Pinned

Frank calls Gerard at 9:00 that night. Gerard, wondering if something is wrong, twists a strand of hair between his fingers as he answers. “Frank?”
“Gerard, sorry, I can’t come over tomorrow,” Frank apologizes.”
“It’s okay. Why not?” Gerard asks, trying not to sound offended or intrusive by any means.
“My mom. Ray called to warn me about a quiz tomorrow, but my mom picked up the phone. Ray said that she asked why he was calling, and Ray said, “Well, Frank missed school today, Mrs. Iero.” So then my mom goes, “Thank you for calling, Ray. I’ll tell Frank.” So she goes upstairs, pounds on my door and is all; Frank clears his throat and does his best impression of his mother, “Frank Anthony Iero Jr., you get your little butt over here RIGHT now!”
“So I go over. And I’m like, “Mom, what’s up?” So she just goes on a rant like, “Don’t you care about your education at all?” and, “Where’d you go, you little shit?” and finally, “You best be prepared for that quiz tomorrow; if you get lower than a C, you’re grounded.”
“I figure out that she found out about me skipping school. I try to appeal to her, making up the bullshittiest thing I could think of. “I’m sorry, Mom. I really didn’t want to skip, but….. the bullying has just gotten so bad from this kid. I just wanted to miss today because he said he’d beat me up.””
“How’d she react?” Gerard questions.
Frank chuckles and says, “You tell that boy that if he lays a finger on my Frankie I will personally rip his lungs out.”
Gerard laughs along, deciding, “I like your mom, Frank.”
“Yeah, me too,” Frank agrees.
“So…. Good luck at school tomorrow,” Gerard wishes.
“Good luck with suspension,” Frank murmurs.
Gerard giggles, and says softly, “Bye.”
“Goodbye,” Frank replies. He’s the first to hang up.
Gerard goes to bed that night, his heart fluttering with worry for his boyfriend. Pete’s going to be at school tomorrow. And Frank. And not Gerard. It’s just an accident/homicide waiting to happen.
Frank goes to school the next day, completely aware that Pete is likely to pounce on him at any moment. He does his best to avoid empty hallways and bathrooms, and luckily, he doesn’t have P.E. today, because Pete could easily beat on him in the locker room. It’s not that Frank can’t take Pete, it’s just the fact that he doesn’t want to be caught off guard.
Even though he promised himself to avoid the restrooms, by lunchtime, he feels like he’s about to explode. He rushes to the bathroom, peeking inside to realize that it’s empty.
He knows he probably shouldn’t, but he has to go so bad that he feels like if he doesn’t go into this one now he’ll pee himself. So he goes in, trying to shut the door quietly.
He rushes to the urinal, his hands fumbling to unzip himself. He goes as quickly as he can, his eyes flashing from the wall to the door. He’s finishing up, zipping his pants back up and flushing, when he hears a creak of the door. He sees one Van sneaker toe its way into the bathroom, which he almost immediately recognizes as Pete’s.
He hurries to a stall, closing it softly and locking it. He sits on the seat, tucking his legs up under him so Pete may suspect there’s no one in there and leave.
He hears Pete lock them in the bathroom, hears his sneakers thud against the floor. He stops right in front of Frank’s stall, banging on the door. “Come out, faggot. I saw you go in here.”
Frank bites his thumb to muffle his breathing.
Pete chortles, but the laughing stops abruptly as he slams his fist once more against the stall door. “Don’t think you can hide in there forever, you little freak!”
After about a minute of waiting, Pete’s Vans sneaker tapping impatiently against the ground, Frank decides to speak up. He clears his throat before warning,
“Stay away from me, Peter. You and I both know I can take you.”
Pete chuckles, “Oh, I beg to differ, my little idiot. You’ve been done with wrestling for…. Oh… about two to three weeks? You’ve been out of the weight room. Don’t you think I can’t tell. I, however, have been lifting every day and honestly, Frank….” Pete pauses to crack one of his body parts, probably his neck…. “I could kick your ass if I really wanted to.”
Frank keeps his mouth shut after that. Five minutes pass, and Frank realizes that Pete’s not about to leave.
“You can’t hide in there, forever, Frank,” Pete calls, pounding on the stall door.
After another five minutes, Frank decides to come out. He unlocks the stall door with shaking hands, allowing it to swing open. His heart thumps in his chest as he holds his hands up in a sign of surrender.
Pete easily takes Frank to the ground, lying on top of him. Frank braces himself for a punch, but gets something entirely different instead.
Pete forcefully kisses Frank, slipping his tongue inside the smaller boy’s mouth. Frank struggles beneath Pete, which just prompts Pete to kiss him harder, his filthy tongue dancing in Frank’s mouth.
Frank manages to break the kiss apart, and stutters,
“I- I don’t want to kiss you, Pete.”
“You think I give a fuck?” Pete asks, again crashing his lips against Frank’s.
Frank desperately tries to get out from beneath Pete, but it’s no use; the boy is bigger than him, and Frank is out of shape.
Pete’s cold hand slides down Frank’s stomach, blindly pawing at Frank’s jeans. Pete’s hand locates Frank’s crotch, and he cups his dick through his jeans, giving it a small squeeze.
Frank gasps into Pete’s mouth, and that sick son of a bitch Pete smirks at Frank’s reaction.
Pete unzips Frank’s pants, slipping his hand inside. Frank squirms, trying to get Pete’s hand out of there, but his efforts are fruitless. Pete brings his hand down the front of Frank’s underwear, locating his dick.
Pete stops kissing him, and Frank takes the opportunity to cry out,
“Help!” his voice hoarse.
Frank knees Pete in the crotch and stands, kicking Pete in the ribs a few times, until Frank’s sure that Pete can’t advance on him again. He zips his pants and leaves, realizing that tears are dried onto his face.
He wipes his mouth, battery acid tingling on his lips. He wipes it again, and continues to do so throughout the day until they’re numb.

Notes

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