I Think I Like It

I woke up alone again, and for a moment, in my sleep-ridden brain, I thought I’d dreamt the whole night. It was only when I sat up and realized where I was that it all came flooding back and I smiled.
“Gee?” I called, and got no response. I was almost worried, but then I heard the shower running and laid back down, snuggling into the blankets. They still smelled like him, and I bunched them under my nose, breathing deeply.
“I’m right here, you know.” He said, smiling from the doorway. His hair was pushed back, still wet, and a towel hung loosely around his narrow hips. I chewed my lip and smiled.
“You should’ve woken me up.” I said, stretching. He tilted his head.
“Why?”
“So I could have come in with you.” I laughed. He smiled and shook his head.
“No way, Frankie. I’ve caused way too many accidents that way.” He laughed, walking over to his drawers and pulling clothes out.
“You’ve showered with someone before?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light. He smiled, pulling his boxers on.
“Ah, yeah. A few times. It’s not often I stick around long enough to do that, though.” He said casually. I leaned back, jealousy pressing down on my chest.
“You’ve done a lot of stuff before.” I pointed out. He nodded, slipping his black jeans on.
“How many people have you slept with? Or ah, done anything sexual with?” I asked.
“So, by sex you mean like anything from a handjob to actually getting fucked?” he asked, and I cringed slightly.
“Yeah.” I said. He pursed his lips as he tugged his shirt over his head.
“God, a lot. I think I’ve lost count. Maybe somewhere around eighty? Maybe more. I don’t really pay that much attention.” He laughed. I chewed my lip and looked down, tears filling my eyes. I knew it was stupid and hypocritical for me to cry over this, so I tried not to. I felt his weight on the bed, but didn’t look up.
“You cryin’, Frankie?” he asked softly. I lifted my head and plastered a smile on.
“No.” I said weakly. He rolled his eyes at me.
“You’re jealous.” He said simply. I shrugged.
“A bit.” I mumbled.
“That’s slightly hypocritical of you, isn’t it?” he said coolly, sliding off the bed and walking towards the door. I didn’t reply, because I knew he was right. He stopped just before he reached the door and looked back.
“I’m not the one who has two boyfriends, sweetheart.” He said sharply, sweeping out of the room. My jaw dropped. Did he just use the ‘b’ word?
I climbed out of bed, not caring that I was still naked, and raced after him.
“What did you just say?” I asked breathlessly. He turned around, a knowing smile on his smug little face. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to kiss him or punch him.
“That you have no right to be jealous?” he asked, feigning innocence.
“After that.” I whispered. He smirked and wrapped his arms around my waist.
“You mean about how you have two boyfriends?” he asked. I nodded.
“I thought you said you weren’t-“ I said, but stopped myself. He shook his head and kissed me softly.
“Do we need to label it?” he murmured. I bit my lip, feeling stupid for being so excited.
“Um. No, of course not. We’re a bit old for that, right?” I laughed humorlessly. He rolled his eyes.
“If you’d told me a month ago that dating you would be this complicated…” he said, his eyes twinkling.
“Dating?” I said, beaming at him.
“I didn’t say that.” He said in mock offence. I narrowed my eyes, still smiling.
“Yes you did.” I accused. He walked me backwards until I was pressed against his refrigerator.
“Why are you so keen to label us, darlin’?” he asked.
“It just…makes it more real.” I said. He considered this for a moment, then kissed me. His lips were warm and slightly slippery from his shower, but I didn’t care.
“Then you can call me whatever you want, baby.” He smirked. He pulled away for a moment, his face suddenly serious.
“But whatever you choose to call me, I have to be the only one, okay? It’s fine if you have a boyfriend who…isn’t me. But you can’t call me that as well. You know what I mean?” he asked. I nodded.
“Yeah, I do.” I said solemnly, then beamed,
“Oh darling beautiful boyfriend of mine.” I said, batting my eyelashes. He laughed loudly.
“You’re such a loser.” He chuckled.
“What do you call me then?” I challenged. He thought about it for a while.
“Mine. Not anything in particular, but everything you possibly can be to me. That’s what I refer to you as.” He said softly. I bit my lip.
“Would now be a bad time to tell you that I really, really want to suck your dick?” I asked. He laughed.
“Depends on why you wanna do it.” He said, a hint of seriousness in his eyes. I held both of his hands in mine.
“Because I love you and because I’m happy, and because you look gorgeous with your hair wet.” I said. He shrugged, his hand sliding down his zipper, his teeth catching on his lips.
“I guess I don’t have much of a choice then, do I?” he said. I whimpered and fell to my knees in front of him. He laughed and slid his jeans and boxers down, revealing his half-hard dick hanging heavy between his legs.
“I always forget how big you are until I’m about to suck your dick.” I laughed, a little nervously. He leaned against the counter, his smile amused.
“Does my cock intimidate you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. I giggled.
“Actually, yes.” I said softly. He ran a hand through my hair.
“I won’t hurt you unless you ask me to.” He said, half-serious. I moaned lightly and wrapped my mouth around him. He let out a rough breath and braced himself more firmly against the counter.
“God, baby, you’re so good. Keep doing it like that, sweetheart.” He moaned, his hand resting softly on the top of my head as I took him as far down into my throat as I dared. I knew that going too far would make me choke and, as much as it might amuse him, I really didn’t want to throw up on him. His breath was coming in hard, desperate pants, a whimper rising out of his throat.
“Frank, baby. Fuck. All mine, sweetheart. Your fucking – oh God, fuck – mouth is mine. All of you is mine.” He moaned, his hips bucking forward. I held onto his hip with one hand, lowering myself even further down on him.
“Frankie. Stop. Baby, stop.” He said softly, stroking my cheek. I pulled away straight away, looking up at him. He bit his lip and moaned, his thumb rubbing my swollen lips.
“God, I just want to…just stay like that.” He whispered, his hand pumping his cock in my face. I knew what he was intending to do, and my heart raced at the thought. He leaned back on the arm that was holding him up, his head falling back.
A strangled, broken moan was the only warning I had before I felt the warm, runny liquid shoot out onto my face, running off of my lips and chin onto my neck and chest. He stayed posed like that for a few moments, panting hard, before bringing his head forward and smiling at his work.
“God, you’re amazing.” He whispered, kneeling down in front of me. He kissed my cum-covered lips roughly and I whimpered. He licked his lips and smirked at my bewildered expression.
“I think you need to shower.” He said teasingly, before standing up and walking into the living room, leaving me a disheveled, horny, cum-covered mess on his kitchen floor.

