Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Skin
Gerard’s wrapping, in vain, a coat around a wiggling Frank, trying to coerce him into the small woolen article that Mikey had brought over. The boy had different ideas as he tried to push his arms, once again, into the sleeves of Gerard’s jacket, pressing his chest against the older boys, smiling, eyes alight once again as his lips press themselves against his cheek in two rapid successions, and Gerard almost wants to simply allow the boy his small request, almost wants to throw both jackets into the closet once again and wrap both of their bodies in blankets for the remainder of the day. If it weren’t for the bare cupboards and a complete absence of anything remotely edible residing in the fridge, he probably would have.
“Frankie, please, put on the jacket.” The boys pouted lips and drawn forehead almost cause the lips of Gerard’s mouth to lift once again, but he uses the temporary lack of movement to wriggle the remaining limbs into the jacket, zipping it up before grabbing the boys hand, feeling very much like the parent of a beautiful toddler as the boy issues a small huff of protest before curling his body closer to Gerard’s once again, his eyes closed, lips parted in contentment.
Two buses, a multitude of stares, a silent game of eye-spy and they’re walking through the front doors of the grocery store, Gerard’s mood souring quickly as he considers the gawking males and females they encountered on their trip, the way people stare at Frank like they’ve never seen such a sight, and Gerard can’t help the way his blood simply boils at the thought.
It’s been a little over a week since Gerard found Frank – the angel creature – and he’d been attempting to feed him an assortment of foods, discovering quickly his distaste for all animal products except cheese – the boy was crazy for cheese.
Making their way silently through the isles of the store, Gerard tries to ignore the stares the two boys continue to evoke, tries to shake the feelings of anger when a woman blatantly stops in their path to stare wide eyed at Frank, although the boy is paying no attention; his fingers and eyes on the assortment of canned food, reaching vainly for beans that Gerard has to fish off of the top of the shelf for him. Gerard wants to shoot a glare at the woman who is still staring, gaping really, but his attention is averted to the boy-angel once again as he races back around the isle, grabbing Gerard’s hand before leading them to the next set of shelves, little squeaks of glee emitting from his lips as he points out the collection of ice cream cartons.
They leave the store laden with more food that Gerard can ever remember purchasing for himself before, sure that most of the contents will actually go to waste before they manage to eat them, but unable to deny Frank most of the items he enquired about or dropped into the cart.
They’re lying in bed, Frank wrapped up in a pair of Gerard’s sweatpants and hoodie, pulling the duvet around his shoulders like some sort of cocoon; Gerard is trying, in the same way he does every night to teach or remind Frank how to speak. The lessons have no gone very well so far.
“Gerard.” He points at himself, once again, Frank’s bored expression hardly a deterrent as he continues. “Come on Frank, your turn.” And the boy’s pouting those lips again, something Gerard has gotten used to, though hardly able to ignore the affects of the action. Still, as if Frank realizes the importance of the task to Gerard he closes his eyes once again, concentrating, moving his lips to form the words, still in silence; no sound escapes his lips.
Gerard knows that Frank is trying, can see it in the way his brow furrows, despite his obvious chagrin for the whole process.
“It’s okay Frankie, it’s just going to take some time.” He knows that this may or may not be true and that it’s entirely possible that Frank may never speak, but he’s willing to put in the time to find out for sure; and so they continue their practice.
It’s about thirty minutes later when Frank has clearly had enough; Gerard wants to continue pushing, continue teaching, but he knows that the angel has had enough for the night, his fingers reaching out to flick the switch of the light, flooding them in darkness before the feel of Frank’s body against his is felt.
“You did really well tonight Frankie…” There’s a soft hum beside him, one of the few noises that escapes the boy’s throat besides little moans and whimpers and giggles.
Gerard can feel sleep threatening to overwhelm him, can feel it coming at him in waves, almost drowning him, but he has too many questions still, hasn’t asked them for days. The way that Frank is pressed against the length of his body, his thin little fingers circling across Gerard’s chest distracting him to the point where he’s not sure he could sleep anyways.
“Why are you here Frankie?” His voice is barely above a whisper, the darkness calling for a silence that he hadn’t really known before Frank appeared. “I wish so badly that you could just talk because I just feel…I don’t even know…” There’s desperation and longing and confusion lacing his voice and he knows the helplessness of it because he can feel it in his bones and the boy’s fingers have stopped moving and the weight of his head on Gerard’s chest is gone, lifting until it’s eye level.
And Frank just stares. Staring like he does so often, like Gerard just can’t get used to because it makes him feel strange and beautiful and unworthy. And when the angel’s satin lips touch his, when his breath mingles with Gerard’s neither can help the sighs that escape.
It’s not a brief touching of lips, this kiss means something; Gerard can feel it in the way that the angel-boy’s pressing himself harder against him, his little fingers grasping at the cotton of his t-shirt and Gerard knows that he’s being told something of the utmost importance, feels the he’s being let in on some universal secret.
And then it’s over and Frank is just staring once again, his eyes bright in the darkness of the room; bright and frightened and hurt and Gerard’s struggling with what that kiss could have meant so he’s wrapping his arms around the boy angel, pulling him down, resting his head once again on his chest, his own hands rubbing soothingly across the boy’s back because he doesn’t know what else to do, because this is what he’d do to Mikey when they were kids and it seems like Frank could use it.
Gerard knows that Frank has fallen asleep, can tell by the slight rise and fall of the boys’ chest against his side and the breath that floats across his neck, the hopelessness engulfs him once again, the waves crashing until he's drowning, cursing whoever banished the creature clinging to him in the darkness.
