Chapter Text
Chapter One
The first time his boyfriend hit him was because he'd been crying too loudly.
The first few tears fell when he heard what his boyfriend had done, and then more followed after his boyfriend's words only made everything worse. It was like one moment his life was a beautifully painted picture with blue skies and the world laid out for him—and then the next, before it could fully dry, someone had viciously swiped their hand over it, smudging the once perfect image and ruining it forever.
Gerard remembered tasting the salty tears on his tongue, followed by the stronger, metallic taste of blood as it gushed from his nose into his open mouth. Gerard choked on his sobs as well as the blood, and all his boyfriend told him was to "stop fucking crying," or he'd hit him again.
Gerard had stopped crying, but only because he went into shock from the pain of his nose being broken. And when he went home later that night and his mother asked him what had happened with a look of horror on her face, Gerard told her the only thing he could:
"Me and Ryan went to a party. Some guy got too drunk and hit me."
The lie rolled off his tongue uneasily. She could tell he wasn't being truthful, but couldn't get him to admit what had really happened.
Gerard had gotten a lot better at telling lies since then. He wouldn't even have to think about it. Before his mother could even finish whatever question she wanted to ask him—whether it be where he had been or who he was with—he already had a made up answer prepared. He'd say it smoothly, without any guilty looks to the side or stuttering over a syllable. He'd say it easily—and he'd say it convincingly.
He'd been close to breaking up with his boyfriend of four months after that night, had even gone to his house the next day after coming back from the hospital with determination to do so, but Ryan got him to change his mind pretty quickly. With his charming smile and deep eyes, there wasn't much he couldn't get Gerard to do for him.
His boyfriend took him into his room, sat him down on his bed and told him, "baby, you made me cheat. What did you expect? I'm a guy. I need to fuck, and if you're gonna hold out on me then I'm gonna get it from someone else."
"You didn't have to hit me," Gerard cried, turning his face away because he knew what Ryan had said was true. He couldn't hold out on him forever and not expect this to happen... things just didn't work that way. Gerard was his boyfriend and he should be able to give Ryan what a boyfriend was supposed to.
"You were hysterical! You know I can't handle you when you get like that, Gee. It stresses me out. Besides, no one wants to date a fuckin' crybaby."
And of course, that made Gerard start crying all over again, the tears overflowing and his sobs getting caught in his throat—his boyfriend letting out an annoyed sigh.
It was true, Gerard was a crybaby. He even cried when he let Ryan take his virginity a month later. He had somehow convinced himself that he was ready to take the next step, but that couldn't have been further from the truth. He'd been terrified and only let Ryan take his pants off because he didn't want him to cheat again.
It was the only way Gerard knew how to fix things. How to fix things... and then how to ruin them immediately after. As soon as Ryan buried himself inside him after barely using enough lube, Gerard started crying, tears lined his eyes, and when he blinked, they fell, trailing down his cheeks, disappearing along with the last of his innocence. Ryan flipped him over onto his stomach when his sobs started and pressed his face into the pillow so he wouldn't have to look at him or hear him. He kept his hand tangled in Gerard's dark hair and kept him pinned down, not permitting him to move an inch or even squeak in fear.
"You hurt me," Gerard told him after, harsh bruises already forming around his pale hips. They looked dark in contrast, startling against his once pure skin. "You really hurt me, Ryan..."
"I know, baby. I'm sorry." He didn't sound too sorry... "I just—you gotta quit it with the crying. It's a turn off, babe. You can't expect me to fuck you when you're looking like that."
Gerard had a feeling, though, that had been a lie. For every time after that when they had sex, he always made sure to make Gerard cry some way or another.
Tonight wasn't any different.
Gerard didn't know why he thought it would be. Maybe because Ryan had taken him out on an actual, nice date. Still, he should've known. After a year and a half of dating him Gerard should've known better...
He sniffled and wiped the snot under his nose away with the back of his hand, quietly, quietly closing the front door behind him. He was able to get downstairs to his bedroom without being stopped by his mother or father, and he didn't waste another second before throwing himself onto his bed and crying into his pillow. His whole body hurt, and when his sleeve slipped down his arm just enough to reveal the circle of bruises around his wrist, Gerard let out a loud sob and curled into himself.
It was at moments like this he felt it'd be easy to break up with Ryan.
But the only thing worse than being with Ryan, he knew, was being alone.
