Bound

Gerard prays that Frank and his heart to heart will overrule any negative feelings that they had previously had for each other.
Again, Gerard has overestimated Frank Iero. It’s just the next morning, already Frank’s being pestered by the two other boys.
They’re still teasing him about how he had gotten a boner, and he’s just as red as he was the first time, if not redder. Gerard’s minding his own business, trying to finish their paper for the creative writing class (Frank did contribute again the night before after his shower, but Gerard was still so behind after trying to write it himself).
One of the boys tries to pull Frank’s pants down, and Frank’s immediate response is to drive the attention away from himself by calling,
“Gerard, get the fuck off my bed.”
Gerard realizes that he had perched on Frank’s bunk without noticing, more worried about finishing the paper than whose bed was whose. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want a fatass like you breaking it,” Frank spits. “Now fucking get off before I kick your ass.”
Gerard hops down, deciding that he’s not going to take Frank’s shit anymore. He doesn’t care if it’s just an insecurity thing; that doesn’t give him a pass to fucking humiliate him in front of other kids. He pushes Frank’s chest, growling, “You really think you can take me?”
Frank’s voice trembles as he replies, “Yeah, I know I can.”
“Prove it,” Gerard orders, shoving Frank again, much harder than the first time.
Frank curls up his fists, not wanting to fight. “No.”
Gerard scoffs, “Are you afraid of me? You little bitch?”
The other boys are snickering, their wide eyes glued to Frank, waiting for him to pounce on Gerard.
But Frank doesn’t, just stands there. He finally pushes past Gerard, who grabs Frank by the arm and yanks him back, punching him squarely in the jaw.
Frank’s almost knocked to the ground, but he manages to stay on his feet. He stumbles, hand flying up to where he’d been struck. He then launches himself at Gerard, finding it easier than he thought to take the larger boy to his feet. He takes a few swipes at him, but only makes contact a couple times before he’s pulled off by the other boys, who clap a hand over Frank’s mouth, which is spewing obscenities.
“Do you want to get kicked out of camp!?” one of the boys hisses.
“Yeah, shut the fuck up, Iero!” the other whispers furiously.
Frank squirms from their grasp, composing himself. He leaves the cabin, still grumbling under his breath.
Gerard groans as he pulls himself to his feet, fixing his shirt. It’s not even first period yet, and already he’s been caught in a fight.
“Hey, Gerard,” one of the boys says. “Way to stand up for yourself, really.”
Gerard grins, and tries to hide this by scratching his nose. He is actually able to change with the other boys into his swim trunks. At this rate, he may even be able to shower later.
He and Frank avoid each other for the periods they have together, exchanging occasional sour glares.
It’s not until their recreational period that the two even speak in front of the other. Gerard’s lying in the grass by the basketball court, a novel cracked open in front of him. He’s of course stealing occasional glances at some of the shirtless boys playing the game. God bless shirts vs. skins.
Frank is on the shirts team, and Gerard finds himself to be disappointed at that fact. He sees him dribbling down the court, playing point guard, and it catches his interest for some reason.
Frank makes it down to the three point line, and he’s got his hip stuck into the other boy’s stomach, guarding the ball. The boy playing against Frank is an older one, and he’s been known to play dirty. Gerard is thinking about this just as the boy yanks Frank’s basketball shorts to his ankles.
Frank turns scarlet and immediately drops the ball, fumbling to get his shorts back up. For the meantime, he’s standing in his black briefs as the other boy steals the ball, bolting down the court and making an easy layup.
Frank’s got his shorts back on, and he stammers, “That’s… that’s not fair!”
The other kids are all laughing too hard to agree or disagree, so Frank continues,
“That’s like a foul, isn’t it?”
“Iero, shut up,” a kid snaps.
“Yeah, don’t get your panties in a wad,” another calls, making all of the boys laugh harder at Frank’s expense.
The game picks up eventually, and Frank’s still pink in the cheeks as he guards his kid, the one who had pulled his bottoms down in the first place. The boy passes it to a teammate, again brings Frank’s shorts to the ground in order to move around him, catch a pass, and make a shot.
Frank being embarrassed is apparently just as funny as it was the first time, and he almost looks like he’s going to cry.
Gerard snaps, and stands up, marching over to the court. He swipes the ball from the boy who’d humiliated Frank and tosses it all the way into the woods, causing each boy to stop laughing and tense up.
“Fuck you, asshole!” Gerard barks. “You think you can treat him like that?”
“It’s called a joke, fatass,” the boy snarls. He shoves Gerard, adding, “Maybe you should learn to take one.”
“That’s not a fucking joke, he’s almost crying!” Gerard spits. “You’re a fucking joke.”
“What are you, his boyfriend?” the boy demands.
“Ooooooh,” the boys all say in unison.
Gerard blushes, and clenches his fists, retorting, “Well, what if I was?”
The kid laughs, answering, “Well, I wouldn’t be afraid of either of you, seeing as you’re a whale and Iero’s a faggot.”
Frank turns off in the other direction, practically sprinting for their cabin.
Gerard shoots the kid an icy glare before chasing after Frank, ignoring the boy’s yell of,
“Yeah that’s right, run like the little girl you are!”
By the time Gerard makes it to the cabin, Frank’s already inside, his sobs resonating. Gerard eases open the door slowly, stepping inside and closing it softly behind him.
Frank’s huddled up in the corner, his knees tucked to his chest and his head buried. His shoulders are shaking as he weeps, and it’s this awful, broken sound that’s coming out. Each cry stabs Gerard’s gut, because he hasn’t heard someone cry so genuinely since elementary school.
“Why…why does everyone hate me?” Frank asks, not looking up. “I’m the only one allowed to.”
Gerard hangs by the doorway, pleading, “Don’t say that. They don’t hate you; they’re just dumb boys. Don’t pay them any mind.”
“Boys hate me,” Frank whimpers. “But I love them. I’m fucking doomed.”
“Really,” Gerard persists. “A lot of them are dumb at this age, that’s all.”
“I fall for anyone who treats me like shit,” Frank cries. “I hate it.”
Gerard shrugs, admitting, “I don’t know what to tell you, Frank.”
Frank is silent, so Gerard proceeds,
“I’ll just tell you my rules. Rule one-”
“Clean your wounds when you cut yourself,” Frank interrupts. He finally looks up at Gerard and gives a smile. And it’s not a pretty smile, it’s a lopsided, try-hard, fucked up smile. But it’s an honest smile, and that’s one Gerard’s happy to take.

Notes

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