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1. we only see each other in catholic funerals
frank hated church. he hated how the ceiling would always tremble because of the loud sound and the chandeliers swinged around as if they would fall on his head, hated to hear prayings in dead languages and hated the statues of saints who never even gave consent to their image being used this way, whose eyes follow you around. when his mother asked him (more like forced him) to come to his great-aunt's funeral, he wasn't happy.
— but mom, i have never even seen her alive, i'm sure i don't need to see her corpse.
this battle was lost from the start.
the priest wouldn't stop talking about ressurrection and how good of a devotee his great-aunt lilibeth was, how she devoted her whole life to jesus and the church, never getting married or sinning in the most carnal way. so fucking boring, frank concluded. his mind went into the most random places, like, did she die a virgin? how many well-lived lives has the church stolen over the years? when he noticed he'd zoned out, they were already blessing the communion wafer, or whatever it is called.
next to the father, something — someone, actually — caught iero's attention. it was an altar boy, but he was... different. his hair was dyed red, which frank thought was curious. his hands moved fast and easily, he didn't seem to be confused between the water and the wine, and his face... frank could've sworn he saw an angel. not like those with eight eyes, three mouths and twenty wings, a renaissance one. fully clothed, but you get the idea. he needed to know this boy, and maybe even corrupt him in the process. and the perfect person to inform him of anything is none other than ray toro.
his grandma was crying while they proceeded to take the coffin outside the chapel and frank seized the opportunity to get close to toro.
— nope, don't even start. i know this face. last time you did that to me, we almost got expelled of the zoo.
— it's not my fault they didn't appreciate our help with the baboon mating. — ray looked skeptic — but it's nothing like that. i just need some info.
— of course you do.
— the pretty one with the red hair. who's he? — frank couldn't decipher ray's face at the moment. it could be because they were laying down the casket, but who really knows.
— gerard? give up already, frankie. it's mikey's brother. the one who is one hundred percent married to jesus, or something like that.
— wait, how do you know his name?!
— unlike you, i actually pay attention when people are speaking to me. but really, don't bother.
they both knew it was already too late.
2. lying in the hands of god
— i can't believe i'm about to do that.
frank spent a entire week researching about how to break the ice with someone who goes to church, not like any of the tips from catholic sites was, at least, usable, but he didn't want to go to war empty-handed.
he was wearing his best clothes (the fray merch shirt and some black jeans that weren't ripped nor had holes made by cigarettes) and went to sunday mass. who would've thought he would ever step inside a church willingly. iero didn't pay attention to anything the priest said, that's exactly why headphones exist. his eyes were focused on the red-haired pretty boy with black attire.
the plan was to wait until mass ends and then ask to talk to the altar boy. ask him the most stupid question frank could think of and pray for him to engage so they could talk for more than five minutes.
it didn't take long for the announcements to stop and soon the church was almost empty. only frank and some altar boys remained, they were cleaning the altar because isn't this what altar boys do? have they ever tried to summon a demon there?
without thinking twice, he walked to the front row. his it-boy (or would it be inri-boy?) was right in front of him, and frank knew that if he didn't say anything now, he would never do it.
— uh, hi? i... have a question?
— sure! — gerard said, with a timid smile.
— if jesus was jew, why do we go to the catholic church? — yes, he spend too many nights researching something interesting for that. but gerard seemed surprised, so, this is a good sign. maybe.
— oh, well. jesus came as messiah to complement ancient jewish religion. after that, some of his followers broke that off and forged their own religion. i ask father hemmingway to explain this a little better if you like, but we'll have to wait, he's on the diocese with some other altar boys at the moment. — frank must be really bad at hiding his facial expressions, because gerard could clearly see his dumbfounded face. — oh. oh no. not like this, jesus.
— a little hard to believe without concrete proof, but thanks for answering anyway. — it took exactly five minutes and frank was ready to give up, until he saw a sketch book being held by gerard. — is this yours?
— yeah, i draw sometimes.
— can i see it? — now, he was surprised. but handed the notebook anyway. it's not like frank would find any nsfw biblical art. in this case, not safe for church.
he flipped through the pages until he found a drawing of a woman with many swords through her body, her tears were made of blood and her face seemed coldly comforting. he felt connected to this strange figure, as strange as it sounds.
— mater dolorosa — gerard say from behind his ears — our lady of sorrows.
— why is she... like that?
— i thought you want to church...? — frank smiled sheepish — well, the swords represent the seven big pains she went through in her mortal life, the main one being receiving jesus' body out of the cross. that's when she got named mother of all men.
frank would never admit it, but he looked so sexy while talking about a saint. shit, is it a sin to say that when the topic is like, the purest of all women to ever exist? if hell is real, he has both foot and his ass there. he didn't even notice gerard was right in front of him again.
