For What It's Worth
Title: For What It’s Worth
Fandom: My Chemical Romance
Category: One shot; exorcism...
Pairings: Implied Ray Toro/James Dewees, past Bert/Gerard - Bert/Gerard/Ray - Bert/Ray - Gerard/Ray, present Gerard/Lyn-Z and Ray/Christa...
POV: Ray’s; 1st person...
Rating: NC-17 in a manner of speaking...
Word Count: ~1700
Summary: Ray has something to say, questions to ask, and something he wants someone to finally admit...
Author’s note: Brought to you by our early morning sponsor; insomnia...
It never fails the minute after something happens with James you’re on the phone. Why you continue to fucking call and check up on me… I’ll never know. You’re a married man now. Why do you still care? It’s not like we ever talk about this shit anymore. No, wait a second, it’s not like we talked about this shit ever.
Come on, you can’t seriously look me in the face and tell me you don’t remember the first time it happened. This is me finally bringing it up. This is me exorcising the demons you forever looked past. And why? Because of James mother fucking Dewees.
What? You can’t accept that maybe you weren’t the only guy that I ever questioned myself over? That you weren't the only guy I ever felt something more than friendship for? What? You don’t think Christa and I lay in bed until the early hours of the morning discussing this shit? Well, we have… and you know what else. I’ve even told her about you.
She knows about the first time… the second… and hell, even the last. She knows, Gee, she fucking knows. And she still loves me. It’s the damnedest thing. All the things I’ve done. Everything I’ve let happen and she doesn’t hold a single thing against me. It feels too good to be true.
Now don’t go getting all defensive… I’m not saying you do. Or that you ever held anything against me… Shit, I still can’t even comprehend why you were so chill about what happened when you were up in North Bergen visiting Elena. I was so fucking confused and so scared. After all that had happened that day, when I picked up the phone my biggest fear was losing you. You don’t even know.
So, let’s talk about this shit. Let’s air our dirty laundry. Come on, Gee… it’s only fucking fair. It’s not like I want to talk to Barbara Walters about it. Not even Larry fucking King. No, I just want you to acknowledge that it happened. I want you to admit that for at least two out of three times that you were there.
I was so fucking in love with you, you know? It never mattered to me that none of the girls at our school paid us no mind. The constant trials of trying to get some skanked out Jersey bitch to give me a second glance never really affected me. Just watching you, I knew they’d never hook up with you… with either of us. You were too good for them. I’m not saying that I was, but you were. You still are. I remember sitting through your feminist tirades about how all the goons at our school were misogynistic assholes, meanwhile the very same girl that had turned you down for Saturday night was down on her knees for some jock behind the bleachers at that very moment. You never did get it… do you now, even?
Hell, I got sidetracked. Right. So, I was in love with you. You were the reason I went to school. Seriously. No, really. Every fucking word about my face, my hair, my lineage… my love of Angus Young, I tolerated because of you. And that night, that night… what were you thinking?
What the fuck were you thinking?
God! The only dicks I’d ever seen in my life up until that night had been my own and my Pappi’s. And the latter was a fucking accident and the reason the Toro-Ortiz bathroom doors to this day are always locked even if you’re just ‘washing your hands’. Anyway… I’d always figured you were a little fruity. Hell, the girl power shit gave you away before you knew what it was I think.
But there you were curled up on the opposite end of the bed with him. Some cheesy horror movie playing on your TV; the basement as dark and as wondrously dank as ever. At the beginning I had thought you guys had forgotten I was even there. Hind sight 20-20, it wouldn’t be the first time I’d ever been forgotten. His hand was buried in your hair and I swear you two were kissing like it was as necessary as breathing. Hell, just watching you guys go at it, I forgot to breathe. Almost every single thought in my mind screamed for me to leave… save but one. And it was that solitary thought that changed the entire night. That changed our entire fucking lives, if you are up to admitting that shit.
When his hand first slid up my thigh, I nearly choked on my popcorn. You see? I’d been stuffing my face with old maids and sucking the salt n’butter off of kernels for the better part of an hour just trying to pretend I wasn‘t there. But when I saw you… and your fingers walking over the zipper of his jeans, I about died. You wouldn’t. Not with me there right. I wasn’t that invisible, was I? It turns out I wasn’t. I never met your eyes once. Even when our lips were inches away from each others. I mean, really… how could I look you in the face when my lips were wrapped around your boyfriend’s cock?
Not once did you ever mention that night after that. Not once. Did you know that I went home afterwards and changed like ten fucking times trying to put on something you’d both think was hot? All because he’d invited me to go out with the two of you that evening. Do you know how it fucking felt to be walking up your street and see his car drive away with you in it? Again, hind sight 20-20, it felt familiar. That’s fucking what.
Can you say it yet? Or are you still in denial?
What about the second time? He had to have known something was up at that point. He didn’t even let me touch you that time. Didn’t it bother you? How could you press yourself up against him like that; kissing his lying fucking lips… looking deep into his eyes that betrayed just how orchestrated the entire fucking afternoon was… how could you just lay there and let him fuck me? Why didn’t you hate me for it? Why didn’t you stop it? You had to have known I was only doing it for you. You had to.
