Frank made his way to Gerard's house, his head bowed to avoid the rain drops that fell steadily onto the back of his neck. He blamed the shivers that coursed through his bones on the cold – it definitely didn't have anything to do with his nerves.
He knew the path well, like he was following the lines in the veins of his own hand. Down the road, past the row of fences, around an oak tree; then, Gerard's place, tucked neatly between two tall, green shrubs. Frank wondered, somewhat distantly, whether or not it was Gerard who took care of them, or was it the Church groundskeeper? Did the Church have a groundskeeper?
Frank, evidently, was good at distracting himself. Especially if it involved disjointed thoughts.
The rain picked up after about ten minutes, much to Frank's dismay. He wandered around the grounds surrounding the house, to see if he could find shelter besides that given, albeit weakly, by the small thatched roof that jutted out only slightly. His feet sunk into the ground, creating canyons of depressions in the damp earth.
He could practically feel the mud caking his shoes, but he kept walking. He wasn't entirely sure if he was even looking for shelter anymore – he just needed to walk. He needed to not be near Gerard's house, so he could actually think.
The trees grew thicker the further he walked, until their leaves connected above his head to create a canopy, shining a kaleidoscope of sky and earth onto the floor. The rain still fell, but Frank mostly just heard it as it slid across the leaves, rather than feeling it drip onto his hair.
Fuck. Fuck, he had it so bad. When the hell did his taste go from David Bowie to the local Priest? Was he getting desperate, or soft?
"Shit," he muttered. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his rosary, his fingers trembling around the beads. He couldn't believe he was doing this. He couldn't believe he was even considering it.
Well, fuck it.
"God. I mean...yeah. God. Fuck," he shook his head, biting his lip as he looked down at his shoes, now entirely coated in the thick mud. His jeans were damp, his shirt all but see through. He shivered as a raindrop fell from his hair, sliding down his nose. He couldn't imagine a more morose situation.
"I can't do this. I can't...why him? If this is all some bullshit plan, I quit. He's pure. I don't..."
He swallowed hard, blinking fast.
"I don't wanna hurt him. I don't wanna make him hurt himself. Please. Give me strength to just...to leave him alone. He deserves better. He deserves Heaven, and purity, and all the things he vowed to protect. Please, let him stay pure," he breathed, his hands shaking.
Was that arrogant of him? To suggest to himself, and to God, that maybe he could tempt a pure man away from his vow.
But it was true. Gerard had said so. Somehow, Frank Iero, with his laugh like butterflies fluttering against a glass jar, and a wooden stake through his heart and his lip, managed to draw down the saint from his throne, to smash the cross into bits and say farewell to a good man's conscience, floating out of existence like the black smoke that billowed from a fucking funeral pyre. What a fucking joke.
There was two things that went unnoticed by Frank, for a time. The first was that he was crying. Maybe it was because his face was already wet, or because he didn't want to know that it was happening, but his mind just wouldn't recognise the action.
The second thing, was Gerard following him. In all fairness, he may have noticed, if he'd tried. If he'd looked up and turned around, he'd probably have seen the man, still in his Priest robes, struggling to make his way across the muddy terrain, holding onto his cane like a lifeline. He called out to him, but it was almost like Frank made an unconscious decision to ignore him.
He didn't respond to him until Gerard was behind him, his hair and clothes absolutely soaked from the rain, his cane drenched in mud.
"Frank. Are you okay?" he asked softly, blinking away the raindrops. Frank turned around, the rosary clenched so tight in his hand, his knuckles were white. He was shivering from the cold, his teeth chattering so he could barely speak.
"Why won't he fucking listen to me? Why can't he fix this?" he shouted, body trembling. Gerard's face softened, and he took a step closer.
"I don't have all the answers, Frank. I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you," he said softly. For once, he was being honest, and Frank's chest filled with hope. He pushed his hair back, taking a deep breath.
"I don't want to hurt you either. I don't want you to have to avoid me to stop yourself from breaking your damn vows. I want you to be happy. Cant you just..." he waved a hand. Gerard, despite the situation, found himself smiling a little amusedly, his eyebrows raising.