**
I know that this one was a bit of fluff and not a whole lot of action, but I promise that I have a plan! This story is going somewhere and all questions will be answered soon!!
Please let me know what you thought - I'm dying to hear it!!
Cheers
Kat
“Frankie, please, put on the jacket.” The boys pouted lips and drawn forehead almost cause the lips of Gerard’s mouth to lift once again, but he uses the temporary lack of movement to wriggle the remaining limbs into the jacket, zipping it up before grabbing the boys hand, feeling very much like the parent of a beautiful toddler as the boy issues a small huff of protest before curling his body closer to Gerard’s once again, his eyes closed, lips parted in contentment.
Two buses, a multitude of stares, a silent game of eye-spy and they’re walking through the front doors of the grocery store, Gerard’s mood souring quickly as he considers the gawking males and females they encountered on their trip, the way people stare at Frank like they’ve never seen such a sight, and Gerard can’t help the way his blood simply boils at the thought.
It’s been a little over a week since Gerard found Frank – the angel creature – and he’d been attempting to feed him an assortment of foods, discovering quickly his distaste for all animal products except cheese – the boy was crazy for cheese.
Making their way silently through the isles of the store, Gerard tries to ignore the stares the two boys continue to evoke, tries to shake the feelings of anger when a woman blatantly stops in their path to stare wide eyed at Frank, although the boy is paying no attention; his fingers and eyes on the assortment of canned food, reaching vainly for beans that Gerard has to fish off of the top of the shelf for him. Gerard wants to shoot a glare at the woman who is still staring, gaping really, but his attention is averted to the boy-angel once again as he races back around the isle, grabbing Gerard’s hand before leading them to the next set of shelves, little squeaks of glee emitting from his lips as he points out the collection of ice cream cartons.
They leave the store laden with more food that Gerard can ever remember purchasing for himself before, sure that most of the contents will actually go to waste before they manage to eat them, but unable to deny Frank most of the items he enquired about or dropped into the cart.
They’re lying in bed, Frank wrapped up in a pair of Gerard’s sweatpants and hoodie, pulling the duvet around his shoulders like some sort of cocoon; Gerard is trying, in the same way he does every night to teach or remind Frank how to speak. The lessons have no gone very well so far.
“Gerard.” He points at himself, once again, Frank’s bored expression hardly a deterrent as he continues. “Come on Frank, your turn.” And the boy’s pouting those lips again, something Gerard has gotten used to, though hardly able to ignore the affects of the action. Still, as if Frank realizes the importance of the task to Gerard he closes his eyes once again, concentrating, moving his lips to form the words, still in silence; no sound escapes his lips.
Gerard knows that Frank is trying, can see it in the way his brow furrows, despite his obvious chagrin for the whole process.
“It’s okay Frankie, it’s just going to take some time.” He knows that this may or may not be true and that it’s entirely possible that Frank may never speak, but he’s willing to put in the time to find out for sure; and so they continue their practice.
It’s about thirty minutes later when Frank has clearly had enough; Gerard wants to continue pushing, continue teaching, but he knows that the angel has had enough for the night, his fingers reaching out to flick the switch of the light, flooding them in darkness before the feel of Frank’s body against his is felt.
“You did really well tonight Frankie…” There’s a soft hum beside him, one of the few noises that escapes the boy’s throat besides little moans and whimpers and giggles.
Gerard can feel sleep threatening to overwhelm him, can feel it coming at him in waves, almost drowning him, but he has too many questions still, hasn’t asked them for days. The way that Frank is pressed against the length of his body, his thin little fingers circling across Gerard’s chest distracting him to the point where he’s not sure he could sleep anyways.
“Why are you here Frankie?” His voice is barely above a whisper, the darkness calling for a silence that he hadn’t really known before Frank appeared. “I wish so badly that you could just talk because I just feel…I don’t even know…” There’s desperation and longing and confusion lacing his voice and he knows the helplessness of it because he can feel it in his bones and the boy’s fingers have stopped moving and the weight of his head on Gerard’s chest is gone, lifting until it’s eye level.
And Frank just stares. Staring like he does so often, like Gerard just can’t get used to because it makes him feel strange and beautiful and unworthy. And when the angel’s satin lips touch his, when his breath mingles with Gerard’s neither can help the sighs that escape.
It’s not a brief touching of lips, this kiss means something; Gerard can feel it in the way that the angel-boy’s pressing himself harder against him, his little fingers grasping at the cotton of his t-shirt and Gerard knows that he’s being told something of the utmost importance, feels the he’s being let in on some universal secret.
And then it’s over and Frank is just staring once again, his eyes bright in the darkness of the room; bright and frightened and hurt and Gerard’s struggling with what that kiss could have meant so he’s wrapping his arms around the boy angel, pulling him down, resting his head once again on his chest, his own hands rubbing soothingly across the boy’s back because he doesn’t know what else to do, because this is what he’d do to Mikey when they were kids and it seems like Frank could use it.
Gerard knows that Frank has fallen asleep, can tell by the slight rise and fall of the boys’ chest against his side and the breath that floats across his neck, the hopelessness engulfs him once again, the waves crashing until he's drowning, cursing whoever banished the creature clinging to him in the darkness.
**
I know that this one was a bit of fluff and not a whole lot of action, but I promise that I have a plan! This story is going somewhere and all questions will be answered soon!!
Please let me know what you thought - I'm dying to hear it!!
Cheers
Kat
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