I eventually got managed to drag myself into the shower, and felt a lot better when I got out and back into some clean clothes. I joined Gerard where he sat on the sofa, a pair of reading glasses on and a pile of papers on his lap.
“What’cha doing?” I asked. He smiled at me fondly.
“Marking papers.” He sighed, pouting. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and started playing a game on my phone.
“That sucks, dude.” I laughed. He narrowed his eyes at me.
“So do you.” He quipped. I rolled my eyes, smiling, and turned my attention back to the game.
“Do your damn marking.” I mumbled.
“I would if you’d stop being an annoying little brat.” He smiled. I shrugged.
“Don’t use me as an excuse for not wanting to get your shit done.” I said, smiling. He sighed and set the papers down, taking his glasses off and setting them on top of them. He rubbed his eyes tiredly.
“Caught me.” He said, kissing me gently.
“I always do.” I said. He rolled his eyes and got to his feet, making his way towards the kitchen.
“I’m gonna make coffee, want some?” he asked casually. I pursed my lips.
“You got any food?” I called. He came out of the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe, smiling at me adoringly.
“I could make you somethin’.” He said warmly.
“Nah, don’t bother.” I said.
“No, it’s fine. I could go for a sandwich.” He said, and I agreed. He disappeared into the kitchen and I smiled. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so damn comfortable. Right now, there was no Cameron, no law, no ‘Mr. Way’. Just the man I loved. This, I realized, was us. This was our love, and our…relationship. My heart jumped at the word (after all, he had given me permission to use it).
He returned minutes later bearing two plates with sandwiches, handed me one, and set the other down, before going into the kitchen and retrieving two mugs of coffee. He dropped down next to me and leaned forward expectantly.
“Thank you Gerard.” I said in a mocking sing-song voice, kissing him. He smiled and pulled away.
“You little shit.” He chuckled, digging into his sandwich. Again, I was hit with a wave of pure contentedness. I could sit here, eating sandwiches and drinking coffee with him in his house forever and never get bored. I wanted to wake up and see him with his stupid sleepy smile and hair sticking everywhere, and fall asleep with him curled around me. I wanted to walk downstairs and see him with his adorable glasses on, marking papers, and to distract him from them. I wanted to lie on the sofa and eat dinner while watching bad horror movies, and above all else, I wanted to be the only person he made coffee and sandwiches for, for the rest of our lives.
I didn’t realize I’d been staring at him until he smiled shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear self-consciously.
“What?” he asked.
“I’m in love with you.” I said softly. I’d said it a hundred times, surely, but this time it seemed to hold more weight, and hung in the air around us, like I’d been deaf for 18 years and was finally able to hear.He ducked his head, biting his lip, and when he looked up, his eyes were shining with tears.
“I love you too, darlin’.” He said, his voice higher than normal. He wiped his eyes with his thumb and laughed, embarrassed. I leaned back and just stared at him.
“Stop lookin’ at me like that.” He said shyly.
“How’s your back?” I asked. He laughed.
“Painful as fuck. You tore me up pretty bad.” He said, running a hand through his hair.
“You didn’t do much better.” I said, gesturing to the swollen, purple bruises lining my collarbones and throat. He took my empty plate from me and rose to his feet, walking back towards the kitchen.
“Stop being such a little bitch and put a movie on.” He said. I chuckled to myself and pulled out another bad-looking movie (Blood Feast or something like that) and slid it into the player. He dropped down next to me, gave my arm a quick squeeze, and put his glasses back on, pulling the papers back onto his lap.
“I really need to do this, love.” He said, squeezing my thigh. I nodded, understanding.
“Yeah, no problem. I’ll just watch this piece of cinema gold.” I said, smiling. He looked up and smiled back, the TV glinting off of the frame of his glasses.
“I’ll make it up to you, okay? We’ll go out for dinner or something.” He said. I bit my lip.
“We can’t really, can we?” I said softly.
“We can if we go somewhere out of town.” He murmured, not looking up from his papers. I beamed and kissed his cheek. He groaned and pushed me away.
“But only if you let me get these damn papers marked.” He said, a ghost of a smile playing around his lips. I rolled my eyes, but let him get on with his work.

