See The Rust Through Your Playground Eyes

I tightened my grip on Frankie's hips, then sliding my hands up to his waist and wrapping my arms around him. He shifted in his sleep slightly, but didn't wake up. He had fallen asleep a few minutes ago and I was more than happy to serve as his pillow. I moved my hand up to his head and ran my fingers through his silky chocolate hair.

What if I was wrong and he doesn't really want to be with me? What if he doesn't know what he wants? If he doesn't understand what 'together' means?

I can't just assume he and I are on the same page. What if all he wanted was a friend and I was just assuming he wanted a relationship.

But he did say 'boyfriend' right? So that kind of clears it up, right? I mean, he knows what a boyfriend is. And he understands what 'love' is, right? I felt a pang of hurt, he knows what love is, but probably doesn't love me. I looked down at his sleeping form, he looked so sweet when he slept. Big eyes finally resting. At least he didn't hate me, right? That's a good sign.
What if I hurt him, though? I would never forgive myself. He trusts me enough to let me get so close, I would hate myself if I hurt him.

Frankie stirred in his sleep and rolled over, falling off me and curling up next to me on the pillows. I sat up on the edge of the bed and sighed.

Maybe it won't all go to hell. I mean, that's a possibility, right? There's a remote possibility that Frankie knows exactly what's going on and that he wants it, that Linda won't find out until he's old enough and that I won't mess things up before that. But that's a long shot, a one in a million chance. It's much more probable for Linda to find out, Frankie to not really want me and for me to step over the line with Frankie and end up making him hate me. It's impossible for everything to turn out perfect.

But, maybe if we are careful, we can make things work. I can start by being more careful with Frankie. I don't know if he's perfectly comfortable with all of this. Like, kissing less and not being so touchy. I would have to be more discrete around Linda.

I guess that would work, right? Of course we can do this, I just have to be very careful.
But what if that doesn't work? Theres always the chance something goes wrong and that would be the end of us. If Linda finds out, I'll go to jail. If Frankie doesn't want me any more, I'll be alone.

I go up and looked over at Frankie.

He's so beautiful. So, so beautiful. And graceful. And just perfect. I'm such a perv. I like little boys, like Frankie. I'm sick, this is sick. It's wrong and twisted and just, bad. I can't be with Frankie. He's too ill to understand, too young for me and too beautiful to want me.

He rolled over so he was face up and stretched, I thought he would wake up, but he didn't. When he stretched his shirt rode up a bit so there was a strip of his skin showing. Smooth perfectly tanned skin. His tummy was perfectly flat, except the bumbs of his hip bones.

I walked closer and kneeled on the bed next to him. I sat back and bit my lip. He's gorgeous. I reached over, almost touching the perfect skin of his stomach. I'm a perv, this is wrong. I placed one finger on the warm skin, then another. He didn't even stir. Then I slowly dragged my fingers up to his hip bone. I shouldn't be doing this, it's wrong and low. Low like the low cut of his tight jeans. I shouldn't be noticing things like that. But it's kind of hard to not notice it, when it's right there. I lied my hand flat on his hip. He had such soft, warm skin.

He really shouldn't wear such revealing clothes. I hooked my finer on the loop of his jeans. Pants like these show so much, marking all of his curves. And they're so low cut. I tugged on them softly, successfully pulling them down just the tiniest bit and showing a little more of his skin and the waistband of his boxers.

No, I should not be doing this. Such a perv, so sick. Shouldn't let myself get so close, I have to be careful. This is not careful.

Frankie stirred, I quickly pulled away and sat at the sofa. Sighing and putting my head in my hands.

This is not me. I don't do this. I don't have these problems. I don't love little boys. I don't want someone I know I can't have.

This; the guy that fell in love with a much-too-young-mentally-ill-angel, is not me, Gerard Way; who doesn't take shit from anyone, who has whatever and whoever he wants.
Why did I have to fall for a little boy? I fell fast and hard for someone that is so out of reach. I, Gerard Way, am blindly in love with an under-age boy that probably doesn't realize just how much he has fucked with my head.

This is so wrong on so many diferent levels. I shouldn't be craving to touch and feel and kiss and have a little boy.

