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Empty Spaces (Frank/Gerard, MCR)

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Apr. 29th, 2007 | 10:22 am

Title:Empty Spaces
Author:eros_dreams
Pairing:Frank/Gerard
Rating:PG-13 for language
Summary:It's the closest distances that seem to be the farthest. Makes them harder to cross.
Author's Notes: Inspired, quite literally, by a weird-ass dream I had last night. I never really do heart-tuggers, I'm more of a let's-get-to-the-sexins type. Also, my first MCR fic. It's a sweet little standalone. From Frank's POV.


"Stop that."

Third time he'd said that, backstage waiting. Not my fault I was twitchy. You'd think by now I'd have gotten rid of stage nerves, but it does it every time. My fingers stopped tapping on the wall behind me and I sent a level glare across the space.

"Bite me."

He didn't say anything.

~*~

That's how it was. Always that space between us. Even on the bus, with his bunk right fucking there. He turned his back and let out a soft puff of air. It hadn't always been like that. Years back, we'd all get drunk together and stay up for hours giggling over nothing. I blamed the change in hair color. When he went blonde, he changed. It was easier to blame a bottle of dye than to think about it too hard.

I don't like thinking about it.

~*~

Some club in the Midwest. Sweaty bodies pressing everywhere. I stayed close, not trusting anyone. I kept looking to him, eyebrow raised. I kept waiting for him to come closer, to press his body against mine. To feel his sweaty arms thrown over my shoulders, his breath heavy on my neck. But he didn't. Just kept writing with the mass, watching me.

"Fuck this." I growled mostly to myself as I stalked out.

~*~

"If you're a tree? What the fuck was that?!" He sputtered a little. I wasn't going to say it, but I knew how he felt about his age. I couldn't say anything, I'd already done too much.

"Seriously, what..." He placed one hand on my shoulder as we ere escorted back to the bus. I shrugged it off, loping ahead to leave them in the dust.

Not like I could say it anyway.

~*~


"What do you mean, there's only one towel?!" Ray growled, pacing a furrow in the floor.

"She means that there's only one towel, you overgrown chia pet." Gerard laughed at he pressed his elbows against the wall, aforementioned towel wrapped around his waist.

"I know that dumbass, what I meant was how can a venue have such fantastic showers and only one fucking towel?!" Ray sparked. I think I saw little arcs of electricity leap from one curl to the other.

"Keep your pants on, you can have it as soon as I'm dry." He leaned against the wall, grinning. Somehow I'd gotten roped into using one of the hair dryers to speed the process.

"Maybe I'll let you have Frankie dry you too," He smirked across the small space at Ray.

He got a chest full of hairdryer thrown at him as I stalked off. Ray laughed.

I didn't.

~*~

I was skipping rocks on some bridge at some college. Didn't care where. They all looked the same now. The dirty algae-filled water was terrible for rock skipping, and there were very few rocks to speak of. Didn't stop me from trying. I leaned down, pressing my forehead to the railing. So fucking tired. Of the blur of motion, of the sleep deprivation, the forced closeness that felt like a canyon.

"Frank?" his voice ghosted over my ears. I felt a hand on my shoulder again, fingers digging into my flesh a little. I closed my eyes, wincing as I stood up abruptly and stalked off again.

"Frank..." he whispered behind me, under his breath. I kept walking, off the bridge, along the edge of he cemented path by the water. The thick smell of the water filled my nostrils as I pulled in a few deep breaths. A wall was coming at me, and I stopped there, leaving one hand against the cold stone. Water splashed up as a flat rock came skipping past me. I snorted my disgust.

"Don't think you can just..." I mumbled under my breath, turning around with closed eyes to lean against the wall, hips jutting out into the cool evening air. I couldn't finish, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I opened my eyes slowly.

He was right there, suddenly, looming over me. Hands planted on the wall, one over my shoulder, the other pinning my arm to the wall as he pressed his forehead to mine.

"Stop running away from me..." he murmured, his breath falling softly on my face.

And I didn't.

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