Antics
Title: Antics
Author: squoze_so_hard
Pairing: Gerard/Bert
Rating: PG-13 for language, I guess
POV: Third Person/Gerard's
Summary: “Admit it.” Gerard whispered into the dark...“That song was about me.”
Disclaimer: Not real.
Author Note: Wrote this one right after I finished Parents' Weekend. It's kind of a companion piece to 3:56 a.m., but you don't have to read it to understand. You'll miss a lot of referenced, though.
“Admit it.” Gerard whispered into the dark. There was no accusation in his voice, just a cool, calm knowing. The years had removed all of the doubt that he may have had.
The room was warm, but the cold headboard against his back made him chilly. He shivered. The man laying with his head in his lap grunted disapprovingly at the slight movement. Gerard waited as he stretched like a small child freshly awakened from an afternoon nap before settling back down onto the soft thigh beneath him.
“Well?” He asked after a long moment with no response.
“Never.” Said the voice beneath him. Though Gerard could not see his face, he could feel the smile on his leg, and hear the chuckle in his voice.
“Bert,”
“Hmm?” Came the groggy response.
“That song was about me.”
Keeping his head on Gerard's leg, Bert turned over onto his back. He stared up at the man, eyes sparkling with sleep and love,
And promptly blew a raspberry in his face.
“Berttttttt!” Gerard moaned as he wiped the spit off of his cheek and lips with his hand. “Seriously.” But Bert didn't hear him. He was too busy cracking himself the fuck up. When he finally settled down, he noticed the strong, steady pout that had appeared on Gerard's face.
“Awww,” He cooed. “What's wrong, lover?”
Gerard couldn't help but respond. What kind of monster would he be if he didn't respond to that name, said by that low, husky voice?
“You're such a jerk. You'll never just admit it.” He whined.
“Admit what, GeeBaby?” Bert drawled as he playfully nipped at the man's skin.
“Hey!” Gerard yelped and pinched the man beneath him. Bert gave a jump and a giggle as he rubbed his shoulder. “Stop trying to distract me.”
“I'm not.” Bert said, the sleep now gone from his voice. “You're overreacting.”
“Bullshit, McCracken.” Gerard scoffed. “You may be able to fool the fans, but not this kid.” Bert loved the fact that Gerard still saw himself as an eighteen year old boy, even though the both of them were in their 30s. He sat up and ruffled the man's already tousled dark hair. Gerard leaned over to rest his head on Bert's shoulder. They had done this before. Gerard would accuse Bert of writing him into every song on “Lies for the Liars” and Bert would deny, deny, deny.
But this time, Gerard could prove it.
“Alright,” Bert said while chewing on a strand of his hair. “State your proof.”
“Okay,” Gerard sat up straight and cleared his throat. “First there's the fact that you're a dick.”
“Wha-” Bert started to interject, but was unceremoniously hushed by Gerard.
“Uh, uh. Let me finish. First, there's the fact that you're a dick. Do you honestly think that I wouldn't recognize my own life?” Gerard pulled out a sheet of paper from under the pillow behind him and cleared his throat for the second time that night.
Before I could ever let you go,
Gonna beg until I drive you mad
and say something you could understand
I'm a statue baby, knock me out
“Please, Gerard. Please. Just break up with me.” Bert groaned tiredly. He couldn't look Gerard in the eye. He couldn't make him understand that he needed this, more than anything.
“Stop, Bert. Just stop. You're driving me fucking crazy. I don't understand what you're trying to do to me here!” Gerard was at his wit's end. He had stepped out of his hotel room to smoke in peace while the rest of the gang raged in his room over Donkey Kong. He'd found Bert outside, sniffling in the shadowy light. They'd had a really bad fight that night. Their first. They had both said horrible things to each other and Bert had taken off some time before dinner. He hadn't seen or heard from him since. He'd begun to worry.
Gerard walked him back to his room across the parking lot where Bert refused to say a word. That is, until Gerard got courageous and approached Bert from across the room. He took his chin gently in his hand, trying to get Bert to look at him. That's when he pulled away. That's when he snapped.
“They're all just words, Gerard. They're swirling in my head and what can I say to make you understand? I'm fucking frozen. I'm dead.”
“Where did you get that?” Bert asked, pointing to the paper. He thought that he'd lost his first draft of 'Paralyzed' some while ago on the road.
“That's none of your concern.” Gerard said snidely. Let's see, what's next...” Gerard quickly scanned through the chorus of the song as Bert mumbled something about him being a 'fucking magician'. “Okay, really though. How can you deny it? “How could a fistfight be romantic?” I think you know.”
When Brian first told Gerard that the Used would be re-joining the tour, Gerard almost took his fucking head off. No. Fucking. Way., no pun intended, was he sharing space with that fucker again. When they showed up in the hotel lobby the next morning, Gerard stared icily at the man as he received his room assignment before storming up the stairs to his fourth-floor suite. Bert had look around as to say 'what did I do?' before Brian roughly grabbed him by the collar and told him to fix it.
