Beautiful Fool

The strangest feeling is not yet loving someone, but knowing you soon will. Having it only be a matter of time until they’re all that matters, until your life is changed. Sometimes, destroyed.
By the time you realize this, I figure it’s often too late.
That is how I felt as I weaved down the street with Gerard’s weight pressed down on me, his arm wrapped around my shoulders, mine around his waist. He mumbled and moaned and said things that made little sense. I wanted nothing more than to help him, and I felt pain for his pain.
“Oh no,” he mumbled, still a few blocks from my apartment. He pushed away from me and fell to his knees. He doubled over and only a few seconds later his vomit was slapping the ground.
“Oh no,” I agreed. I rubbed his back until he was empty. He looked up at me.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice wavering, “I’ll get better.”
I helped him back to his feet and brought his arm around my shoulder, “I know you will,” I said.
He sighed deeply against me and we kept walking. We made our way slowly but he seemed to be doing better after the last sick spell. We arrived at my building and I helped him up the six flights of stairs. He didn’t say much, he seemed to be somewhere else in his mind. He stared dazed ahead and lifted one leg after the other and I stood behind him, for the most part, to make sure he didn’t fall. I wondered where his mind was at, what was he thinking about as he stared straight ahead?
Outside my door he leaned against the wall and turned his gaze to me.
“Frank,” he said. Not like a question, or wanted to say anything more. Just as if he wanted to say my name.
“Gerard.”
“Hm,” he mumbled. He didn’t say anything else.I let him into my apartment and he walked to the center and stood there while I milled about turning up the lamps (and trying to hide some of the messes I had yet to clean.)
I turned and looked at him. He had that vacant look in his eyes still, standing in the center of the room. He wavered slightly. He didn’t even notice me watching. He looked awful. Covered in filth, circles under his red and heavy eyes.
“Gerard,” I said. He flicked his eyes to me.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know, it’s alright.”
“No. It’s not.” He slouched forward and pressed his face into my neck. The feeling of his warm breath on my skin raised the hair all over my body. I wrapped my arms around him. Then, he pressed a soft kiss to my neck and I tried not to moan. It was a light kiss, and then he pressed another one higher up on my neck, harder this time.
“Gerard,” I said.
He pressed another kiss, higher even, on my jaw.
And then he sighed deeply and pressed his forehead back down onto my shoulder.
“I’m going to draw you a bath,” I said.
He didn’t say anything. I put my hand on the small of his back and guided him into the bathroom. I stepped in front of him and turned on the water. I could still feel where he had kissed me, the tingling feeling on my skin. I wanted more. I wanted to turn around and press him to the wall. I wanted to undress and climb into the bath with him, or the bed. But I knew now was not the time, not after this night, not with him in this condition.
“O.K. I’ll just fill the tub, and I’ll, uh, leave the room and you can get undressed. I think I have some extra pajamas you can borrow, uh, I’ll give you some privacy.” I said, checking the temperature and setting the bar of soap back on the side of the tub. I stood and pulled a towel from the shelf and placed that on the stand beside the tub.
I turned to look at Gerard and found him before me, shirtless and in his underwear. His pants were crumpled at his feet.
“Oh,” I said. I tried to ignore the tightening in my pants.
He struggled to get his feet free from his pants and stumbled. I grabbed onto his arms. He stilled.
“Lift up one foot,” I said.
He did.
“Now the other.”
He did. I stepped him away from his pants.
“Sit here,” I said he sat down on the edge of the tub. I leaned down and untied his shoes and pulled them and his socks off. He slouched pathetically where he sat.
“Gee,” I said.
He looked down at me and smiled a little, “Gee, I like that.”
I smiled lightly at him and placed my hands on his knees. I rubbed my hands up and down on his thighs.
“Do you need help getting into the tub?” I asked.
He didn’t answer.
“O.K., stand up darlin’.”
He complied.
He was thin and pale and lovely. I wanted to touch every part of his soft skin, but knew I couldn’t. Knew this couldn’t be like that now. I put my hands on his hips and I felt a shiver go through him. He felt so warm beneath my hands. Without thinking, I leaned forward and pressed my lips softly to his collarbone. He tilted his head to the side and let out a soft moan.
