A wake up to a soft nudge to my shoulder and I'm greeted with a pair of gorgeous hazel eyes peering down at me as I lazily open mine.
"Good morning" Gerard says. I look him up and down. He's wearing one of the shirts he'd packed and a pair of boxer briefs. I try to ignore the obvious morning situation he's got going on and try to roll onto my back. "You sure you want to go back to sleep?" He says with a voice that's hinting some teasing.
"You'd better get out of bed, or else you're going to be late." He says, as I push myself up on my elbows. I push off my own covers that were hiding my tattoo-covered body. "Wow" I hear Gerard mumble. "Frank... These are amazing... Oh man, this one is wicked," he says with an admiring grin as he runs his hand over the Hope tattoo above my left nipple. "Don't do that please," I tell him. He shrugs and jumps off the bed, bending over to grab some clothes (probably mine, but I could care less) and walks into the bathroom. Before closing the door he asks me "is it okay for me to shower?"
"Yea, no, go ahead!" I say as I wipe the sleep out of my eyes. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and stumble into my living room to make myself some coffee. I shout to Gerard if he wants some, too and he replies happily shrieking a "YES". He must love coffee a lot.
When Gerard was done showering, the coffee was ready, too. I spent the waiting time strumming my Pansy. After finishing our coffees, we make our way to work, walking close together - but not holding hands - and separate after a block. I walk the other one alone, thinking about what tomorrow would bring. Gerard and I both have this weekend off, and he promised to introduce me to one of his friends today or tomorrow. I really hope he's a cool guy, I could use a friend myself.
----
I walk home with a slight skip in my steps once my shift is finished. Annie's is an incredibly pleasant place to work and Emma and I have the same taste in music. We talked about it a lot today and we had some small fights about what songs to play next in the shop. I consider her a low-key or a work friend from now on. The sight of my apartment building brings a smile on my face, as does the prospect of getting to spend the next 48 hours with Gerard.
As I walk in the door, I am welcomed by the smell of lasagne. Gerard just came back up from putting it in the oven.
"Hey, Frank!" He smiles brightly as I walk into the small apartment after kicking off my shoes. "I hope you don't mind I took the liberty of raiding your cupboards and cooking you up some vegetarian lasagne?" I shake my head and tell him it's fine and that I, in fact, am vegetarian. "Oof," his reply is. "It's a good thing I didn't run to the store for some beef like I initially wanted. I promise you now, Frank, I will make you a delicious vegetarian meal each night I spend here." I doubt that he actually will, but I give him a bright smile and tell him I'll hold him onto that.
Once the lasagne is out of the oven, we sit on the couch and flick through the TV channels. I find that Iron Man is on and Gerard gives an indecisive nod of approval, but halfway through, when the meals are long finished, Gerard gets emotional. I ask him what's wrong, but he quickly shrugs it off like nothing and excuses himself to go to the bathroom.
Once he comes out again, I cautiously ask him for our plans this weekend: to maybe meet his friends. He shrugs and agrees.
"My friends are Mikey and Brad. I can't introduce you to Mikey right now, as he's my brother and I'm not yet allowed back on the premises, but we can go see Brad now?" He asks me. Excitedly, I jump up.
"Okay, let's go!" and I immediately slip into my shoes and shrug on my jacket, holding his out to him.
Gerard drags me through all kinds of dark, scary alleys until we reach big, metal gates. I am not liking where we are and I kind of hope we're here to see a grave and not some creepy kid who likes to randomly hang out at cemeteries. Gerard pushes open one of the gates and lets me walk through it. He walks in, too and closes the gate behind him. I follow him until he stops and sits down on the middle of the path, facing a gravestone. He sits in lotus position, props his elbow up on his knee and lays his face in it. He dreamily stares at the inscription.
"Brad Miller.
03-27-1990
04-03-2010"
"H-He killed himself, shortly before my 20th birthday... I sometimes can still vividly remember what he looked like shortly after he did." Gerard suddenly chokes out. Once he's calmed down I start talking.
"Hey Brad. It's very nice to meet one of Gerard's friends! I'm sure you guys were pretty close and I'd like to thank you for keeping him safe for as long as you could. It's sad I can't meet you in person, but I still owe you one. Big time." Gerard looks up and gives me a sad smile, dried tears on his cheek and a strand of hair plastered to it as well. I can tell from the look in his eyes he's searching for something to say, but instead I give him a hug. When we part, I give him a kiss on his forehead and offer a hand to help him up. I want to get him out of here before he gets emotional again. He decline and says he wants to stay and sit in silence for at least ten more minutes. I sit down beside him and watch his every move, read all his body language. But he seemed to be cool under it all.
The walk home was quiet and as I unlock the door and open it to let us in, Gerard storms past me, and hurls himself onto the bed. I'm guessing he wants some time alone, so I decide to make us some coffee instead. After a while I sit down on the bed, put his full cup on the bedside table and stroke his hair. He lets out a muffled sob at the touch.
"Shh," I shush him. "Don't cry. Don't cry, Gerard. Please, calm down. What's wrong, Gee? Tell me." I say the nickname before I even know it and kiss his temple. I whisper "don't cry" in his ear and kiss his temple again. He slightly turns his head and calms down a little. I kiss his eyelid and tell him not to cry again. That's when he fully turns over and snuggles into my side, holding my shirt in his fists, while his knuckles are turning white. His rapid breathing starts to slow down and once it's fully slowed down, he seems to have fallen asleep. I snuggle my head in top of his and fall asleep, too.
