Chapter 2: Promise
A nod of his dark head is all the confirmation that Gerard needs, a shaking breath filling his chest before he pushes himself off of the wall, hesitation and uncertainty lacing every step towards the small boy lying on his front, those brilliant olive eyes watching, pleading. Long fingers shake as he grabs the wet cloth he’d dropped in his surprise, continuing his task of cleaning the boys wounds, his throat tight with the new knowledge.
“So, uh, do you have a name?” Gerard feels like answers, or perhaps just noise to fill the silence will help him deal with the surprise and the horror. The boy simply turns his head to look again at Gerard, his gaze as intense as it was the first time they locked eyes, before he slowly shakes his head.
“Well, you need a name…” Gerard ponders for a moment, biting on his bottom lip as his brows furrow in thought, the disgust rolling waves through him as he wipes the last of the blood, the boy’s eyes never leaving his face. “We’ll have to pick something, I can’t call you ‘kid’…what about Trevor?” A quick shake of his dark little head, a scrunch of his nose and Gerard nibbles on his bottom lip, deep in thought. “Jake?” Again his offer is denied.
“Oh, what about Frank?” The boy’s eyes brighten once again, plush lips lifting up to expose all of his teeth as he nods excitedly; his very skin seems to glow with pleasure and Gerard finds himself smiling and laughing in response, quickly stifled beneath the velvet tight against his mouth. Eyes wide, arms flailing and the pressures gone like it was never there to begin with. Frank staring innocently up at him as though he’d never moved, and Gerard can’t help thinking that perhaps he didn’t, perhaps he just imagined those lips pressed briefly against his own, perhaps he’d had more to drink that he previously supposed. A shaky breath, eyes darting to observe the boy angel whose smiling up at Gerard like love and awe and worship.
“Alright…Frank it is.” And the boy is still beaming, even beneath the pain of Gerard’s deft ministrations, allowing his tender skin to be covered in gauze and tape and bandages, Gerard’s long fingers caressing Frank’s supple skin unconsciously as he tapes the final pieces in place, a soft hum emanating from the boy, his eyes fluttering closed at the feel of Gerard’s touch.
“Can you talk?” Frank nods breathlessly, opening his mouth to accentuate his point before his brows furrow in confusion when nothing passes through those lips, his fingers grasping at the thin skin of his throat wordlessly, head shaking and bowing to stare at the black comforter once again and Gerard’s head is filled with bewilderment.
“Can you understand me?” Frank nods once again, olive eyes confused as the struggle to speak continues within the youth, his lips set in a determined pout, small exasperated huffs issuing past his closed throat. And Gerard can’t help thinking he’s the cutest and saddest thing he’s ever seen.
“Where’d you come from?” Gerard realizes the youth can’t properly form an answer, rephrasing, “Did you, I mean, are you from, uh, heaven?” Gerard’s eyebrows are furrowed in matching distress at the possibility he’d long ago abandoned. Frank’s nod is again his only response, eyes heartbreaking and outraged and poignant and Gerard can’t stop the small crack that appears along his heart for the broken boy sitting on his bedspread. It’s clear that Frank has more to say, some explanation that can’t escape his lips and he’s begging Gerard to understand his desperate eyes and fluttering hands.
“I don’t understand Frankie…I don’t know how to help you…” Again the boy’s brow is furrowed, jaw clenched, eyes darting fleetingly around the room, hoping to find something only he knows. Gerard tries following his gaze, but the boy’s eyes are roaming so quickly he can’t keep up, unsure of the intended target anyways. “Please Frankie, tell me what to do!”
The boy angel looks up at Gerard once again, remembering his existence, his eyes all bright and awestruck before his lips are pressed against Gerard’s once again, the speed and fluidity of his movements completed before the older man has even registered them. Even though it’s not the first time the boy has placed those velvet lips against Gerard’s his surprise is no less than the former attempt; eyes wide and unsure, fingers pressing with soft resistance into the bare skin of the boy’s shoulders, pushing him and his shiny lips away until Gerard feels like he can breath without taking in the same air as the boy staring up at him with that strange and unjustified mix, and his hands are shaking as he touches them to his lips to confirm that they do in fact belong to him, their warm wetness verifying that Frank’s were pressed up against them mere seconds ago and Gerard knows that he’s losing it for real this time.
His mutters of ‘oh God, oh Fuck’ a mantra he repeats as he wanders hastily from the bed, the wall, the dresser, the window, until he reaches the door, his head swiveling to look at the boy still perched, legs crossed easily, on the bed, his lips smiling and shining and tempting.
“I’ve got to um…just-” His fingers grasp the doorknob, pulling it open before he can reconsider his earlier decision, ripping himself from the room before he’s dashing down the hallway, breath rasping against his fingers as they continue to trace his lips, seeking confirmation again. His eyes dart to the slightly ajar door of his room like something might tear it’s way through it. Nothing moves in the silent apartment except the heaving chest of the man who rents it.
Throwing his body into the worn leather of his couch, fingers threading their way through unwashed hair, eyes closed, thoughts whirling. He contemplates what to do with the strange creature – angel boy – Frank. He doesn’t want to send him back out to the streets, unsure if he even has somewhere to go, but also knows that he’s barely able to keep himself fed, washed and clothed. There’s a new, strange, and somewhat unwelcome need to protect the boy; uncertain when it arrived but cursing it’s arrival nonetheless.
Knowing he needs to return to the bedroom, can’t continue to hide out in the cushions of his couch, contemplating the complexities of life and whether or not there might actually be a heaven from which the beautiful creature on his bed came from. His legs feel stiff though he knows from a quick glance at the clock he’s barely been sitting for more than twenty minutes. One more, much needed deep breath and he’s feet are leading him back to the source of all of this confusion.
Fingertips press lightly into the dark wood of his door, eyes closed briefly with regret and slight embarrassment at his most recent disappearance-escape; the boy no doubt imagines him half crazed.
The sight of the boy creature-angel curled up, inked fingers gripping the dark sheets below his chin, battered silk skin hidden from Gerard’s searching eyes and wandering fingers as he seats himself as gently beside the boy, refraining himself from touching the vision before him.
“Frankie?” Gerard knows the boy is half way asleep, knows he couldn’t-wouldn’t answer even if he wasn’t. “Who did this to you?” The slow rhythmic rise and fall of the small chest, the pout of his lips, the way his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks and Gerard’s fingers are stretching, straining, touching, Frank’s skin smooth and flowing and Gerard is lying beside the sleeping boy before he realizes he’s moved. His limbs forming a mutiny against his thoughts as he curls up closer to the boy, quickly comfortable beneath the sheets.
His lips against the forehead dormant boy before his own eyes are wavering against the lull of sleep. “I won’t let anyone else hurt you.” His promise a whisper against the velvet skin of a broken boy-angel.
So? What do we think of Chapter 2?
Please please please let me know!! Any and all comments/rates/questions/critiques are appreciated and welcome!!