He did end up getting his work done, despite me constantly bugging him for attention. He rolled his eyes and pushed me away a lot, muttering about how I was annoying him, but I knew he secretly loved it, so I did it more, and I’d never seen him so happy.
“C’mon angel.” He called from the bottom of the stairs. I ran my hand through my hair one more time and bounded down the stairs, into his waiting arms.
“So, where are we going?” I asked as he locked the house and took my hand.
“Well, me and Mikey, we used to live in this little town about an hour away, and there’s this restaurant our Grandma used to take us to. I checked, and it’s still there, so if you want-“
“Yeah, that sounds great. Are you gonna be okay going there, though?” I asked, chewing my lip. He smiled at me warmly as we slid into the car.
“Yeah. I’ve been there since the accident, and it was fine. I guess it’ll just be better to go there with you.” He said, putting one hand on my knee as he pulled out of the driveway.
We were silent for a few minutes, the radio playing softly in the background, before he spoke.
“I know we haven’t done much, but these last two days have been amazing.” He said, grinning. I smiled and nodded.
“Yeah. I can’t imagine going back home and having to sleep without you.” I said sadly. His thumb rubbed my leg softly.
“I know. My bed’s gonna smell like you and everything.” He laughed sadly.
“My clothes smell like you.” I replied and he smiled a little bit. He paused for so long that I thought the conversation was over before he spoke again.
“What are you planning to do after school?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I’m good at music, I might start a band or somethin’.” I shrugged.
“Are you planning on moving out?” he asked.
“Maybe. I don’t want to leave Mom, but I really want to get my own place and do my own thing. I guess I’ll have to see how I feel when I get there.”
“Right.” He said, smiling weakly.
“Why?”
“Huh?”
“Why do you ask?”
“No reason. It’s dumb.” He laughed flippantly, turning the radio up slightly.
“Just tell me.” I said firmly. He sighed.
“I don’t know. Just, the way we were today made me wonder what it’d be like to live with you. Y’know, perminantly. I mean, I know we haven’t been together for long, but we’ve known each other for years and-. I don’t know. I just, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I really, really want that, Frank.” He said, turning his head slightly to look at me.
“I want that too.” I said, emotion choking me.
“I guess it’s not really plausible though, right?” he asked.
“Yes it is.I mean, it might be awkward to explain to people but I won’t be your student anymore, so it won’t be illegal.”
“Maybe, sweetheart.” He said, squeezing my leg. I was slightly disappointed, but I didn’t say anything, I just looked out the window and watched as the road slipped past us.
“It’s beautiful up here.” I commented. He smiled.
“Yeah. Mikes and I used to get the bus down here on weekends with our parents and Grandma, and we’d just all go shopping or get food, or whatever. We could do it in our town, of course, but I was just nice to get away from all of it and go somewhere a bit bigger. It feels a bit ironic now.” He laughed.
“How’s Mikey doing?” I asked softly.
“Not great. He’s stable, which is good, but they have no idea if he’ll wake up.” He said, his voice shaking.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” I murmured.
“No, I’m glad you did.” He reassured me.
“It must be hard.”
“It is. My parents don’t really want to talk about it, so I just have to deal with it alone. I see him every week, bring him flowers and comic books and stuff for when he wakes up. They say he can probably hear me, so sometimes I sing to him or read him stories or-“ he broke off suddenly.
“What?” I asked. He smiled fondly.
“Recently I’ve taken to telling him about you. What you were wearing, the colour of your eyes, funny things you say. I like to think that he’d want to meet you when he wakes up.” He said, his voice distant.
“I’m sure he appreciates it.” I say, not sure of what else to say.
“He’s my best friend, you know? He’d be so pissed if I ran off and fell in love and didn’t tell him.” He said, laughing.
“You say that like it hasn’t happened before.” I said.
“It hasn’t.” he said softly. I felt shocked, but knew now wasn’t the time to talk about it. I was his first love? That seemed ridiculous, but I found myself believing him.
“You should come with me next week to see him.” He said suddenly.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea?”
“Yes. And even if it’s not, I don’t care. If he really can hear me, then I want him to be able to hear you, too. I don’t know if I can deal with the two most important people in my life not meeting.” He said. I nodded.
“Okay, just let me know when.” I said, and he beamed at me.
“Thanks, sweetheart.” He murmured, probably trying to hide the steady flow of tears pouring down his face. I pretended to not notice to save him the embarrassment.
He stopped the car outside of a cosy looking restaurant – probably family owned.
“Okay, enough sadness. Let’s go have a great first date, eh?” he said with a wink. I shook my head and followed him out of the car.
“So you screw before the first date?” I teased. He laughed.
“I don’t normally make it to the first date, so feel special.” He retorted. I couldn’t really argue with that.

