I Feel Your Touch In My Colours

Gerard slides down the wall, his fingers tearing at his hair, ripping it from his scalp. "Do you love me?" He cries, "Do you? Do you love me?"

Frank watches as Gerard hits the ground sobbing, kneeling before him, he watches Gerard shatter as does his heart. "Of course I do. Of course, of course I love you."

"I don't feel it! I don't feel it Frank! Why? Why don't I feel it?" Gerard wails, his fingers scrabbling and clinging to Frank's shirt.

Frank leans forward, placing his hands on his lovers tear stained cheeks. "You don't need too. You don't need to feel my love, Gerard."

Gerard sniffles and falls forward, his head slipping into the crook of Frank neck as the tears run down and soak Frank's collar. "You need to feel your own love. Your own love for me."

Gerard looks up at Frank and places his hand tenderly over the left breast pocket of Frank's dress shirt. "Right there," he whispers, "that's where I feel you."
He trails his fingertips up to the centre of Franks chest, "there too, when you hold me at night." His hand slides down resting over Frank's stomach, "when you laugh, cook, dance, that's where I feel it."
Gerard takes hold of Frank's hand and sniffles, "when i touch you. In my fingertips is where I feel it."

Frank looks down at Gerard's bony hands, a small tear slipping and landing on the pale flesh wrapped around his fingers. Gerard squeezes, and brings his hand up to his mouth, kissing each one of Frank's knuckles. "When I paint I feel you. I feel your touch in my colours. Frankie, I do feel it. I feel your love. In the strokes, the lines, the shades, you're there, always."

Frank kisses Gerard, his dry lips needy and fretful against Gerard wet salty ones. He can taste Gerard; his art, his love, his passion. Frank feels it as Gerard's hands rest on his waist and trail around to his back, pulling him closer, flush against Gerard's heaving chest.

"Where," Gerard whimpers breaking away, "where do you feel me Frankie?"

Frank rests his forehead against Gerard's breathing into his face and drying the tears on his cheeks. "On my shoulders. In my chest. My stomach. Like a weight. Like something I have to carry. But without that it, I'd be missing something, I'd need that weight there to remind me, if it were gone I might forget."

"Forget what?"

Frank looks down at the raised skin along the underside of his arm. The healed skin. The ugliness of the raised white line. Thick and wrong. Gerard trails his finger along the scar, sending tingling jolts through his arm. Frank smiles at Gerard gentle innocence, the purity of his fingers as they trail along the reminder of Frank's mistakes. He looks up catching the tears in Gerard's eyes as they swell and threaten to fall. Kissing Gerard's nose gently he feels them drop and land on his cheeks. His lips leave Gerard's warm skin and warp into a smile as he whispers, "forget why I'm still here."

Notes

I don't know how I feel about this. I wrote it, and I don't regret it, but I'm not sure I understand it either. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless xx