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Notes: I’d like to say this is set the December before they moved into the Paramour to write The Black Parade, but it could probably fit anywhere before that album since I wasn’t terribly specific.
The soft crunch of his boots in the snow would be considered a pleasant noise by most; at least, when you’re with your four best friends and your manager at a lodge in the woods for the Holidays, you’d be expected to enjoy winter, or at least the fluffy white crap falling lazily from the sky.
Frank Iero was not a winter person. It wasn’t so much that he disliked snow, or suffered from Seasonal Affective Disorder like Brian did. He just hated being fucking cold.
And that was how he found himself now. Frozen from his toes to his knees, ankle deep in snow, thick fur-lined coat pulled tightly around him, hood riding low over his eyes, the gentle whips of faux fur tickling his forehead. It felt like he’d almost walked a half-mile into the surrounding woods, following the footprints carefully laid out before him, until he finally found Gerard.
The singer was standing under a circle of evergreens, each one of them a more perfect Christmas tree shape that then next, the snow covering their branches like cheap tinsel. Gerard’s head was titled back, hood down, his hair brushing his shoulders each time his gaze shifted slightly. His hands were in his pockets, though it looked like a purely relaxed place for them to be, rather than an attempt at keeping them warm. Gerard didn’t seem effected by the cold at all. By looking at him the only sign that told it actually was cold out were the faint wisps of breath every time he exhaled.
Frank sighed, shaking his head slightly as he stepped up next to him, tilting his head back and squinting, trying to see what the artist saw.
Just a bunch of fucking trees.
“Mind telling me why you’re all the way out here instead of inside by the fire listening to one of Toro’s stories?”
Gerard turned his head, the most perfect, childlike grin spreading over his face, his voice light, almost as light at the snow that was slowly collecting in his hair. “I wanted to make a snow angel.”
A flake landed on Frank’s eyelid, getting quickly stuck in his lashes. He blinked rapidly, moving a gloved hand up to wipe the offending bit of frozen rain out of his eye. “You’re wanted to what?”
“I wanted to make a snow angel.”
The reiteration of the answer didn’t, as Frank had hoped, shed any logical light on the situation. He shook his head, half laughing, half sighing. “And you had to walk all the fucking way out here to do it? You couldn’t just make one by the lodge?”
Gerard simply shrugged, turning his face back to the trees. “You didn’t have to follow me.”
“True.”
Frank’s answer was barely off his lips before Gerard took a step back, arms spread out wide on either side of him, his fingers splayed like the points of a star. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and fell back into the snow, completely unflinching, a soft puff of displaced snow rising up in his wake.
The smaller man turned around, first blinking at his friend in mild surprise, then chuckling softly, moving his hands in front of himself to rub them together, blowing on them in a vein attempt to draw feeling back into his frozen digits. “You’re crazy.”
Gerard giggled from where he lay, that breathy giggle that was as familiar to Frank as his own deeper, more mischievous one. The older man smiled at Frank, eyes shining with pure mirth. “I know.”
Frank wrapped his arms around himself, tucking his hands up under his arms. He shivered, not hard enough for his teeth to chatter, but still a very noticeable shake. He turned his face to look back the way they came, aching to return to the fucking fire already. “So, you gonna make the damn snow angel or what?”
“I was waiting for you.”
Frank glanced back at Gerard, blinking slowly once, then shaking his head just as slowly. “You really are fucking crazy if you think I’m lying down in that shit.”
Gerard smile slowly melted into a pout, the kind of pout only Gerard could manage, at once pathetic and childish, but also incredibly endearing. The snow was still falling around them, tiny ones colleting in Gerard long lashes, the singer making no move to blink them away. He didn’t even have to say anything; Frank heard the plea ringing clear as if it had actually been spoken aloud. He gave a heavy sigh, muttering a soft ‘lunatic’ under his breath as he moved to stand beside Gerard. He spread his arms, not as wide or as gracefully as Gerard had, and then more or less flopped down into the snow.
There was that giggle again, and Frank raised one hand up, middle finger expertly on display.
“Put your damn arm down, Frank, and make a fucking snow angel with me.”
The smaller man rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. You crazy bastard.”
Gerard didn’t move his arms until Frank did, his long limbs gliding from his hips to his ears, slowly and carefully, like he were painting the most precious picture in the world. His legs moved as well, his left foot almost brushing Frank’s as they moved over the frosted ground.
Frank’s arms moved less enthusiastically, his strokes far less reaching, only consenting to wiggle a bit, his legs barely moving at all, though whether this was because he simply wasn’t enjoying the random winter frolic, or because he didn’t want to upset Gerard’s own perfect angel, he wasn’t sure. He quickly got to his feet again, shaking his head. His fingers itched for a cigarette, and he mourned the fact that he’d left his pack in the lodge. “Happy now?”
Gerard didn’t move from his spot, his arms coming to a slow stop right in the middle of his snow angel’s massive wings. His smile was lazily, almost dreamy, and though his eyes were focused toward Frank, it was very clear that he wasn’t really looking at him. “I always wanted to do that.”
Frank met Gerard eyes, and finally the singer’s seemed to fix on his. “You’ve never made a snow angel before?”
