Touch Him Again, And I'll Kill You

“You don’t get to treat me like this, Max. I’m a human fucking being, not just something you own and can control.” I said to him as he dragged me in through the front door of my house. I noticed my mom wasn’t home, and I suddenly felt very uneasy.
“Shut the hell up and get upstairs.”
I wanted to argue with him, but I knew it was no use. He would just win. He always does. I trudged up the stairs and flopped down on my bed, and he walked into the room after me, closing the door behind him. He sat down next to me, and rubbed his eyes in his hands.
“I’m sorry Frank. I don’t know what’s been going on with me lately. I just get so jealous, and I can’t control what I do.”
I suddenly felt very bad for him. “You should go see a therapist or something, Max. You need a better way of dealing with things instead of hurting me all the time.”
He nodded then turned and looked at me. I gave him a sad smile. As much as he terrified me at times, he was still the beautiful boy I had formed a huge crush on all those months ago. His blonde hair was constantly falling into his light blue eyes, but he never fixed it. I reached forward and brushed his hair back behind his ear, and he leaned in and kissed me.
The kisses started off light and modest, but soon turned rough and dirty, and his hands were tangled in my hair.
It felt nice to be close to him again, and feel pleasure instead of pain, so of course I went with it, but as soon as his hands started unbuttoning my pants, I pulled away from him.
“I’m sorry Max, but I really don’t want to do this right now. We just had a fight, I’m not in the mood.”
He rolled his eyes at me, and pushed me back.
“Oh, I’ll get you in the mood.”
I shook my head and he crawled on top of me and started to grind down on my lap.
“No, Max. I mean it. I don’t want to do this. Please stop.” I tried to push him off of me, but he wouldn’t move. He just kept kissing me every time I tried to talk and tell him no. He unzipped his pants and I froze.
I wasn’t ready for this.

Gerard’s POV
“I’ll fuckin kill him! You should’ve seen the scared look in Frankie’s eyes. God, what a fucking monster he is!” I shouted at Lindsey.
“Who the fuck is he, Gee?” She asked me. I stopped pacing the living room floor and sat down harshly on the couch next to her.
“It’s his fucking boyfriend. His name is Max and I’ll admit, he’s hot as hell and does not seem like the type to take it up the ass, but he’s as queer as I am. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s obviously abusive.”
“Well what do you plan to do about it?” She asked me.
I thought for a second before answering. “I really don’t know. I want to call the cops but what could they really do? There’s no proof of what happened unless you ask the guy at the comic shop, but other than that, nothing will be done. I just can’t sit back and watch as someone hurts Frankie. I did that to him so much, and he doesn’t deserve it.”
“Your abuse was never physical, though. Just a shit ton of mental abuse.” Lindsey mused out loud.
“Yeah, you’re ri-” I was cut off by my phone ringing. I pulled it out of my pocket and saw that it was Frank.
“It’s him. It’s Frank.”
“Well answer it, dumbass!” Lindsey yelled.
I hit the answer button and put it up to my ear.
“Yeah?”
“G-Gerard I need help.” He sounded like he was crying.
“Where are you, Frank?”
“Home.” He sounded so broken and it was killing me.
“I’ll be right over.”
I hung up the phone and stood up. “What’s going on?” Lindsey asked me.
“I have to go. I have to save him.” I said before leaving the house. I got in my car and began the familiar drive to Frank’s house.
I pulled into the driveway and walked in the front door without knocking once I saw that Linda’s car wasn’t also in the driveway.
“Frank?” I yelled throughout the house.
There was no answer, so I slowly walked up the stairs to his room. The door was cracked, so I pushed it all the way open.
“Oh my god.” I covered my mouth at what I saw.
Frank was laying in his bed, his pants were messily pulled up over his hip bones, and there was blood on his sheets. His shirt was torn off of him, and he had scratches and hickeys all down his chest. He didn’t look at me, he just stared up at his ceiling.
I rushed to his side and grabbed his hand.
He looked at me, startled, as if this was the first time he noticed I was there. There were tear tracks on his face, and his eyes were bloodshot.
“Frankie, come on. You need to get up. I’m not going to make you tell me what happened yet, but we need to get you cleaned up.”
I pulled him up and led him to the bathroom. I ran a warm bath for him, and helped him out of his clothes, then lowered him into the tub. He didn’t say anything, just stared straight ahead, like he wasn’t comprehending everything that was going on.
I left the bathroom door open, and I pulled the sheets off of his bed, then threw them in the washer, along with his pants. The shirt was too torn to save, so I threw it away.
I found a closet full of blankets and sheets, and I pulled some sheets out, then put them on his bed. I went downstairs into the kitchen, and made him a hot cup of tea, then set it on his bedside table.
I walked back into the bathroom and sat down on the floor next to the tub. He hadn’t moved at all, so I grabbed a plastic cup and filled it with water from his bath, then let it fall over his hair. I rubbed some shampoo into it, then rinsed it out, then I started washing his back with soap, not daring to touch him anywhere else.
Once I was done, I left to grab him some sweatpants and a t-shirt. I didn’t know how underwear would feel for him, so I didn’t grab any.
I helped him out of the tub and slowly towel dried him, then helped him into his new clothes.
“Come on Frankie.” I whispered to him, and led him to his room. I laid him down on his bed and handed him his tea, then I laid down next to him. He sipped at the tea for a while, before setting it down next to him.
“Frankie, can you please tell me what happened?” I asked him in a very quiet voice.
He finally really looked at me for the first time since I had been there.
He just rested his head on my shoulder and began to sob. I wrapped my arm around his shoulder, and held him.
We stayed like that for a few hours before he finally began to speak.
“I told him no. I said it so many times, the word felt like poison on my tongue. It lost all of it’s meaning. He didn’t listen, Gerard. I said no. I said it so many times…” His voice sounded so broken.
I looked down at him. He was staring at the wall in front of him.
“It’s not your fault, Frankie. It’s not your fault.” I tried to reassure him.
I didn’t even need to ask what had happened. It was so obvious, but I needed to hear him tell me how he saw it.
All I knew was that I wanted to kill Max, and I wanted to do it right now.
I glanced at the clock next to me and saw that it was getting late.
“Linda will be home soon, Frankie. I can’t be here.”
He sat straight up and he seemed panicked.
“No, oh god no, please don’t leave me, Gerard. Please, I can’t be alone, he’ll come back!” He rushed out. He was breathing heavily.
“Sshh, it’s okay, Frankie. You can come home with me. I won’t ever let you be alone again. I won’t ever let him hurt you. I love you, Frankie.”

Notes