Frank couldn't stay asleep much longer than an hour after he'd been placed in bed. He woke up to a racing heart and an uncomfortable warmth making it impossible to fall back into unconsciousness. He remembered falling asleep in the art room with Gerard standing in front of him, focused on his work. Since he had no recollection of wandering into his room on his own he assumed that Gerard had carried him which left him feeling quite odd. Even though he had not been awake to experience either, he recalled the day that he and Gerard first met, when he was carried off completely defenceless without anyone noticing, not even himself. Technically he had walked right into his own doom, unknowingly and naive to what was to come only moments later when he asked the alluring man for a lighter. He remembered thinking of how attractive the raven haired man was, sulking in the corner. It had been innocent. He didn't expect anything when he walked up to Gerard, he was older and (as he had thought then), wouldn't be interested. Sometimes he did blame himself, when he had nothing else to do but ponder how he'd been living if he wasn't in captivity. Most times though he was content in blaming Gerard.
Right now though he was fidgety and restless but at the same time, exhausted. He was parinoided due to the dark room, his mind forced him to focus on the distorted humming of the house, the quiet but excruciatingly loud settling creeks that made him gasp and flinch. His toes curled as he bit down on his lip painfully, everything was too loud the darkness wasn't helping him rationalize. He had to get out of the room, he was done with crying for the week and he knew where this was leading.
He pulled at the lamp switch twice and sighed in relief as the room lit up. He sat for a moment on the edge of his bed, looking over at the full body mirror Gerard had installed to his wall, "so he could see how pretty he was," Gerard had joked. He remembered blushing like an idiot. He shook his head out of embarrassment, like he would fling the memory from his head. When he scrunched his eyes he was met with his face, lit up by the soft glow of the lamp. Gerard had gotten him a light with dimming settings since he'd told him about how he struggled with sensory processing and how he couldn't handle bright lights. He'd been so understanding and sweet about the whole thing, Frank still hasn't thanked him for it.
He squinted at his reflection, lifting a slow hand up to his cheek. The light caused abstract shadows that caused a sharpness to show against his features. His hair was messy and sticking up oddly, he couldn't be bothered to fix it or think too much about the bags under his eyes. He wished morning would come faster but the digital clock on his nightstand was telling him that it was only nearing 11pm. He came to the conclusion that he wasn't going to be getting any sleep like this. The longer he was in the room the more paranoid he was getting and his tiredness was making it all the more unbearable.
He grabbed the light blue knitted blanket that draped over the end of his bed frame and wrapped it around his shoulders. The soft yarn and the scent of the washing powder that Gerard buys was comforting as he escaped the confines of the room. He was thankful that the hall wasn't pitch black, there was a wax warmer emitting the aromatic scent of sugar cookie, something that smelled like autumn and an auburn colored light that glowed not too bright and not too dim. He wondered if Geraed secretly had a little far of the dark, as ironic as it sounded, He thought of the man fearing something he couldn't even see attacking him in the safety of his own home, it was ridiculous, only because it was Gerard. He shouldn't have anything to fear, he was what most people were afraid of.
Gerard's door wasn't closed. There was a small crack being kept intact only by a hardback copy of The Catcher in the Rye sitting between the door and frame. Frank remembered Gerard telling him about it being his favorite at some point, Gerard probably thought that he wasn't listening since he hadn't responded but he was about ninety nine percent of the time. He loved hearing Gerard talk, specifically about the things that made him happy and how passionate he seemed when he did so.
Slowly, so slow that he held his breath to make sure that he heard just how loud each of his tentative steps were, he pushed the door open and stepped through it. Once he had one foot inside of the room, touching the chill hardwood, bent down to push the book outside of the doorway. When the book was out of the way he straightened himself back out slowly so as to not make any shuffling sounds, taking the door between his two hands he pulled himself through the crack, not opening the door anymore than he had to in order to avoid the squeaking that he'd heard from Gerard's bedroom door before. Once in the room completely, the darkness enveloped him, aside from the small slit from the slightly opened door created by the hallway's luminance.
He gasped quietly enough that he didn't worry himself, not feeling quite prepared for it to be so incredibly dark that he could just barely make out what was in front of him. Carelessly, he let go of the door letting it slam shut. The distance had only been but a couple inches but in the silent house the relatively quiet click of the door closing sounded like an eruption, especially when you were attempting to be furtive. He paused hearing his heartbeat clear in his chest like a bass drum. He stared ahead, still frozen in time, watching Gerards slow breathing. He followed the outline of Gerard's body, seemingly unconscious in the king sized bed. His breathing never stuttering or changing, the constant up. . . down of his breathing told Frank that the sound hadn't woken him at all. Frank let out a breath of relief and scolded himself in his head for being so incautious.
He stood still for a moment, not feeling confident enough to keep moving after that mistake. When he finally was able to get his feet to move again, it was slow and methodical, each step being calculated so as to not cause any noise.
When he was close enough that he could make out Gerard's features in the dark, he stopped. He was beautiful when he was this vulnerable, Frank didn't even scold himself for thinking it. As time passed he'd become more and more aware of his attraction to his captor, it was barely deniable now with the man constantly being on his mind even when he wasn't around. The attention that Gerard paid him was addictive and it didn't hurt that he found the man quite interesting too.
