Dust motes danced in the light spilling in through the windows; Frank watched Gerard lift his arm and lazily try to catch them.
"Why didn't you let me go?"
Gerard let his hand drift back down to the bed again, back to Frank's skin.
Frank covered it with his own, lifted it to his mouth and kissed Gerard's knuckles, the ball of his thumb, his palm. He rolled them over so he was on top again, moved in the tangle of sheets to rest between Gerard's thighs.
"Frank," Gerard whispered, hand on the side of Frank's face. Sweat had gathered in the hollow between his collarbones; Frank ducked down to taste it, salt-sting on his tongue.
He kissed up the side of Gerard's throat, lingering at the soft place under his jaw. He felt Gerard's arms come up around him, and then just like that Frank was inside him again, with Gerard's thighs tight around his hips, and his breath coming fast and helpless against Frank's ear.
"Why didn't you just let me go?" Frank was obsessed with the bare skin of Gerard's throat, he couldn't hold back from sucking kisses in a ring around it, marking it for his own. He felt Gerard's moans under his lips, felt his hands tighten on Frank's shoulder, his back, in his hair.
Frank pushed forward and Gerard arched his back, eyes closed, gasped, "I'm too selfish. Frank, Frank, please," and Frank said, "Yeah, anything," and kissed him deep as they rocked together in Frank's bed.
The phone rang.
Frank woke up.
"Fuck," he breathed. The ceiling was blurred and his vision swam, and he closed his eyes against it, against the traffic noise outside and the beam of sunlight that sliced through the gap in the drapes and lay across Frank's face, too-hot and insistent. His head hurt and his mouth was dry. His dick throbbed and his skin prickled all over with remembered sensation.
"Fuck," Frank said again, and shoved his hand down under the sheets so he could wrap it around his cock and jack himself off as quick as possible, kept his eyes closed so he could hang onto the dream for another moment and come while he was still confused about being in an empty bed.
He lay there panting for a while; wiped the sweat off his face with the back of his hand. When he heaved himself out of bed, he walked to the bathroom on shaky legs and stood in the shower for a long time, head bowed under the spray, hands braced against the tile wall.
The phone rang again while he was changing his sheets. He didn't pick up.
*
Ella was picked up a few days later. Mikey borrowed Ray's car and drove Frank out to meet the family who'd found her eating something out of their trash. It was a real nice neighborhood, Frank thought, watching the trees on either side of the wide avenues go by. The sort of place his Mom had always wanted them to live when he was a kid, even though Frank preferred someplace a little dirtier, really, and had never felt like his life sucked because he couldn't run out to the ice cream truck and then play in the sprinklers with Jimmy and Susie from next door, or whatever.
He couldn't do that shit anyway; dairy made him sick and his lungs were such a mess when he was small that he might as well have run under a sprinkler shooting pneumonia out over the lawn, but his Mom still always got a wistful look on her face when they showed those fake families on TV.
The family didn't have kids called Jimmy and Susie, they had two small daughters and a big house with a safe backyard. Frank sat in their dining room and drank their coffee and watched Ella running back and forth between the daughters, barking happily at the ball they were throwing around.
"They fell in love with her pretty much right away," the Mom said apologetically.
Frank nodded and put his cup down on the coaster she'd passed him. "Yeah, so did I."
He refused the Dad's offer to pay him for Ella, just told them what she liked to eat and promised to send her veterinary records along.
"She looked real happy there," he explained to Mikey on the way home, more to stop Mikey shooting him worried glances than anything else. "I can't give her that life, Mikey. She's better off."
"But she's your dog," Mikey insisted, hands tightening on the wheel.
Frank looked out the window as the trees rushed by in reverse. "Not anymore."
YOU ARE READING
Unholyverse
Fanfiction"He thinks I have stigmata," Frank said, because what the fucking hell, it couldn't get any worse. He might as well just lay it out. "Oh, well," said Brian into his hands. "Of course." ~ I did not write this story. All credit goes to the author, Bex...
