Drawn to you

I don’t go out with Elliott and Anthony on Friday night, and Gerard doesn’t go out to ‘work’ either. Instead we embark on a month of feeding off each other, shutting ourselves off from the world almost completely. We spend almost every waking moment together. Ignoring everything and everyone.
But eventually, we need to come up for air. We’ve each missed so much uni that it’s likely we’re going to have to redo this semester, and I haven’t seen my parents since I moved out of home.
Now, they’re demanding that I go and see them, even going so far as to guilt me into it by using my brother’s death against me.
“We already lost Craig, Frank. Don’t distance yourself so much that we lose you too.”
It’s not that I’ve been staying away from them to hurt them, I’ve just been so caught up in Gerard. When it’s just the two of us, everything is perfect. Everything is right.
“You could probably come inside for dinner too if you’d like?” I suggest to Gerard as he drops me off at my parent’s house.
“As much as I would love to, I’ve organised a meeting with a possible new commission for tonight. I need to go and see them,” he explains.
My stomach sours, as the memory of Bec and her ‘portrait’ session flashes through my mind. “Do you have to do them?” I plead.
“Babe, this woman has been emailing me for ages, and I’ve been fobbing her off to be with you. But I’m running out of money. I need to do something.”
“I don’t like it. I don’t want you with someone else. I don’t trust any of them around you. Find another job – anything.”
“And have to work so much to earn the same amount of money that we never get to see each other? Is that what you want?”
“Well… no, I don’t bu–” I start before he cuts me off.
“Then trust me. Ok,” he says, reaching over to me and brushing my hair away from my face.
I fight the urge to close my eyes and lean into his hand as it touches my skin. He knows that once he touches me I have trouble thinking straight. But this is important, and I force my mind to stay sane.
“I want to meet her.”
“Excuse me?” he asks, confused.
“The woman. I want to meet her before you start working with her. And while you’re working, I will be sitting in your apartment, listening through the door of the fucking room you’re so secretive about, and if I hear one hint of a moan, I will go so crazy that what happened with Bec will seem like watching kittens at play. You feel me?” I state, my eyes wide and serious as he watches me, calmly listening.
“It’s the portraits or the fights. And fighting can get me thrown in gaol, so what will it be?”
I sit there, my eyes locked with his as he challenges me, knowing that I’d rather he did neither.
“You choose Franklin. I can call her and cancel then call the guys to go and hustle a fight. Or I can meet her and maybe get enough money to keep us going for another month.”
I bite my lip as I try to decide. “Take the meeting,” I tell him, my voice flat as I move to get out of the car, annoyed that he sprung this on me now.
“Hey,” he says, reaching out to grab my arm and pull me back toward him. He takes a hold of my face, and presses his lips to mine, kissing me tenderly, feeding me the life I need from him. “Don’t leave me angry. Just love me. Trust me.”
“I do love you, and it’s them I don’t trust. If they feel even a grain of sand’s worth of my attraction toward you, they’ll be all over you.”
“I’ll keep it professional. Call me when you’re done, ok?” he says, kissing me lightly as I agree and head toward the front door where my father is already waiting for me.
He nods toward Gerard as we both watch him drive off. “Is everything alright? Why isn’t he coming inside too? I’d like to talk to him.”
As I open my mouth to respond, my mother pushes in front of him and wraps her arms around me. “Frankie! Finally. I’ve missed you so much. Ignore your father. He’s just upset that he hasn’t seen you properly for over a month.”
I hug her back, feeling odd being back here again. It’s strange. It was my home for so many years, but it doesn’t feel that way. My eyes drift back over my shoulder, to the space where I just saw Gerard, missing him already.
“Come in, your Dad’s been cooking his special roast potatoes. He might not seem it right now, but he’s been looking forward to having you visit.”
My father leads the way toward the kitchen and dining area where everything is set and ready.
“So why did Gerard leave without coming in?” he asks again.
“Barry,” my mother admonishes.
“What? He’s been monopolising our son’s time for weeks now. So we never see him. I want to know why he can’t spare a few moments to come in and say hi.”
Before my mother can respond, I say, “He’s got a business meeting to go to.”
“A business meeting? What kind of business is he doing? I thought he was a university student, just like you,” my father says, placing his hands on his hips as he looks to me for information.
“I don’t know exactly,” I lie, avoiding eye contact as I move to sit at the table across from my mother.
“How do you not know?” My father asks, as he collects a tray laden with food, and walks it over to the table, setting it between us all.
“Can I get anybody a drink?” my mother says, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere.
“Because it’s none of my business,” I state, staring at my father defiantly.
“I thought it might be nice to have a glass of red with the lamb,” my mother continues, ignoring my father and me. “How are your classes Frank? Have you decided on what you’re doing for your research assignment yet?”
“Well, you should make it your business,” my father continues. “You spend enough bloody time with him. You should know every freaking thing about him.”
My mother lifts the bottle of wine and pours each of us a glass. Her cheeks starting to flame red as she becomes flustered by our refusal to change the subject.
