FicWad

Frank.

When I came into consciousness the next morning, I was confused and disoriented, wondering where I was and how I had gotten there and... and who was this gorgeous angel pressed up against my chest? As I
looked around I noted that I was sleeping on a small grey fold out couch, encased in a thick plushy sleeping bag. A boy who looked a few years older than me was squished inside the oversized sleeping bag as
well, pressed cozily to my chest, snoring softly. His semi-greasy black hair fell across his face and stuck up at funny angles, contrasting his deathly pale face. The area around his eyes seemed to be
permanently red, not makeup nor any type of stain, but just scars of sleepless nights and brutal overdoses. I knew the look. I felt a natural attraction to this boy; a need to protect him and help him and be
with him always. Not that I was in any state to be helping or protecting anyone, i was in dire need of help and protection myself. Memories of the night before came flooding back to me, and with them came a
throbbing headache and stinging wrists. I groaned softly, which seemed to be just enough to wake the sleeping angel. His eyes fluttered open, revealing tired and foggy, but amazingly gorgeous, hazel-green
eyes. His lips were slightly parted and his skin flushed pink when he realized our position. I felt myself blush as I realized how odd it must seem, two total strangers basically tangled together in a
sleeping bag, and I had done nothing to move or wake him as I awoke.

"Um..."I started, "I'll, er, get it. Sorry." I spoke softly as I found that loud noises increased my headache. I reached over and unzipped the sleeping bag, only making it half way before I felt a warm hand
on mine, stopping me.
"Don't," I heard him say quietly, "Bob's there." He pointed over the side of the couch and I leaned over to look, finding a young man with bleach blonde hair and a lip ring curled up in a mass of blankets
next to the boy with chestnut brown hair. I realized why he hadn't wanted me to unzip the sleeping bag; he was pressed against the edge and depending on the zipped side for support, if i had unzipped it he
would have fallen onto the sleeping guys. Both the boy next to me and the one with brown hair looked familiar, but I couldn't place a name for either of them. I felt awkward lying that close to the black
haired boy, seeing as though I was fully dressed, he was clothed only in his boxers. I couldn't help but peek when he sat up, I was gay by nature, only one of the reasons my disapproving parents had thrown
me onto the streets. He was very skinny and his body was even more pale than his face. Each rib was visible beneath his skin and his hipbones protruded even more so than mine did, which is saying something.
He must have caught me looking, because he smiled softly. "Creepy, eh? I know I'm freaking skinny, I'm just never hungry."

"Oh, uh, no," I responded rather un-smartly. "it's not creepy. I'm the same way." I thought about raising my shirt to show him, since it seemed neccessary, but realized that that would seem rather odd and
awkward, considering we'd only just met. "um..." I went on, "who...are you?"

"We had introductions last night, I suppose you don't remember. You were kind of baked." He smiled. "I'm Gerard."

"Gerard," I smiled, trying the name out. I liked it. Individual and unique, with a hint of taste and elegance. "I'm Frank."

"I know, I didn't forget. My brother's Mikey, he's the one who brought you in last night."

"Oh, with the brown hair. Okay. So you're the alcoholic slash druggie slash suicidal freak he was going on about?"

"I...guess so?" He frowned, looking troubled.

"Don't feel bad, I'm all of those things too." I smiled softly, then my face fell a little as I felt an uncomfortable cramping in my stomach. "Can I use your bathroom?"

"Yeah, it's just right there, don't step on anyone or you'll probably get shot or tickle tortured. Especially Ray, don't step on his hair or else you're dead meat, learned that the hard way."

"Um....ohhhkay." I carefully climbed out of the sleeping bag and tiptoed around the mass of sleeping bodies, carefully making my way to the bathroom that Gerard had pointed out. I went inside and closed the
small sliding door, letting my jeans drop and relieving myself into the small toilet. I immediately felt a bit better. When I was done I yanked up my ripped up and too-big jeans and flushed the small toilet,
not bothering to wash my hands since there was no sink. I opened the small door and again made my way through the mine field of bodies to a small table in the back where I saw Gerard sitting. I walked over
and sat awkwardly across from him. I stayed silent, staring at the tabletop.

"So...whenever everyone gets up and such, do you want us to drop you off at home?" He asked me.

"Er...you don't have to..."

"Well yeah we do, I don't want you to have to walk."

"No, I literally mean, you don't have to. I've been living in the back of that venue for a week now, you don't have to drop me off anywhere."

He fell silent and I looked away, embarassed. He was obviously creeped out by the fact that he'd just slept with a hermit all night. [but not like that, perverts]

"Well then you'll just have to tour with us."

I looked up, confused. He wanted me to tour with them? The band that I had spent the night listening to through the thin walls of the club? The band whose lyrics were amazing, and were probably the reason I
brought a knife to my skin instead of a gun to my head? The band that had most likely saved my life. I stammered, "I-i couldn't. I don't want to impose."

"Nonsense," He said with a smile. "You wouldn't be a bother at all. You seem like a cool kid. Plus you're really light and have about zero baggage, so it's not like you take up any extra room."

"Well, er, thanks. I appreciate it."

"Anytime." His smile grew to a grin. "So...do you maybe wanna go get some coffee?"

I smiled. "It's a date."


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