"Ah. I don't know what you're suggesting, but probably not," he paused to look around.
"Can we go to my place, please? It's...it's raining," he laughed. Frank couldn't help but laugh too, nodding as he placed a hand on Gerard's shoulder.
"Yeah. Yeah, okay. I'm sorry," he mumbled.
Gerard didn't reply, but shot him a reassuring smile as he led him back to his house.
Frank found himself, moments later, wrapped in a blanket, shivering slightly as he cradled a cup of tea between his fingers.
Gerard sat down next to him, smiling amusedly into his own cup as he sipped his drink. Frank giggled slightly – nervously – and took a sip of his own.
"What's so funny?" Frank asked, leaning back. Gerard grinned, still not looking up.
"Ah. It was just...real stupid of you to go out there like that," he said, meeting Frank's eyes with a warm smile. Frank chuckled, relaxing slightly.
"Yeah. Uh, I guess it was. I just...needed to walk, I guess. Clear my head," he chewed his lip, wondering if he should go on.
"Praying," he added, after a moment. Gerard looked pleased, but unsurprised.
"What did you pray for? Or can't you tell me?" he asked, taking a sip of coffee. He set the mug down, turning his body slightly towards Frank.
"I mean, I'm a Priest so – your secrets are safe,"
"Other than when you have to confess, right?" he asked, peering up. Gerard snorted, rolling his eyes.
"I didn't mention your name, Frank. That wouldn't be fair. I just...expressed the sin," he said, waving a hand. Frank was actually really impressed with how open Gerard was being. Maybe it had something to do with this being the eleventh hour, so to speak. There wasn't time left for being dismissive.
"What exactly did you say? Or can't I know?" Frank asked, turning the question back on Gerard. The older man gave a pained smile.
"Well. To paraphrase, I said that I'd been having lustful feelings for a member of my congregation, and that..." he stopped, seeming to mentally shake himself,
"and that we'd kissed. And that I'm still tempted," he murmured. His cheeks burned as he shifted, staring at anywhere that wasn't Frank. The younger man couldn't help the smile that crossed his cheeks.
"Did you get in trouble?"
"Not exactly. I got a warning. They couldn't take away my title or anything, but I still have to be careful. You really don't wanna piss off the Church," he smiled.
Frank realised with a start that he'd never heard Gerard swear before now. It was strange.
"Are you gonna need to confess for that, too? For swearing?" he asked, a grin crossing his face. Gerard looked at him and laughed weakly.
"I'm gonna have to confess for a lot," he murmured. There was something in his tone that made Frank shiver, and put an end to any further questions. For the time being.
Frank didn't want to be the one to bring up why he was really there. He didn't want to stop the flow of casual, comfortable banter that they were sharing to say 'hey, you kissed me and it fucked me up'. He didn't want to risk the rebuilding of the friendship that he'd come to value, and then lost. But how could he not? Every time Gerard smiled, or laughed, or spoke with that little half-twitch in his mouth, Frank just wanted to hold him. He wanted to kiss him, and touch him, and learn everything there was to him. He was becoming obsessed, unhealthily attached, and he needed to quell the flames before they burned him alive. He knew it. Even hellfire couldn't be this bad, so fuck, what did he have to lose?
"Gerard. I...we really need to talk," he murmured. Gerard looked up from his cup of coffee (his third since Frank had arrived) and gave a slightly uneasy smile.
"Yeah, we do. I know, I'm sorry. Please-" he shifted to face Frank, giving him his whole attention. Frank nodded, swallowing hard.
"Um. Well. That...that kiss. It happened-
"It did. And we've talked about it," Gerard said tersely. He seemed reluctant to talk – but at least he was humouring Frank.
"We did. Um. But, we didn't really talk about the fact that we both want to do it again," Frank said, his voice small. He expected Gerard to deny it – to unleash some sort of holy wrath on him and order him away.
But he didn't. Of course he didn't. He just gave a pained smile and nodded.
"No. I suppose we've sort of side-stepped that one, haven't we?" he breathed. Frank's heart fluttered and he sat up straight, feeling blood rush to his cheeks. Gerard looked up and chuckled a little, rolling his eyes.
