Wanna Be Somebodies

GERARD’S P.O.V.
I can only wonder how well Frank’s wrestling practice is going what with Matt being there and all. Hopefully he can keep his cool; Frank’s been known to be easily irritated, and I’d hate to see his cover blown due to his temper. Not only would Matt be aware that Frank knows he did it, but he would know that I must’ve told, meaning bad news for all parties involved.
Not wanting to roam the halls in search of him, I shoot him a text message asking when he’ll be done. He doesn’t answer, typical. I dismiss that he must be busy with something; after all, he Is at practice. I can only hope that he’s not in harm’s way as I wait for that response.
My text finally comes some forty minutes later; he texts me: on my way to ur dorm now
A knock sounds not much longer so I rise, unlocking series after series of recently utilized locks to budge open the door.
Standing there is not Frank, at least, not my Frank. All hints of playfulness and joy are gone in his eyes; he just looks worn and sad. I sling an arm over each of his shoulders, pulling him over the threshold and closing the door with an outstretched foot. “Was practice okay?”
Frank shrugs, not meeting my eye. It’s obvious he’s lying, from the tensing of his shoulders to the avoidance of an answer to the complete annihilation of eye contact. “Spit it out.”
“Those guys are pricks,” Frank mutters. He exhales sharply, shaking his head slightly. “I’m going to quit; I have to. I can’t stand it.”
“What’d they do?” I demand.
“Matt was being an asshole, as usual. But that’s not so much what bothers me,” Frank confesses. He starts to break down slightly, confessing, “All the other guys just egg him on and laugh and don’t give a shit! They’re almost worse than him! Only one fucker has stood up for me and he got his face bashed in after practice for it!”
Luke? My eyes quadruple in size. “Is that why you were late?”
“Those guys are such terrible people, Gerard,” Frank whimpers. “I can’t do it anymore.”
“You love wrestling,” I point out.
“Yeah, but I love you more. And I care about you, and Luke, my friends, and myself more than anything else. I have to.” Frank pushes past me and sits on my bed, admitting sadly, “I will miss it, though.”
I sit next to him, allowing him to rest his head on my shoulder. “Is Luke okay?”
“He’s not too bad; they just got a couple good swings on him,” Frank confides. “I’m trying to talk him into quitting but he’s pretty set on finishing the season.”
“This is so fucking ridiculous,” I growl.
“Yeah,” Frank agrees. There’s a pause, a very brief moment of silence and lingering thoughts. Frank breaks off the mood by dragging a hand towards the lap of my pants; his nails searching and prying.
“Get off,” I mumble, mostly out of annoyance.
Frank withdraws his hand as though I had burned him. “What?”
“Stop,” I snarl, burying my head into my hands. It’s not long after I do so that I feel a grasping hand over my jaw, followed by a soft kiss on my neck. “Frank; I’m not in the mood.”
He doesn’t stop, just keeps kissing my neck all slow and slithering like. Again his hand snakes for my fly, and I snap, shoving him off. “FUCK OFF.”
I push him harder than I thought I did; he reels way back and bangs his head pretty hard on the wall behind him. He looks at me, those amber eyes of his all sappy and hurt. He looks like he’s about to cry, and that makes me want to cry, and so off I go, dismissing, “I have to go to the bathroom.”
Wiping my eyes on my way there, I head to the bathroom, which, for once, is empty.
At least, I think it is at first. Not a moment after I start to relieve myself, I hear a footstep from inside a stall.
I feel myself start to panic, but I try to reason that it could be anyone at all; there’s no reason for it to be Matt Ellis banging around in this bathroom.
And that’s just why it has to be him; right? He’s standing there with the stall door open to meet my eyes. He is so smug.
Frantically finishing up, I rush to zip up my pants, which I manage to by the time he gets over there. Grabbing me by the back of my neck, he pins my head to the wall, growling lowly in my ear, “Tell your boyfriend and he’s going to get very hurt.”
Tears start falling down my face. Shit, why can’t I control myself? He sees this and almost seems to chuckle under his breath. Reaching a massive hand around my waist, he fondles the front of my jeans, fumbling with the zipper. “I heard you’re big, Gerard. Frank told me.”
“No, he didn’t,” I tell softly.
He reaches a hand in the front of my jeans, then groping blindly for the opening in my underwear. He says in a singsong voice, “Found it!”
I duck my head further into the wall; it’s all I can do. “Please, stop. Let me go.”
Actually withdrawing his hand, I give a sigh of relief. That is, until his opposite one comes striking across my backside so hard I about scream. “Ass feeling sore?”
He’s gone after that, leaving me there to stand numbly. Part of me feels as though it hasn’t happened, and the rest wants to forget it ever did. I trudge back to my dorm to see that Frank is no longer there; he left and went to his own.
It’s all for the best. I’ll try to smooth things out with him in the morning; I don’t have the energy for it now. Besides, Frank is probably super pissed; he doesn’t want to see me. Lying in bed like some kind of festering cancer, I try to come up with ways to apologize.

Notes

Thanks so much for reading!! Please comment, rate, and subscribe!

Tumblr: teenbrendon Twitter: jediurie