( ) ( ) ( )
The sidewalk was spattered in puddles of water here and there from earlier rain. The air was cool now, a bit damp feeling against his skin as he walked with his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. His strides were slow and even, a bit faster than his brother's whose were more hesitant and dragging. Gerard didn't want to go to school for some reason, and whatever that reason was had to be serious if Mikey walked in on him trying to make himself throw up in the bathroom so he wouldn't have to go.
When Mikey asked him what was wrong, his brother scowled at him and muttered something about not being bulimic and to leave him alone. Mikey knew his brother didn't have an eating disorder just as he knew something was wrong. And he had quite a few ideas as to what it could possibly be. With Gerard it was always something, it seemed.
He looked down at his reflection in a passing puddle before sliding his eyes over to the right to look at Gerard's. He had his head down and was chewing on his lip like he wanted to tear the flesh off and swallow it.
Something definitely wasn't right...
He refrained from asking what was up again since he knew he was just going to be met with another glare and a snappy remark. He could do without Gerard giving him attitude before eight in the goddamn morning...
"Welcome back!" was written in big bold letters on a banner over the entrance of the school, the double doors thrown wide open for the oncoming students filing in. Mikey walked under it down the hallway towards his locker to go put away his bag and take out the few selected books he'd need for his first few classes. Gerard passed by him to go further down the hallway, and he watched him disappear around the corner with his shoulders curved inwards like some kind of bad shield.
Just the other day Gerard had been laughing and sneaking off into the night to go meet up with his jackass of a boyfriend. If Mikey had to guess, he'd say something had to have happened between them.
It wasn't his business, Gerard would tell him. It was only Mikey's business when things were taken too far and Gerard came to him crying. With a tired sigh, Mikey shut his locker.
First day back and it already felt like a drag.
Holding a stack of heavy books in his arms, Mikey started off to his first class and sat down near the back corner. He leaned back in the horribly hard uncomfortable chair and idly twirled his pencil around between his fingers.
That was about the most he moved for his first two periods before he had to go to gym.
He could feel the teacher—who he was pretty sure had it out for him—staring him down as he fell behind during one of their laps around the gym. It wasn't his fault his body wasn't in any way made to handle physical exertion of any kind. His legs were killing him and his lungs were burning for air by the end of only the second lap.
And he had two more to go...
"Hey."
Mikey stumbled over one of his feet at the sudden voice and turned his head to find a guy with dark hair and a neck tattoo he didn't know. He would've looked intimidating if he hadn't been five feet tall.
"Hey?"
"You have asthma or something?" If the guy hadn't said it was such genuine concern, Mikey would've thought he was making fun of him.
"No," he answered, so out of breath it almost sounded like a lie.
"This blows, man. Back at my Catholic school gym wasn't a required class." Mikey looked the guy over from head to toe. He didn't look out of breath in the least and Mikey had a feeling he was just complaining to sympathize with him.
"Catholic school?" Mikey repeated. Personally, he wouldn't peg the guy with a scorpion neck tattoo as someone who had gone to Catholic school.
"Just transferred here this year."
Transferred, Mikey thought, or kicked out?
"Cool," Mikey said, because what the hell else was he supposed to say?
The guy was new, probably saw Mikey running alone and thought him an easy target to make friends with. It wasn't that Mikey was a loser, per say, he was just more of a loner. He didn't feel the need to talk to classmates he didn't like or chat about nonsensical things with people he didn't really care about. He'd rather keep to himself.
That plan wasn't working out so well in gym class when the dark haired guy, named Frank, apparently, kept talking to him. Though, Mikey found himself not entirely minding. He seemed to be pretty easygoing and didn't appear annoyed with Mikey's mostly silent replies. In fact, if Mikey had to guess, he'd say Frank liked hearing himself talk more than having Mikey actually respond to him.
By the time class was over and they changed back into their regular clothes in the locker room, he found himself inviting Frank to sit with him at lunch.
"The food here looks kinda gross," Frank complained, poking at his watery potatoes.
"Yeah." Mikey took out his homemade lunch his mom prepared for him and picked up his sandwich to take a bite. When Frank remained silent and continued depressingly poking at his gross potatoes, Mikey finally made the effort to take the lead in a conversation.
"What was Catholic school like?" He asked.
"Ugh," Frank said. "Don't even get me started on the stupid fuckin' uniforms we had to wear. If the tie wasn't choking me it was the fucking Bible quotes we were made to read every day. If I see another Bible again I'm lighting it on fire."
Mikey's eyebrows shot up above the rim of his glasses. He cleared his throat and shook his head a little, at a loss for words for a moment. "That bad, huh?" He asked.