“Is this why you wanted me here? To question me about Gerard? It would be nice if you could spend some time being interested in me for a change, and just me. Not my relationship. Not my training schedule or my grades. Just me. It might help if you actually took the time to try and find out who I am as a person. Then I might want to come around a little more often. I moved out for a reason dad. You don’t get to start demanding information from me the moment I walk in the door – especially when you’re the one who insisted that I come here.”
Glancing down at my wrist, I see the Ki bracelet he gave me for my birthday. I’ve worn it every day without fail because I felt it was such a touching gesture. But suddenly, I don’t want it anymore. I undo the clasp and push away from the table, dropping the bracelet on the table.
“You know what? I’m not hungry anymore.”
“Frank!” my mother calls as I head for the door.
“I’m sorry mum. I just didn’t come here to be brow beaten over Gerard.”
I pick up my bag and pull the door open, heading toward the train station on foot so I can go home.
“Frankie,” my mother calls, just as I step over the property line. “I’ll give you a lift.”
Stopping, I look back at my mother as she aims the electronic key at her Barina and presses the doors open. I press my lips together and walk over to the passenger door and get inside.
“I’m sorry mum,” I say, as she reverses out of the driveway.
“So am I Frank. Honestly, I’m disappointed in both of you. You certainly aren’t the innocent party here. You’ve barely called, you’ve cancelled dinners. And whenever we’ve stopped by your place, your housemates tell us that you’re out with your boyfriend. I’ve had a hard enough job stopping your father from storming down to the gym every morning to give you a piece of his mind. What you’ve done. It isn’t fair. You’ve gone and moved out and practically removed yourself from our lives as well. Don’t you think we’ve lost enough? Don’t you think we deserve better than a cursory text or phone call to let us know you’re alive?”
“Yes. You do. I’m sorry mum. I’ll try and be better to you.”
“Don’t try Frank. Do.”
Before I know it, we’ve pulled up outside the townhouse, and she’s reaching into her pocket for something. “Here,” she says, handing me back the Ki bracelet. “Put it back on, and tomorrow, I want you to call your father and smooth things over."
“But mum,” I start to argue, taking the black cord from her hands.
“Just do it. I’m not interested in being caught in the middle of you too. I can only handle one strong headed person at a time.”
I look down at the bracelet in my hands and roll the cord between my fingers. “Ok, I’ll talk to him.”
“Thank you, and Frank, I want to see you properly too. I miss you. I know you’re young and you’re caught up in the glow of a new relationship, but you need to remember your family and friends.”
Leaning toward me, she holds her arms out for an embrace. I of course, lean in and wrap my arms around her small frame.
“Thank you mum. I’m sorry dinner didn’t work out.”
“It’s ok. Although I wish you could have stayed, you look like you could use a good meal. Are you not eating properly?” she cups my chin in her hand and studies my face. “You look tired too. Too many night clubs huh?”
“Something like that,” I smile, dropping my eyes from hers. I can’t really explain the truth. How do you say to your mother that you’ve been so busy being ravished that you have begun forgoing food and sleep, just to stay in his arms.
“It might be a good idea to ask Gerard to check in with your father too. He hasn’t been attending the usual training sessions and your father is starting to develop conspiracy theories.”
“Ok,” I laugh, shaking my head slightly. “I’ll see what I can do.” I bid my mother farewell and climb out of the car, heading to the front door of the townhouse while I dig around in my bag for my key.
Just as my hand clasps around the smooth metal of the keychain, the front door bursts open. “Frankie! You’re here,” Anthony exclaims overly enthusiastically, blocking my way slightly.
“Well, I do pay rent for my room,” I say, trying to move past him.
“Yes. Yes you do.” Something about the way he’s talking and moving beside me, makes me think that he’s trying to herd me up the staircase instead of letting me through to the lounge room.
“What’s going on?” I ask slowly, narrowing my eyes at him as I sidestep him and head to the living area. “Oh. I see.”
Sitting on one of the couches are Elliott and Jeremy, he’s half draped over him in propriety, so I know that she obviously landed her prize. On the other couch is Aaron.
“Hey Frank. How are you?” he asks kindly.
“I’m not dating him,” Anthony says behind me, quickly and quietly. “You know – boy code and all that…”
“What?” I ask, not fully understanding what he said at first. “Oh! Boy code. Ok, I get it. It’s cool. You can all hang out with or date whomever you choose.”
“I’ll um… leave you all to it.” I nod, backing away from everybody before heading up to my room, where I can call Gerard in private and grab a few things to take back with me.
Sitting on my bed, I pull out my phone and select Gerard’s number before holding it to my ear to await the connection. Although it goes straight through to voicemail.
“Dammit,” I say to myself as I listen to his short and abrupt message.
I’m unavailable, leave your details and I’ll get back to you.
“Hi, it’s me. Don’t get all upset at me, but I’m not at mum and dad’s place. Dad was picking a fight with me, so I left and mum dropped me off at my place. I’m just going to pick up a couple of things, and if I don’t hear from you soon, I’ll walk over to your apartment and wait for you there.”
As I disconnect the call, there’s a gentle tap on my door. “Frankie?” Aaron says from the other side. I realise that the last time we spoke, was when I was trying to run away from Gerard.
