Frank is saved by the man who almost killed him. Is he angry? Is he sorry? Is he confused?
"G- Gerard." Frank started, and Gerard looked up, startled. Had he not expected Frank to come around? Frank, without letting Gerard know, secretly missed the feeling of Gerards face on his neck, Gerards arm wrapped around his waist. He'd felt so comfortable there, happy to know Gerard had picked his shoulder to cry on even though he was unconscious. Why did he have to open his mouth?
"Frank." Gerard blushed, and Frank shook his head at him. "I... should probably clean your neck... it's all wet with tears..."
"No!" Frank suddenly protested. He didn't want Gerards embrace to be washed away like rubbish. It meant so much more to Frank. Gerard sat up, so he was seated somewhere near Franks waist. Frank was sure he was fiddling with the hem of his shirt, but decided he didn't want to find out.
"I thought you might not wake up." Gerard sighed. Of course, that's why Gerard was scared. Because Frank might not wake up.
"Well, I'm awake now." Frank said, grimly. Gerard smiled, his eyes a perfect portrait of relief.
"Yeah, thank the lord. Do you want me to make breakfast?" Frank nodded; he loved the feeling of the silky pillow under his head, it felt like heaven. "Great." Gerard grinned. "I'll make something soft, something you can stomach. I think we have eggs and bread in the kitchen, so I can make you soldiers, or..."
"Gerard, a fried egg sandwich will be fine." Frank told him. Frank was dazed by all of the new atmospheres, all the new feelings and experiences. Until Gerard, Frank had been at peace with himself, or more at peace with himself than he'd ever been. Sure, he'd had some problems with his sexuality, but he'd never had a breakdown like that before. It felt like all of his problems had just pounced on him. And, these cuts along his tattoos could all be cast as self-harm, couldn't they? Until Gerard, Frank had never wished to be another person. That's why Frank had curled up into Gerard when Gerard picked him up (bridal style) and carried him into the living room. Frank was irrivocably in love with Gerard. Of course he was, it was the only explanation for it.
Gerard chuckled, his toned stomach bouncing as he did. Frank felt it by his side, although he couldn't look up at Gerards smiling face. His own face was buried deep within the cloth of Gerards dirty old black polo, absorbing the heat. Frank was aware that with Gerard carrying him in this position, the scratches and grazes were being pulled painfully open, but then Frank just pushed his head further into Gerard. Yeah, he was sick. Who the fuck cared anymore? If things went wrong, he would just kill himself. It was as simple as one. Quick. Cut.
"Frank, are you trying to see my stomach or something?" Gerard finally joked, as he sat down in a huge, leather sofa. Finally, they were in the living room. Frank said nothing, he just took his head away from Gerard and rested it on the arm rest behind him. Gerard was now under Franks knees, stroking his left shin lightly through Franks jeans. "Frank, these jeans are wet and thilthy, and I swear to god I'm going to make you sit on the floor if you don't change them."
"Oh, Mr Amazing, and what am I going to change them into?" Frank replied. He could feel Gerards finger running along his trousers, but Gerard was probably just curious about the texture of his jeans, right? I mean, they were so old they'd gone smooth. That's what it was, for definate.
"There are some jeans on the radiator." Gerard said, taking his hand away from Franks leg for a second to point across the other side of the living room. "And there's a spare top, too, one of my brothers. Just don't tell him I let you wear it, okay?" Frank nodded in response, then Gerard slipped out from under his knees and walked into the kitchen. Frank opened his eyes, seeing Gerard cast a childish grin as he made his way to the doorway. "And Frank? There's a bathroom over there, so you can go and sort out your problem" Frank froze. Oh god, anything else but... of course. As Frank gazed down on himself he saw exactly what Gerard had meant.
During Gerard stroking his leg, he'd managed to aquire a semi. Well, he was only fifteen, and he'd had sex before. Young boys like him were far too, even embarrassingly turned on too easily. Frank grabbed the trousers, thrusting them over his crotch and making it to the bathroom, only one word circulating his mind. Oops.
A few minutes of thinking of Susan Boyle, and he was fine. Thank the lord he didn't have to jerk off in Gerards bathroom. Or, as a matter of fact, thank the lord for women like Susan Boyle. Frank smiled to himself as he slipped on Gerards jeans and threw his own to the floor. He took off his socks and put them with his own, wet jeans. Gerards were still warm from the radiator, and Franks legs shook as he was standing, wanting to relax in the new found heat. Frank wearing Gerards clothes. Frank wearing Gerards clothes! Then, it dawned on him. Frank hadn't grabbed the shirt. He took off his own, the wetness of his shirt contrasting badly with the comfort of the jeans, then he picked up his things and walked into the kitchen with them.
Gerard was singing a song Frank didn't recognise. "I am not afraid to keep on living, I am not afraid to walk this world alone!" Frank guessed it was probably one of his bands songs. As much as Frank wanted to progress on with his day, he also felt entranced by Gerards voice. He paused by the door, leaning on the glossy white frame. Gerard was frying the eggs at this point, and the sizzling was drowning out his voice. Of course, it wasn't loud enough to drown out Franks absent-minded loud breathing, and Gerard heard him.
"Hey, Frank. Do the clothes f..." Gerards voice faded as he turned around and stared at Frank. But, he wasn't quite staring at Frank, but at his torso. The tattoos kept him almost mesmerised, the pale skin turning him on, slightly. Frank, like an idiot, decided to pass it by with another excuse again. Of course, Gerard was trying to read the tattoos.
"It says search and destroy." Frank informed Gerard.
"I see that." Gerard breathed, then he came back to reality. He was getting turned on by a hobos torso?! "Ah! Um... just put your things in the washing machine. Please. I'll sort it later."
"Sure." Frank smiled and put everything in the washing machine before walking back into the living room. Gerard sighed, a small sigh of relief, before putting the egg on some fresh buttered bread. He felt strangely good about Frank, like he didn't want him to leave. After all, Frank had got a hard-on over Gerard. Gerard knew Frank liked him, that's why Frank fell asleep at the comic shop - because he knew Gerard would find him. Well, this was it. Gerard was going to try it. At some point, Gerard WAS going to get Frank. Gerard liked him, Frank liked Gerard back. What was stopping them?!
Oh, no! Gerard has it all wrong! He thinks Franks going to be willing, but Frank has so many problems with his sexuality!