"You can't say you didn't know," he murmured. Frank chewed his lip.
"I...I'd hoped. But I didn't know," he admitted.
"Well, now you do. I want to kiss you, still. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it, actually. It's...been distracting and confusing," he murmured, eyes darting away. It was the only tell that Frank could see that revealed that he wasn't as composed as he was pretending to be. That was, even in a small measure, a relief.
"So...what are we gonna do?" Frank asked. Gerard's eyes flicked back to him.
"Nothing. We can't, Frank. You're...very sweet, and very attractive. But I'm an old man and I'm a Priest, and this could never be anything. You have to know that," he murmured, almost sympathetically. The patronising edge to his tone got under Frank's skin, but he forced himself to remain calm.
"So what? You took a vow and now you can't be happy?" he asked bitterly. Gerard gave a soft laugh.
"I am happy. I just can't fuck," he said softly. The word, in all its crudeness, sent a wave of pleasure through Frank. It sounded so pretty falling from Gerard's holy lips – like a dirty picture scribbled into a school textbook. There was something so inappropriately validating about it, so attractive in the most forbidden way. It did nothing to Frank's need for him.
"But do you want to?"
"Frank. That's not appropriate," Gerard murmured, blushing hard. Frank smirked
"Neither is saying 'fuck', Father. But you looked real pretty doing it," he murmured, feeling bravery (and a sense of 'oh fuck it') rising in his chest.
"Makes me wonder what else you'd look pretty doing,"
"Oh, goodness," Gerard whispered, dropping his eyes. His heart began to pump despite his wishing it wouldn't. He couldn't be tempted. He had to stay pure.
Fuck, had he ever been pure? This was all a fucking joke. He was as pure as Frank was – and what was worse, the boy knew it. He knew he had Gerard.
"I'm sorry, Father, I just...I want you," he murmured, putting a hand over Gerard's where it was clenched on the sofa. Gerard sucked in a breath, but didn't move.
"I...Frank, please. I can't. I took a vow,"
"Then do it, and confess, and move on. Aren't you curious?"
"I haven't...I haven't been tempted in years," Gerard whispered.
"All the more reason to give in to it, Father. Gerard. Heaven can wait,"
"I...I want to stay pure. Don't you want me to stay pure?" Gerard whispered, his voice trembling – with need, and nerves, and every emotion inbetween. Frank smiled.
"I do. I want you to be pure, Gerard. But you've already committed the sin, just from thinking about it. About me. God knows you want me, and so do I. And so do you. So just...just once. Just to get it out of our systems," he whispered, sidling closer. Gerard swallowed hard.
"I...I want you, Frank. Oh, goodness, I want you," he breathed, his tongue darting out to swipe at his lips. Frank smirked. He seemed so confident, but inside, there was a storm brewing under his ribcage. He had no idea what he was doing – this was crazy, and so was he. But he couldn't stop. He was so close, he couldn't stop.
"And I want you, Gerard. I asked God to take this away. I asked him to keep you pure, but he didn't. You want me, and I want you. So just once – just tonight. After this I'll leave you alone. I'll pray for you every single night. I'll sing hymns until my mouth runs dry. But for God sake, Gerard. For my sake. Just fuckin' kiss me," he whispered, sliding a hand onto his thigh.
Gerard, embarrassingly, felt his cock stir at the movement. It'd been so long since he'd been touched like this. He couldn't even remember the last time someone had wanted him so badly. He found himself desperate for the hungry, predatory look in Frank's eyes. He wanted the boy to tear him apart, to devour him whole, to remind him that Hell was real. He needed to step out of the light, and feel the dark, heavy pawing of sin against his cock, in his hair, smeared across his mouth.
He'd been a filthy fucking whore once, and his body was screaming to have that back.
"Just one," he heard himself say.
"One kiss. No more. And then you leave me alone," he whispered, wrapping an arm around Frank's waist. Frank blinked in surprise for a moment, before he composed himself into a little smirk.
