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Purgatorio by tuesdaysgone (NC-17)
Fandom: BANDOM
Pairing: Frank/Gerard, Mikey/Alicia, past Mikey/Pete
Length: 27,110 words
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tuesdaysgone
Author Website: Fic Links & on AO3
Why this must be read:
A series of brutal murders calls Detective Frank Iero back to active duty and he must find the killer while confronting people from his past and dealing with his attraction to Gerard, older brother of his estranged friend Mikey.
This is another fabulous story from last year's Big Bang. It's gritty and intense and all the characterisations are spot-on - like this was how these guys would've turned out if they'd lived in this universe. And I loved how both the murder case and Frank & Gerard's emotional drama were equally important to the story.
Excerpt from the story:
Gerard's shoulders had visibly tensed; he relaxed when he heard his brother was all right, but still eyed Frank nervously. Pulling a gun on someone tended to have that effect; but, shit, that was the protocol in that kind of situation. And nervous-innocent looked a hell of a lot like nervous-guilty, anyway; Frank had learned that the hard way. He was frowning, scratching at his forearm. Twitchy. Frank didn't like twitchy. "Mr. Way's my dad, Detective Iero."
"That's cute, Gerard," Frank drawled, rolling the second 'r' a little. "I've got a homicide victim over in your foundry's scrap yard, though, so I'm not really in the mood for cute. You wanna tell me the last time you've been over there?"
"Shit," Gerard breathed, eyes snapping up to meet Frank's, but skittering quickly away. "I...a few days ago, I think?"
Frank stepped closer. "You think you could narrow that down for me?"
Up close, Gerard's face was dotted with flecks of grime. He obviously hadn't seen the inside of a shower for several days. His black sweatshirt was dotted with tiny scorched holes, and his pale, surprisingly graceful fingers were criss-crossed with half-healed scrapes and cuts. He saw Frank looking. "Lots of sharp edges in a metal sculpture. Sometimes I forget myself." His eyes were intensely golden-green, somehow mesmerizing. Frank could barely look away.
He coughed, turning and jerking his eyes to the wall behind them. There was a stack of large paintings leaning against it. Grotesque figures twisted across the topmost canvas, trailing red flames. "Interesting work," he said noncommittally.
"Inspired by Dante," Gerard said, his voice coming from far too close for Frank's liking. "It's a series." Frank eased himself surreptitiously into a better defensive posture; he wasn't sure how he'd let Gerard get so close. Distraction was a death sentence in his line of work. Fuck. Frank was so not ready for this.
"The scrap yard, Gerard," Frank repeated his earlier question, voice rough. "When were you there last?"
"I don't know," Gerard mused. "What's today?" His voice was suddenly farther away again. He was wandering, poking idly at piles of odds and ends, fingers tapping a silent rhythm on his thigh.
"Saturday," Frank told him slowly. Seriously? Twitchy didn't even begin to cover it.
Purgatorio (or here)
(Don't miss the scorchingly hot PWP sequel, Count Me In and Turn Me Loose - or here.)
Pairing: Frank/Gerard, Mikey/Alicia, past Mikey/Pete
Length: 27,110 words
Author on LJ:
tuesdaysgoneAuthor Website: Fic Links & on AO3
Why this must be read:
A series of brutal murders calls Detective Frank Iero back to active duty and he must find the killer while confronting people from his past and dealing with his attraction to Gerard, older brother of his estranged friend Mikey.
This is another fabulous story from last year's Big Bang. It's gritty and intense and all the characterisations are spot-on - like this was how these guys would've turned out if they'd lived in this universe. And I loved how both the murder case and Frank & Gerard's emotional drama were equally important to the story.
Excerpt from the story:
Gerard's shoulders had visibly tensed; he relaxed when he heard his brother was all right, but still eyed Frank nervously. Pulling a gun on someone tended to have that effect; but, shit, that was the protocol in that kind of situation. And nervous-innocent looked a hell of a lot like nervous-guilty, anyway; Frank had learned that the hard way. He was frowning, scratching at his forearm. Twitchy. Frank didn't like twitchy. "Mr. Way's my dad, Detective Iero."
"That's cute, Gerard," Frank drawled, rolling the second 'r' a little. "I've got a homicide victim over in your foundry's scrap yard, though, so I'm not really in the mood for cute. You wanna tell me the last time you've been over there?"
"Shit," Gerard breathed, eyes snapping up to meet Frank's, but skittering quickly away. "I...a few days ago, I think?"
Frank stepped closer. "You think you could narrow that down for me?"
Up close, Gerard's face was dotted with flecks of grime. He obviously hadn't seen the inside of a shower for several days. His black sweatshirt was dotted with tiny scorched holes, and his pale, surprisingly graceful fingers were criss-crossed with half-healed scrapes and cuts. He saw Frank looking. "Lots of sharp edges in a metal sculpture. Sometimes I forget myself." His eyes were intensely golden-green, somehow mesmerizing. Frank could barely look away.
He coughed, turning and jerking his eyes to the wall behind them. There was a stack of large paintings leaning against it. Grotesque figures twisted across the topmost canvas, trailing red flames. "Interesting work," he said noncommittally.
"Inspired by Dante," Gerard said, his voice coming from far too close for Frank's liking. "It's a series." Frank eased himself surreptitiously into a better defensive posture; he wasn't sure how he'd let Gerard get so close. Distraction was a death sentence in his line of work. Fuck. Frank was so not ready for this.
"The scrap yard, Gerard," Frank repeated his earlier question, voice rough. "When were you there last?"
"I don't know," Gerard mused. "What's today?" His voice was suddenly farther away again. He was wandering, poking idly at piles of odds and ends, fingers tapping a silent rhythm on his thigh.
"Saturday," Frank told him slowly. Seriously? Twitchy didn't even begin to cover it.
Purgatorio (or here)
(Don't miss the scorchingly hot PWP sequel, Count Me In and Turn Me Loose - or here.)
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