The Fantasy

Frank paced up and down the living room, occasionally sipping the beer in his hand as his mind began to wander back to Mr Way; resurfacing memories of that afternoon. He had to report him. There was no way he could do that to him. It was sick.

He stormed over to the phone, dialling the number for Hertfordshire Police. He hesitated for a moment, biting his lip nervously. What would everyone think if this got out? Everyone would hate him; call him a fag or spread rumours about him fucking the teacher. As for Mikey, he would hate him. The one person he could call his friend would abandon him, hate him for kissing his brother and then who would he have?

Nobody that’s for sure.

Frank slowly hung up, rubbing his temples impatiently as he slumped into a nearby chair. He had never felt so confused. On one hand, he hated Mr Way. He shouldn’t have kissed him. It was disgusting and so unbelievably wrong....

and yet, those lips were all he wanted right now.

*****

Gerard lay awake in his sleeping bag, his mind rapidly wandering from one thought to the next. The red glow of the digital clock on his bedside table almost seemed to light up the darkness of his room, giving it an almost spooky atmosphere. He couldn’t sleep. Not out of fear of the dark, because he felt more relaxed, safer, under the cover of darkness, but because of the man who lived across town from him. His very face plaguing his thoughts as he tossed and turned in his bed; why was he torturing himself like this?

He stared up at the ceiling, running his fingers through his hair as he quietly cursed himself. He thought back to the moment in the classroom, fantasies of what could have happened danced across his mind; pulling Frank closer to him, gently cupping his face with his hand as he firmly pressed his lips against his.

Gerard quickly sat up, breathing heavily as he slapped his forehead with his hand; trying to rid himself of these thoughts. How could he have been so stupid? What if Frank went to his parents or worse the police?

He couldn’t go back to prison, he just couldn’t.

He glanced at the clock; it was 2:30AM. He didn’t want to be like this. Why couldn’t he just have something normal, something good? Gerard groaned, dragging his hands down his face, the moonlight streaming down through his bedroom window as he dragged his tired body out of bed. He crept towards the wardrobe on the far side of his room; the floorboards creaking loudly with every step. He reached the wardrobe doors, hesitating for a moment before pulling them open, pushing back the clothes and stared wide eyed and lovingly at the sight before his eyes.


Hundreds of pictures and drawings of Frank were nailed to the back of the wardrobe, the faces of the others within the photographs had been viciously crossed out and his name scratched deeply into the dark wood of the furniture. He traced it delicately with her finger tips, the rough touch felt almost pleasurable against his soft, pale skin.

Gerard sighed, he couldn’t let him go.

Notes

Just a short filler chapter
What do you think should happen in the next chapter? Let me know what you thinks :)

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