"Yes, sir. Whatever you say," he breathed. He reached forward, caressing Gerard's cheek. He could feel the gentle razor burn against the pad of his thumb, the soft prickle of newly grown hair poking out from his soft cheeks. He smiled, glancing down.
"You took your collar off," he noted. Gerard blushed.
"I...I thought it'd be best," he breathed. Frank giggled, stroking a hand through his hair.
"I agree. Please, relax," he murmured, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Gerard's jaw. The older man let out a soft squeal and tensed.
"I can't. Just do it and...and I'll see," he murmured. Frank met his eyes for a moment. He let his confident façade slip, and watched as the walls blocking Gerard's mind slowly fell. He saw the fear, the trepidation buried in the deep hazel rings. But he also saw want, and lust, and excitement. They mirrored the look in his own eyes, and he knew this was right. Whatever happened next, this was right.
Frank sighed as he leaned forward, and gently pressed his lips to Gerard's.
This kiss was different from their first. Gerard didn't react for a moment, but when he did, the movements were careful, calculated. It was like he was trying hard not to lose himself in the labyrinth of Frank's lips and tongue. And maybe he was. He sighed, melting into his arms, curling himself around him as he accepted the kiss. He felt himself getting hotter – maybe it was arousal, maybe it was the Devil wrapping his spiked hands around Gerard's throat.
But he didn't care. Not right then. Maybe later, alone, he'd masturbate and cry and pray, and then he'd confess. But in this moment, his salvation lay in Frank's mouth, the scriptures that he lived his life by echoed against the boy's teeth.
He needed this. He needed the sin so he could put the idea to bed. If this was the best it got, then he could handle that. He could have this moment, and then his eternity in peace.
But he knew this wouldn't be the best. He could lie to himself all he wanted, but it wasn't. The very best, would be him tied to a bed like a makeshift crucifix, with the boy between his legs and -
he almost refused to finish the thought. He didn't want to think about what Frank could possibly be doing between his legs. But the image of his young, lithe hips thrusting eagerly forward was enough to send a spark running down his back.
He moaned, pulling Frank closer as he kissed him, and feeling a mixture of agony and delight when the boy responded in kind.
Eventually, at a time that was both too late and too soon, Frank pulled back.
"Father, we have to stop," he whispered, panting hard. Gerard looked up and nodded, his eyes blown and full of a lustful fire that had no business in a Priest's eyes.
"I know," he whispered. Frank giggled, running a hand through his own hair.
"No, I mean. Uh. I'm hard, and you're...you're hard. And I don't want this to go any further," he murmured, stroking the older man's cheek. Gerard hadn't realised that he'd wanted to get fucked until Frank told him he couldn't.
"You don't?" he murmured dejectedly. Frank looked delighted, but shook his head.
"No, honey. I don't wanna fuck this up for you. This is gonna be bad enough later – but it's just a kiss. You can explain away a kiss. You can forgive a kiss," he murmured.
"You can't do any more, Gerard. I won't let you. I won't let you throw away Heaven,"
Gerard made a soft whining noise. He knew Frank was right – and God, he was so thankful that one of them was thinking from above the waist.
"What if I don't want it anymore?" he whispered, taking Frank's hands. The younger boy gave him a sympathetic look and kissed his cheek, pulling back gently. It wasn't a rejection, but it was a goodbye, of sorts.
"You do. As soon as I'm not here, you'll be praying. And I'll pray for you too – like I promised," he murmured, rising to his feet. He wordlessly grabbed his jacket, and didn't speak again until he was at the door.
"I promised I'd leave you alone, too," he reminded him softly. Gerard smiled weakly. He could already feel the regret settling into his skin like a disease.
"Y'know. I think...I think I might still need some help around the Church on Sundays. I mean, if that's something you'd want?" he asked hopefully. Frank opened the door, and both men shivered at the sobering bite of the icy wind. Frank smiled and nodded.
"I'll see you Sunday then, Father. Thank you for the tea and...and everything," he murmured. He gave a nervous nod before he slipped out of the door.
There was a good three seconds before Frank began to start laughing, almost hysterically into the silent night.
Maybe Gerard would have heard it, had he not started crying at the same time.