Forget About The Dirty Looks.

Gerard's POV
Shit, my head. What the fuck happened last night? I reach out a hand, looking for Frankie. Everything then comes rushing back to me. The horrible things I said, him breaking up with me. Me sitting in the hospital toilets for about fifteen minutes, then running away and bumping into Craig. He gave me a shit-ton of drugs... Shit.
I literally cannot remember anything. I'm naked, though, so whatever I did wasn't good. I open one eyes and check if there's any light coming in. No, there isn't and there's nobody in the room, either. I sit up, slowly, and look for my clothes. I find my t-shirt and pick it up, putting it on. I can't see anything else of mine, yet, though.
I move some shit around and eventually find my other item of clothing. As I put them on, I notice various bruises, in shapes of fingers on my hips, thighs and wrists, scratches down my back and a ton of hickies littering my being. Every time I find a new mark on me, I curse out-loud.
My head hurts every time I move, so I sit on the bed for a while, my eyes closed. My stomach rumbles, motivating me to walk out of this room and find whoever lives in this house. I need to know what happened last night. Maybe I can find Craig, too.
I open the door a bit, peeking out. Nobody's in the hallway, so I step out. I feel so dirty, like I haven't had a shower in several weeks. I need to go back to the hospital or back home, I need to find my phone, I need to see Frankie. I need a lot of things, most of which I can't have.
I past a load of doors, all with different noises coming from them. I pass them quickly, not looking where I'm going, and I bump into somebody.
"Ah, it's Gerard!" His face looks familiar to me, but I can't think of why. I stare at him, trying to think of where I know him from. I eventually give up and smile back at him. He puts out his hand and I shake it.
"I figured you wouldn't remember me, but my name's Brent. I certainly remember you, though." He winks at me, and I instantly know that I've fucked him. Could have been last night, could have been two years ago. I flush and look down, biting my lip.
"What's with the shyness? You weren't last night.." He walks forward, stopping when I can feel his breath on me. I back away, cringing. My back hits the wall, and he walks forward again. My breathing accelerates and I start to look round for something to try and protect myself with.
"Shall we reenact last night?" He's whispering in my ear, his voice low.
"No. I... I've got to, uh.. I've got to go." I squeak out a stuttered sentence, starting to feel slightly sick. He chuckles at my stutters, and presses himself closer to me. I squeak in protest, cowering away.
"C'mon, babe. You'll like it.. No, you'll love it." I shake my head, still looking down. He moves hair out of my face and lifts my head up by my chin.
"Yes." He forces me to look at him, and his eyes are hard. Flashbacks of what's happened before run through my head, rendering me speechless. I swallow hard and shake my head again. His mouth sets into a hard line and he grabs my wrist, causing the bruises on there to sting.
"Well, I say yes. Come on." He pulls me towards the bedroom I just exited. I struggle in his grip, tears filling my eyes.
"Hey! What are you doing, Brent? Get your fucking hands off him!" Never in my life have I been so happy to hear the voice of Craig. Brent sharply drops my wrist, making me stumble slightly. I back away, going closer to Craig. My legs are shaking, like my hands and it's hard to walk.
"Calm the fuck down, Craig." Brent has his hands up in surrender, the cocky attitude disappearing.
"What were you going to do to him?" Brent feigns innocence, and Craig gets angrier.
"I wasn't going to do shit, man." Craig snorts and saunters closer to him.
"Okay, sure. Watch you fucking back, Brent. Try anything else without paying, I'll see to it that you are taken care of, got it?" I can barely make out his words, he's speaking so low and quietly. Brent's terrified and he nods his head frantically. What does Craig mean by Brent having to pay? Am I a fucking prostitute? I almost miss Craig swing for Brent, making him topple to the floor. Craig spits on Brent and walks away.
"Come on, Gerard. Let's go back to my place." I nod and follow Craig like a lost puppy.
We walk through the house. It's a shit hole, there's dirty plates, cups, clothes all over the place. There's also several people here, all men. I walk quickly, not wanting to stay there any longer than I have to.
My head is still throbbing, but I've gotten used to it, so it isn't really bothering me anymore. But, when we step out onto the street, I almost fall over from the pain that goes through my head. I stop and close my eyes, groaning. Craig nudges something into my hands. It's a pair of sunglasses. I slip them on, shooting Craig a grateful smile. We get into his car and drive to his house.