"You don't even know it, dude. When my mom found an Iron Maiden CD in my room she told the school about it and they were convinced I was becoming, like, a fucking satanic or something—a satanic. Honestly, after the hell they put me through, I might just start worshiping the devil to spite them."
Mikey let out an amused snort. "Iron Maiden, huh?"
"You like 'em?"
"Yeah, they're cool. My brother introduced me to them a few years ago. I think I like The Smashing Pumpkins more though."
"The Smashing Pumpkins are cool," Frank agreed with a grin. He had a sort of cheeky grin, Mikey noted. One side of his lips pulled up more than the other. It was a smug look, like he'd just heard something that was unfortunate for someone else, but good for him.
"I take it your mom doesn't just disapprove of Iron Maiden?"
"Nah," Frank said. "She doesn't care about what I listen to now. Not since the divorce. It's why I transferred schools actually." Frank waved a hand around in front of him nonchalantly as he talked. "My dad moved in with his girlfriend and now since me and my mom are on our own she can't afford Catholic school for me anymore. Not that I'm complaining."
"Oh," Mikey said. "Did you... get that tattoo after you stopped going to that school?"
"Oh, this?" Frank motioned to the tattoo on his neck and laughed. "No, man. I got that in the middle of school last year. I have a friend whose older brother did it for me for some money. I kinda got it as a joke. I mean, I like it and whatever, but I kinda just wanted to see what my mom and the school would say."
"And what did they say?"
"Well, my mom lost her shit and the school called her to complain and threatened to kick me out. But they didn't and then the divorce happened, so my mom kind of just forgot about it."
"It's a cool tattoo," Mikey said after a moment, nodding his head a little.
"Thanks. I'm gonna get a bunch more eventually."
Frank went on to talk about the next few tattoos he wanted to get on his chest and arms, motioning to the different areas he spoke of—though Mikey felt it'd be more appropriate for him to tattoo the words "trouble maker" across his forehead—before the bell cut him off. Mikey stood with Frank, the Bible hating ex-Catholic school boy, and picked up his bag.
"What do you have next?" Frank asked him.
"Oh, um. English. And then Chemistry."
"I got Study then Art. I guess I'll see you tomorrow in gym, then?" Frank grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder.
"Yeah, sure. See you tomorrow."
( ) ( ) ( )
"Dude, I thought you said you haven't played this game before."
"I haven't. I'm just good," Frank said with a smirk.
After spending every gym class and lunch with Frank during his first week of school, Mikey decided to invite his friend over. It was a Friday night and Frank said he wasn't doing anything and... that was what friends were supposed to do, right? Mikey didn't really know.
He did know that Frank was royally handing his ass to him at the video game they were playing though.
He was just about to catch up to Frank's guy on the screen when the front door abruptly opened then slammed shut again.
"Gee, honey, is that you?" He could hear his mother call from the kitchen.
"Leave me alone!" Gerard yelled back. He stomped over to his bedroom door and yanked it open, allowing Mikey and Frank to catch a quick, fleeting glimpse of his eyeliner-smudged face before he disappeared into his room.
"Is that your brother?" Frank guessed. When Mikey looked back at him his eyes were wide and curious, still staring at the basement door.
"Yeah. That's Gee..."
"Kinda sounds like a drama queen," Frank said, making sure Mikey just knew it was a joke as he laughed and nudged his shoulder before going back to focus on the game.
"You don't even know it, dude," Mikey muttered. Gerard had always been a drama queen. When he didn't get his way he'd usually brood or yell, and if neither of those worked he wasn't afraid to bring out the tears. Something about Gerard's tears seemed genuine lately, though. Like they weren't just for attention...
"What's his problem anyway?"
"I dunno. Probably has something to do with his stupid boyfriend."
"He has a boyfriend?"
Mikey eyed his friend closely, trying to detect any judgement in his tone, but he found none. "Yeah, he does."
"Cool," Frank said simply, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
Just "cool"...
( ) ( ) ( )
When Gerard came out of his room a few hours later he was in no mood to make nice with his brother's new, little friend. His mother had called him up for dinner and he was planning on taking a few bites of food before retreating back down to his room.
What he wasn't planning on was bumping into Mikey and his friend in the kitchen.
"Gee, this is Frank," Mikey said when said friend kept fucking staring at him. Gerard could feel his eyes glued to his back as he moved about the kitchen to grab a drink. Gerard didn't give a verbal response, just glanced very briefly at the boy he didn't know before looking away again, dropping his gaze back down to the floor.
Ryan wouldn't like it if he was looking at another guy. Especially one that was staring at him so intently. Even if the tattoo on his neck had caught Gerard's eye...