Opening the door, I smile at him. “I guess I should explain what our last interaction was all about.”
“No. You don’t. I just want to see how you are. I haven’t heard from you. You haven’t been in class. I just need to know that you’re ok and if you need any help.” He keeps his voice quiet as he stuffs his hands into his pockets and studies me with concern in his eyes.
“Why would I need help? We just had a fight and I over reacted. I shouldn’t have forced you in the middle of it,” I tell him defensively, not liking what he’s insinuating.
“If you say so. You just don’t seem yourself. It’s unlike you to fall so far behind in your studies, and it’s unlike you to avoid your friends to spend all of your time shacked up with some guy.”
“You wouldn’t be complaining if it was you I was shacked up with,” I retort, taking offense to his supposed knowledge of the inner workings of my mind.
He presses his lips together and just nods his head, keeping his distance from me. “Ok.” Is all he says before he starts to turn away from my door. He takes two steps toward the staircase before stopping and turning back to me. “I know I keep saying this. But when you’re ready – when you need me. I’ll be there for you.”
“That’s really nice of you, Aaron. But I won’t be…”
“You will. Eventually you will. I have no doubt in my mind that you will one day call me, and I promise you that I will do whatever it takes to help you.”
“Why?” I ask, wondering how he can be so sure and so unwavering.
“Because I love you Frankie. How can you not know that?”
As he turns again and walks quietly down the stairs, I’m left with my mouth open and a pain in my chest as I watch after him. He’s right – how could I not know that? He’s been waiting for me this whole time. Ever since my father broke us up.
Feeling physically shaken after Aaron’s revelation, I sit on my bed and look around my room, paying attention to all of the things I have adorning the surfaces, all of the things that represent me.
Gerard’s apartment doesn’t have anything in there of me at all. I spend all of my time there, just being with him. While it’s what I thought I wanted, as I sit on my own, amongst my own things, I realise that I’m completely neglecting myself, and all those who were important to me before Gerard came along.
Standing up, I look in the mirror and study my reflection, paying close attention to the way my eyes seem to sink into my face due to my lack of sleep. It’s not that I look ill or anything, I just look tired. And I am tired. I’m very tired.
A burst of laughter travels up the stairs, and feeling left out, I decide it’s time for me to go. But not before I try to make amends by making plans to go out with everyone soon. Plans that I’m not going to break.
“Hey guys,” I say as brightly as I can, as I come down the stairs. “I’m going to head back out, but do you think we could maybe make some plans for this weekend? Maybe we could go to the city or something.”
“Yeah Frank,” Elliott nods. “I’m always up for a party. Make sure you’re here Friday, we’ll all travel in together.”
“Am I coming?” Jeremy nudges him, his arm resting lightly around his shoulders.
“Well, that all depends…” He leans in to him and whispers something in his ear, causing his eyebrows to shoot up high on his forehead.
“Excuse us,” he says, grabbing Elliott by the hand and heading for the staircase at great speed.
He gives me a wink as they pass, and he runs up after him. “See you Friday.”
“Alright,” I laugh, before turning back to Aaron and Anthony.
“Do you need a lift anywhere?” he asks.
The disappointment on Anthony’s face is obvious the moment he suggests leaving him on his own, while Jeremy and Elliott go at it upstairs. So I don’t have the heart to drag him away from him, and I especially can’t do it after what he said earlier – I don’t want to give him the wrong idea.
“No thanks. I’ll be fine on my own.”
Turning away from them, I walk out of the townhouse and head to Gerard’s, checking my phone again to see if he’s called, and I missed it. Although, in a way, I’m glad he’s still out, I think I could do with some sleep.
***
“Frankie,” I hear whispered in my ear, startling me awake. It’s grown dark and I wonder how long I’ve been asleep for.
“What time is it?” I mumble, inhaling sharply as I try to wake myself up.
“After nine. What are you doing here?”
“Sleeping, and waiting for you. What time did you get back?”
“Frankie. You can’t come back here when I’m working. Not after last time.”
“What?” I say, sitting up in the bed. I reach over to turn the lamp on. “You weren’t even here.”
“Not at first, no. But I don’t think it’s very professional of me to have a naked boy in my bed when I bring clients around. You are naked aren’t you?” he asks, sliding his hand underneath the sheets brushing his fingertips down the length of my body. “Well, i got that part right.”
“Don’t,” I complain, flinching away from him, it’s probably the first time I’ve ever had restraint around him. Sitting up, I keep my body covered, trying to get this all straight in my head. “Firstly, what the hell was she doing here? And secondly, why would she ever see me in your bed?”
“You left the bedroom door open, we could see straight in,” he explains.
“And why was she here?”
“So I could walk her through the process.”
“You took her into the spare room?”
“I did,” he states, dipping his head to plant soft kisses on my shoulders. Knowing that he’ll distract me with sex, I try to keep my wits about me. Although my resolve begins to waiver as the sheet falls away, and he takes my nipple into his mouth.
“Please show me what it is you do. I want to know Gerard. I won’t be ok until I know.”
