Work Text:
The pill glides across the roof of your mouth as you swallow, hard and heavy. Flashes of light swirl and dance in your eyes; your grip on the beer in your right hand tightens, a desperate attempt to ground yourself and remain upright on the dingy basement carpet.
You couldn’t even remember how you’d gotten yourself into this situation tonight, just like the countless other nights you’d spent in god-knows-who’s house with god-knows-what in your system. You were absolutely trashed.
“Gee–rr..” You mumbled in a drawn-out slur, loud music drowning out your perception of your speech. “–rard..”
You outstretch a hand to grip on the black tee standing next to you, only to quickly realize that you’re not reaching for your best friend, but instead some stranger who’s overtaken Gerard’s spot.
You pull away, thrashing backwards and almost bumping into someone on your other side. You scan desperately for Gerard through the crowd on every side, only to find no one but yourself. You’re scared.
Why are you scared? You don’t understand; you’ve been to plenty of parties alone before and taken way more than you have tonight. Sure, you’d had more drinks than you can remember and taken weed and pills from people you can’t even name, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. Despite this, you feel so alone, and so, so scared.
Your breathing and heart rate quicken as the world spins and slows around you, tunnel vision blurring your eyes. You grip tighter on the bottle as knots burn in your stomach, slowly sinking onto the floor below before you can realize where you’re headed.
Tears are burning your cheeks and stinging your eyes, and you still don’t understand why. You feel as if you’ve been swept underwater away from everyone else, time passing you by in slow motion.
“Gee..” you whisper again, more as a silent plea to yourself than as a callout to anyone else. Everything feels so fast and slow at the same time, and you shut your eyes tight to drown the indescribable feeling.
“Hey, hey, what’s going on? Are you okay?” Gerard’s voice pulls you out from under the tide, your eyes wide and wild as you stare back into his concerned face. He’s down on the ground with you, one hand cupping your cheek as you blink slowly at him. “What’s wrong? Why are you on the floor?”
“I’m scared..” you whimper and wipe a tear from your face, discarding your bottle onto the carpet and swinging that arm around to pull him closer to you. “I’m so scared.”
“Shh, it’s okay, I’m gonna help you, okay? Fuck, you took a lotta stuff,” His substance-slurred voice lulls you into tranquil waves, pulling you to the surface and leading you outside the house’s front doors. You gasp at the sudden cold, suddenly realizing that you’re still crying and breathing in almost gasp-like intakes. “You’re okay, you’re okay, I promise.”
He leads you into the passenger’s seat of his car, a familiar place. You close your eyes again as he shuts the door, finally feeling your heart begin to settle at the comforting sights and smells of his beat up car. You rub your eyes with your palms furiously, spreading tears.
A few minutes of silence pass as you stare at Gerard; he glances over at you every few minutes with a look of worry and relief. “I’m taking you back to my place, alright?” He finally says, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “God, that could’ve been horrible. I’ve never seen you get like that before.”
You murmur in response, distracted by the way his long black hair falls so perfectly into his eyes without even trying. He really is the prettiest man in the world, and haze of drugs and alcohol make your feelings swell beyond proportion.
You’ve felt this way about Gerard for a long time now, but fear of trashing your perfect friendship scared you away from ever admitting your feelings. Well, while sober, that is.
“Are you okay?” He peeks at you while just barely turning his head. All you notice is the way the streetlights and moonlight outside glow on his face and skin; he looks like the moon itself in your eyes.
“You’re so fuckin’ pretty.”
“What?” Wide, bright eyes meet yours.
“I just.. you’re like the moon. You’re literally glowing.”
“You’re drunk. And high.” The light drapes over half of his face, outlining his contours just like the man in the moon.
“No, no, you’re just.. You’re fucking perfect. So fuckin’ perfect. And shiny.”
He turns away, the light shifting to cast itself onto the driver’s window instead of his body.
“Don’t say shit like that,” he mutters, the rumbling of an underpass filling the vehicle and blocking out the natural bluish haze of the night. “You don’t mean it.”
“Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”
Gerard sighs, choosing not to continue his responses. Although he isn’t showing it as much as you are, he drank and smoked too; the last thing he wants is to get caught up in faux feelings from your debilitated state.
”We’re almost there, and then I'll get you into bed, okay?”
“Mkay.”
The constant gentle hum of the car quickly lulls you into sleep, only rousing when Gerard pulls open your door and gently runs his fingers along your shoulder to wake you up.
