Frankie goes to Gerard's house. And Mikey almost loses his Ghostbuster camp priveledges. hahah.... :]
I breathed deeply. “ I know. I’ve been trying to.”
Gramma Helena frowned gently. “Getting drunk and ditching school helps him how?”
I felt myself blushing deeply. She was right of course. My attempt at helping him was embarrassing. But then again, I’d more been trying to help myself. But I did want to help him. That was the point to start with.
“It doesn’t,” I muttered, angry at myself.
Gramma Helena reached across the table and cupped my face in her hand. “Gerard, the best way that you can help him is to be there for him. He needs it. He’s never had anyone except his sister, and he told you how he lost her.” She shook her head sadly. “ He needs a friend Gerard. A real friend. You can give him that.”
Friend. There was that word. The step, the one before the part that I would die to get to. The part I would never get to. Because anything beyond friendship was an impossibility.
“I’m trying to be his friend.” I said. “But that’s not enough.” I added the last part only in my mind. It seemed though, that Gramma Helena could hear my thoughts. Or at least some of them.
She sat back, crossing her arms as she gazed at me thought fully. She took a soft breath and stared at me with eyes that seemed to see everything. And after she spoke, I knew she was seeing much more than I’d ever intended her to.
“Gerard,” she paused, giving me a moment to imagine what would follow. “Maybe I’m just letting my instincts get the best of me, or maybe I’m being too imaginative, but are you interested in Frank as more than a friend?” She didn’t change her expression, just waited calmly for my answer, which was, of course, automatic.
“No.” I scoffed. “No, no Grandma! I’m not gay!” I wanted to cringe at how my voice sounded, because it was a dead giveaway. The overly defensive tone was something no one could ignore.
Gramma Helena smiled, and spoke calmly. “I wasn’t saying you were gay Gerard, I was just wondering. “ She sighed softly, “I suppose I’m just over-reacting.”
She has a way like that, pushing things back, and deescalating tense situations. She calms things down.
“So, obviously it’s not a good idea for Frankie to go back home.” Gramma Helena says as she pushes her chair back and stands. She doesn’t look at me while she speaks, and I know it’s because she’s trying to hide the spark in her eyes. “I think that you should take him back to your house and have him stay there. Your mother won’t mind.” Code for, “I’ll convince her to let you have him stay on a school night.”
She left the room, leaving me sitting there to let the fact that Frank would be staying at my house through the night to sink in. Frank. In. My. Room. Frank. In. My. Bed. Or at least on it.
The thought sent me reeling, to the point that I didn’t even notice the way my pants had suddenly tightened dramatically. Ow. They were decently tight to begin with and now…circulation was beginning to decrease.
There was a soft moan from the living room, and I heard rustling on the couch. A soft cough from Frank, and then a deep breath. He was waking up. Oh god, and he had no idea what he was doing to me.
My pants were beyond painful now, as I heard gentle footsteps coming towards me. I shut my eyes and prayed that he would stay asleep, that he wouldn’t see me this way. Of course it didn’t work. God does not love me. Boo hoo.
“Gerard,” Frank said quietly, sounding slightly confused and concerned. “Is everything ok?”
“Yeah,” I said, but my voice cracked. I realized how I looked, right now, hunched over and tense. I tried to straighten up, but I left my hands in my lap, applying a tiny bit of pressure to deal with my…problem. It didn’t work.
I cleared my throat, before looking up at Frank to answer him again. “Yeah, I’m fine.” But as soon as I looked at him, I knew I was only going to get worse, because he looked so damn beautiful. His eyes were soft, narrowed slightly from adjusting after sleep. His dark hair was mussed, sticking up in random places, and cutting across his face to emphasize his eyes and the shape of his face. His cheeks were reddened slightly, I noticed as I felt my problem swell. I shut my eyes, and tried to think of nasty, gross things to turn me off. I was attempting to concentrate on needles and spikes, trying to scare myself when Frank spoke again, ruining any chance I might have had.
“Are you sure? You look…” His amber eyes searched me, as he attempted to find an accurate word to describe me. “Bad.” He finally came up with.
I thought wildly, and realized I had only one option now. I stood awkwardly, trying to hide the bulge in my pants. “I just have to pee really bad.” I felt my cheeks burning as I rushed to the bathroom, slamming the door behind myself quickly. I leaned against the wall, unzipping my pants and thrusting my hand down. I clenched my jaw so tight I thought my teeth were going to shatter as I held back my moans.
Through the vent, I could hear Gramma talking on the phone to my mother, and it brought back thoughts of having Frank in my bedroom. I gulped and stared at the
Ceiling, retreating back to the thoughts of needles. This time, undisturbed, I felt my pants slowly loosen, with the help of my hands. I thought of gruesome deaths, like being crushed by a two ton weight, or being devoured by a zombie version of my brother. Thankful for my imagination, I took a deep breath, zipped my pants and opened the door. Frank stared at me warily.