Sucking my nipple into a hard peak, he sits back on his knees, pulling his shirt over his head. My hands immediately reach out to touch his skin running my fingertips down over his chest and abs with my need to feel him whenever he’s near.
“That wouldn’t be fair. Only clients get to see the work. There are rules,” he murmurs, removing his pants and sliding into the bed behind me. His hand reaching over my waist and down to my member, a finger slipping between my thighs to tease my slit on the head.
“What if I became a client?” I whisper, closing my eyes as the delicious sensation of his touch starts to flood my body and my mind.
“I wouldn’t take your money. When I create a portrait for you, it will be for my absolute pleasure.” He grips my hips, tilting them so he has access, and enters my warm, depths.
“When will you show me?” I ask, gasping as his thrust presses firmly against my prostate spot, and his hand work my length. I don’t know how much longer I can hold a conversation for.
“Soon, my love, soon.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NEXT MORNING~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Surprisingly, the next morning when I ask Gerard to come into the city with everyone on Friday, he actually agrees immediately.
“What are you doing?” I ask as he stops eating his breakfast to reach for his phone, his fingers working furiously to type out a message on the screen.
“Telling the guys. They can set something up.”
“Like what? A fight?”
“Yep,” he confirms, giving his phone a final tap, before setting it down beside him on the table.
“I thought you said that I could choose. Portraits or a fight?”
“Yes, but as my main money maker. If you chose fighting, it would have meant that I’d be out there every weekend looking for someone to hustle. Now I can do it for fun. Besides, we need the cash.”
“But you just got a commission, didn’t you?” I ask him, confused.
“Yeah, but I need money to hold us over until I’m done. She’s only paid me the deposit.”
“How is it that I’m feeling as though I’m the one getting hustled right now?” I comment, shaking my head at him for managing to get his own way – again.
“Take your clothes off. I’ll give you your way for the rest of the day,” he growls erotically, the rumble of his voice sends glorious chills racing around inside me.
I stand, and pull the blanket off my body.
“You’re on,” I say, turning around and striding toward the bedroom, boldly naked.

When Friday rolls around, Gerard drops me off at my place so I can get ready with Elliott and Anthony
“Make sure they understand that I don’t want any of you watching when a fight goes down. I can’t make any money if they start getting hits in,” he reminds me for the billionth time. He’s made me promise to stay inside the nightclub when the fight happens.
“I wouldn’t dream of distracting you. I don’t know if I’d enjoy looking at your face anymore if it got all beaten up. I’m very superficial you know,” I joke, unable to keep the grin off my face as I speak.
“That’s bullshit and you know it. You’d love me with a smashed up nose – as long as my tongue and my mouth still works.” He winks, pulling me toward him to press his lips against mine before he heads off to meet up with the guys who are the lookouts for his fights.
Humming as we separate, he presses his forehead against mine. “I’ll see you in an hour,” he murmurs, kissing me once more before unlocking the car to let me out. “One hour,” he repeats, calling after me as I walk up the short driveway.
“Alright, go!” I laugh, shooing him away as I head inside and call out that I’m here. Elliott, of course, is already making pre-emptive cocktails in the kitchen.
“We were wondering, since you have never slept in your room – can we turn it into a home office or a gym?” Anthony asks me when I walk through the door.
“No,” I smile. “It still holds most of my clothes.”
“Damn,” he says with a smile, clicking his fingers dramatically. “Oh, and it’s just us tonight. Elliott and Jeremy had a falling out.”
“Really? What happened, you were all over each other just last weekend?”
“Bedroom malfunction. He thought he could get all up my back door without discussing it with me first, so I threw him out,” he says, licking some sort of sauce off the back of his hand as he shrugs like it’s no big deal.
“Couldn’t you have just said ‘no’ and moved on?” I ask.
“He doesn’t want a guy who just takes from him,” Anthony explains. “Supposedly, he wasn’t that great with his tongue either.”
“Yeah, he was fucking hopeless. But he was plenty happy to have me lollipopping all over him whenever he got the chance. Nope. No thank you. You don’t get to ride the Elliott train indefinitely based on your looks alone,” He comments, heading back into the kitchen to tend to the drinks. “Are you drinking with us?” Elliott yells after me as I begin to climb up the stairs.”
“Yes. I’ll just take a shower first,” I call back, as I grab a few things from my room and make for the bathroom.
Unlike Gerard’s, this bathroom is littered with beauty and bath products. It’s clean, but it’s cluttered, although I don’t really have the right to complain. At the moment, I’m kind of spending an exorbitant amount of money for storage space. I know I could give up the room, but I just don’t feel comfortable doing it. We’ve only been together for a couple of months, despite how I feel about him, it’s way too soon to make anything permanent.
Here’s the thing, while I with him, I’m in Damienland. It’s this place where everything is wonderfully blissful and I rarely question anything. It’s filled with sex, orgasms and clouds. Yes clouds. That’s what I feel like I’m walking on. I don’t know how he does it, but if we ever figure it out, we could bottle it and make a fortune – then he wouldn’t feel the need to do all of this other shit to make money.