His house is nice. It's not big, but it's not small, either. The grass and the hedges are neatly trimmed, and the house is clean. We walk in, the door being unlocked. The inside is nice, too. It's very white, though. I keep the sunglasses on as we walk up the stairs and into his bedroom.
"Make yourself at home, I'll make us a sandwich. What do you want?" I think for a second before replying, quietly, that I'll just have a cheese one. He nods and starts to walk out. He stops about halfway out the door.
"You cam have a shower if you want. Any of my clothes should fit you, I think."
"Okay. Thanks, Craig." He nods again and walks out. I guess his bathroom is through the door in his room, and I'm right. I stare at the shower for a second, trying to work out how the fuck it works. I eventually figure it out and strip off and step in the shower. The hot water hits me, soothing my achy muscles. I sigh in relief and stand under the water for a second. I then start to wash my hair and shit. I'm done in about ten minutes, a new record for me.
I stare at myself in the mirror. My eyes are vacant. The frown on my face looks like it's going to be there to stay. Even my hair looks heart-broken. I get tired at staring at my pitiful reflection and walk back into his room. Craig's in there, looking through... My phone?
"Hey, is that my phone?" He looks up at me, almost guiltily. He nods and puts it down.
"Yeah, it is. I, uh.. I just turned it on.. It was in my, uh, pocket. You made me look after it last night." I nod and then remember I'm standing in just a towel. I blush and look down, tightening my grip on it. I feel a pair of eyes on me and I look back up at Craig, who's looking me up and down. He licks his lips and then locks eyes with me. He flushes, too, knowing he got caught staring at me. I smile slightly at him, hoping to diffuse the awkward atmosphere.
He jumps up, heading to his closet. He looks through and then hands me some clothes. They're very colorful and I have to hold back my grimace at them. I put them on, finding out that they're also very tight. I feel uncomfortable and spend at least five minutes trying to find a comfortable position in them.
Craig, who still has his back turned, sighs impatiently.
"You done yet, Gerard?" I nod, then I realize he can't see me.
"Yeah.." He spins around and looks at me. He smirks, chuckling slightly.
"I can see why you wear black all the time. Color doesn't really suit you all that well." I blush at his words, thinking that I look ridiculous.
"I mean, you look great, you always do.. It's just, uh... Strange seeing you in color, I guess." He scratches the back of his neck. He thinks I look great? Okay....
I chuckle at his embarrassed state and he turns even redder, his ears even going red.
"Thanks, Craig.." I'm teasing him, making him more flustered.
I sit down on the bed, grabbing my phone. I unlock it, wondering how Craig knows the code. I have about a million messages from Mikey, Ray and even some from Bob. I didn't even know he had my number... The messages are all very similar, all telling me to ring them or text them. One of Bob's makes my eyes widen slightly. It says that Frankie was so worried about me, he even threw up. Why? He was the one that broke up with me, not the other way round.
I look at my calls list. There's one from an unknown number, and apparently we were on the phone for almost twenty five minutes.
"Craig, who rang me last night?" He thinks for a minute, then a smirks forms on his lips.
"Frank." Shit. My face drains of color. Shit.
"Shit. Shit..." My voice is shaky, but Craig keeps smirking.
"Yeah, shit is correct." I look up at him, speechless. I run a hand through my damp hair.
"What did I say? How much does he know?" He chuckles, clapping his hands. He comes and sits by me.
"Well, I answered it. You were.. busy." Shit.
"Anyway, me and him spoke for a while and he asked what you were doing. I may have mentioned some things about fucking guys and stuff..." The smirks on his face has turned slightly evil. I gesture for him to carry on.
"I came and knocked on the door. You came out, half-naked, and spoke to Frank for a few." Shit.
"What..." I clear my throat, trying to make my voice steady. "What did I say?" His smirk grows and he chuckles again.
"You said, and I quote, that you were doing drugs and guys. Oh, and that you were also getting over him." He cracks up, seemingly very amused by my words. I, on the other hand, am not.
I seriously said that to him? Shit. Shit. Shit. I've completely fucked up any chance I had getting back together with him.
"Ah, shit. Craig, this is seriously fucked up! Why the fuck didn't you stop me?" He stops laughing, his eyes going hard.
