Nobodies

We don’t fall asleep this time; instead Frank takes his laptop, starting it up as he asks,
“Want to watch a movie?”
“Sure. What did you have in mind?” I reply.
“I actually have this documentary called ‘Race To Nowhere’, and it’s really good. It’s about the flaws in our education system in America that leaves kids under a lot of unhealthy pressure,” Frank rambles.
I kiss him on the tip of his nose, telling, “You’re fucking adorable.”
As Frank starts the movie, I snuggle up closer to him, splaying a hand over his tiny waist. He places a hand on my stomach, slowly dragging it up towards my ribcage. It’s just then that I remember about my scars.
“What the…” Frank mumbles. He tosses off the covers, to see the cuts on my stomach. He gasps, holding one hand to his mouth and clutching the other to his chest. “What happened?!”
I defensively cover the cuts, placing both of my hands completely over them.
“I uh….” I trail off, unable to come up with a good lie. I have that caught up feeling in my chest and the building in the back of my throat that tells me that I’m about to cry. Like, really fucking soon. Tears run down my face as I confess, “I…. I happened.”
Frank pulls me into his arms, kissing the top of my head as he comforts, “Don’t cry, babe. Just tell me what you mean.”
“I…. I…..” I sob. I can’t seem to fully develop words, let alone sentences. “I… I did this to myself. I’m sorry; don’t hate me.”
Frank strings a hand in my hair, pulling me towards him so that his chin is resting atop of my head. “H-hate you? Why would I do that?”
I shrug, allowing my shoulders to drop clumsily and carelessly.
“Honey, I would never hate you,” Frank assures, repeatedly planting kisses onto the top of my head as he takes one of my hands. “Just…. Let me see them; it’s okay.”
I slowly remove one hand, and then the other. Frank’s eyes well up with more tears as he examines the cuts; and he’s the type of person to not wipe them away, now that he really knows me, he’s not afraid to cry in front of me. “Gerard th-those don’t look good. They’re really deep.”
“It’s fine; I’ve had worse,” I assure.
Frank shakes his head, melancholy glistening in his hazel eyes. “I’m so sorry. I…. I made you do this… didn’t I?”
“No! It’s not your fault, really!” I insist. “It’s your dad’s, honestly.”
Frank slides away, curling his knees up to his chest and burying his head. “I could’ve- I didn’t have to take all of that shit and just make more.”
“What do you mean?” I question. I try to pull one of Frank’s arms, stroking his wrist with my thumb, but he snaps it back over to himself.
“Some kids…. good kids, when they’re abused, it inspires them. But bad kids… kids like me,” Frank weeps. “It just makes them turn into giant assholes who get off on other people’s misery!”
“It doesn’t make you a bad person,” I coax. I take one of Frank’s hands, and he actually lets me. I intertwine my fingers with his, giving a small squeeze. “It really isn’t your fault, Frankie. And, there’s no point over beating yourself up over everything we’ve been through because… I already forgave you.”
“You shouldn’t have,” Frank cries.
“Frank, I have no idea what being abused would do to me. I can definitely see why anyone would be angry, really.”
“That wasn’t the only reason why I bullied you,” Frank admits.
“What was it then?” I ask him.
“Sure I was angry,” Frank informs. “But…. I was just falling in love with you. I couldn’t believe that I was gay. But you were the only person I liked. So, I… I figured that if….” Frank lowers his voice as he continues, “If I made you feel like shit, everyday… eventually you’d leave. You’d get out of this town, and you wouldn’t look back. And then I’d be able to get on with my life.”
“But… you wouldn’t give in. And, it made me so mad. So I’d hit you harder. Bully you more often. Embarrass you in front of any friends you managed to make.”
“At the same time, I… I really admired you for it. You took your beatings like a man, all the abuse, even though you’d done no wrong. You had your name dragged through the mud, your reputation ruined, your social life practically demolished. It was amazing. I couldn’t picture myself ever doing that, ever having that much fucking bravery, and… and honor and shit. And you never once spoke bad of me.”
“Who does that sound like?” I retort.
Frank is silent.
“You did all of that stuff too, Frank. Only, your attacker has no excuses. He’s a piece of shit that doesn’t deserve to have a son. A fucked up creep that tortures his son to the point that he’s afraid to tell anyone, because he thinks that he’ll get punished physically. You’re, you’re just as good in my eyes as I am in yours,” I explain.
Frank falls out of his position, leaning back on the bed post. He grins at me, and then slides off his blue briefs, revealing his hard dick, flushed and firm about two inches away from my own crotch. At the sight of it, I instantly get an erection, one that’s almost painfully hard. Frank reaches across the bed, slipping his thumb inside the waistband of my green American Apparel boxer briefs. He pulls them slowly down my legs, his knuckles tickling my calves. I step out of them, and he tosses them out of the way. He brings a hand up the inside of my thigh, pressing his thumb into the overly sensitive skin. He places his other hand on my ribcage, tracing the hints of bone. Frank smiles, and asks me,
“Do you think we’re ready to have sex?”
I bite my lip, and give the obvious fucking answer. “Hell yes.”
Frank laughs, kissing my nipple and boasting, “That’s my boy.”

Notes

Yeah I know another cliff hanger. Sorry, not sorry.
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