Gerard is the son of the proud owner of Effeinitie Hills horse barn. Frank and Bert are the new boarders. I smell trouble and horse crap.... [Sex, language.... Ect, ect.]
disclaimer: this is a disclaimer.
Frank's large black truck bounced noisily on the loose gravel that accommodated the rough road to the new barn where his horse would be staying. Smaller pieces of gravel rebounded from the tires and hit the underside of said black truck, making a small clang with each hit. He could feel his jaw clacking to the top of his skull because of the bumpiness of the road. Rolling green hills dotted with haystacks traveled along his window, the occasional one story in-the-middle-of-fucking-nowhere houses popping up as well. There was dust stirring up around him, and the sun was shinig heavily upon everything, making the few bushes and trees seem a brighter tint than they already were.
Frank turned a sharp corner, doing exactly as Donald Way had told him. He pulled up to a large red building, like any other barn. He could see all the way through the barn, assuming that on the walls of the tunnel he could see through, there were horse stalls. The lot to keep your cars in was gravel as well, a few other cars parked in it. He could see Caddie's trailer parked as well. There was another, slightly bigger, trailer next to his. There was a large tree in the middle of the gravel yard, the sun was shinig through it, casting pleasant, leaf shaped shadows on everything. He could see the moderately sized arena past a wall of trees and metal fences.
His door slammed as he hopped out of the large truck, having to be careful not to fall out of the tall vehicle. The sounds of wind and nature filled his ears, and somewhere in there he could hear the faint sounds of horseback riding. Curious as ever, he walked over the fence surrounding the arena, going through a another fence to get there. His feet crunched on the gravel each time he set his Nike-covered foot down. He came up to the fence and watched as he saw a person riding.
His jaw almost dropped at the pace this person appeared to be cantering at. His horse was a speckled black and white quaterhorse, and a very fast one at that. There were a few high set jumps nearing the rider, and Frank just about gasped when he made them, two of them. The person began to slow his pace, easing into a sitting trot. Frank couldn't exactly see his face, shrouded as it was by the shadow of his English helmet. He was dressed in the proper wear for English equestrian Frank noted, minus the sports jacket and splints. Instead he was wearing a regular black t-shirt and short boots. Soon he stopped and dismounted about ten feet away from Frank, with his back turned away from him. On closer incpection, Frank came to the conclusion that this person was not only a magnificent rider, but extremely hot.
He pulled his helmet off, letting his just- about shoulder length raven hair fall to frame his face. Frank couldn't tell what his face looked like anyway, but he imagined it had to look good on his body. His riding pants were extremely tight, like all riding pants should be. But these looked like they were being extraordinarily tight, just to mock the world, that they couldn't touch it. Only these pants had the privallidge. He could see all of the buisness downstairs. He could see each cheeck distincltly. While his pants were doing an impersonation of ceram wrap around his ass and thighs, his shirt had decided that it would join in on the fun of mocking the world by riding up with each of his movements. His skin was extremely pale and soft looking, and Frank could only imagine soft it actually felt. He wanted to run hands up and down it. It was that attractive, he could see a slim and fragile looking waist and hips, the latter of the two swinging with every step the subject took. Speaking of stepping, he was suddenly walking towards Frank. Frank must have been staring, and thank god that he was wearing sunglasses. He had the prettiest face Frank had ever seen, once again not failing to amaze him.
With large hazel eyes, outlined by thick eyeliner and long lashes and rosy cheeks and lips, he was simply angelic. 'This is why people know you're gay when you talk to them, Frank,' he said to himself using the tiny voice located in his mind. His cheeks had an adorable amount of baby fat, and his complexion was entirely pale. Frank saw that his nose was extremely button-like and adorable. His dark black locks where wild and unruly, yet somehow managing to look like it was brushed. Tips of his hair fell around his face, the others flicking out on the edges of his head.
Frank almost didn't realize that he had stopped in front of him. He was leaning on one hip and holding his horse under his arm with the reins fisted in his hand. He flashed Frank an extremely bright and lopsided smile, all of his little teeth showing.
"Uh... Hey, you're Frank, right?" he said racking his brain for information. Frank was speechless for a few seconds, gawping at A: his uber-amazing voice (Frank's words, not mine.) and B: that he knew his name.
Frank stuttered out a nervous 'yeah', when The boy grabbed his hand suddenly and shook, once again flashing his lopsided smile.
"I'm Gerard, my dad owns the place. He's already told me about you. We're going to be seeing a lot of each other."
Frank was having a tiny break down in his head, partly from joy, partly from fear.
"Y-yeah," Frank stuttered again, smiling like an idiot. Gerard blinked a few times and wipe his face quickly, looking back and forth from his hand and to Frank.
" Do I have something on my face?" he asked innocently. Frank was glad they were interrupted then,because he couldn't think of anything to say to that.
"Gerard!" a loud voice called out to them. Both he and Frank looked over to see a man with long black locks and stubble walking up to them. He had piercing blue eyes ( every description of Bert McCracken, ever.) and a kind looking face. Frank thought he looked like a hobo, with his dirty clothes and beard. But that was probably due to the fact that he was jealous that he already knew Gerard.
"Hey Bert," smiled Gerard as the newly dubbed 'Bert' came up to them. Frank noticed that the smile looked worn out slightly, and he seemed less enthusiastic about talking to Bert.
"Well, uh, let's go in then!" Said Gerard suddenly after a few awkwards seconds. He looked back at Bert rendering to introduce Frank to Bert And Bert to Frank.
"I'm going to put Bandit away then, Kay?" he said, smiling at them, but mostly at Frank he noticed.
He turned and started towards the barn, turning Franm's attention back to his ass again. Mother of God. it took all of Frank's (admittedly small ) willpower to not go over and dry hump the other rider over his horse. He glanced at Bert when he heard a small 'Goddamn,' leave his lips. Bert appeared to be ogling the boy as well. He looked over at Frank and narrowed his eyes, the other doing the same.
Bert needed to mark his territory.
But how was he going to do that when Frank was as well?
I've always read stories where Bert is the bad guy. I dunno why, but he just seems...evil to me.