— unfortunately, i gotta go. but anytime you wanna ask something about, you know, jesus and company, i'm always here.
— thank you...
— gerard. and you are?
— frank.
the pretty boy smiled.
— it was a pleasure meeting you, frank.
little does he know the pleasure was all frank's.
3. our lady of sorrows
tattoo studios have always been one of frank's favorite places. he loved the scent of nicotine, the feeling of the needle on skin and the unique conversations.
it had been three days since he and gerard had their first conversation, and he couldn't stop thinking about the damn mary. like, he stayed awake searching more about her. the only logical conclusion was to tattoo her. ok, maybe he didn't really think this through, but it will look nice.
— hey margo! got time for me today?
— for you? always, frankie. — he trusted margot with his eyes shut. it didn't take long for them to develop a sick piece of art.
soon enough, he was ready to stay still for hours on end.
— i never though you would get anything religious on your body. — she said, drawing a line.
— i decided only ten minutes before coming here. now i see what god saw on her.
— i think that's a sin. lust for someone else's woman.
frank couldn't help but laugh. it wasn't mary who he lusted. it was a devotee boy with obnoxiously red hair.
six hours later, he left the studio with less money on his pockets and a lollipop on his mouth. night has come, and he still needed to buy vaseline. it was cold and he couldn't move his arm because of the plastic.
since he already was at the nearby cvs, he might as well make his monthly buyings. frank got a pack of condoms and two tubes of vaseline, since you can never be too careful. he was distracted looking at those stuff bodybuilders drink until accidentally bumping into someone, and, because of that, everything fell off his hands. if the situation wasn't bad enough, that someone was gerard. he looked like a lost puppy. it would've been cute, if frank wasn't dying of embarassment.
— i never thought you're one of those guys who use suplements. — he said.
— as you can see by my physique, i am not. — gerard laughed and helped frank to get up. he wanted to hide his face on the floor so bad and like, never look at gerard again. — new tattoo?
— yeah, our conversation... inspired me.
— it looks nice. — he leaned over frank to see it better. — well, i gotta go. nice to see you. maybe when it fully heals you can come to church and show me.
that night, frank got almost zero sleep.
4. i constantly thank god for you
after the drugstore incident, frank and gerard became close very quickly. he went to church almost every day to see gerard, after mass, to mess up the altar while the boys tried to clean it up. they even had their own inside jokes! of course, it was all too recent, but it was enough to show ray who rules. frank was more surrended than ever.
he loved watching gerard. doesn't matter what he was doing, frank was there, making eyes at him. he had already memorized every one of his habits. the way he holds the pencil to draw, or how he bites his lips when concentrating on something. he even knew how gerard fixes his hair with his hands. way was incredibly gorgeous, it was a sin not to look.
— you know, gee... i'd be on my knees for you, if you were a priest. — frank said, without thinking. not that it was a lie though, but crap, they were inside a church. and gerard was as red as his hair.
he was in dangerous territories, but gee didn't seem to go against it. and frank wanted this for so long, maybe he wasn't thinking straight. they were leaning onto each other, foreheads touching. there was no oposition.
— frankie...
— shh.
nothing matters besides that moment. frank leaned forward and kissed gerard, and god, he felt like explosions were happening inside his body. the kiss got stronger, and every touch, every bump, made he want more. frank was thirsty for gerard. he was touch starved. and it felt so, so good. gerard way was the closest to heaven that frank iero had ever been.
suddenly, gerard stopped the kiss. he was trembling and seemed astounded.
— frank, i can't. this is wrong, i can't-
— gee, hey, listen to me. you told me yourself god has nothing against boys who wanna kiss other boys, remember?
— it's not it. you won't get it. i devoted my whole life to this institution, i just can't throw it all away for something i don't even know where it's going.
saying it hurts to listen to something like that is an understatement.
— you should have thought about your catholic guilt before kissing me back. — frank said, making no excuses to show how hurt he was.
— i'm really sorry, frankie.
— no, you're not.
gerard left, and for the first time in forever, frank felt so alone that it ached.
5. undisclosed desires
it took frank two weeks to go near the church again and he wishes he hadn't.
— excuse me, ma'am. — he said to a nice lady arranging the flowers. — can you tell me where the altar boy with red hair is? i need to speak to him.
— oh, gerard? gerard way? — he nodded yes — i'm afraid you won't find him here, as he went to the seminary earlier. his last mass was just last sunday. he's answering his calling, you know?
frank's heart broke in a million pieces.
if he had shown up sooner, he could at least apologize. he wasn't really sorry, but gerard would hate him less. shit, iero. you always have to blown everything up, don't you? and now you have this stupid saint on your skin forever, as if you need any more reminders of the sucker you are.
the truth is, no one can selfsabotage like frank iero.
he wasn't sober for days. ray was about to lose his mind, but he couldn't care less. he felt so dumb, he really just wished to wake up with amnesia or something like that. was this his first great pain to make him a holy mother devotee?
