roofs?”

“No comment.”

Gerard was silent for a second, “Should we go inside?”

Ryan sat up and leaned against Gerard timidly, “No.”

“No?” Gerard smiled, looking at Ryan with a smile playing on his lips. He was perfect. Sweet. Beautiful. Everything.

“I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause I like it better here,” Ryan muttered.

“I hate to break it to you Ry,” Gerard joked, “We’ve gotta go in. I’m damn sure they don’t care yet—but we have Group Therapy today.”

Ryan felt like a teenager, “Eww!” he laughed, making a face, “Well, whatever.” He was giddy. He was light. He was…in love. There was no denying it. He had said it last night, he had. He was in love. There was no denying this.

**

After an unappetizing breakfast, a shitty session of Group Therapy, a lunch that could barely be considered edible, Gerard reached the only point of the day when he was happy. Arts and Crafts. Actually, of late, Gerard found happiness just being with a certain boy. A boy he was with all the damn time now. But he didn’t mind it—he loved it. He loved him. He loved. But—then again, he had a nagging voice in the back of his head that told him he had dreamt the whispered remark of, “I think I love you Gerard,” so late last night—or early that morning. But still, after all, he had kissed the damn boy and yet still he sat next to Gerard—penning words onto paper, scratching them out, tearing at his hair and rewriting them again. Every time Gerard tried to look though, Ryan instinctively moved his arm and obscured the paper from his view.

“You know Gee,” Ryan said after a while, “I wasn’t gonna jump.”

Gerard bit his lip, “Oh.”

“Don’t you trust me? I told you I wasn’t gonna.”

“I trust you. I just didn’t—I mean, I was just worried,” Gerard muttered, blushing. He paid more attention to his pencil than he did Ryan. He clutched it hard. Pressed down. And—shit—Gerard! You goddamn broke the point. Fucking fuckface. Stupid ass.

Ryan, seeing the distress in his best friend’s face, put a soft hand over Gerard’s, “Gee, I know you were worried. But you have to trust me when I say I’m okay.”

“Ryan, you fucking freaked out afterwards though. What was I supposed to think?”

“I’m sorry…I had a lot on my mind. I mean—I do. I just…yeah,” Ryan muttered. His turn to be embarrassed. For what reason had he lashed out at Gerard for merely caring? Was there a reason? Or was it just a strong lust for a drama that he so lacked in his current life? Was it just a need for something new, something different? Well, it had been more—or at least that was what he’d tell Gerard. It wasn’t fair to him. He had shown nothing but kindness and how did Ryan repay him? With screaming, yelling and collapsing into his arms.

Gerard looked skeptical, “Oh? Like what?”

“Well,” Ryan said, beginning to feel sarcastic, “You scared me. I am legally like…insane or something, I’m low, I broke up with my girlfriend—”

“You what?” Gerard looked astonished.

“I broke up with my girlfriend.”

“Why?”

Ryan blushed, “I don’t—she’s not what I want anymore. I don’t need her.”

“Why?” Gerard asked. He found himself at a crossroads as far as emotions were concerned. This could mean a couple things, and he could accept it on different levels. Ryan could be on one of those Love Sucks routines that he himself would go on every so often. He could be dumping this girl just ‘cause, and then there was his last and final option. He could be dumping her for him. Ryan and Gerard Gee and Ry. Ryrard. Gerard Way and Ryan Ross. Ryan Way. Gerard Ross—oh—STOP. This wasn’t why he was doing it, it was for some other reason. Another girl, or she had cheated on it. Stop it Gerard. You’re fangirling—or fanboying? What the fuck Gee? You’re ten years older, you’re a man and you’re, you’re you! Quit it fucking right now.

“I mean—well, not—‘cause I don’t love her anymore. I love someone else.”

“Who?” Gerard snapped without thinking. Shit! Gerard, you fucking fuckface! Don’t ask that kind of stuff—he’s a human, he’s not yours just to ask questions to. He’s not yours. Well it’d be nice if he was yours but—stop Gerard. This never gets you anywhere good. Why can’t you just shut up? Why can’t you just be damn good like the rest of your band? Why can’t you just choose ignorance? Shut. Up. Now.

“I—I…” Ryan stuttered. Had Gerard planned this? Was it obvious? Had he heard last night? What was left for him to lose? After all, it hadn’t been him who had kissed him last night. “I think maybe…uh…you.”

Gerard’s face split into a grin, “Seriously?”

“Mmhm. You’re the one that fucking kissed me last night though,” Ryan said, blushing. He felt giddy. Perfect. Wonderful. Everything was gonna be alright. Every little thing was gonna be alright. Fuck yes. Screw everything else, Gerard would be his.

“Oh, well you needed it,” Gerard giggled. Yes. Giggled. He wasn’t afraid to giggle anymore. It made him feel like a maniac, sure, but whatever. As long as Ryan didn’t—oh shit, did Ryan care? Did it annoy Ryan when he giggled? No. Stop, Gerard. The boy just damn said he loved you.

“Mmm, you’re right,” Ryan muttered and looked down at his paper, trying to make sense of what he had just written. I'm so sick it makes me happy, I'm so happy it makes me sick. This wasn’t new. He had written this a long time ago. In reality, it had been about his old girlfriend and he had written it on November 19, 2005 for the Internet but that was hardly his main concern. It only mattered that it was true. It only mattered that it was lying in front of him. That it was there.