“Just fucking fix it.”
He took the stairs up to the top floor and used the key that Bob had given him to open the door.
“Gee?” He called out as he entered. No one answered. He walked through the room to the other that was connected to it. No Gerard.
The sound of feet behind him caused him to turn around quickly. Gerard was approaching fast.
And he did not look happy. Not one fucking bit.
He had to think of something to say FAST before the older man decided to run him over all together.
“Hey, Geetard!”
Gerard stopped dead in his tracks, right on top of him. He was breathing heavily. He stared intently at him for what felt like a long time. Bert was starting to get nervous.
“Take off your pants.” Gerard finally said. Bert looked at him with confusion, fear and concern.
“What?” He hadn't seen that Gerard had cocked back his fist, ready to strike ,until it connected with his jaw.
And fuck, did it hurt. He rubbed his face and spit out the blood that had collected in his mouth, but showed no sign of pain.
He knew that he kind of deserved that one.
“Take them off.” This time, Bert did as he was told. He undid his zip and hastily kicked off his jeans, both legs at once. He had never felt awkward in just his boxers around anyone before, let alone Gerard of all people, until now.
“Now what?” Bert asked. Gerard pulled his hand back and hit him again, then prepared to hit him a third time. This time, Bert was ready. He grabbed the offensive arm and pulled it close to his heart. Gerard tried to spin out of his grip, but Bert just pulled his entire body to him, holding him tight. So close that he could barely breathe.
“I hate you.” Gerard spit. His arms bound, he opted to kick Bert in the shin. As the man went down in pain, he jumped on top of him so that Bert's chest was on the floor, his back to Gerard.
“I hate you too, you fuck.” Bert gasped as Gerard bit his ear hard. He tried in vain to show protest instead of arousal. The moan erupted from his throat before he could stop it. When he heard Gerard chuckle cruelly from above, he knew that he was in trouble.
“You love me.” Gerard shot back.“You filthy fucking liar.”
Jesus fucking christ, Bert thought before his mind went blank, was it good to be back.
“Hmm,” Bert purred. “That was hot.” Gerard swatted him playfully.
“Not the point!”
“What is your point, darling?” Bert asked challengingly.
“My point , Robert Eugene McCracken,” Bert shot him a dirty look that he ignored. “is that I am neither a spastic, nor a girl!”
“Are you sure that's it? Because I think that you're trying to prove that I listened to you for once.”
“ I don't know, man.” Gerard said deep in thought. “To me, they're not just lyrics. They're like replays of every significant conversation I've ever had.” At this, Bert Scoffed.“You should try it, man” He said in defense. Bert just gave what was to become one of his infamous chuckles and blew out the smoke from his cigarette.
“That's sick dude. You are one sick fuck.”
“You, Gerard Marie Way,” Bert said while propping himself up on his elbow “Are a Credit Queen. You just want to walk around here all smug knowing that you were my inspiration for a great album. Sorry Princess, but Bertie Bear is not about to stroke that ego of yours.”
“Bert. My middle name is not Marie.”
“I know. It's King Arthur.” Gerard rolled his eyes.
“Right. Listen.” He said as if speaking to a young child. “I need to know that even when we loathed each other, there was still something in you that still wanted me. All that the fans know is that 'Pretty Handsome Awkward' is “ about a guy with short blonde hair”. Whether it's about me or not, they all believe that it is. All that they know is that you fucking hated my guts.”
Gerard read from the paper once more.
“Yeah, I know you feel the same
You gotta let me know
I'm dying inside to know
Knock me out
I'm dying inside to know
Let me know
Knock me out “
“Gerard.” Bert said.
“Yes?”
“'Loathed' is the gayest word ever.” Gerard gave a deep sigh of exasperation.
“You, Bert McCracken, are the bane of my existence.” Bert chuckled.
“Of course I loved you, you fuck. That night, when you took me back to my hotel, I didn't know how to say any of what I was feeling. Now I do.”
Gerard had to hear this one.
“I was afraid because I thought that I was losing myself in us. I wasn't wrong. I was dying. But I should have realized that I was being born again at the same time. I was becoming this fucking person who saw colors and love and fucking neon-blooded unicorns in my sleep! Do you know how terrifying it is to realize that all of a sudden, Gerard fucking Way makes absolute sense? It's pretty fucking scary.” Bert patted Gerard's head in satisfaction and slid down his body. He snuggled down on the mattress, pulling the older man with him.
Gerard laid there quietly for a long time. “Bert?” He said after a while.
“Hmm?”
“Paralyzed was totally about me.” He whispered confidently. “Admit it.” Bert pulled him closer and kissed his cheek.
