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Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2025-05-16
Updated:
2025-12-29
Words:
112,517
Chapters:
48/?
Comments:
108
Kudos:
64
Bookmarks:
24
Hits:
3,165

Jersey Dirt

Summary:

Boy meets boy. Boy can't figure what he is. Nobody’s sure, and that’s half the fun—at least for Frank.

Girl meets boy—and bolts. Patrick thinks all she’s gotta do is try.
Everyone’s young.
Everyone’s lying.
Gerard’s got a band, a body that won’t behave, and a suspicion that whatever’s wrong with him isn’t gonna go away any time soon. Frank thinks he looks better on his back anyway.
Mikey thinks it’s a phase.
Nia doesn’t want what she’s supposed to want. That doesn’t stop people from deciding for her. She stays anyway. She always does.
There’s sex that doesn’t count and intimacy that does.
Hands that linger. Doors that don’t lock.
Showers that go on too long.
Nobody’s dating.
Nobody’s sober.
Everybody’s crossing lines and calling it friendship.
It’s Jersey.
It’s the late ’90s.
Everyone’s already in too deep.
"Friends don’t wash each other’s hair,"
“It was dye.”

Notes:

*Frerard heavy, increasing smut/sex level, homophobic language*

Used to be The Space Between, but I cleaned it up a bit and changed the title! Hopefully things feel a little more streamlined.

Still working on defining my voice as well as strengthening my writing, so feedback is always welcome!

Uploads every Sunday at the very least, but I'm aiming for ever Sunday and Wednesday :)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Gerard’s a mess—smeared eyeliner, paint stains, and whatever he had for lunch yesterday. But to her he was a voice.

Nia wants-well she moved to New York to figure that out. Well and to be with her best friend Mikey and her sister Sasha...didn't expect to like the shows so much.

Mikey keeps watch (unfortunately).

Frank can’t keep his hands to himself (that’s where Gerard gets it).

Kat just wants to see Paris—maybe end up in a song.

Nobody’s who they say they are.

A slow-burn of messy friendships, fangirl origins, grief, and the ugly, dirty ways people find themselves under our nails.

Featuring: bad decisions, emotionally complicated baths, all the grimy queer vibes the '90s had to offer, and enough baggage to fill the Twin Towers(for now).

It’s not a love story. It’s worse.

It’s Jersey Dirt.