Getting back to the here and now… I’m honestly amazed that Christa can even sit across from you and her and not tear your head off. Every forgotten whisper you shared, she knows dude. Because I have kept nothing from her. Things I couldn’t even accept myself… I’ve come to terms with in her arms.
And everyone gets so piss scared when I hang out with James. Especially you. I don’t understand. He and I… we’ve never. We’ve never done the shit you and I have done. But, James? James would never pretend it never happened the morning after. Shit, no… he’d write a song about it and prance around on stage in women’s underwear. Just like you use to do…
And I’m sitting here smiling now despite what we both know I’m about to talk about. I miss you, Gerard. I know, I know… we’ve been on tour together for years now. But, you have to admit… neither of us are who we use to be. And no shit, that’s a good thing. But it doesn’t mean that I don’t look back and wish things had happened differently.
So, there you were in North Bergen and my bored ass down in Jersey City when who should drop by the neighborhood but Bert fucking McCracken. We’d never really talked outside of those two times. God, he must have thought I was such a naïve little slut. For a while, I know I thought I was. And yeah, it started out one way and ended another. He crossed the fucking line when he covered my mouth and told me to shut the fuck up. He crossed the line when he didn’t stop when tears were brimming in my fucking eyes. Why couldn’t you have been there that day? Why couldn’t you have seen the monster I’d always known lurked behind his cold and calculating lies. He was so fucking sure that my crush on you would keep my lips sealed. It didn’t. Even though I knew you weren’t going to be my friend after the phone conversation ended.
I was wrong. For what it’s worth, I was wrong. And maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised that you saw it for what it really was before I was willing to accept what had happened to me. I never did thank you. And I still don’t understand how you looked past that. Then and now. Was it because you were ashamed of letting the previous times happen? Did you feel a single iota for me that I did for you? I will never fucking know.
So there we have it. All I needed was a fucking apology; or maybe one single whispered confession. Sure, all I ever wanted was you… but there was just too high of a price to pay. I hope you’re happier now. I hope she doesn’t make you feel as down on yourself as he did. And I pray to all that is holy that she never once considers it okay to fuck with you and yours the way he did.
Are you sorry? Seriously, looking back and accepting that this shit happened… are you sorry you met me? Will you still look at me with those big, innocent-seeming eyes and bounce like a toddler on a double shot of expresso when I ask if you still want to be my best man? Will you be there when I recite my vows and finally say good-bye to what we never had… forever?
Fandom: My Chemical Romance
Category: One shot; exorcism...
Pairings: Implied Ray Toro/James Dewees, past Bert/Gerard - Bert/Gerard/Ray - Bert/Ray - Gerard/Ray, present Gerard/Lyn-Z and Ray/Christa...
POV: Ray’s; 1st person...
Rating: NC-17 in a manner of speaking...
Word Count: ~1700
Summary: Ray has something to say, questions to ask, and something he wants someone to finally admit...
Author’s note: Brought to you by our early morning sponsor; insomnia...
It never fails the minute after something happens with James you’re on the phone. Why you continue to fucking call and check up on me… I’ll never know. You’re a married man now. Why do you still care? It’s not like we ever talk about this shit anymore. No, wait a second, it’s not like we talked about this shit ever.
Come on, you can’t seriously look me in the face and tell me you don’t remember the first time it happened. This is me finally bringing it up. This is me exorcising the demons you forever looked past. And why? Because of James mother fucking Dewees.
What? You can’t accept that maybe you weren’t the only guy that I ever questioned myself over? That you weren't the only guy I ever felt something more than friendship for? What? You don’t think Christa and I lay in bed until the early hours of the morning discussing this shit? Well, we have… and you know what else. I’ve even told her about you.
She knows about the first time… the second… and hell, even the last. She knows, Gee, she fucking knows. And she still loves me. It’s the damnedest thing. All the things I’ve done. Everything I’ve let happen and she doesn’t hold a single thing against me. It feels too good to be true.
Now don’t go getting all defensive… I’m not saying you do. Or that you ever held anything against me… Shit, I still can’t even comprehend why you were so chill about what happened when you were up in North Bergen visiting Elena. I was so fucking confused and so scared. After all that had happened that day, when I picked up the phone my biggest fear was losing you. You don’t even know.
So, let’s talk about this shit. Let’s air our dirty laundry. Come on, Gee… it’s only fucking fair. It’s not like I want to talk to Barbara Walters about it. Not even Larry fucking King. No, I just want you to acknowledge that it happened. I want you to admit that for at least two out of three times that you were there.
I was so fucking in love with you, you know? It never mattered to me that none of the girls at our school paid us no mind. The constant trials of trying to get some skanked out Jersey bitch to give me a second glance never really affected me. Just watching you, I knew they’d never hook up with you… with either of us. You were too good for them. I’m not saying that I was, but you were. You still are. I remember sitting through your feminist tirades about how all the goons at our school were misogynistic assholes, meanwhile the very same girl that had turned you down for Saturday night was down on her knees for some jock behind the bleachers at that very moment. You never did get it… do you now, even?