“Not a chance.”
Author: squoze_so_hard
Pairing: Gerard/Bert
Rating: PG-13 for language, I guess
POV: Third Person/Gerard's
Summary: “Admit it.” Gerard whispered into the dark...“That song was about me.”
Disclaimer: Not real.
Author Note: Wrote this one right after I finished Parents' Weekend. It's kind of a companion piece to 3:56 a.m., but you don't have to read it to understand. You'll miss a lot of referenced, though.
“Admit it.” Gerard whispered into the dark. There was no accusation in his voice, just a cool, calm knowing. The years had removed all of the doubt that he may have had.
The room was warm, but the cold headboard against his back made him chilly. He shivered. The man laying with his head in his lap grunted disapprovingly at the slight movement. Gerard waited as he stretched like a small child freshly awakened from an afternoon nap before settling back down onto the soft thigh beneath him.
“Well?” He asked after a long moment with no response.
“Never.” Said the voice beneath him. Though Gerard could not see his face, he could feel the smile on his leg, and hear the chuckle in his voice.
“Bert,”
“Hmm?” Came the groggy response.
“That song was about me.”
Keeping his head on Gerard's leg, Bert turned over onto his back. He stared up at the man, eyes sparkling with sleep and love,
And promptly blew a raspberry in his face.
“Berttttttt!” Gerard moaned as he wiped the spit off of his cheek and lips with his hand. “Seriously.” But Bert didn't hear him. He was too busy cracking himself the fuck up. When he finally settled down, he noticed the strong, steady pout that had appeared on Gerard's face.
“Awww,” He cooed. “What's wrong, lover?”
Gerard couldn't help but respond. What kind of monster would he be if he didn't respond to that name, said by that low, husky voice?
“You're such a jerk. You'll never just admit it.” He whined.
“Admit what, GeeBaby?” Bert drawled as he playfully nipped at the man's skin.
“Hey!” Gerard yelped and pinched the man beneath him. Bert gave a jump and a giggle as he rubbed his shoulder. “Stop trying to distract me.”
“I'm not.” Bert said, the sleep now gone from his voice. “You're overreacting.”
“Bullshit, McCracken.” Gerard scoffed. “You may be able to fool the fans, but not this kid.” Bert loved the fact that Gerard still saw himself as an eighteen year old boy, even though the both of them were in their 30s. He sat up and ruffled the man's already tousled dark hair. Gerard leaned over to rest his head on Bert's shoulder. They had done this before. Gerard would accuse Bert of writing him into every song on “Lies for the Liars” and Bert would deny, deny, deny.
But this time, Gerard could prove it.
“Alright,” Bert said while chewing on a strand of his hair. “State your proof.”
“Okay,” Gerard sat up straight and cleared his throat. “First there's the fact that you're a dick.”
“Wha-” Bert started to interject, but was unceremoniously hushed by Gerard.
“Uh, uh. Let me finish. First, there's the fact that you're a dick. Do you honestly think that I wouldn't recognize my own life?” Gerard pulled out a sheet of paper from under the pillow behind him and cleared his throat for the second time that night.
Before I could ever let you go,
Gonna beg until I drive you mad
and say something you could understand
I'm a statue baby, knock me out
“Please, Gerard. Please. Just break up with me.” Bert groaned tiredly. He couldn't look Gerard in the eye. He couldn't make him understand that he needed this, more than anything.
“Stop, Bert. Just stop. You're driving me fucking crazy. I don't understand what you're trying to do to me here!” Gerard was at his wit's end. He had stepped out of his hotel room to smoke in peace while the rest of the gang raged in his room over Donkey Kong. He'd found Bert outside, sniffling in the shadowy light. They'd had a really bad fight that night. Their first. They had both said horrible things to each other and Bert had taken off some time before dinner. He hadn't seen or heard from him since. He'd begun to worry.
Gerard walked him back to his room across the parking lot where Bert refused to say a word. That is, until Gerard got courageous and approached Bert from across the room. He took his chin gently in his hand, trying to get Bert to look at him. That's when he pulled away. That's when he snapped.
“They're all just words, Gerard. They're swirling in my head and what can I say to make you understand? I'm fucking frozen. I'm dead.”
“Where did you get that?” Bert asked, pointing to the paper. He thought that he'd lost his first draft of 'Paralyzed' some while ago on the road.
“That's none of your concern.” Gerard said snidely. Let's see, what's next...” Gerard quickly scanned through the chorus of the song as Bert mumbled something about him being a 'fucking magician'. “Okay, really though. How can you deny it? “How could a fistfight be romantic?” I think you know.”
When Brian first told Gerard that the Used would be re-joining the tour, Gerard almost took his fucking head off. No. Fucking. Way., no pun intended, was he sharing space with that fucker again. When they showed up in the hotel lobby the next morning, Gerard stared icily at the man as he received his room assignment before storming up the stairs to his fourth-floor suite. Bert had look around as to say 'what did I do?' before Brian roughly grabbed him by the collar and told him to fix it.
