---Patrick---

Night is over when Brendon's voice rings through the house.

"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" He calls, "It's Christmas! It's Christmas!"

Gerard hugs me tighter, groaning into my neck, "It's too early."

I only have a smile on my face as I turn and kiss him eagerly, grasping his face and pulling him close in an attempt to wake him up, "It's Christmas, though!"

He throws his pillow at me, his eyebrows in a deep frown, "Go the fuck back to sleep..."

I only huff, a glare on my own face in frustration. When he doesn't attempt to get up, I straddle him, pinning his hands above his head and watching his eyes open immediately, his pupils beginning to blow at the position.

"Patrick?" He whispers, blushing slightly. I only give him a devious smirk, gather up some saliva, and attempt to spit in his mouth.

He gives me a look of pure horror and struggles against my hands, yelling at me to stop, and please have mercy. But I don't. I only watch as the ball of spit lands on his cheek and quickly take the opportunity to roll off of the bed and sprint to the door.

"Come downstairs for Christmas, and you might be able to pay me back for that," I smirk. He only glares at me and rolls out of bed himself, rubbing off the saliva on his cheek with the bedsheets. I wink deviously, then make my way downstairs before he can get me and pay me back early.

I can hear someone screaming, "IT'S CHRISTMAS! IT'S CHRISTMAS!" At the top of their lungs. Gerard is barely trailing behind me as he follows me downstairs to the tree but he tolerates it, eager to get it over with. Brendon, Ryan, and Frank are already at the tree, Joe and Andy coming upstairs and Mikey and Pete, Mikey leaning sleepily into Pete's shoulder, following soon after.

Call me childish, but I've always loved Christmas it's my favorite holiday besides the Fourth of July and Halloween and September 23rd and my birthday and Thanksgiving and...

I like all the holidays.

Gerard is laughing slightly as I look through the giant pile of gifts, half of them labeled, 'From Santa' but I know it's Brendon because it's his handwriting and he always overdoes Christmas.

I fucking love it.

Brendon throws me a present wrapped in black and white with a gold ribbon on top, "Open up. There are plenty."

Before I know it, the room is a mess of scrapped gold and black and blue and white and mega gay wrapping paper and cheesy nametags and gifts. Some of the biggest presents included but were not limited to: a new bass for Mikey and Pete to share (It was adorable because it had an M + P on the front. Brendon secretly told me he could easily get a refund for it and I laughed even though it was a horrible joke), a bottle of hairspray for Joe, a pair of drumsticks (I found out Andy plays drums, and we immediately started talking more) for Andy, a pair of fingerless gloves with a bone design on the back for Frank who sat shyly in the corner, a new sketchpad for Gerard, a pink boa for Gerard, a new pair of earbuds for Dallon, another bottle of hairspray for Ray, a vibrator, a dildo, a pair of handcuffs, a blindfold, and a bottle of milk (Ryan was extremely embarrassed all through Christmas).

Of course, that was all from Brendon.

Gerard got me a few things which I loved, and I told him I might let him do more than just spit on my face later. They included: The 21st Century Breakdown CD by Green Day (I nearly cried), a fuckton of fedoras, a notebook, and a couple of Green Day jackets. I love him, dammit.

Pete got me a notebook with the words, "I had Mikey pick it up at last minute. It's for your lyrics."

I got a few things from money Donna had given me before she'd left. I bought Gerard a beanie (it was gray, and he looks adorable in it) and a pair of gloves because I noticed he didn't have any, and I got Pete a Metallica CD, he nearly choked me with how much he was squeezing in the hug that followed. It was a small few gifts since I didn't have that much but they said it was alright, they loved them and then Gerard even pulled me onto his lap and held me against him despite the chorus of "aww's" that came from everyone else.

After a while of sitting and watch the other open presents, I could tell he was beginning to get bored. Especially when he began whispering dirty, dirty things into my ear (because he did that. Have I mentioned he's a very sexual person?) slipping a "Gonna fuck you so hard tonight," or a, "I wonder what it would look if you had that pretty little mouth wrapped around my cock."

I told him to fuck off and that he was starting to sound like Kevin because he was, it was seriously making me uncomfortable. The difference is he immediately stopped. In all reality, though, I was achingly hard by the time we had the wrapping paper cleaned up. Gerard kept teasing, a little less dirty but he'd still, "accidentally," brush my crotch or, "accidentally," slip his hand in the waistband of my pants.

Finally, as everyone begins to leave, I take Gerard up to the room and start yanking down his pants and palming him. He stops me, though, with a short laugh as he holds my hands in place, "No, you said tonight. So I'm gonna make you wait til tonight," He says with a playful smirk.

I groan in frustration, "Please?"

He shakes his head, trailing his fingers down my chest, "No. But I'll make you happy tonight. Promise. How about we go to the bridge or the mausoleum or something? Just you and me for Christmas Day. Cuddle up with some coffee-" I give him a stubborn glare and he quickly adds on a, "and tea."

