His fingers dance across my skin as the sun sets behind the horizon and the chill of the cold rises to an all time high. The snow falls incessantly on our bundled bodies. His fingers lock with mine as we walk down the street, people passing us, not even paying us any attention. Here, in New York, he's not my teacher and I'm not his student. Nobody would know just from looking at us. We're just two people who have their fingers interlocked and the only thoughts on their mind being about the cold and their destination. Maybe nobody could even sense that. But from the way people push past us, eye contact not even being made, apologies not even being said, I don't think anyone notices us. We're in public but we also don't matter to anyone. The lights from the stores illuminating the snow covered sidewalk as our feet crunch against the ground. Last minute shoppers racing from store to store, their arms full with presents. Traffic is far more obnoxious than the people with all the taxis honking and cutting in front of others. It's blissful insanity. You can get lost in the noise.
His hand starts gripping my hand tighter, pulling me back to the moment we're living. We're passing by a liquor store and his heart rate has intensified and he's started walking faster. He's pulling me ahead as he starts jogging away from the store. We get across the street and he looks almost... Afraid, as though the store was chasing him. In a way, it probably was. I don't press him for a reason, as I deduct well enough why. I don't talk at all. We continue walking as though nothing happened, his heart rate slows and his grip loosens. He takes a deep breath and we continue down the street back to the hotel room. We pass by more stores and skyscrapers in silence. As much silence as is allowed when roaming the streets of a busy town.
The hotel seems like paradise from the noise when we open the doors to dozens of people arguing over rooms for the holidays and the clerks retaliating with an explanation that they're fully booked. We dance up to our room, our fingers still intertwined and our mouths still shut. He presses the button and we ascend to the 13th floor. The doors open and we walk towards our room. The hall is dimly lit and empty. Not a sign of life to be seen. Gerard disconnects our hands to find the key card deep inside of his tattered pockets. He unlocks and opens the door, letting me in first and closing it after he enters. I kick off my boots and throw my jacket onto the little desk near the door. I sit down on the couch with a loud sigh. Finally; we're back. Being in public is absolutely exhausting. Gerard sits down beside me, exhaustion written all over his face. I wrap my arm around him and he shows his vulnerability by sinking into me. He covers his face with his hands and I can tell he's fighting back tears. I run my fingers through his hair. It's growing back and his roots are longer than the white. His body starts to shake and I just hold him while he cries. It doesn't take him long to give into the sobs and he can no longer muffle it. He stops crying and heads to bed. I follow behind him, turning off the lights and making sure the door is locked. When I get into the bedroom, he's laying in bed, curled up into a ball.
"It's past midnight so merry Christmas, I guess," I say, climbing into bed with him.
"When you wake up tomorrow, you're going to have one of the best Christmases ever. I promise," Gerard says, snuggling his face into the curve of my neck and leaving a soft kiss. He turns over and pulls the sheets over himself. I close my eyes but sleep evades me as my thoughts run wild. What could he have gotten me? Is there anything I can do or get for him? No, I don't think so.
-
I wake up to the smell of coffee and the sun seeping through the blinds. I squint and rub my eyes as I sit up. I swing my legs over the bed and inch forward until my feet can touch the ground. I step on something soft and small as I stand up. I immediately lift my foot to reveal a rose petal. I blink a couple of times before seeing the trail of rose petals on the ground. I follow the soft red petals until I'm in the hall of the hotel. I see the trail continue into an adjacent room before I go back into mine and pour myself some coffee. I take a cup with me as I continue following the path. I knock on the door before I notice the note on the door. I wait a couple seconds and there doesn't seem to be anybody on the other side. There's no sign of movement, no sound. I wait a little longer before I check to see if it's locked. I turn the handle and the door opens. I take a step inside the room and I gasp. The room is fully decorated with a tree and ornaments. There is fake snow on the ground and there are nutcrackers on the floor. Around the tree are a few gifts. I walk over to the tree and look at the ornaments. Some of them look homemade and others store bought. I continue looking at the ornaments before realizing I recognize a few of them because some of them I made in school when I was a kid. I look down at the gifts and they're all addressed to me from Gerard. On the windows over looking the town are drawn on snowflakes and a little quote that says "Every Snowflake's different just like you." Everything is so beautiful.
"So do you want to open your gifts before or after?" The voice breaks my concentration and I turn around.
Leaning against the wall, completely shirtless, is Gerard.
"Before or after what?" I ask playfully, a smirk present on my face. He walks up to me and tilts my chin up to kiss me.
"My gift," he replies, his voice raspy and quiet. His fingers dance through my hair before resting on my cheek. His thumb rubbing my cheekbone as his lips meet with mine, leaving behind soft and tender kisses. He pulls back and reaches for my hand.
"It's up to you," he says.
"Well I'm kinda really curious as to what mine are..." I whisper, my eyes trained on the floor as a little pang of guilt fills my heart.
"Awesome. Start with that one," he instructs, pointing to the big rectangular box leaning against the window. I go over to it and try to lift it. I struggle with it because it's heavy but I succeed in moving it. I start unwrapping it, as awkward as this is, with him watching my every move. He crosses his legs and sits back on the couch. I open the unmarked box to reveal a white guitar. I look up at Gerard and see a smile sitting on his face. I go over to him and hug him.
"Thanks so much," I whisper in his ear before kissing his cheek.
"No problem. Now go open the other two," he tells me. I go over and pick up two smaller and lighter presents and begin opening them. The first one I open is a pile shiny letters from A to Z.
"It's for you to decorate your guitar," Gerard informs me. I nod and open the last gift. It's a sketchbook. I flip through the book and see a bunch of different drawings of me.
"I thought it was selfish of me to keep them for myself and you just have such a perfect bone structure," Gerard smiles. I walk over and straddle him.
"Thank you so much," I say, setting the sketch book down beside me.
"Now it's your turn," I whisper, kissing him. He lifts my shirt off and flings it to the floor.
"Merry Christmas," he says.
"Merry Christmas to you too."
I sink to my knees between his legs and pull him out of his pants. I take him in my mouth and he leans back, his mouth open and his eyes closed. I run my tongue up his shaft and he moans. His fingers knot in my hair and tug slightly. He bucks his hips, pushing himself deeper into my throat, testing my gag reflex. My hand rests on his thigh, massaging circles into his skin. He pulls sharply on my hair, forcing my head back. I stand up and so does he. His lips meet mine and he pushes towards me a little too fast, I fall backwards, under the tree and he falls on top of me.
"Oops," he smirks, pulling my pants off. He runs his fingers over my crotch, teasing me. I tilt my head back in response and he wriggles me out of my boxers. He pushes my thighs apart and pushes into me. I moan and arch my back. He runs his hands up my side as he moves in and out of me. He groans in response, tilting his head up and swearing. His mouth falls open and his eyes screw closed. He leans closer to me and grunts. Sweat drips from his forehead onto my chest and I moan. I close my eyes and bite my lip. His grip on my hip gets tighter, his fingers digging in.
"Frank!" He moans, his voice raspy as he comes. He pulls out of me and wraps his hand around my dick. He slowly starts stroking me before speeding up. It doesn't take me long before I find my release and come in his hand. He wipes it off on wrapping paper. He lays down beside me, panting.
"I love you," I whisper, snuggling my face in his chest.
"I love you too."
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