Forget About The Dirty Looks.

The kiss is slow, and soft; hesitant but steady. He pulls away, too soon in my opinion. He smiles at me; a shy, loving smile, that makes me smile right back at him. He looks away, blushing and chuckles. He sighs; not a tired, sad one, but a happy light one.
"Oh, Frankie..." He's still smiling and looks at me through his hair. I think he's embarrassed.Embarrassed but happy.
"Oh, Gee..." I copy him, smiling slightly. He chuckles and yawns. He lays back on the bed and motions me to join him. I apparently lie too far away, because Gerard grabs my arm and waist and pulls me to him, putting an arm around me. I lie on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.
He sighs again, one corner of his mouth pulled up
"What are you so happy at?" I ask him and he looks at me his smile widening, completely ignoring my question, he asks one of his own.
"Frankie, do you want to be my boyfriend? You don't have to, I just really like you, and I want to be something more to you than just a friend." He says this earnestly, his eyes wide. I nod, smiling so big I think my face is going to split in half. He feels my nod before he can see it, I think. He smiles wide too, and pecks my nose, stroking my arm.
"Frankie, is now a bad time to ask you why you were crying the other day?" His heartbeat has picked up speed, so I think he's nervous. I tense and he feels it, he strokes my hair instead, and I calm.
"Well, I think you should know, so I'll explain. Sorry if I stutter or anything." I take a deep breath and sit up, I clear my throat.
"Ever since I was twelve, we've been moving houses, a lot. The police says it's to, uh, protect us."I have to stop, to swallow, because there's a lump in my throat. Gerard, as soon as I say protect, snaps his head round to me. He looks slightly angry.
"Pr-protect you from what, Frankie?" His voice, although soft, has a certain edge to it.
"My, my, um, Dad. Well, he's not my dad. Not really, not anymore, he's just part of the sequence that brought me here." I swallow again, and Gerard's eyes tighten, he now looks even angrier.
"He lost his job, and got angry and bitter. I was apparently one or two at the time, so I don't remember. He didn't hurt me, not at first, I guess even he thought that was wrong. My mom got the worst of it at first, till I was about five. He came to pick me up from school, probably drunk. I was telling him about school, and he probably wasn't even listening, but I started talking about this new boy. I can't even remember his name, but I kept saying things about him, how he was cute, cool. All sorts of things. He's really, really homophobic and can't stand it when somebody is gay, not even his own child. He pulled over, on the freeway, and pinned me up against the door", I let out a chocked sob and my voice shakes, but I force my self to carry on. "The seat-belt was digging into my throat, so was his hand. I was struggling to breath and kept shouting 'Daddy, stop. I'm sorry' but he squeezed tighter. He was shouting at me, cursing at me, and still squeezing. He let go, and started to hit me. Not as hard as he could have done, but enough to make me nearly unconscious. He suddenly slams my head into the car window, and that's all I can remember. I woke up in bed, my mom and dad arguing. Slaps and plates and things were breaking, I just curled up into a ball in the back of the wardrobe until I fell asleep." I glance at Gerard and notice he's shaking, and reaching up a hand, he strokes at my cheek, and I realize he's wiping away tears I didn't even know I had shed
"Oh, Frankie, I'm so sorry" He shakes his head a tear trailing down his face. I carry on, wanting to tell him it all.
"It got gradually worse past then. He hurt us regularly. I never even glanced the boy's way again. I don't remember it all clearly, just snippets. But I have the scars, so I know it happened. My mom was emotionally abused, physically abused. He ruined her, and I couldn't stop him. I hated her for a while, because I didn't understand why she didn't tell somebody about it. He used his belt, cigars, blades et cetera on me. It went on until I was about twelve, nearly thirteen, I think. He came in drunk as usual, and made me get his beer. Long story short, I tripped, nearly died, and my mom beat him half to death with a frying pan or something. I ended up in hospital, and he'd disappeared. We moved, like seven times every year at one point, it got better, the police helped us more, but we don't feel any safer. He got, he got, uh, spotted the other day. That's what I was crying about. He was only thirty minutes away. He could have got us, Gerard! I don't want to move again. I like it here. I have you, Mikey, Ray, Bob, more than I've had in a while" I finish, crying and breathing heavy. Gerard wraps his arms around me, whispering sweet nothings to me. When I calmed down, he asked me a question I hate.
"Can I see your scars, Frankie?" His voice comes out in a pleading, broken whisper and I take my shirt off. There are more on my legs, but these are the worst of them.
Gerard reaches out as if to touch me, but stops halfway.
"Oh, god, Frankie. Oh my, God. Poor, poor Frankie." Hes voice breaks four times in that sentence, and more tears fall from his eyes. He reaches out, again. This time he touches them. He trace them, one by one. He pulls me to him and wraps his arms around my torso. I can feel his breath on my side, and I shiver, goosebumps covering my skin.
When he pulls away, his eyes are angry.
"If I ever find him, Frankie, I will fucking kill him. I will cut him open and make him eat his organs, one by one. Nobody hurts My Frankie." His words should freak me out, make me cringe. Instead, they make me smile, and laugh.
"I wish you all the luck in the world, Gee, I really do. I've fantasized about killing him, so be my guest. I'll even help you bury the body, if you want?" He chuckles, his eyes warming up again. "Frankie, he's your dad. Of course I'll let you help bury his dead body with me. Might even let you help me kill him, if your good" He winks and I chuckle, and blush.
I yawn and pull my shirt back on. My skinny jeans are getting uncomfortable, and I'm getting more tired by the second. Spilling your guts sure takes a lot out of you, that's for sure.
I sit on the bed and wriggle about, uncomfortable. Gerard notices, and asks if I want to borrow some pajamas. I nod, grateful to get out of these.
When he goes to get some, he has to bend down giving me a mighty fine view of his ass. Realizing I'm checking him out, I blush.
"Frankie, darling, stop staring at my ass, please" He turns and smirks, winking teasingly. I blush and stutter, trying to deny it. He shakes his head, and throws the pajamas at me.
"I've checked you out, too, Frankie. Quite a few times in fact, it's nothing to be embarrassed about." He chuckles again, and I blush, again.
I change, well aware of Gerard's eyes looking at me. Blushing I go to lie on the floor. Before I can, Gerard pulls me next to him, and snakes an arm around me. I sigh in content, feeling safe for the first time in a while, and put my head on his chest, his steady heartbeats lulling me to sleep.