As I expected, the place was just as warm on the inside as it looked on the outside. We were greeted by a young woman who beamed when she saw Gerard.
“Hey stranger, haven’t seen you around in a while.” She beamed. He ducked his head and laughed.
“Been busy, Lucy, sorry.” He said. She shook her head in mock disapproval.
“Try harder. Who’s this?” she asked, gesturing to me. Gerard took my hand.
“This is Frank.”
“Is he your boyfriend?” she asked. He paused for a moment.
“I’m his boyfriend. He’s just my… I don’t know. He’s mine.” He said and she smiled softly. She looked at me and smiled.
“Hopeless romantic, this one.” She said and he playfully pushed her.
“C’mon then, table for one boyfriend and one ‘I don’t know.’ “ she said. I liked her, she was bubbly and didn’t judge, even though she could probably tell that I was way too young to be dating someone like Gee. Once we sat down and she’d taken our orders (Gerard ordered for me, saying that he knew what was good here), she smiled at Gerard.
“I’m gonna go get Ma. She’d kill me if she knew I’d seen you and hadn’t told her.” She said brightly. He blushed and laughed.
“Well, we can’t have that.” He smiled, and she bounced away. He held my hand from across the table.
“Sorry. They kinda all know me here.”
“Do you bring people here a lot?” I asked nervously. He rolled his eyes at me.
“No, don’t be ridiculous. This is special. Stop being so jealous.” He teased, nudging my foot under the table.