"What's up?" Frank asked him. Gerard didn't know how to respond to that, so he merely glanced at him again before pouring himself some water. What was up? None of his damn business was what was up...
"Me and Frank are gonna watch a movie if you wanna join." He could tell by Mikey's tone that he didn't really care for Gerard's company and was just trying to be nice. He pursed his lips and took a sip of his drink. "No thanks," he said. He sat down at the table and shoveled down a few bites of the dinner their mother had made before he washed his dishes and went back down to his room.
He sighed and picked his phone up from his bed as he laid back, surprised to find a text from Ryan.
Come over
After their fight last night and Ryan ignoring him all day at school, Gerard hadn't been expecting to be given any attention from him for the remainder of the night. His heart started pounding in his chest as he stared at the text, his blood rushing not with dread, he told himself, but with excitement.
If he finally admitted to himself that he was scared of his own boyfriend, then he'd have to accept how truly pathetic he'd become. He didn't want to face that fact. Not yet—not ever. Ryan was his boyfriend, he loved Ryan—and Ryan loved him. Love wasn't always holding hands and romantic dates. Love was dedication and hard work—love meant being committed and accepting the other's flaws—no matter how big or small.
No matter if Ryan took his anger and frustrations out on him sometimes. He had the right to—especially since Gerard's flaws certainly outweighed his boyfriends.
Gerard sent a quick reply and showed up at Ryan's house about a half an hour later. Since he had to walk and Ryan didn't feel like picking him up, it took a little longer than usual to get there. He spent the walk looking down at the pavement—watching the shadows move in the dark, then how they'd glow under streetlights—and wondering why Ryan wanted him to come over. After last night... after their fight Gerard was more than a little worried that his boyfriend was making him come over so he could break up with him. Surely bad sex wasn't the final straw though, right? Just because Gerard hadn't wanted to give Ryan oral—and then had been bad at it when he finally gave in and did—didn't mean Ryan was going to... to leave him, right?
Right!?
Gerard forced himself to calm down when Ryan's house came into view. Ryan hated it when he got emotional—which, really, proved to be quite a problem since Gerard was overcome with his emotions more often than not—and if Gerard started weeping before he even stepped foot inside, Ryan would probably just turn him away and tell him to go back home. Or—if he wasn't already planning on breaking up with him—maybe this would finally be the thing that made him snap and dump Gerard right on his porch.
Gerard took a deep breath and knocked on the front door timidly. He smiled shyly when his boyfriend opened the door for him, and then Ryan was leaning down and pressing their lips together, and Gerard kissed back like he was supposed to. The kiss had his thoughts instantly turning around. It sure didn't seem like Ryan was about to break up with him. It was a gentle touch, one that made Gerard's stomach flutter pleasantly and wish for more. Those gentle displays of affection were so rare. They always left Gerard surprised and blushing as if he'd been given the greatest gift in the world. It reminded him that Ryan really, truly did love him back. You couldn't fake affection like that—you just couldn't.
"I ordered us some food," Ryan said, leading him into the living room with his hand placed on his lower back.
"I—oh..." Gerard looked at the open pizza box on the coffee table and felt the palms of his hands grow sweaty. "My... my mom already made me dinner," he admitted. "I can—I can eat more though! I didn't eat a lot." In his haste to get back down to his room, he only had about four bites of the lasagna his mom had made before clearing his dish and skulking back to the basement.
"Oh," Ryan sounded disappointed and he didn't looked too pleased as he frowned. "You should probably keep it that way then."
Gerard could feel his face warm up uncomfortably fast in embarrassment, and he quickly looked away from the food down at the floor. Ryan was right. He didn't need to eat anymore than he already had... Gerard knew he wasn't fat by any means, but he was getting there. His jeans were tight around the waist nowadays and the rough material always left harsh, red indents in his skin when he took them off. Wearing the too-tight pants hurt, but there was no way he was going to start buying bigger sizes—there was just no way. Because then, it'd be like giving in. Gerard wanted to lose weight—not get bigger pants to allow himself to gain more.
"Why're you so tense, babe?" Ryan asked him, draping an arm around his shoulders as he ate.
"I... I don't..." Gerard couldn't come up with an answer, but Ryan didn't seem to really care. Gerard made himself lean into Ryan's side and tried to relax, tried to find the warmth of Ryan against him comforting like he used to find it. Ryan had invited him over to spend time with him, he wasn't going to ruin it by letting his insecurities get to him. Besides, it was nice watching a movie with Ryan and resting his head against his shoulder. Soon enough, his eyelids became heavy and he felt sleep pulling at him. He pressed closer to his boyfriend to get more comfortable, though it seemed Ryan had other ideas than just watching a movie and then taking a nap as he dipped his head down and started kissing at Gerard's neck.