When I’m away from him, although it’s not often that I am, it’s as though my mind starts to clear, and all the questions that surround him and his actions start to present themselves. I promise myself I’ll get to the bottom of his issues. That I’ll be that one person he shares himself with completely. But ultimately, I know that’s not going to happen. He’s far too guarded. I just need to decide whether that’s something I can live with. Although I’m not sure I’ll have a choice. Because one thing I’m very sure of, is that I need him, and he needs me - we fucking need each other.
Taking my time, I slowly soap up my body, enjoying the warm stream of water as it flows over my body. The tattoo pen has worn away on my thigh, but I now have a new design on my stomach, this one is an intricate array of feathers and stars – it kind of looks like a peacock tail. It sweeps down from beneath my breast bone, curving around my belly button, until it sweeps across my abdomen.
I have to admit, I love being his canvas. I asked him if he wanted me get one of his designs, tattooed permanently on my flesh but he replied ‘no’, he just wants to keep drawing on me.
I have chosen to wear an open, jacket shirt what fits tightly around my chest, but flows freely. I've left it open so you can see my naked chest. I quickly run back into my room and apply baby lotion on the tattoos so they stand out. I've decided to wear super tight silk jeans, For dignity’s sake, I wear a pair of black briefs. I’ve owned them for a while, but never found occasion to wear them. Tonight, I plan to dance, drink, and have fun, then go home with my man and spend the night in his arms. And hopefully, he’ll make enough from the bets that he won’t have to do this again for a while.
Pinning my fringe back so it brushes out my eyes before jelling my hair up so it's nice and spiked up. Not one strand on my face. I apply the minimal amount of makeup. Eyeliner and powder, not wanting to look like I’m trying too hard. As I press my lips together, I hear the honk of Gerard’s horn outside.
Grabbing my wallet, I shove my feet into my black creepers, and make my way down the stairs.
“Tell him to come in,” Elliott calls after me as I run for the door.
Nodding, I rush out into the cool night air, my eyes desperate for a glimpse of him, an hour just feels like too long.
“Holy fucking shit,” Gerard breathes when he sees me. “There is no way I can leave you alone looking like that.”
“Well you’ll have to,” I grin, taking his hand and indicating that we’re going inside. “You have a job to do.”
“I didn’t know you were going to look like this,” he counters, pausing before we go inside, pressing a soulful kiss against my lips.
“There isn’t a man or women in this world who turns my head like you do. I want you to want me – nothing more,” I whisper as he grazes his mouth along my jaw, sucking on my ear lobe.
“I want you in a paper bag,” he murmurs, pulling on my lobe with his teeth, sending chills through my body.
Laughing, I press against his chest, to separate us. “We are required inside. Elliott is trying to make cocktails,” I inform him.
“This will be interesting,” he says, taking my hand as we head inside. I lead him into the kitchen, where Elliott is preparing some sort of concoction. All I can hear is him swearing as the blender cuts in and out, rocking back and forth across the counter as he tries to steady it.
“Fucking piece of shit,” He yells at it before noticing that we’re in the room.
“Oh hi! Oh wow – that’s a very fitted shirt you have on there Gerard. Did somebody call for a stripper?”
“Oh my god! Elliott!” Anthony admonishes. “You can’t talk about Frank's boyfriend like that.”
“Sure I can. Come on Gee Gee, if you’re going to stay, you’ll be required to remove your shirt. And since you’re going to piss off on us to go play fisty cuffs with some other guys. I’m declaring this a boys’ night. So we plan to do a lot of ogling.”
My mouth falls open when Gerard tilts his head in acceptance and moves to lift his shirt. “No!” I call out, not wanting to share one part of his body with anyone else. My stomach turns sour at the thought of anyone else drooling over his abs except for me. “Don’t you dare,” I warn him over my shoulder.
This only elicits a panty dropping smile from him, and I actually witness both boys turning into puddles at his feet.
Normally, I’m not a jealous person. I was fine when I was dating Aaron. Other girls and boys would always go on about how wonderful he was. I could handle that. I actually took pride in them sighing over my boyfriend. But with Gerard, I’m feeling a little irrational and have to keep a firm hold of my tongue or else I’m going to tell them to keep the fuck away from my man.
Jesus. What the hell is happening to me?
Gripping his hand tighter, I keep a very firm hold on him, not letting go for the next hour. I don’t think he minds though, he seems to enjoy having me as close as possible and drops light kisses on the bare skin of my shoulders whenever he gets a chance.
When it’s finally time to make our way into the city, I’m feeling a little disappointed that he won’t be staying with us for the whole night. I’ve already had a couple of cocktails, and I’m well and truly happy for the evening when he drops us off in front of the night club.
“Aren’t you coming in with us?” I ask.
“I have to meet the guys. I’ll be back. No more alcohol for you. Understand?” he tells me. “I’m trusting you.”
“I understand. I more than love you,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around his neck as we say goodbye.
“I more than love you too. Now go. Be good,” he says.
“I promise,” I grin, following Anthony and Elliott as we join the line to enter.
