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Smoke from Another Fire by romanticalgirl (NC-17)
Fandom: BANDOM
Pairing: Gerard/Gabe
Length: 2,050 words
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
romanticalgirl
Author Website: Fiction A to Z
Why this must be read:
Gerard and Gabe in the beginning back in Jersey.
This is one of those pairings that seems so strange at first but the more you think of it the more right it feels. This is a gorgeous story with beautiful writing, and the atmosphere and mood is stark and raw and intense.
Excerpt from the story:
The bricks hum with the residual heat of the day, with the crashing throb of music inside. The joint burns hot and harsh between his fingers, raspy in his lungs until they open and stretch, expanding out of his chest. It tastes like sucking Jersey straight into his lungs, burning like fuck, cauterizing the fresh wounds with sludge.
He opens his eyes and opens his mouth, but it takes a moment before he exhales, his smoke tangling with the drift up from Rob's cigarette. Gabe takes the joint from Gerard and sucks down his own hit, cheekbones sharpening on his inhale and cutting the air around him. Gerard wants to reach out and slit his wrists on them. "Good shit," he croaks out.
Gabe swallows air, pulling the smoke deeper into his lungs, nodding all the while. "Fucking Mikey, man."
It's long since ceased bothering Gerard that Mikey is the go-to guy, the one who knows shit - who has what, when and where - and he just revels in the association. "No shit."
Rob kills his cigarette under his heel. "Party at Paul's tonight."
"I fucking hate Paul," Gabe reminds him.
"But you fucking love parties." Rob pockets his lighter and drains his beer, shattering the bottle when he throws it in the dumpster. "Later."
Gabe waves halfheartedly and takes another hit. "Fucking Paul. Fucking party. Fuck that shit."
Gerard steals the joint back to kill the last of it. His throat is raw from screaming, which makes him want to do it more. "Who's Paul?"
Gabe laughs once. "No fucking clue." He picks a beer bottle up off the ground and throws it, watching the brown glass rain down. "Let's go."
He doesn't bother to ask where. "Okay."
Smoke from Another Fire
Pairing: Gerard/Gabe
Length: 2,050 words
Author on LJ:
romanticalgirlAuthor Website: Fiction A to Z
Why this must be read:
Gerard and Gabe in the beginning back in Jersey.
This is one of those pairings that seems so strange at first but the more you think of it the more right it feels. This is a gorgeous story with beautiful writing, and the atmosphere and mood is stark and raw and intense.
Excerpt from the story:
The bricks hum with the residual heat of the day, with the crashing throb of music inside. The joint burns hot and harsh between his fingers, raspy in his lungs until they open and stretch, expanding out of his chest. It tastes like sucking Jersey straight into his lungs, burning like fuck, cauterizing the fresh wounds with sludge.
He opens his eyes and opens his mouth, but it takes a moment before he exhales, his smoke tangling with the drift up from Rob's cigarette. Gabe takes the joint from Gerard and sucks down his own hit, cheekbones sharpening on his inhale and cutting the air around him. Gerard wants to reach out and slit his wrists on them. "Good shit," he croaks out.
Gabe swallows air, pulling the smoke deeper into his lungs, nodding all the while. "Fucking Mikey, man."
It's long since ceased bothering Gerard that Mikey is the go-to guy, the one who knows shit - who has what, when and where - and he just revels in the association. "No shit."
Rob kills his cigarette under his heel. "Party at Paul's tonight."
"I fucking hate Paul," Gabe reminds him.
"But you fucking love parties." Rob pockets his lighter and drains his beer, shattering the bottle when he throws it in the dumpster. "Later."
Gabe waves halfheartedly and takes another hit. "Fucking Paul. Fucking party. Fuck that shit."
Gerard steals the joint back to kill the last of it. His throat is raw from screaming, which makes him want to do it more. "Who's Paul?"
Gabe laughs once. "No fucking clue." He picks a beer bottle up off the ground and throws it, watching the brown glass rain down. "Let's go."
He doesn't bother to ask where. "Okay."
Smoke from Another Fire
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