His breath was warm against his skin... it made Gerard shiver, he could feel the chill all the way to the marrow in his bones. He swallowed nervously when soon enough Ryan's kisses turned to bites. He was always rough if given the chance. His old sweet, caresses had turned into demanding grips. And no matter how many times Gerard asked Ryan to "please" be just a little more gentle, the "suggestion" went unnoticed.
Gerard used to tell himself that Ryan just didn't hear him whenever he asked him to not be so rough. Now he knew Ryan just didn't care.
He let Ryan attack his neck for a few more minutes before he was being pulled up and led to his boyfriend's bedroom. The sound of the door shutting behind them made Gerard jump, all his nerves vibrating and making him on edge.
"Are you sure you don't wanna finish the movie?" Gerard asked meekly, his boyfriend pushing him back on his bed and removing his shirt. He felt so cold without the garment of clothing on. He crossed his arms over himself insecurely and watched Ryan rid himself of his shirt as well.
Ryan didn't give him an answer. He disregarded Gerard's obvious discomfort and finished undressing them impatiently, his hands shoving Gerard's legs open to allow himself between them.
"Ryan..." Gerard didn't know what he was whining for anymore. Maybe for some more kisses or maybe for his boyfriend to stop—not that he'd dare to ask such a thing. The last time he'd told Ryan to stop he'd gone home with a bloody mouth.
"Ryan, please..."
"What?" His boyfriend uncapped the lube and poured a very small drop onto his fingers. Gerard didn't know why he bothered—probably just so Gerard couldn't cry about him not using any like he had before.
"See, Gerard? I used some. I fucking used some, you fucking whiny bitch. Don't you see the lube out right there, or are you too stupid to see it?"
"I really... I'm really tired," Gerard whispered.
"We can go to sleep after."
"But—but I mean I'm really, really tired..." Gerard tried again, knowing he was pushing it. He wanted to curl up on his side with Ryan's arms around him, like they used to do back when they'd first started dating. Back when Ryan would tell him how beautiful he was and how he felt lucky to have Gerard all to himself.
Now all his boyfriend told him was that he was lucky he didn't dump him.
"Why do you always do this?" Ryan asked him from above him, towering and powerful—terrifying. Gerard was so terrified of him he had to look away. But then Ryan grabbed his face, squishing his cheeks between his forceful grasp and making him look back at him. "Huh? Why do you always do this? This is what boyfriends do, Gerard—they have sex. Why do you have to try to get out of it every time, huh? Am I not good enough for you?"
"N-no!" Gerard tried to say. Ryan's fingers dug into his cheeks. He was sure that where blushes used to frequently dust across his features, bruises would take its place.
"No? There's gotta be something wrong if you never wanna fuck."
"I just... I was just tired," Gerard explained, tears springing to his wide, fearful eyes. He tried to close his legs together slowly, as if Ryan wouldn't notice that way. Only, he did. And he didn't hesitate to rip them apart again with his free hand.
"Bullshit. You don't think I'm good enough for you? I'll fuckin' show you just how good I can be for you."
Ryan released his face so he could grab his hips instead and flip him over onto his stomach. It was too easy. Ryan moved him around as if he weighed nothing despite him always complaining about the weight Gerard was gaining. And then, before Gerard could plead or let out a whimper of fear, Ryan thrust into him all the way in one go. It was dry for the most part and had Gerard balling his hands up in the pillow under him.
He couldn't breathe—he couldn't do anything as Ryan pulled out and repeated the motion over and over again—relentless, unforgiving. Once he was able to get some air into his lungs, he let it out in a desperate plea he knew would go unnoticed.
"Please, Ryan! That—that hurts. That really, really hurts," he sobbed, his voice high and panicked.
"Shut up."
Ryan's hand went in his hair to keep him in place and rested his other in the middle of his back when Gerard tried to inch his hips away from him, only if to get the smallest bit of relief. It was unbearable. The pain shooting up his lower spine couldn't have been worse and just as he was feeling something wet start coating his thighs, black dots spotted in his vision. One became two, then two became three. He blinked and no longer saw the desk across the room, just the outline of it. Another blink and most of his vision was blocked out on the right side.
Gerard gripped the pillow and cried weakly, pathetically. It was all he could do...
If he had it in him to cry for help, he would.
But he had no one to cry for. No one except Ryan...