Frank explains to Mikey; Gerard has an unpleasant encounter with Jonathan.
Chapter Sixteen: Nymphomaniac Fantasia
"What the fuck do you mean, you don't know?"
Frank lowered his head, averting Mikey's accusing stare. It did not matter that he was not on eye level with the boy however -- he could still feel the rising anger pulsating from him as he stood on their doorstep.
He had called Mikey over in his panic, hoping that Gerard might have gone to him in his dismay. Although he should have remembered that Mikey lived quite far from their location, and it would have been impossible for Gerard to get there on his own either way.
Mikey had instantly detected that something was amiss, and so he had demanded that he see his brother at once. It gave Frank pleasure to see that Mikey had come back to his senses, and had returned to his usual overbearing concern for Gerard, but unfortunately it put himself in an awkward position.
"We had... a bit of a fight." Frank explained meekly, leaving out the fact that he was the one doing most of the fighting. "I went to bed so I could calm down, and when I woke up, he was just sort of gone."
"Well how far have you searched for him for? How long ago was this exactly?" Mikey questioned.
"It -- look, why don't you come inside?" Frank suggested gesturing at the living room behind him. "I can fix us some coffee an--"
"I don't want to go inside!" Mikey interrupted him, clearly stressed, "I want to know where my fucking brother is!"
"Calm down!" Frank blared. "Its been two days. To be honest, I doubt it would be a big difference if we took five minutes to sit down and talk this out."
Mikey paused and glared at him. Finally, he brushed past Frank and into the home, mumbling as he went along. Frank felt somewhat bewildered -- even for Mikey, Frank felt as though he was being a bit too hostile.
His suspicions were not helped by Mikey’s body language for the rest of his visit, as he shifted in chairs and banged mugs and utensils. Frank tried to ignore it as best he could, focusing on the task at hand. He explained that Gerard had taken his car, and Mikey then seemed even more anxious. It was at the point where Mikey was giving him the evil eye where Frank’s tolerance finally broke.
“What the fuck is your problem?!?” Frank asked him, not even bothering to finish the sentence he had only just started.
“My problem?” Mikey hissed. “My problem is that I fucking trusted you with him, and you lose him just a few months in!”
“I didn’t lose him!” Frank argued angrily, “He ran off!”
“He was your responsibility!” Mikey spat.
“Far more yours than mine!” Frank countered.
And at that, Mikey had nothing to say. He backed down, like a scowling dog whose prey had jumped over a fence too high for him to conquer.
“He can’t have gone far.” Said Frank as he sat back into the armchair where he was perched. “I can’t imagine he can drive very well in that thing – I just hope he hasn’t… well… you know.”
A tiny flicker of fear passed through Mikey’s expression, and he looked directly at Frank before he said, “What can I do?”
“Just help me find him. You have a car; we can drive around the villages nearby. We can keep a lookout for both him and my car, because neither can be too far from the other.” Frank assured him. Mikey nodded a somber nod, and smiled at Frank sadly.
“I'm... I'm sorry for snapping at you. I just… I’m scared is all.”
Frank only gave a shrug, looking down at the floor beneath his feet.
“So am I, Mikey. So am I.”
Less than 30 minutes away, there was another terrified soul that had even more reason to be fearful than they, for he had found himself in the grips of a man much larger than he.
“Shhh… it’s okay Gerard. I’m not going to hurt you. Just stay still, baby.” Jonathan spoke to Gerard in a low murmur, as he laid on top of him.
It was night, and the only light in the room came from the moon that shone full and boastfully outside of the window. Yet Gerard could not even see that, as his face was buried into the pillow of his bed, and he could only tremble underneath the beast above him.
Jonathan was slipping his fingers inside the pajama pants that Jonathan had provided him himself, and Gerard could feel them crawl their way to his nether regions. They slithered like the slimiest snail, as they were soaked in cheap lubrication.
It had begun very suddenly. Gerard had been drifting off to sleep in his room, when Jonathan had tip-toed silently to his bedside. He had not said a word, only gotten into the bed with him.
The mattress had creaked eerily in the silence, as the extra weight deflated it slightly. In his sleepy state, Gerard had almost thought he was Frank. A small smile nearly came upon him before he realized it was Jonathan who was there instead, and nervousness replaced delight.
Gerard had tried to speak, something he was almost getting better at as of lately. But Jonathan quieted him quickly, whispering “Shhhh…” as he inched himself on top of Gerard, slowly pinning him down.
He had started off with only two to nestle between Gerard’s buttocks, with which he spread them slightly and inserted into his entrance. He moved the fingers inside Gerard ever so slightly, and even at the first insertion, it caused great discomfort. Yet he was not done there, and Jonathan withdrew them for a moment before he brought them in again, adding another finger to the mixture.
He continued to finger Gerard for what may have been two or so hours, while Gerard emitted muffled whimpers into the sheets. He was not sure what stopped him from fighting: his handicapped motor skills or the fact that he was terrified of the situation he had found himself in. He only knew that he could not bring himself to move, except for the tensing he did whenever Jonathan would slip his fingers into his anal passage yet again.
“You’re so tight baby.” Jonathan moaned, his voice dripping with pleasure.
He would spread out his fingers whenever they were inside, purposely trying to stretch out the membrane. He applied pressure to its walls, and it felt to Gerard as though he was trying to tear him apart from the inside of his rectum. By the 40th minute, Gerard was squealing rather than whimpering. Had it not been so dark, Jonathan would see that Gerard was also deep shade of crimson that was a drastic contrast from his usual pale color.
It was not until maybe 4 or 5 AM that Jonathan withdrew his fingers from Gerard for the last time. Gerard waited with bated breath to see what he might do next, but Jonathan only helped pull the back of Gerard’s pajama bottoms back up.
“See?” Jonathan lifted himself from Gerard, emitting a slurping noise as though he was sucking the juices from his fingers, “That wasn’t so bad.”
Jonathan left him then, without so much as a goodbye. Yet it was long after he had gently closed the bedroom’s small oak door that Gerard was able to move, and only to wipe the tears of horror and humiliation that drenched his face.