I pulled away and he looked down at me. He was still vacant looking, but he flicked his eyes to me and he smiled.
“There you are,” I said.
He was blushing a little bit.
“I’m going to pull down your underwear,” I said.
He nodded and looked down and away.
I tried not to look at him while I pulled them down and let them fall around his ankles. None of it was how I would want it. None of it was romantic or sexy. It was necessary. I helped him step into the bathtub and he sunk down. He sighed into the heat and leaned his head back against the tub, eyes closed.
And he looked beautiful again. Peaceful. Wild hair and long eyelashes.
“O.K. Gee,” I said, “here is the soap. I’m going to go find those pajamas.”
He opened his eyes and nodded. I left the bathroom door open so I could hear if he needed anything. I rifled through my drawers until I found the one’s I was looking for. They were a little too big for me, so they might fit his tall frame.
I then put a pot of tea on to boil and filled a glass with water. I put the water by the bed and then went back into the bathroom with the pajamas. He was leaning back against the tub and he looked up at me.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hey.”
I sat on the edge of the tub and brushed the hair out of his eyes. He grabbed my hand and held my palm to his cheek. He closed his eyes.
It was in this moment I truly believed I loved it.
My heart pounded and I felt my throat constrict. I had known the man for 24 hours, and this was it for me. 24 hours in and I was long gone. How does that happen? Is that even possible?
No one falls in love like that. This isn’t like the books I’ve read, or the songs I’ve played. Real life isn’t like that.
But Gerard, laying naked in my bathtub, his hair half-wet and his eyes closed, my hand to his cheek, this was an image that made me question everything.
He opened his eyes and smiled a little. He looked more like himself, like maybe he was coming back form the drunken haze.
“Ready to get out? I made tea.”
He nodded.
I grabbed the towel and unfolded it and held it open. He pushed himself to his feet and took the towel from me.
“Are you feeling a little more stable?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“O.K., I put the pajamas there. Go ahead and get dressed. There’s mouth wash on the sink. I’m going to finish the tea.”
“Alright.”
I hesitated before leaving and looked him over, standing there in nothing but a towel. Then I sighed and left the bathroom again, pulling the door half closed behind me. The kettle began to whistle so I hurried over and pulled it off the stove. While the tea was steeping I pulled out a loaf of bread and buttered a few pieces. I stood at the sink and stared out the window. The city was still alive all around us, and the open window let in a soft warm breeze. It felt good.
What was happening here? What was I going to do about the man in my apartment, the one I was dangerously close to loving… or already loved. It’s a hazy, muddled area, the one around love.
I heard the bathroom door open and I turned to see Gerard standing (wavering) in the doorway, watching me. The shirt was too big for him, hanging off of him loosely, and the pants were too short and stopped mid-calf. He looked sort of silly.
“I made tea and I have some bread,” I said, smiling.
“Thank you.” He rubbed the back of his head and smiled a little back at me.
I gestured to the bed,”sit.”
I brought the tea over and handed him a cup as he settled in against the headboard. I put the plate of bread between us and I sat across from him. He took a sip of tea.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
Gerard shrugged. The tips of his hair were wet and clung to his neck and cheeks. He took another sip and then picked up a piece of bread and nibbled on the corner. “I was leaving,” he said suddenly.
“What?”
“Tonight, I was leaving. I was just going to go home and calm down. On my way out I ran into one of my old friends, someone I haven’t seen since I quit drinking. He insisted I stick around and have a drink with him. I told myself not to, don’t give in. But I was already upset and I could feel myself spiraling. Sometimes I just spiral down, and it just gets so dark in here,” he pointed to his head and then took another sip of his tea.
“Then what happened?”
“Then after a drink he left, and I stayed. I just drank and drank and drank,” he said. His eyes were welling but he wouldn’t let them spill over. “I can’t stop once I start, Frank. I try but I just can’t stop.”
I nodded slowly and reached my hand out to his knee and rested it there.