“Bye lover boy!” they call out, giggling as we make our way inside and pay our cover charge
Once inside, it takes a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the hazy dark of the club as Trance music vibrates through my breast bone.
“I need more drinks,” Elliott calls out, dragging us all over to the bar.
“That cocktail you made was pretty strong Ell,” I tell her, leaning down to speak into his ear. “I think I’ll just grab some water.”
He shoots me a look over his shoulder that says ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ and proceeds to order a round of drinks for all of us. “Here, I got you lolly water instead – there’s like, no alcohol in those things at all.”
I hold up the bottle of poison green fluid and note that it’s still 1.3 standard drinks and decide to drink slowly. I’m not interested in starting a fight with Gerard over the amount I should or shouldn’t drink.
Scanning the room, I watch as people mingle and dance, but really, I’m just waiting for Gerard to come back.
“Drink up,” Elliott instructs me. “I’m ready for another round.”
“Already? Jesus Ell, you have to slow down. You’re going to destroy your liver,” Anthony says from beside him. She’s only halfway through his drink, slowly sipping it as he people watches and dances where he stands.
Elliott waves him off dismissively and turns to push his way back to the bar, her small frame disappearing amongst the crowd.
“I’m worried about him. She drinks far too much,” Anthony informs me.
“Yeah, I’m noticing. he’s only tiny. Where does he put it all?”
“He can’t handle the amount he drinks. Every time we go out, he ends up getting sick, and I have to get him home. He’s my best friend, and I feel responsible for him, but it’s getting a bit much. I had to stop him from having sex with some guy on the dance floor the other week,” He says, shaking his head at the memory.
“What do you want to do about it?” I ask, thinking that maybe we could talk to him and try to convince him to slow down.
“What can I do? I’ve tried talking to him and refusing to come out with him, but he just does it anyway. At least if I’m with him, I can keep an eye on him so he doesn’t do anything too crazy,” he shrugs.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been around more,” I say, feeling bad for moving in, but never being a good housemate to them.
“Don’t be silly. You’ve been busy with Gerard. Speak of the devil,” he notes, nodding toward the club entrance where Gerard is entering, accompanied by the two friends we saw him with last time as well as one other. The moment I look over at him, his eyes find me and he smiles, it’s like a cord connects us and pulls us together, pushing out everything else around us. I can barely hear the music, just a static sound created by the whooshing of my blood through my ears as I stand still and wait.
“What’s this?” he asks, taking the bottle of melon flavoured alcohol from my hands.
“Would you believe me if I said I was holding it for a friend?” I try, pulling at my bottom lip with my teeth.
“Franklin,” he warns, but there’s still a softness in his tone, meaning that he doesn’t like to be pushed, but he isn’t going to make a big deal out of this.
“Gerard,” I return, reaching my hand out and hooking my finger into the belt loops of his jeans, pulling on them to urge him closer to me. “Dance with me,” I whisper in his ear.
Handing off the bottle to one of his friends, he has eyes only for me as he wraps his arms around my waist and manages to melt us into the pulsating crowd to reach the dance floor.
We dance to a beat of our own, the music throbbing around us, at odds with our slow movement. His hands roam over my body, as his eyes drift over my face, he always seems to be studying me, like he needs my image burned into his memory.
I find that he communicates so much with me through his gaze and his touch, it’s as if tendrils of emotion rise up out of him and enter me, entwining with my very being, connecting us in some kind of strange symbiosis.
When he dips his head to take my mouth in his, everything stops, all time, all sound, is gone. All that exists is the two of us in a world built only for us.
I have no idea how much time passes while Gerard and I sway together on the dance floor, our bodies pressed tightly together and our mouths connected like we’re drinking in each other’s life force.

Eventually though, we’re interrupted and catapulted back to reality when one of Gerard’s mates taps him on the shoulder and whispers something in his ear.
“Who was that?” I ask.
“Just a friend,” he says, before adding, “I need to go. We need to find your friends.” Extending to his full height, he scans the room seeking out elliott and Anthony. “Over there,” he says, pulling me through the crowd.
“Hey!” Elliott yells, his grin broad and his face shining.
“he’s smashed,” Anthony explains, looking fairly unimpressed.
“I’m leaving Harry with you. Stay here,” Gerard instructs, eyeing Elliott warily. “I think he needs some water.”
“I’ll get her some,” I say before adding, “Wait a second, who the hell is Harry?”
Gerard shifts his gaze to the space over my left shoulder, turning around I spot a well built, dark haired guy with Asian features who looks more like a Special Forces security guard than somebody’s actual friend.
“Seriously – I’m being babysat?” I ask disbelievingly. “I thought we were supposed to trust each other?”
“I do trust you,” he murmurs into my ear as he runs his finger along the edge of my jacket, skirting the flesh of my chest with his fingertips. “I just don’t trust everyone else.”
He turns his head and leaves a lingering kiss on my cheek before stepping away. “Do not leave this club,” he instructs. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Come on Gee!” one of his friends calls from behind him.
Nodding at his friends, he turns to leave. From the look on his face, I can tell he’s having second thoughts about leaving me, but with one last glance over his shoulder toward me, he disappears through the club’s back door.