— what did you expect? that he would trade his life work to kiss your dirty mouth? you used to be more clever, frank.
— i don't know, alright? is that what you wanna hear? congrats, ray. you were right, i shouldn't have bothered. happy now?
— not really, no. you know i don't like seeing you this way. — he said, opening the window. — go take a shower, you stinky. we're gonna mend your broken hert.
the day ended with frank crying rivers and ray telling him everything would be ok. he'd rather hurt than heal, but every effort counts.
6. take me to church
who would've thought ray was right? he really needs to trust his friends more.
frank met jamia when they both went to the same college. they had almost an instant connection. she knew how to take care of him and he tries his best to be better for her.
a surprise for no one, after a few years, they got engaged. both families having religious backgrounds, they decided to do a catholic ceremony. it's not their profile, but they really didn't want to stress because of that. jamia promised to find a younger, less ignorant, priest, and frank had no doubts, this woman is a go-getter.
— are you sure that's how you're going to meet the priest for the first time? — jamia said, smooching him.
— what's wrong with my crucified clown shirt? i think it's dope. — she was too clever to know when to give up, so she just rolled her eyes and told him to wait outside. he loved her just like that.
the congregation was fairly new and well taken care of. he hasn't been in a church for years. jamia went ahead, to meet the priest, while he got lost trying to make something from the crucifixion timeline.
— babe, have you heard anything i just told you? — no, he hadn't, and he was genuinely confused. — come here.
frank couldn't believe his own eyes. the young and not-completely-boring priest was the same altar boy who broke his heart. his once red hair was now brown-ish, but he was still the same. the tension was palpable.
and so, frank laughed.
— is this some kind of joke? very funny, god, but you can quit it.
both jamia and gerard were confused, and he was a little bit guilty too.
frank couldn't help but notice how pretty he looked in his priest attire.
but he had his mind set, those feelings are all in the past.
his resemblance with mater dolorosa would not go any further.
7. i never told you what i did for a living
— care to explain?
everything went down well. jamia negociated with gerard and now they only need to send him the last details. it will be great.
— what?
— your temper tantrum. what was that all about?
what was he supposed to do, lie? he never thought about having to tell jamia about this dark time when he had a crush on an altar boy but he also never thought gerard would be the one marrying them so everything was a bit strange right now.
— you have to promise you won't laugh about it. — frank said, sticking his pinky out.
— pinky promise.
he told her everything. from the very first time he ever saw gerard and how he couldn't take his eyes off him. he spoke about his tattoo and the late night chats at the church, and he also briefly explained why it never went far. jamia didn't laugh.
— you got a tattoo to impress him. you're such a simp.
— i thought you knew that already.
jamia kissed him on the lips and held his face with both her hands.
— it's ok, frankie. we can find another priest if it makes you too uncomfortable.
— don't worry, babe. he's a great guy. it's gonna be just fine.
they went home that evening and frank felt renovated. jamia, on the other hand, will never let the tattoo story die.
8. my mistakes were made for you
the day has finally come. frank was so nervous he felt like throwing up.
waiting in front of everyone wasn't really the best place for him to be, but when his eyes met jamia's, he just couldn't stop crying.
she was... stunning. oh my god, frank loved her so much. jamia was the most beautiful bride.
the ceremony went down without any problems. they both agreed not to say their vows out loud, but frank wanted to do something special for her. jamia deserves the world.
— i know our agreement was not to say anything out loud, but i can't help myself. you're the most beautiful person i have ever laid my eyes on. not only on the outside, but inside too. you're fu- freaking amazing. i don't know if i could be where i am today without your support. honestly, i'm sure of it. you always know how to cheer me up, to calm me down. you understand me. you are always there for me when i need the most and i can't thank you enough. i know i'm full of mistakes, but i'm sure they were made for you. jamia nestor, i love you. i love you more than anything in the world. you showed me how to live again. you are my everything.
he was crying as much as jamia. she muffled an "i love you" and frank smiled.
— and now... you can kiss the bride!
the rest of the night happened in the blink of an eye. everyone left for the reception, but the newlyweds stayed to invite father way formally.
— thank you for everything, father. we can't tell you enough how much we appreciate what you did for us today.
gerard was flustered. man, he was a really great priest.
— it was my pleasure. and there's no need to call me father.
— oh, so you want us to call you daddy?
gerard was as red as his hair once were, but laughed it off.
this is a great new beginning.