He pulled the dark colored sheets back steadily, the noise that they made as he did seemed like violent thunder in the otherwise silent room. When he slipped into the bed he finally let himself relax, if Gerard were to wake up now it wouldn't be due to anything he'd done.
Gerard's reaction to foreign noises or happenings in general was unique. He never found himself in a state of absolute shock or fear, things seemed much easier when those feelings were stored away. He supposed his one greatest fear would be losing Frank, in the beginning this would be referring to his insufficient contact that he was suppressed to, and now it was all the more literal. He carried anxiety now that neared unbearable, his blessing of his boy's presence doubling as a curse of constant paranoia that somehow he'd escape from him. Things became more comfortable as the days and weeks passed and Frank grew to be less tense when he touched him. He felt more confident in his memories of locking the doors and windows and in Frank not checking them if he hadn't.
The thought of nights being such an obvious opportunity for Frank to take off hadn't even crossed his mind until this very moment. It felt robotic almost, the way that he became conscious so quickly and aware of the situation at hand all at the same time. He should've had him tied up, chained to his bed frame or handcuffed to it so he wouldn't be able to get up until Gerard allowed him. He felt so stupid, he scrunched his eyes closed tight, the feeling of regret and embarrassment disorenting his thoughts.
His movements were slow and deliberate. Gerard could hear how lightly he moved, he had some kind of plan, it wasn't aimless. He kept his eyes closed for now, keeping his body still as possible since Frank had no idea he'd woken him. He couldn't imagine any scenario—ending with Frank's escape from the house that would place the boy in his bedroom of all places. Nothing was stopping Frank from walking right out of the front door and screaming to the neighbors for help, ruining both of their lives within seconds but here he was being clumsy in his bedroom.
The closer he got the more desperately Gerard searched for an explanation, going as far to imagine Frank with a kitchen knife in his hands planning to kill Gerard in what he thought was his sleep. The logical part of him knew that Frank wouldn't do that, the boy had regressed to a state where he seemed bashful just to exist, at least around him, he doubted that he'd gain that type of confidence in the middle of the night. A selfish part of Gerard did hope that his presence made Frank that way.
He tried his hardest to keep still, to keep his breathing leveled like he wasn't mentally preparing for his death. He hadn't even gotten to hold the boy for the least time. Everything was going to be cut short, no hand holding or gentle cheek kisses like he'd wished for. They'd certainly made progress but not nearly enough. Frank was still scared and he could see it. He still had faith for his freedom and not in the way Gerard was willing to allow. To lay here and allow someone as immature as Frank to make this decision for the both of them would be irresponsible. Frank couldn't make his own choices, he was much too young and impressionable which is why he needed Gerard. He was supposed to be taking care of the boy and that couldn't be done if he wasn't alive. If he was to die Frank would be lost and the thought of that caused him more pain than the thought of dying right then in his own bed at the hands of someone he cherished. His heart was beating out of his chest, he worried that Frank might hear, but his face stayed blank and peaceful.
He was sure that if he made it known that he was awake it would be enough to spook the boy. He wouldn't put up a fight against him. He felt Frank's presence on the opposite side of the bed, they were facing each other now and it only confused Gerard more.
The sheets shifted and the bed creaked at the new weight. He was in bed with him. Gerard had come to the conclusion now that Frank was empty handed. He couldn't be planning to hurt him, not by climbing into his bed with him.
The feeling of Frank's body heat near him was intoxicating. He felt like he was finally being rewarded for all of the troubles it had taken to get his boy, to finally have him willingly within arms reach was surreal. Gerard's limbs, while they felt as if they were vibrating, stayed still while Frank tossed and turned. Each time the boy would shift Gerard would play that their skin would touch, and when it finally happened it took all of him to continue pretending to be unconscious. Frank's fingers whisking over the skin of his wrist felt similar to his first kiss. There were butterflies rioting in his stomach and his skin tingled so sweetly where they touched.
At first Gerard assumed it to be an accident, as sweet as it was he didn't think for a moment that Frank had done this on purpose. Getting into bed with him—while Gerard wouldn't say that he completely understood that either—was one thing, making an effort to touch him was ridiculous. Frank still feared him, less and less as each day passed, yes, but there was still a lack of trust between the two. Gerard loved the boy with his entire being and he was begging to believe, after this especially, that in the future his boy might love him too, if only half as much.
But even after Frank has settled, his breathing finally calming down as the adrenaline leaves his body. Gerard could feel the nervous movements of Frank's fingers at his arm again. He took a risk in opening one of his eyes, barely enough to see through his lashes. The dark made it much more difficult to make anything out but he with it happening right in front of his face he couldn't miss it. The corner of his mouth twitched as he fought against a smile. Frank's fingers, moving as slow as possible wrapped around his wrist lightly, in a way that he wouldn't notice if he wasn't such a light sleeper. It was pure bliss to watch, whether Frank was willing to show it when they were both awake or not, Gerard knew now that his feelings were reciprocated at some extent. He had come to him. For what, Gerard wasn't sure but he was thankful for it. He wasn't able to sleep much that night.