Elliott moves in next to me, watching after him and his friends. “We need to get out there to watch,” he declares.
“No. He doesn’t want me out there.”
“Elliott. I think we should just stay here,” Anthony puts in, looking clearly uncomfortable at the thought of witnessing a street fight.
“What’s he going to do? He won’t even see us there,” he slurs a little, his balance a little off as he teeters on her shoes.
“Yes, but he’ll know we left. We have a sitter,” I inform him, pointing at Harry who’s standing with his arms crossed stoically behind me, witnessing our conversation.
Pulling on my arm, Elliott leans up to speak close to my ear. “He won’t catch us if we make a run for it,” he suggests, to which I shake my head.
“No,” I state.
Biting on her his lip, he looks from Harry to me, to Anthony, his mouth curling in a grin before he bolts for the door, his tiny frame making it easy for him to duck and weave through the crowd faster than the rest of us.
“Elliott!” Anthony calls out. “Shit, we have to go after him,” he panics, pulling at my arm to follow.
I take one step with her before an arm shoots out to stop me. For the first time in my life, I react the way I’m trained to, using Harry’s momentum to tip him off balance and knock him to the ground.
“I’m sorry, I have to find my friends,” I yell as I race after Anthony and elliott, not even knowing if Harry could hear me, or if he’s following as well.
As I burst through the back door, I catch up to Anthony as he continues to push through the outside crowd. “he’s over there!” he yells back at me, pointing to the footpath where Elliott is standing and looking both ways.
“Where the hell is the fight?” Elliott wonders out loud, as soon as we catch up to him. p
“I don’t know. They must have gone somewhere else,” I state, scanning the crowd for Gerard. He’s so tall that he would easily stand out, but he’s nowhere to be seen. “Maybe we should just go back in. They’ll come back and wonder where we are.”
“They can’t be too far. Let’s go,” Elliott says, completely ignoring me as he takes off down the street.
Anthony and I exchange exasperated glances. Shrugging, we follow after him, hoping we don’t take a wrong turn and get lost.
“Elliott, I really think we should just go back. I don’t like walking the city streets and I really don’t want to see a fight,” anthony complains, his arms folded protectively across his chest as he follows a step or two behind.
“Live a little Ant, you’re always so cautious,” Elliott responds, turning around and walking backwards as he speaks.
“Holy crap!” Anthony breaths, his eyes widening as she freezes on the spot. Suddenly, a rush of people come flying out of a side street like rats escaping a sinking ship.
The air fills with panic as everyone scatters and one guy runs toward us yelling, “COPS!”
We all squeal like a bunch of five year old boys, clutching at each other as people race around either side of us.
“Fucking run!” I hear, as strong hands grab a hold of my waist and catapult me forward. I have no choice but to run or else I’ll fall. Caught up in the panic, I look around for Anthony and Elliott, feeling relieved when I see they are running along with us, guided by Gerard's two friends whose names I still don’t know.
“Up here,” one of them yells, pulling Kensi by the hand into another side street. We all follow, slowing our pace down when we realise that we’re not being followed.
“What the fuck were you doing on the street?” demands Gerard.
“We were…” I start, but Elliott interrupts as he hunches over and groans before spilling the contents of his stomach on the footpath.
“Oh Ell,” Anthony complains. “Not again.”
“Get them home,” he instructs his mates, who nod and, supporting elliott, escort them out of the side street and into the throng of the Friday night crowd.
Grabbing my hand, Gerard tugs me out into the crowd as well, heading in the opposite direction, toward where he parked his car.
Pulling his phone out, he swipes his thumb over the screen then holds it to his ear. “What the fuck happened?” he says after a moment, pausing as he listens then grunting out a response. “Well you fucked up.” He taps his thumb again, before putting his phone in his back pocket.
“Who was that?” I ask, when he just continues heading for the car park without speaking to me.
“Why is it so hard for you to stay put?” he growls as he pulls me along briskly.
“I was going after Elliott. He bolted and we weren’t going to leave him alone in the city!” I explain defensively.
“Is there a reason you took out Harry?”
“You’re the one who made me start training again. You can’t complain when I use what I know when the situation calls for it.”
He shakes his head and sets his jaw, his anger rolling off his body as his grip on me stays firm. “You’re a fucking child who can’t do what he’s told.”
“Excuse me? I’m the child? You’re the one who’s running around fighting for money instead of getting a regular job – let’s not even get into your fucking portrait business!” I bite back. “Does this happen a lot? Getting chased by the cops?” I demand, attempting to pull my hand away from his. His grip just tightens.
“I’m not discussing this with you anymore,” he states, as we reach his car and he roughly deposits me in. I open and close my fingers a few times, allowing the blood to run through them again. His grip wasn’t painful, but it was certainly restrictive.