“Are you ok?” He asked me, raising a perfect eyebrow.
I tried to be calm and act like he hadn’t just given me a huge boner. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
Frank opened his mouth to say more, but thankfully, my grandmother came back, saving me from having to try and cover my ass with my bad lies. Normally, I was a good liar. Frank was the exception. I just couldn’t lie to him.
“So,” she said with a smile as she pulled her hair back and redid her bun. “Frank, you’re going to be staying at Gerard’s house tonight. Is that alright with you?”
Frank entire face paled, and I feet my heart drop into my feet. He didn’t want to. He didn’t like me. He hated me, he hated me. He should, after everything that had happened today.
But suddenly, Frank’s color completely dove-tailed, and his cheeks were a violent shade of red by the time he finally answered. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine.” He coughed slightly, uncomfortable. “Thank you, Helena. For everything.”
Gramma smiled softly at him, cupping his gorgeous face in her wrinkled hand.
“You don’t have anything to thank me for. All I did is what any good person should do.” She patted him softly on the cheek and sighed, turning to me.
“Come on boys, Donna has dinner waiting.”
The ride from Gramma’s was only about ten minutes. But you have no idea how many terrible things I managed to imagine my family doing in that short period. By the time we got to my house, I’d completely convinced myself that Frank would run away screaming because my family was so awful.
I ran my hand anxiously through my hair, breathing deeply as I walked up to my house, with Frank trailing warily behind me. He seemed to be almost as nervous as me. Almost. But not quite.
Gramma had somewhere to go, so she couldn’t come inside with us, but she gave me a nod and wink before pulling out the of the driveway, leaving Frank and I to the mercy, or lack thereof, of my brother and my parents.
The door creaked loudly when I opened it, an accidental announcement of our arrival.
Immediately, my mother came out of the kitchen, wide eyed as she took in Frank. She blinked and attempted to control the urge to ogle before she spoke. She didn’t do the best job.
“Hello, you must be Frank. I’m Donna, Gerard’s mother.” She winked at me and I swear I wanted to melt and become a floorboard more than anything else in the whole world.
Frank suddenly rose to the occasion, giving my mother a charming smile and saying, “It’s great to meet you Donna. Thank you for having me. Your house is very nice.”
My mother seemed stunned by his good manners, and her face became flushed. “Thank you Frank. Thank you very much.”
“You’re welcome.” He grinned again, and my mother smiled awkwardly back. I could tell she felt bad about judging him before.
“Dinner is ready,” my mother said, leading us into the kitchen to sit at the table. Frank sat next to me, brushing his hair out of his eyes politely.
I was astounded by the change in Frank’s attitude before I realized that before this week, I’d never seen him absent of the confidence he was showing now. I’d just become accustomed to the more timid and dark side of him after today and the previous day.
“Donald, Michael,” my mother called as she moved a pot to the table with her bare hands, even though it was still steaming. Then the footsteps came ; the gentle padded ones of my father, and the fast uneven ones as Mikey descended the stairs. My father had just sat down when there was a bump and a thud, and we all listened as Mikey tumbled down the steps.
“Ow…” he moaned softly. I could picture him at the base of the stairs, cradling his head in his hands. Why? He fell down all the time. His legs were too long for him to control.
“Michael?” My mother called, concerned. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” he groaned. There were more footsteps as he entered the kitchen, adjusting his glasses as always and preparing to sit down. The only reason he noticed Frank at all was because Frank had unknowingly sat in his seat.
“Michael?” My mother said after a moment of letting Mikey stare at Frank. “Over here.” She pulled out a chair next to her, which he sat down in.
“How come Gerard gets to have friends over on a school night?” Mikey said grumpily, crossing his skinny arm over his chest.
“Because.” My mother answered simply, turning her attention to Frank. “Frank, I made pasta. Is that alright with you?”
“Yeah. Definitely. Pasta's great.” Frank said, just as she put a heaping pile on his plate.
Mikey wasn’t done yet.
“Mom, “he groaned. “Because isn’t an answer. It’s a word.” He glared at her over the top of his glasses.
She sighed. “It’s an answer when I say it is Michael. Now hush and eat.”
Mikey muttered something under his breath, which only my mother could hear, but I’m going to guess it wasn’t anything pleasant.
“That’s it Michael, not one more word! I mean it! If you say anything else, you aren’t going to the Ghostbuster camp this summer.”
Mikey’s face turned fire engine red, and I had to clench my teeth to keep from laughing.