Hell, I got sidetracked. Right. So, I was in love with you. You were the reason I went to school. Seriously. No, really. Every fucking word about my face, my hair, my lineage… my love of Angus Young, I tolerated because of you. And that night, that night… what were you thinking?
What the fuck were you thinking?
God! The only dicks I’d ever seen in my life up until that night had been my own and my Pappi’s. And the latter was a fucking accident and the reason the Toro-Ortiz bathroom doors to this day are always locked even if you’re just ‘washing your hands’. Anyway… I’d always figured you were a little fruity. Hell, the girl power shit gave you away before you knew what it was I think.
But there you were curled up on the opposite end of the bed with him. Some cheesy horror movie playing on your TV; the basement as dark and as wondrously dank as ever. At the beginning I had thought you guys had forgotten I was even there. Hind sight 20-20, it wouldn’t be the first time I’d ever been forgotten. His hand was buried in your hair and I swear you two were kissing like it was as necessary as breathing. Hell, just watching you guys go at it, I forgot to breathe. Almost every single thought in my mind screamed for me to leave… save but one. And it was that solitary thought that changed the entire night. That changed our entire fucking lives, if you are up to admitting that shit.
When his hand first slid up my thigh, I nearly choked on my popcorn. You see? I’d been stuffing my face with old maids and sucking the salt n’butter off of kernels for the better part of an hour just trying to pretend I wasn‘t there. But when I saw you… and your fingers walking over the zipper of his jeans, I about died. You wouldn’t. Not with me there right. I wasn’t that invisible, was I? It turns out I wasn’t. I never met your eyes once. Even when our lips were inches away from each others. I mean, really… how could I look you in the face when my lips were wrapped around your boyfriend’s cock?
Not once did you ever mention that night after that. Not once. Did you know that I went home afterwards and changed like ten fucking times trying to put on something you’d both think was hot? All because he’d invited me to go out with the two of you that evening. Do you know how it fucking felt to be walking up your street and see his car drive away with you in it? Again, hind sight 20-20, it felt familiar. That’s fucking what.
Can you say it yet? Or are you still in denial?
What about the second time? He had to have known something was up at that point. He didn’t even let me touch you that time. Didn’t it bother you? How could you press yourself up against him like that; kissing his lying fucking lips… looking deep into his eyes that betrayed just how orchestrated the entire fucking afternoon was… how could you just lay there and let him fuck me? Why didn’t you hate me for it? Why didn’t you stop it? You had to have known I was only doing it for you. You had to.
Getting back to the here and now… I’m honestly amazed that Christa can even sit across from you and her and not tear your head off. Every forgotten whisper you shared, she knows dude. Because I have kept nothing from her. Things I couldn’t even accept myself… I’ve come to terms with in her arms.
And everyone gets so piss scared when I hang out with James. Especially you. I don’t understand. He and I… we’ve never. We’ve never done the shit you and I have done. But, James? James would never pretend it never happened the morning after. Shit, no… he’d write a song about it and prance around on stage in women’s underwear. Just like you use to do…
And I’m sitting here smiling now despite what we both know I’m about to talk about. I miss you, Gerard. I know, I know… we’ve been on tour together for years now. But, you have to admit… neither of us are who we use to be. And no shit, that’s a good thing. But it doesn’t mean that I don’t look back and wish things had happened differently.
So, there you were in North Bergen and my bored ass down in Jersey City when who should drop by the neighborhood but Bert fucking McCracken. We’d never really talked outside of those two times. God, he must have thought I was such a naïve little slut. For a while, I know I thought I was. And yeah, it started out one way and ended another. He crossed the fucking line when he covered my mouth and told me to shut the fuck up. He crossed the line when he didn’t stop when tears were brimming in my fucking eyes. Why couldn’t you have been there that day? Why couldn’t you have seen the monster I’d always known lurked behind his cold and calculating lies. He was so fucking sure that my crush on you would keep my lips sealed. It didn’t. Even though I knew you weren’t going to be my friend after the phone conversation ended.
I was wrong. For what it’s worth, I was wrong. And maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised that you saw it for what it really was before I was willing to accept what had happened to me. I never did thank you. And I still don’t understand how you looked past that. Then and now. Was it because you were ashamed of letting the previous times happen? Did you feel a single iota for me that I did for you? I will never fucking know.
So there we have it. All I needed was a fucking apology; or maybe one single whispered confession. Sure, all I ever wanted was you… but there was just too high of a price to pay. I hope you’re happier now. I hope she doesn’t make you feel as down on yourself as he did. And I pray to all that is holy that she never once considers it okay to fuck with you and yours the way he did.
Are you sorry? Seriously, looking back and accepting that this shit happened… are you sorry you met me? Will you still look at me with those big, innocent-seeming eyes and bounce like a toddler on a double shot of expresso when I ask if you still want to be my best man? Will you be there when I recite my vows and finally say good-bye to what we never had… forever?