“We’re here,” he smiles, and you can’t help but smile back.
He leads you through the apartment building up to his floor, quickly unlocking the door and guiding you inside. He pulls you gently by the arm into his bedroom, leaving you settled on the edge of his bed as he rummages through his closet.
Gerard comes back out holding a large band tee and sweatpants, outstretching his arms to give them to you. You scamper off to the bathroom in silence to go change.
You flick the light on and lock the door behind you before turning to look at yourself in the mirror. You frown at your messy hair and smudged makeup; you hate being like this in front of the prettiest man you know.
You groan and tug off your clothes, sliding on the oversized shirt and pants he gave you with ease. They smell just like him. It makes you happy.
You make your way back to his room, noticing that he’s now changed into flannel pajama pants and a band tee similar to the one he’s given you and gotten into bed. Your heart swells uncontrollably at the way he looks so warmly at you.
“Comfy?”
“Mhm,” You settle into the bed next to him, your arms lightly brushing together. “The most comfy.” You whisper and turn on your side to trace shapes into his arm with a finger.
“I love you, Gerard.”
He almost winces at your words, but you fail to notice. “I love you too.”
“No, like, I reaaally love you,” you giggle and wrap an arm around him without thought. “You’re so funny and smart and creative and cool and I just.. I’m in love with you.”
Gerard’s breathing hitches at your causal confession, his stomach tying up in knots from how desperately he’s wanted to say these same words to you.
“..You’re still drunk,” he sighs. “You’re still drunk, and you don’t mean that.”
He uses these words as a means to convince himself that your feelings aren’t real. You can’t possibly love him the way he’s been loving you for so painfully long.
“Why do you keep saying that?” You whimper.
“Fuck, if you don’t feel the same, just fuckin’ say that, okay?”
“I do. I really do.” Gerard turns to face you.
“But you’re wasted. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He cups your cheek with his hand again. “It’s not right.”
He feels guilty for indulging in your words; he so badly wants to pretend it’s all real, to finally get closure for his own feelings. To know you feel the same as he does.
“But I do love you, I really do..” Tears well in your eyes from your over sensitive state.
“Tell me when you’re sober, okay? Then I'll tell you the truth again too. I love you so, so much.” Gerard wraps one arm around your side, returning the embrace you began. He presses a gentle kiss into your cheek before burying his face into your shoulder and closing his eyes.
“Goodnight, baby.”
“Goodnight, Gee.”
Your eyes slowly blink open, adjusting to sunlight streaming through the bedroom you find yourself in. Fuck, wait, where are you? You don’t remember getting into a bed…
Now that you think about it, the last thing you can remember is crying at that party, and Gerard helping you up. You look around and take notice of the familiar scenery, realizing you were in his bedroom. You let out a sigh of relief before tugging off the comforter encasing you, seeing his clothes on your body.
“Gerard?”
“Yeah?” Your best friend walks in, holding a glass of orange juice in one hand and a plate of freshly-cooked french toast in the other. “I made breakfast for us– well, if you’re feeling good enough to eat, that is,” He stammers. “Totally cool if you're not. I can give it to Mikey.”
“No, I’m okay, I’d love some,” you smile genuinely at him, and he brings the plate and cup over to where you’re sitting on the foot of his bed. He settles down next to you.
“Are you feeling better? You were preeetty fucked up last night,” Gerard rests a hand comfortably on your thigh as you eat, gently rubbing with his thumb. “You kept saying you were scared.”
“Yeah, I think I’m okay now,” You reply between bites. “I dunno why that happened. That never usually happens to me.”
“Well, I’m really glad you’re okay.”
“Thank you, Gerard. It really means a lot. Honestly.”
A pause.
“This is kind of a weird question but..” You look at him awkwardly. “We– we didn’t.. do anything, right?” You gesture to his clothes you’re wearing. “I really can’t remember much after leaving the party, and I’m in your clothes...”
Gerard’s eyes widen and his cheeks blush a pale red. “No! no, I wouldn’t do that to you,” he shakes his head. “Or let you do anything like that.”
You breathe an audible sigh of relief and continue eating; Gerard looks at you with an emotion in his eyes you can’t explain.
“So, you can’t remember anything you said?” he asks quietly.
“Nope, not at all; it might come back to me, though.” You answer truthfully, but the look in his eyes remains the same.
“Why? …Did I say something weird?”
He opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something, but clearly changes his mind. He shakes his head slowly and dismissively.
“…No, it’s nothing.”