The rest of dinner, luckily was uneventful, thanks to Mikey not being allowed to talk and my father having what was, in his mind, an interesting day at work. After a half an hour, Frank and I escaped, without either of us having been scarred for life.
I was suddenly embarrassed to have Frank in my room, rather than excited. I opened the door and cringed at my bedroom walls, which were covered in drawings and paintings that I’d done, many of them superheroes. Comics were strewn across my bed, as well as Mikey’s Star Wars boxers. I ran and shoved them under the bed before Frank saw them.
Frank gazed softly at my walls before turning to me and asking, “Did you do all of those?” His amber eyes were wide, but with what, I couldn’t tell.
I felt heat in my cheeks as I answered him. “Yeah.” I stared at the floor, wishing I didn’t put them up there. In truth, it had never mattered before. I’d never really had any friends next to Bob and Ray, and they liked the same stuff as me. I waited anxiously for Frank to call me a dork or something, hoping that being prepared for it would make it hurt less.
“They’re amazing,” Frank breathed. I looked up at him in surprise, but he was still looking at my walls. “You’re really good.”
I was absolutely positive my face was the same color Mikey’s had been when my mother had mentioned Ghostbuster camp.
“Thanks,” I said, coughing to get rid of the crack in my voice.
Frank never took his eyes off my walls as he came and sat down next to me on the bed. He accidentally sat right down on my comics, and there was a crackle as the paper bent.
Frank jumped up, startled, and took the comics into his hands. He’d sat down on an issue of Doom Patrol, and now he looked at it like it was the most beautiful thing in the world.
“Is this an original?” He breathed softly, stroking the comic gently.
“Yeah.” I could see the longing in his eyes as he looked at it. “I have more.” I told him. His eyes were as big as saucers. “You can read them, if you want to.”
Frank was speechless for a moment. Then he grinned, and I swear it was the happiest I’d ever seen him. It took my breath away, that smile.
I handed Frank a stack of my Doom Patrol issues, then slid my hand under the bed and grabbed the Star Wars boxers. Getting them out of my room was a priority. I don’t think Frank even noticed that I left he was so excited.
I walked down the hall to Mikey’s room, opened the door without knocking, which always pisses him off. He was sitting on his bed, and I threw his boxers right into his face. He began to yell at me for not knocking, but I was already gone.
By the time I got back to my room, after brushing my teeth and fixing my hair, Frank was asleep on my bed, his head against his shoulder. I forced myself not to stand there and look at him, not to marvel at how lovely he was. Instead, I pulled a blanket out of the closet so that I could sleep on the floor. I couldn’t sleep with him. Unfortunately.
I surprised myself, because I was far more tired than I realized, and I fell asleep easily, within a minute or so of lying down.
I was dreaming. I don’t even remember what it was about. All I remember was that in the middle of it, I heard rustling and immediately woke up. I sleep light most of the time, and I wake up quickly. It was dark in my room, but the moonlight illuminated it enough for me to see decently. I rubbed my eyes and looked up on my bed, where Frank was rolling back and forth uneasily.
“No,” he moaned softly. “No don’t.” The sheets were twisted tightly around his small frame, almost trapping him.
“No! Dad please don’t! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Don’t hurt…” He trailed off, getting louder. I was frightened for him, because what he was seeing in his sleep didn’t seem to be anything good. I watched him as he moved back and forth in the sheets with more fervor. Suddenly, he thrashed violently.
“Don’t hurt him! Gerard stay-” I was stunned when I heard him called my name, and I was already standing from fear and excitement, waiting for him to finish the sentence when Frank rolled roughly to the side and off of my bed, hitting the floor with a soft thump. I heard the air leave him in a loud whoosh and he lay still on the floor.
I ran to his side, kneeling down. His eyes were glassy and frantic as they traveled quickly across my bedroom.
“Frank! Are you ok?” I asked him. He gasped and shuddered for a moment, then cleared his throat and looked at me.
“Yeah. Fine.” He struggled to free himself from the tangle of sheets, and I could see the soft flush in his cheeks as he righted himself.
“It was a nightmare. Sorry.” He pulled the sheets back up, looking back at me nervously. “I stole your bed, I’m sorry.” He apologized again.
“I don’t care. Take it.” I said. “You sure you’re alright?”
Frank swallowed and nodded, trying to be convincing I guess. After a minute, he crawled slowly back into my bed, this time leaving the sheets off. Within a few minutes I heard his breathing soften the way it did when he slept.
I lay back down on the floor, with one thought in my mind. He’d dreamed about me.
Sorry if it sucked majorly bad. I just had no idea what to write. Writer's block sucks.The next one will be better I promise! Thanks for waiting so long for it. No review goals this time, but please keep reviewing. I really want to know what you're thinking. And keeping greeness is good. :] Thanks so much! I love you all. Thanks for sticking with me.