"I thought you deserved to have some fun, Gerard. Don't fucking blame this on me!" We're both standing up now, tense.
"Well, you gave me the fucking drugs in the first place! It sort of is your fucking fault!" I'm shouting now, extremely angry.
"Fuck off, Gerard! You made me give you them, remember? I didn't have much choice! You came to me, crying, and basically threw money at me!" I clench my fists.
"I didn't come to you! I bumped into you! I'm leaving." I turn and grab my phone, heading out of the door. Suddenly, Craig's words from earlier pop into my head, making me stop short.
"What did you mean earlier when you told Brent that he had to pay?" My voice is slightly ,ore calm now, but I'm still fuming.
"What? Oh... It's nothing." His voice is sharp and dismissive.
"Don't lie to me. Did you turn me into a fucking prostitute or something last night?" I turn around and Craig sighs.
"Okay.. Fine, yeah I did, strictly speaking. You weren't against the idea, though." My anger flares again, and I leap at him. I tackle him to the ground and slam his head onto the floor. I have him pinned down and my breathing's erratic.
"Of course I wouldn't be against the idea! I was out of my fucking face! Ask me now, while I'm sober," He doesn't answer, he just stares past my shoulder. I slam his head into the floor again.
"Go on, Craig. Ask me now, let's see what my fucking answer is." I make my voice deadly calm. trying to intimidate him more. His eyes, that were already wide, widen even more and his chest rises and falls more rapidly.
"Uh... Would you?" I slap him.
"Would I what? Ask me properly, Craig." He gulps and I slap him again. It's more like a punch, though.
"Would you be up for some... prostitution?" His voice is small and shaky. I fight the urge to smirk at his weakness, wanting to keep my face as angry as possible.
"Oh, yeah, of course I would, Craig. Do you want to be my first fucking customer?" I sound serious, and my offer makes his mouth drop open. He then narrows his eyes at me, but I try to look solemn. I smile at him, trying to be seductive. I lean down close, my body relaxing.
"Well, would you?" I whisper into his ear, almost laughing when I see the hairs on his neck rise. He gulps but then hesitantly nods.
"How much have you got?" I'm still whispering into his ear, and I gently kiss the skin beneath it. He reaches a hand down to his pocket and manages to fish out his wallet with me sat on him. He pulls out a fifty, handing it to me. I shake my head, I want more.
"I'm worth a bit more than that... Aren't I?" My voice is low, and he gets out two more fifties from his wallet. I smile at him, taking the money. I shove in into the back pocket of my borrowed jeans and stand up. I pull Craig up, making him stand close to my face. I lean down, teasing him. His breath hitches in his throat and I smirk. My lips brush his, but before he can kiss me back I push him onto the bed.
I walk over to his closet, finding a belt.
"Strip." I make my voice hard, but still with a hint of seductiveness in it. He shakily complies, pulling his clothing off. I stop him when he goes to pull down his boxers and grab his wrists. I loop the belt round them, making them be forced together. I force his arms backwards, hooking them onto a bed-post. Craig's 'little friend' is excited, and I smirk.
"I didn't know you were gay, Craig. You hid that very well..." I climb onto the, crawling towards him. I reach his mouth and kiss him. I don't put a lot of effort into it, but Craig does. I break the kiss, pulling away sharply.
"Close your eyes." He does as he's told and I get up off the bed. I grab my phone and bring the camera up. I take a few picture, holding my laughter in. I walk into the bathroom and fill a jug with cold water. I peek around the doorway, checking if he's still got his eyes closed. He has. I spot his wallet and bend down to pick it up. There are a few fifties and several twenties in there. I take it all.
I walk back over to bed and trail my spare hand up his torso.
"Craig..." He opens his eyes, smiling at me, and I dump the water on him. He gasps, squirming, but he can't get up or anything because of his tied hands. I laugh at him; at his distress.
"What the fuck?" His voice is still breathless from the water. I get my phone again, taking a few pictures.
"Smile!" He looks up at me, his eyes filled with embarrassment and shock. I laugh at him again.
"How do you like that, Craig?" He doesn't answer, but his cheeks go scarlet.
"See you later, good luck explaining this to your mom!" I bend down and kiss his cheek, then I walk out, laughing all the way.

Notes