“Just fucking fix it.”
He took the stairs up to the top floor and used the key that Bob had given him to open the door.
“Gee?” He called out as he entered. No one answered. He walked through the room to the other that was connected to it. No Gerard.
The sound of feet behind him caused him to turn around quickly. Gerard was approaching fast.
And he did not look happy. Not one fucking bit.
He had to think of something to say FAST before the older man decided to run him over all together.
“Hey, Geetard!”
Gerard stopped dead in his tracks, right on top of him. He was breathing heavily. He stared intently at him for what felt like a long time. Bert was starting to get nervous.
“Take off your pants.” Gerard finally said. Bert looked at him with confusion, fear and concern.
“What?” He hadn't seen that Gerard had cocked back his fist, ready to strike ,until it connected with his jaw.
And fuck, did it hurt. He rubbed his face and spit out the blood that had collected in his mouth, but showed no sign of pain.
He knew that he kind of deserved that one.
“Take them off.” This time, Bert did as he was told. He undid his zip and hastily kicked off his jeans, both legs at once. He had never felt awkward in just his boxers around anyone before, let alone Gerard of all people, until now.
“Now what?” Bert asked. Gerard pulled his hand back and hit him again, then prepared to hit him a third time. This time, Bert was ready. He grabbed the offensive arm and pulled it close to his heart. Gerard tried to spin out of his grip, but Bert just pulled his entire body to him, holding him tight. So close that he could barely breathe.
“I hate you.” Gerard spit. His arms bound, he opted to kick Bert in the shin. As the man went down in pain, he jumped on top of him so that Bert's chest was on the floor, his back to Gerard.
“I hate you too, you fuck.” Bert gasped as Gerard bit his ear hard. He tried in vain to show protest instead of arousal. The moan erupted from his throat before he could stop it. When he heard Gerard chuckle cruelly from above, he knew that he was in trouble.
“You love me.” Gerard shot back.“You filthy fucking liar.”
Jesus fucking christ, Bert thought before his mind went blank, was it good to be back.
“Hmm,” Bert purred. “That was hot.” Gerard swatted him playfully.
“Not the point!”
“What is your point, darling?” Bert asked challengingly.
“My point , Robert Eugene McCracken,” Bert shot him a dirty look that he ignored. “is that I am neither a spastic, nor a girl!”
“Are you sure that's it? Because I think that you're trying to prove that I listened to you for once.”
“ I don't know, man.” Gerard said deep in thought. “To me, they're not just lyrics. They're like replays of every significant conversation I've ever had.” At this, Bert Scoffed.“You should try it, man” He said in defense. Bert just gave what was to become one of his infamous chuckles and blew out the smoke from his cigarette.
“That's sick dude. You are one sick fuck.”
“You, Gerard Marie Way,” Bert said while propping himself up on his elbow “Are a Credit Queen. You just want to walk around here all smug knowing that you were my inspiration for a great album. Sorry Princess, but Bertie Bear is not about to stroke that ego of yours.”
“Bert. My middle name is not Marie.”
“I know. It's King Arthur.” Gerard rolled his eyes.
“Right. Listen.” He said as if speaking to a young child. “I need to know that even when we loathed each other, there was still something in you that still wanted me. All that the fans know is that 'Pretty Handsome Awkward' is “ about a guy with short blonde hair”. Whether it's about me or not, they all believe that it is. All that they know is that you fucking hated my guts.”
Gerard read from the paper once more.
“Yeah, I know you feel the same
You gotta let me know
I'm dying inside to know
Knock me out
I'm dying inside to know
Let me know
Knock me out “
“Gerard.” Bert said.
“Yes?”
“'Loathed' is the gayest word ever.” Gerard gave a deep sigh of exasperation.
“You, Bert McCracken, are the bane of my existence.” Bert chuckled.
“Of course I loved you, you fuck. That night, when you took me back to my hotel, I didn't know how to say any of what I was feeling. Now I do.”
Gerard had to hear this one.
“I was afraid because I thought that I was losing myself in us. I wasn't wrong. I was dying. But I should have realized that I was being born again at the same time. I was becoming this fucking person who saw colors and love and fucking neon-blooded unicorns in my sleep! Do you know how terrifying it is to realize that all of a sudden, Gerard fucking Way makes absolute sense? It's pretty fucking scary.” Bert patted Gerard's head in satisfaction and slid down his body. He snuggled down on the mattress, pulling the older man with him.
Gerard laid there quietly for a long time. “Bert?” He said after a while.
“Hmm?”
“Paralyzed was totally about me.” He whispered confidently. “Admit it.” Bert pulled him closer and kissed his cheek.
“Not a chance.”