Our food was brought by a short, slightly plump old woman, her hair tied back in a bun. She looked like the classical description of a kind old Grandma.
“Gerry!” she cried as she put the food down, pulling him into what looked like a bone-crushing hug. He laughed and kissed her on the cheek.
“Hey Gladys. This is Frank.” He said gesturing to me. Her eyebrows raised.
“Isn’t he a bit young, Ger?” she asked, smiling at me. He laughed, his face reddening.
“Sure is, M’am.” He said, squeezing my hand. I forced a smile.
“How much younger?” she asked.
“19 years.” He said, smiling sheepishly. She raised her eyebrows even further and looked appraisingly at me.
“Well done.” She murmured, smiling warmly at me.
“You be nice to him, Frank. He’s a little darling.” She said, patting his shoulder. I smiled for real this time.
“Yeah, he is.” I said, feeling my stomach drop with guilt, because I was being far from nice to him. In fact, I was putting him in a lot of pain. Constantly.
“How’s Michael doing?” she asked. Gerard smiled.
“He’s stable, thanks. We’re going to see him next week, I’ll tell him you said hi.”
“Can he really hear you?” she asked sadly. Gerard nodded.
“That’s what they tell me. Apparently his brain becomes more responsive and his heart rate picks up whenever I talk to him. Even more when I sing.” He laughed, scratching his neck. Gladys smiled warmly.
“I’m glad. Anyway, enjoy your food boys.” She said, waddling away.
“Sorry again.” He laughed.
“Don’t be. It’s nice.” I assured him, and he smiled, turning his attention to his food. It was some kind of chicken salad, and it tasted amazing – obviously home made and fresh. He smiled as he watched me enjoying my food before turning to his own.

I’d hoped we’d have time to do something else together, but my Mom wanted me home by 9, and by the time we got back to Gerard’s place, we just didn’t have the time. Too soon, we were sitting in his car, three houses down from mine.
“I don’t want you to go. Just stay here and we’ll run away.” He said, kissing my jaw.
“Please. Gerard, fuck, just take me somewhere. Let’s just fucking go.” I breathed, holding his hands as they slid up and down my arms. He sighed and rested our foreheads together.
“Some day, angel. I promise.”
“I love you so much.” I breathed, reality starting to seep into the warmth that this weekend had caused. He brushed his hand along my cheekbone.
“I love you too. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“I’ll miss you.”
“It’s only like 12 hours.”
“I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too.” He said, smiling sadly. I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut.
“Am I doing the right thing? With Cameron?” I asked. He sighed.
“I hate it, and you know that, but I know it’s a necessary evil. If you can keep it up for another few weeks, even, we’ll be able to do stuff like this all the time.”
“It just makes me so stressed and confused…” I breathed. He held my hands and smiled.
“I’m not worried at all. I know that I’m complicated and fucked up and…I don’t know. But I know that you’ll choose me every time. Don’t ask me how, I just know. You and I are immutable.” He murmured, kissing me softly.
“You’re such a romantic.” I teased.
“Tomorrow.” He whispered.
“Tomorrow.” I said, smiling against his lips. I pressed another quick kiss to his mouth and slid out of his car before I could change my mind.

Notes

Fluff makes me happy. Domestic fluff makes me happier.

It looks like I won't be able to post for the next couple days, so I hope you enjoy this! :) Keep commenting because it's my favourite thing. <3