“Fine, don’t discuss it - I don’t want you fighting anymore Gerard. I don’t want you doing any of it. Get a fucking job stacking shelves or pouring beers for fucks sake. If you want to fight – enter a bloody tournament. If you want to make money from your art and design skills, make fucking custom book covers or advertising posters – I don’t care what you do with it. Just stop what you’re doing now. I can’t take all of this secrecy anymore. It’s driving me insane! I mean, I’ve been with you for over two months now, and I still don’t know what’s in your other room. I’m at your house every fucking day! What’s the big secret Gerard? Why can’t you just share your life with me?”
Gripping the steering wheel tightly, he steers us toward the motorway, keeping his eyes ahead and his jaw clenched.
I know I should stop talking, but I can’t, now that it’s coming out of me, I need to keep going. “Is this how our lives are always going to be? You make the rules, and I follow them or else you crack it? Are you always going to keep tabs on me? Are you ever planning on introducing me to your friends?” I ask, assaulting him with just a few of the questions that have been plaguing my mind.
He doesn’t answer me, he just keeps focused on the road as we speed down the freeway toward Penrith.
“Well?” I prompt.
“Which answer do you want first?”
“All of them.”
“Fine. Yes Franklin, this is how it’s going to be. I am always going to keep tabs on you. I need to know where you are and that you’re safe. I didn’t introduce you, because they’re not the kind of guys I want you associating with. You don’t need to get mixed up in my shit! But what I want to know is – why? Why, when I specifically told you to wait with your friends at the club, you had to come outside? You could have told Harry to go after Elliott, and just waited for me to come back like I fucking asked. But no, in typical Franklin style, you do the fucking opposite. Take out the very guy I left to keep an eye on you and somehow manage to be walking directly into the fight I specifically told you to stay away from! Do you understand what could have happened if I wasn’t one hundred percent focused on the guys I was fighting? If you’re around me, I can’t fucking concentrate. You’re the only person I see. I’m out there, fighting guys that are half cut from drinking all night. Sometimes it gets out of hand, and I need to be able to see it coming. I don’t need to be worrying about you. So please, the next time I tell you to stay put – fucking stay put! And no, I won’t be giving up fighting. It makes me too much fucking money!” he yells, flicking a wad of money over at me, the colourful notes raining down around me, landing on my lap and falling around the car. There is easily a thousand dollars here – maybe more.
We sit and drive in silence for a while. “You’re a dick,” I say finally, my arms folded over my chest as I ignore the money and stare ahead.
“Great. Now your name calling. See, this is why I’ve never had a boyfriend. Just girlfriends. You’re so fucking stubborn. If you had just listened to me in the first place, we wouldn’t be having these issues.”
“I’m not the one who went looking for your fight, the other two did.”
“I’m not talking about the goddamned fight. I’m talking about us. You’re too young. You weren’t ready. But you fucking pushed.”
“Don’t talk like you’re stuck with me Gerard. It’s not like we’re married and have kids. You can get out of this anytime you like.”
“Is that what you want? You want out of this?”
“I don’t know what the fuck I want anymore. Someone else is always there, making my decisions for me. I left home because I couldn’t stand the rules. I couldn’t stand the fear that losing my brother produced in my parents. For years they smothered me Gerard! And now you’re doing the same fucking thing!”
“You don’t understand,” he growls, down shifting as he takes the Northern Road exit.
“Of course I don’t understand. Our relationship is all about fucking, I know very little about you.”
“Do not call it fucking Franklin. It has never been about fucking and you know it,” he bites back.
“Fuck you.” It’s not very eloquent, but it’s all I have right now. I’ve been drinking, and I guess I’m being irrational, but I’m just getting so sick and tired of all the secrecy and all the protection. “Just take me back to my place.”
Tightening my arms across my chest, I stare out the window, not saying a word as we drive the darkened streets. We pull into the parking lot of his apartment building, and I get out straight away, slamming my side before I start to walk off.
“Get back here,” he demands.
“If you won’t take me home, I’ll fucking walk there myself.”
“Franklin, you’re being ridiculous,” he says from behind me as he catches up.
“Am I? The more I think about this, the more sense this makes. I need to go home – to my home. I need some time away from you.”
“Why? I’ve done nothing but care for you.”
“It’s too much! Tonight was supposed to be fun. I’m eighteen for fucks sake. I’m supposed to be going out with my friends. But you keep restricting everything I do. You’re so fucking selfish. It’s all about you – all the fucking time!”
“No Franklin. It’s always about you. Always,” he entreats, as I insert my hands into my hair, tears escaping my eyes as I shake my head in frustration.
“God, I hate feeling like this! I just wanted to be free. I hate you for making me need you!” I cry, sobbing uncontrollably as he steps forward, wrapping me in his arms, holding me against his chest.
I just sob. I curl myself into his body and I sob.
“I need you too,” he whispers, kissing the top of my head, his strong body cocooning me in its warmth. “God, I’m all over the place right now,” I say eventually, standing back from him and wiping at my eyes, hoping that I don’t have mascara streaming down my cheeks. “I just… I feel strange. I slip my fingers into his pocket before feeling a small little paper.
"F-Frank!! DONT READ THAT!!!" I ignored gerards demands and yanked the paper put his pocket, the words making my heart top.
"H-HIV treatment?" I choke, dropping the paper onto the floor, feeling my body turn numb.

Notes