“I understand the darkness, I get that too. Sometimes it just feels like I’m out of control because of it.”
He nodded, “exactly. I lose it. Then I tell myself drinking will help. It never does. Sometimes it slows things down, but it never fixes the darkness.”
I kept my hand on his knee and rubbed slow circles with my forefinger.
“Tom really upset you with what he said.”
“If you haven’t noticed, I’m not entirely comfortable with, uh, my sexuality,” he said and took another bite from his bread.
“Are you ashamed?” I asked.
“Aren’t you?”
I thought for a few moments and watched him drink his tea and finish his slice of bread. “No, I’m not.”
“Why?”
“A few reasons, I suppose. Mainly, I came to the conclusion I can’t hate myself for that. Hating myself for who I am, that’s exhausting. Secondly, uh-“ I looked down.
“What?” he asked.
“Well, I couldn’t possibly be ashamed for how I’m feeling about you.”
Gerard bit his lip and looked down.
“You’re really wonderful,” he said. He finished his tea and put the cup down on the nightstand. He leaned back against the headboard. “I have spent so long hating myself. Hating that I can’t like women. I’ve tried, you know. I’ve tried so hard. I even married, straight out of high school.”
“Really?” I felt selfish, because I was excited to be getting to know Gerard. I wasn’t happy about what he was telling me. My heart ached for him, but I also didn’t want him to stop talking. Every word he spoke was bringing me closer to him.
He nodded slowly and sighed, “she was a lovely girl. She was fine. Listen to me, using the word fine to describe my ex-wife,” he shoot his head, “anyway, thought I could make it work. But when I was twenty I ran away from it all. Went from Minnesota, to Jersey, to Paris. Never went back.”
“That’s why you haven’t spoken to your family,” I said.
“Yes. I still speak to my brother. He’s the only one who will have anything to do with me. Especially after-“ he broke off and looked away from me.
“After what?”
“After, um… After my suicide attempt. When I was twenty-one. I had loose contact with my family until I did that. That was enough for them to turn their backs.”
“When you needed them most.” My heart sank. The imagine of him, lying in a hospital bed with no one there to love him. I pushed the thought away.
“I never wanted to die so badly.”
“I’m glad you didn’t die,” I said, almost without thinking. I rubbed my hand over his leg and he looked up at me and smiled lightly.
“I’m feeling very sleepy,” he said.
“O.K.,” I said, “I’ll sleep on the couch, but if you need anything let me know,” I said. I began to get to my feet.
“Frank?” He was biting his lip again.
“Hm?”
“Can, um, can you stay?”
“Stay? I’ll be right over there,” I said and pointed to the couch that was somewhat out of place on the other side of the room.
“Right here, I mean.”
“In the bed?”
He nodded.
“Of course.” My stomach twisted.
I took the remaining bread into the kitchen and when I turned around he was already slipping under the covers. My chest swelled looking at him, his black hair against the white pillow, snuggling into my blankets.
I walked around and turned the lamps down and then climbed into the bed. My heart was pounding in my chest. I nestled in and we laid in the dark without moving or saying anything for several moments. I was hyperaware of his body beside mine, just inches from me, of his warmth.
“Frankie?” Gerard said, quietly.
“Hm, Frankie. I like that,” I said. I looked over and I could hardly see him, just a light outline created by the lights from outside.
“Can you hold me?” He was almost so quiet I couldn’t hear him.
“Gladly,” I said. I rolled onto my side and opened my arms, “come here.”
He scooted over into my arms and pressed his face into my neck. He sighed deeply and his breath ran over my skin. I rubbed and arm up and down his back.
“You’re beautiful,” I whispered.
“Don’t say that,” he said.
“O.K., but I mean it. Even where you think you’re ugly, you’re beautiful. And you have nothing to be ashamed about.”
“Thank you, Frank.” He pressed a kiss into my neck. I shifted and kissed the top of his head. He sighed again and pressed further into me.
We were quiet for a long time. I was sure he had fallen asleep, and I was wide awake. The sound of the city was just beyond the windows and walls but to me, this was all there was left in the world. I startled when he spoke.
“Frank?”
“Yes, Gee?”
“The fifth thing about me? You said you wanted five things.”
“Mhm?”
“I’m glad I didn’t die before I met you.”

Notes

Hi friends!

Thank you for reading! And again, for all the comments and subs and ratings. It's so much fun for me to see people enjoying this as much as I am enjoying writing it. Keep 'em coming, they make my day :)

-Me