A nightmare wakes me up. I thrash around, tangled in sheets, trying desperately to get out. I can't breathe; I can't fucking breathe. I can feel Gerard next to me sat up trying to get me out as well. He's frantic, I'm frantic. I finally get my head out, and the rest of my body follows. In the struggle I fall out of bed. I lie on the cold floor and try to get my emotions in check. It doesn't work. I feel a wetness on my cheeks, blood in my mouth. I must have bit my tongue or something. I'm hyperventilating, having a full-blown panic attack. I'm whining and whimpering. Gerard sits next to me.
No, I'm on his lap. How did I not notice?
He rocks me, and kisses my face repeatedly. My nose, cheeks, forehead, ears. After about ten minutes of continuous rocking, kisses and calming noises my crying subsides, my breathing calms; so does my heartbeat.
I feel wide awake. There's no way I can go back to sleep. That nightmare was the worst in two years. The pictures are fading, but the feelings and emotions aren't. I can still feel his hands gripping my throat, belt whipping my back. This time, though, there was somebody new in the dream, and that made it worse. Gerard was there, too, and though I couldn't see him I could fucking hear him. The cries of pain, the pleading; my heart starts pounding again, my breathing picking up speed. I whimper, and tears leak from my closed eyes. Gerard tenses and rubs my back, holding me close.
His heart is beating fast, too. I must have terrified him with my little display. I wouldn't blame me if he kicked me out right now, deciding he didn't want anything to do with me.
"You're not going to kick me out, are you? I'm sorry. I didn't think, the nightmares, I just, I-I just.. Please don't make me go! I feel safe with you. I-I'm sorry you had to, uh, see that."
My voice comes out small, weak and terrified.
"Frankie. Frankie, listen to me! I'm not going to kick you out, why'd you think that? I lov- I, uh, really like you, and that would be a shitty thing to do to your boyfriend, wouldn't it?" He half smiles, trying to cheer me up. I smile back, albeit weakly, just to make him worry less.
I check the time; almost ten to four. I can tell Gerard's tired and get up, grabbing his hand and pulling him up. He's dead on his feet, and I get on the bed, pulling him down with me. I grab the duvet from off the floor and cover us with it. Gerard is partially on my lap and my arms are around his waist. He lazily smiles, seemingly content with the position. He shifts slightly and puts his head on my chest, presumably finding my heartbeat.
Slowly, his breathing steadies out; he's asleep. Feeling a bit tired myself, I lie down a bit more and listen to Gerard's breathing drifting off myself, smiling as I do.

Notes

So, I managed to update today. Hope you enjoy it! Comment, let me know what you think. I'll try and update tomorrow, but no promises xo