I cuddle into his chest, nodding softly in agreement, "Okay, I'd like that..." I see him smile out of the corner of my eyes, a wide, toothy grin.

Gerard grabs my Green Day hoodie that he gave me, pulling it on me through the right arm first, then the left, and finally zipping it up and adjusting it on my shoulders. It has the grenade heart imprinted on the front with the white hand gripping it, and the words: American Idiot stamped beside it in red. Ruby-blood red with a pleasant tone. I love it. The other hoodie is being thrown in the backpack we brought to stay the night. Inside is Gerard's pink boa, Gerard's new sketchbook, my two notebooks, a pair of drumsticks that Brendon gave me, a condom and bottle of lube (Just in case), the Green Day CD Gerard gave me, and a few fedoras.

Gerard throws it on his back, making a shuffling sound that does not sound right. I don't do anything about it, though. Too lazy to.

I grab his beanie and slide it on his head, covering his short black hair and making him look about ten times more emo than he did. I giggle at that and say, "You look so fucking emo, like... Pete before The Incident. You should ask him for his old eyeliner."

"Shut up," He replies, rolling his eyes and slipping on his black gloves.

He leads me out of the room, each step is fast and excited, with soft laughs of excitement. Gerard has the biggest grin on his face as we yell goodbye to Brendon and leave, shutting the door, "Wanna go back to the bridge?"

I nod, "Sounds good."

***

There's more snow outside, the weather coating the land in even more snow than we left it in the night before when we arrived at Brendon's for the Christmas party. It's cold out still, and I'm shivering just slightly, but Gerard deems it enough to give me his jacket. I protest, but he only shakes his head, laughing, "It's fine, 'Trick. You need it more than I do."

"Gerard Arthur Way, I swear to god you're going to freeze your ass off soon, and it won't be my fault. You need to find something to keep you warm because you can't just keep giving me your jackets and expect me to be okay with it." I growl. He pulls me onto his lap, holding his hand right over my crotch and making me swallow. It may not have been a while since the last time we had sexual activity, but that was just a blowjob. It's been at least three weeks since we last had actual sex. I want it and the fact that he told me he's going to tease me for the rest of the day isn't helping at all.

Eventually, my mind travels off and I'm left listening around to my surroundings. There's silence. Nobody is here, and there are no sounds besides the rushing under the wood bridge. There are no sounds besides the soft sound of the wind and the cars in the distance. The noise of a pair of boots on snow, the crunching but I doubt they're near us. They're just passing by. It's nothing.

Gerard's eyes are shut with snowflakes lining his eyelashes. It's adorable. He's so sweet. I love the way he's so calm and the way he's just okay with whatever I want to do. I love him. I hope I stay with him forever...

Maybe longer.

"Gerard?" I whisper.

"Hmm?" He asks.

I smile into his chest, "Can you promise me something?"

He pulls me closer, "Of course." His breaths warm my cold cheeks, his eyes shut gently.

"I know you promised it before but... promise we'll be together forever? If not lovers, then friends? You'll always be by my side? I don't want to lose you. Sometimes I get scared I'll lose you and... I don't want that to happen again... I love you so much..."

This is getting cheesy, but he doesn't seem to mind. I think he secretly likes it. It doesn't look as cheesy when it's happening to me versus when I see Pete and Mikey doing it. Gerard only nods and replies, "Of course, Baby. I'll always be here. You know that. I promise."

"How strong are your promises?" I ask. The boots are getting closer. Just passerby's.

"I've only broken one," He whispers.

I give him a confused look, but I can't ask him because the boots have stopped in front of us. My eyes dart up to meet theirs, and I see four of them, standing tall and dark: there's a girl with black hair and a beanie wearing a pair of loose jeans and a baggy gray hoodie. Her dark eyes meet mine, and a disgusting smirk crosses her lips. There's a boy with a pair of light brown eyes and a bored expression, he looks like he doesn't want to be here but not out of guilt, out of boredom. Another boy has a cap on backward, hiding his dark hair and I can see a knife in his hand. A knife.

My heart drops, Gerard grips me closer.

The last boy has orange-red hair: greasy and it looks like fire in the dim sunlight. His green eyes are dark, and I know his intentions aren't good. Have his intentions ever been good? He has a lip piercing glistening silver in the dark light, and he's wearing a leather jacket, unzipped and showing a black shirt while his ripped jeans cover his legs.

"Looks like we've got a couple of faggots, eh?" The girl says, chewing a piece of gum.

"They're the ones," Bob says, "Grab 'em. Let's get outta here."

My stomach drops at that, fear engulfing me. Gerard immediately stands up, his eyebrows furrowed, "Get out of here. Never talk to us again, you've done enough harm to him."

I'm thrown out of his lap, but I'm not worried about that. I'm concerned about the gang that's threatening us right now.

The boy with the knife holds it to Gerard's neck making me grip the railing impossibly tighter with the silver digging into the pale skin.

"Say one more thing out of that pretty mouth of yours, and I'll kill your little boyfriend," He gestures to me with the last words, "Let's go."

They grab Gerard and me and we're taken away.