Gerard just shook his head, hair splaying out behind him, inky black mingling with the pure white fluff. He closed his eyes then, sighing slowly, and very happily.
“Can we go back now?”
Gerard’s eyes slowly fluttered open again, finally blinking away the tiny flakes that dotted his lashes and eyelids. He gazed almost sleepily at Frank for a long moment, looking half drunk, though Frank knew there was no liquor for miles around.
So it was that when Gerard’s leg moved out suddenly, boot hooking around Frank’s ankle and giving a sharp tug, Frank squeaked, high pitched and somewhat choked. He lost his balance quickly, falling half on top of Gerard, their chests together, Frank’s legs splayed out at awkward angles.
After a slight pause Frank shifted, lifting himself up on his arms and propping himself up just far enough so that he could meet Gerard’s eyes. He blinked just a tad less than rapidly and he realized quickly that his fall had completely ruined Gerard’s perfect snow angel. He frowned, speaking softly, almost a whisper. “Sorry, your angel…”
The giggle was back, though it was softer now, Gerard’s arms sliding their way around Frank in a loose hug, hands resting over Frank’s coat, near the small of his back. “It’s perfect.”
Frank was sure his cheeks were red, and he was glad that he could probably blame it on the cold later, not the fact that Gerard’s arms around him felt like they belonged there, or the fact that it had been too long since they’d been this close. He hadn’t realized until just then that he’d missed Gerard arms, missed their quiet, intimate moments. The band had consumed the. They hardly had time to spare for their proper lovers, spare time for just the two of them virtually nonexistent. He sighed softly, breath collecting in the air between them, his eyelids fluttering, if only just slightly.
“I’ve missed you.”
Frank could never understand how Gerard could just look into him and pull from his own mind exactly what he was thinking, what he wanted to say, but couldn’t find the means.
Frank’s lips found Gerard’s, though he wasn’t even properly aware that he had shifted, somehow leaning down on pure reflex. Gerard’s lips were oddly warm, compared to his own anyway, and he envied him, able to stay warm despite the chill outside. There were a few moments of them simply holding the gentle pressing of lips, until Gerard’s mouth moved, tongue gliding as only his could, carefully and expertly deepening the kiss. One of his hands moved up Frank’s back, ducking into his hood, fingers threading and sliding gently through Frank’s dye-softend hair.
It was almost too perfect, Gerard’s kiss. It made his chest ache, like a cherished memory from childhood, something one locks away to recall on a rainy day. Not that Frank minded the rain; he actually much preferred it to snow.
The hand Gerard still had to his back moved, slowly brushing down over Frank’s hip. A sharp little gasp broke their kiss for a moment as Frank pulled away. Gerard’s hand was now between them, rubbing slow, lazy circles between Frank’s thighs.
“You’re a b-bastard.”
Gerard chuckled softly, eyelids heavy; his eyes just tiny slits of color now as he gazed lazily up at Frank. “It’s what you love about me.”
Frank whimpered as Gerard’s hand gave him a proper squeeze. He took in a quick, shaky breath, head bowing forward, his forehead resting against Gerard’s shoulder as his eyes shut properly.
Gerard’s hand shifted again, moving up under Frank’s coat. His fingers carefully unbuckled his belt, working the button of Frank’s jeans open after. He drew the zipper down and then paused, just the tips of his fingers slipping past Frank’s boxers, brushing icy trails over warm skin.
Frank swallowed hard; licking his lips a bit before speaking, voice soft and very heavy. “Don’t… don’t stop…”
Gerard turned his head slightly, pressing his lips to Frank’s temple in a soft, lingering kiss, lips moving against Frank’s skin as he whispered to him. “I’m glad you followed me.”
Frank didn’t even get a chance to reply, Gerard’s hand slipping properly into his boxers as he spoke. A low groan fell from his lips as that familiar hand wrapped around hot skin, slowly and carefully stroking. Gerard had a way of knowing just how to touch him, just how much pressure to use, and where to use it. It wasn’t long before Frank was panting, his head turning to press his face to Gerard’s neck, his scent almost as intoxicating as the motions of his hand.
As Gerard increased the pace of his strokes, drawing Frank closer and closer to euphoria, he continued to press Frank with lingering kisses, softly murmuring half words into his hair. A few more careful strokes and Frank’s breath hitched, his whole body seizing up for a pause and then practically collapsing against Gerard as his pants returned.
Gerard’s hand continued to glide over him, then slowly drew away. He cleaned his palm off in the snow, then moved it back to Frank’s back, under Frank’s coat, fingers trailing up and down Frank’s spine. The hand still in Frank’s hair gripped lightly, tugging Frank’s face back to his, their lips meeting even more gently than before.
The kiss lasted for a few long, slow moments, then Frank pulled back, looking down at Gerard, eyes shining slightly in the winter air. “You really are a bastard.”
Gerard half chuckled, lips spreading in an easy, if slightly devious, grin. “You’re warmer now, though.”
Frank blinked at Gerard, then laughed properly, the sound echoing through the woods. He gripped Gerard’s shoulders, moving suddenly and rolling over, pulling Gerard with him, successfully reversing their positions.
“Your turn now, I think.”
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