I'm awoken from my nap with a hoarsely voice saying "I deserve to have this friend, I deserve to have this friend" He seems to mumble to himself. "I didn't when I was 19 but I do now" Slightly alarmed, I try to pull him closer to me, but he's not in my arms anymore. I open my eyes and see him looking at me. I yawn and stretch my arms above my head. I sit up too and put my arm lazily around his shoulder. "How was your nap?"
"Amazing," he smiles shyly. I smile back and plant a kiss on his cheek. He blushes and asks me "did you hear what I was mumbling?"
I don't want to embarrass him and maybe cause him to run off so I say "No, was it important?" he shakes his head and looks down at his hands. I notice the cup that I had sat on the table was now empty. I furrow my brows and turn my head towards him. "I had a sore throat when I woke up" he explains.
"Wasn't it cold already?" I ask him, amused confusion probably clear on my face.
"Yeah," he laughs a little and fiddles with his fingers in his lap.
"Hey, Gerard?" He looks up.
"Yes?" And I lean in to give him a small kiss on his lips. They are soft, yet chapped. He turns red as I look him in the eyes and tell him "you look absolutely amazing tonight" and I jump out of the bed, grab the mug and walk to the sink. "I don't remember pulling the covers over me?" I say as Gerard follows me like a puppy. I put the mugs in the sink and fill two glasses with water. I glance over to the clock. It's 2am.
"No," he says. "But you looked kind of cold... You'd been asleep for about half an hour longer than me." I look at him with big eyes.
"You could've just woken me up! I wouldn't have mind. Oh god, you were probably bored to death. No wonder you drank the cold coffee." He laughs.
"No, I told you I had a sore throat. And I didn't mind it. You are quite animated when you sleep." He laughs awkwardly as he drops himself onto the couch, his shins on the one armrest and his chin, propped up on his elbows, on the other, flat on his stomach.
"You're pretty short, you know?" He suddenly says, very plainly. I walk over to him, glasses in hand, and sit on his back, causing him to groan.
"I'm not short," I state. "I'm fun-sized."
"You sure are a fun person" he laughs in reply.
"Why, thank you, mister Way. To what to I owe this sudden and unexpected compliment?" I say, trying to sound formal.
"For being such a great friend to me at moments I need you, even though I just know you for a day or two." He chuckles. "Now, can you please go off of my back?" I stand up and let him sit up. I shove a glass of water in his hands and take a seat with my back against an armrest. As I slowly drink my own. Gerard, on the other hand, immediately downs it like it's air. I look at the scene, amused.
"Are you sure the coffee quenched your thirst like you said it did?" I ask him
"Nah, I just drink a lot, both coffee and water." He says with a shy smile.
"What's with all the sudden shy smiles? You don't have to be shy or embarrassed with me around." I state.
"I guess it just makes me embarrassed that you've seen me like that..." He lies. I chuckle.
"You liar"
"I'm not lying!"
"Yes you are. You're a big, big liar." I say, sounding like a toddler. He gasps and puts his glass on the table and I follow his action. I crossed my arms satisfied and looked at his surprised expression.
"Oh mister. You've gone too far this time. I guess I'd have to punish you for this, now." Gerard says. I'm confused by what he would mean with "punishing" but before I could ask him, he pushes me back on the couch, straddles my hips and stars to tickling my sides. I make sporadic moves with my arms and legs in attempted to throw him off, holding back my laughter, but that soon failed and burst out in a laughing fit so hard, hurts my throat.
"Surrender?" Gerard asks me with a cheeky grin.
"Never!" I shout, tears running down my face of laughing.
"Okay, but this is tiring me, so I'm stopping." I fake-pout as he stops tickling me and I try to sit up, but I can't seen he's still straddling my hips. He leans forward, after a while and starts to tickle me again, but as soon as he's close to me, I pull him down, with my hands on the back of his neck. I press his lips against mine and, to my biggest surprise, he kisses me back. We move our lips in sync for a while. Gerard's hands, still resting on my sides, move upwards under my shirt as I deepen the kiss by asking for entrance by licking his bottom lip. He gains me access and out tongues move around each other. My hand go from the back of neck, to his head and I fist his hair, earning a grown from him. Suddenly, we break apart.
"Frank- I-" Gerard starts. I cut him off.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." I mumble in reply.
"No, no, I don't mind. Absolutely not. But it's just that, erm, I've never done any of this before and, erm, I kind of want to draw you really badly." I looked at him confused. What does he mean? Like comic drawing or as a portrait? And why does he think of that during this heated kiss?
"Why would you want to draw me?"
"Because you look so perfect right now." I blush at his comment, let go of his hair and sit up straight.
"Draw me like one of your French men." I say teasingly.
"Maybe later" he shrugs, trying to sound nonchalant. I stand up and close the curtains of the apartment.
"Wouldn't want anyone to enjoy the view of us, huh?" I say, winking at Gerard. He giggles and pulls me in for a hug as I settle myself on the couch again.
"So," I say. "When would you like to draw me?"
"Right now." he says. He runs around the small studio, getting the equipment he needs to draw from his suitcase. Once he has everything he settles himself on the couch, knees pulled up and a book with a white piece of paper on top of it on his knees. He holds a pencil in his hand and a eraser in the other. He glances over at me and puts the equipment next to him on the couch. He places himself on my lap as he kisses me roughly. I let out a moan and he pulls back with a satisfied grin. "I knew I'd be able to turn you on," he hoarsely whispers in my ear. "Now, pull off your shirt" I do as I'm asked and pull it off, revealing my tattooed chest and arms. He sits back down next to his equipment and picks them up. Once he's drawing me, very concentrated with his tongue slightly sticking cutely through his lips, I notice how he's putting me on the paper. Out of breath, messy hair and no shirt. I reach out my neck to take a glance at the drawing and see he's only drawing the upper half of my body. I sit back down and watch him draw me.