Though that would be lovely, right? To have Frankie, all for myself. Like in that dream.
I bit my lip, that would be splendid. It would be so incredibly perfect, to have my sweet inoccent Frankie moaning and groaning and wanting more. And he would scratch my back, and pull my hair, he seems to like pulling. And he would bite my lip, like when we kissed. And he must be a virgin, I would be the first to ever see all of him, to have him, to hear him beg for more. If those half gasps he makes when we kiss are sexy, I can only imagining how big of a turn on Frankie's moans must be.

I looked down at my lap and fiddled with the hem of my shirt, nothing good would come out of eye-raping Frankie. And nothing good is coming out of imagining all of these things. All I do is frustrate myself even more. I have to stop thinking like that, Frankie is not like any other person I've been with, I can't and won't treat him like that. I love him. If I let my want for him win, I would hurt him.

I looked up at him, he had moved more and his arms were now streched high over his head, shirt riding all the way up to his belly button and showing even more perfect skin. Why does he have to be so perfect?

'Being careful' would be easier is he were less perfect. If his skin weren't so soft, if his hair wasn't so silky, if his eyes weren't so enchanting, if his lips weren't so tempting.
I closed my eyes and sighed, I must be going crazy.

Yes, that's it. I'm crazy. That's the only logical explanation for my sudden for someone. I've never needed to see or touch or kiss someone and I'm pretty sure I swore to myself I would never be one of those stupid guys that would do anything, give everything for someone. But right now I would give and do everything and anything for Frankie. If he asked me for anything, anything at all, I would give it to him. I would do just about anything to see him smile. And if I could ask for anything right now, I would ask for Frankie.

I want him, bad. And it's wrong and I know it and art of me doesn't care. There's a small part of me that wants to pin him to the bed and just take him. Then there's the sane part of me that reminds me that doing that would be terribly stupid, risky and just not right. My thoughts where interrupted by Linda walking in to the room again.

"Oh. H-hi, Gerard." she stopped walking and just kind of stood there, looking from me to Frankie. She was holding a paper bag in her hands.

"He fell asleep a few minutes ago." I muttered, realizing just how bad this looked. A much older guy she already doesn't like was alone with her sleeping son.

"Oh. I just brought his medicine." she whispered.

"Wasn't he supposed to take that at three?" I asked.

"These are new meds. I had them changed, these are stronger."

"Why would he need stronger meds?" I asked, glaring at her.

"B-because he was...having nightmares."

Bullshit. The bitch just wants to have Frankie drugged up.

"When he wakes up, tell him to three of these," she took out a blue bottle, "and two of these." she took out a plain white bottle.

I didn't say anything, just glared at her as she left the bag on the bedside table and left. She didn't even half-glance at Frankie.

Why would she change his meds? Nightamres, really? If he were having nightmares he would tell me. The only reason for the medicine upgrade would be that Linda wants to zombifie Frankie. That's it, really. She wants him to be too drugged up to do anything other than obey her.

Frankie stirred and finally woke up, "Gee-rawrd?" he mumbled as he pulled down his shirt.

I walked over to the bed and stood there watching him rub his eyes, "Sleep well?"

He sat up, his hair was sticking up at odd angles but he still looked as beautiful as ever. I sat next to him and ran my fingers through his long hair, succesfully straightening it out. He smiled and blushed a bit.

"Frankie, you have to take these pills, okay?" I mumbled, pulling out the bottles.

"...o-okay." I gave him the pills and handed him a glass of water from the nightstand.

He took them and then started to rant about what cookies tasted better. I listened intently with a shit eating grin on my face, he's just so adorable.

Then he just randomly leaned kissed me. I kissed back, closing my eyes and holding him as close to me as posible. I must be going crazy, but that's okay. If I get to be with Frankie then crazy's okay.

I felt Frankie bite my lips softly, again. Yes, crazy's just perfect.

Notes

You guys aren't mad, YAY!!! Okay, so here have another chapter because you guys are awesome and yeah. THANKS FOR NOT HATING ME!

Oh, and Comment, Rate and Subscribe? Cuz' that would make me SO very happy!

BTW, omfg chapter 20! That's a lot *does happy dance* carry on