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Gerard huffs out a laugh. “You are such a weirdo, Iero.” “Sometimes,” Frank begins, like he’s telling a secret, “I imagine they can fly all across my skin while no one is looking. And then they have to sneak their way back to their spots.” He lets out a giggle over the ridiculousness. Gerard just stares, and Frank blushes, looks down and says, “I know. Weirdo.”










