The Story I Paint, The Story You Chase

Sometimes we will say things we are thinking without meaning to say them. Other times we say exactly what we think, and we know we mean to say them. I didn’t really need to stop and think about the question that hung in the open for what felt like an eternity. I knew that this was a large step, and I knew that friends don’t sleep together unless they’re camping or there isn’t enough mattresses. To be frank, I didn’t give a damn. Earlier, had I had the guts, I would have kissed the short punk, but I had just a smidge of self-control left in the moment. Apparently I had enough when I got back to ensure I didn’t reveal to him what I did exactly. Yes, I found a way to sneak into the business district and spray paint Frank’s eyes over one of the main buildings. One of the buildings that every passer-by walked past. Of course, It wasn’t too large, but large enough for someone to notice. It was in black and white, but soon that would all go away. It’s all about self-control at this point. Self-control to not spill my secrets like the tea I spilled at work this morning, and self-control to not pull Frank closer, and even the self-control to not press my chapped, pale lips that taste all too much like coffee, to Frank’s. With Frank, I didn’t care about the silver haired girl who had an infatuation with me, or that I would soon quit my godforsaken job. I didn’t care about throwing my life away, or what was allowed. I didn’t care if it wasn’t acceptable to want to trace your friend’s tattoos with your lips…
I pulled away from Frank, and looked to my feet after I had asked him to sleep with me. The small nod he provided me with was enough to know that he wanted what I did… It was enough to prove to me that something was there, within Frank, and within me, and that was enough for me. It was proof that maybe he wasn’t as straight as I thought he was, or maybe he was but was seeking comfort. That’s something that Gerard might never know. Not until he asked, but then it could be too late.

“Let’s clean up our mess. Maybe we could watch Netflix?” Frank broke the silence after a little while. “I just really want to watch something until I get too sleepy… I’ll make us some popcorn.” I slowly nodded.

“I was uh- actually thinking of talking to you about something.” I bite my bottom lip and suck on it, waiting for an answer from the shorter man. It felt like years until I got it from Frank.

“Of course. Did you still want popcorn, and a movie after? It might ease the tension.” I nodded, and looked away from Frank. A deep pit sank into my stomach, and almost robotically I started to clean up the paint, not another word was spoken to Frank. He did help me though. I wish I could tell him how much I appreciate what he’s doing for me. I don’t deserve him… Not at all.

“I would like that.” I whispered. My voice was hoarse, and sounded like it hadn’t been used in several years. I put the painting by my desk to dry, and really looked at it. It was the embodiment of what Frank and I were. Me; the depressed, famous graffiti artist, and Frank; the infamous photographer and musician who deserved to be known by millions. I sighed out and turned only to be met with Frank. He gently took my hand and dragged me over to the couch. That’s when I started to talk. “Look, I shouldn’t have questioned you in the way I did. You and I both know that you’re not good with having little space, and I’m not good with people being so kind. I’ve been treated like shit. It’s not a reason to treat you that way and I’m sorry I did. I understand that I acted completely unreasonably. It’s not that I was upset with you. I was upset with myself if I’m going to be honest. It’s no reason to give you any shit though. It’s just not fair to you. If you want any distance, I get it. I- I know there’s a reason for it, but if I tell you, you’re going to run through that door, and you’re my only friend.” Frank listened tentatively, and nodded gently. I wasn’t done speaking so he let me continue. “I know this raises a lot of questions, I know it does, but I think that I should tell you when I’m ready to tell you. It’s- it’s like when I came out to my family. I wasn’t ready to but my boyfriend at the time called me babe in front of them by accident, and the truth slipped out… They weren’t happy about it. I don’t want this to be another one of those situations.” I admit to my roommate without hesitation.

“It’s okay. Just- please make an effort to tell me. I understand where you’re coming from though. I can’t judge you for it, Gee. I won’t. Honest to god. It was little tight… The space you confined me to.” Frank admit with an undertone to his voice. He seemed to be hiding something but it wasn’t really apparent what it was. Sometimes he doesn’t tell me the whole truth and there’s a specific tone he’ll use for it. One tug at the string, and it’ll unravel. That’s not really something I say, it’s just the truth. “I know you don’t mean harm, and I know for a fact that you wouldn’t hurt me. You’re not that kind of person. You just got worked up.” I nodded.

“It wasn’t right of me to.” My face heats up in embarrassment. “I shouldn’t have treated you like that. It was like a scene in a movie where the shorter is going to get beat to a pulp by this more intimidating figure. I don’t want to be that person, Frank.” I whisper, scared of myself.

“You won’t be. I promise you.” The sincerity flowed from his voice. An unbelievable amount of sincerity, and what for, I wasn’t sure. For some reason Frank Iero was a wonder, and for some reason this wonder chose to accept me the way I am.

“Those are some strong words coming from such a tiny man.” I tried to lighten the mood. He fake gasped, covered his now open mouth with his hand, and with his other, punched my arm.

“Is that a way to talk to a lady?” He tried to keep his serious composure but snorted and started laughing, and I too ended up laughing right along with him. The two of us were very much odd, but we had this connection with each other that we didn’t seem to have with anybody else.

“No, but you’re not a lady.” I retorted once I caught my breath.

“Then what am I?” He snorted.Crazy, wonderful, beautiful,I thought to myself, and then continued listing.Masterpiece, tragedy, human, heartbreak, heartache, love, death, emotions.I didn’t answer Frank for a little while, hoping that maybe I wouldn’t say something so profoundly idiotic.

“You’re Frank.” I answered simply and offered a small smile.

“You’re a fucking artist and all you come up with is that I’m Frank?” He asked and shook his head. “Come on, let’s go watch a movie. Still want me to make popcorn?” I smiled and nodded. Frank making popcorn meant I chose the movie. See, we devised a system. He who makes popcorn doesn’t chose the film, however, he who makes popcorn choses the film next time one is to be spectated. Frank made a cool poster for us with that saying on it and we hung it on the back of that metal separator for the bedroom. In a loft, you don’t have a proper bedroom so you had a divider to separate the living room from your personal quarters.
Since Frank moved in, we’ve adjusted the bedroom in ways I didn’t think we possibly would. Instead of a bedframe, like I used to have, Frank and I bought him a mattress, and placed it on the floor with some sheets, and we did the same to mine. We placed them slightly nearer to the large window so that we could centre them. Honestly, I started to prefer this over having a bed frame. It was down to the mattress really. It was a firmer one, and it was higher off the ground than most, but the way we fixed it up made it look like we could afford luxury, and like it wasn’t just something sloppy. We also put away the bedframe but kept it in case he ever moved out so that I could have it. Honestly, I doubt I’d need it. The short raven haired punk got me used to this kind of thing and now there wasn’t going back. Truthfully, I never wanted him to move out. It’s a wonder we managed to get along so well. I’m glad we did. I’m really worried that one day he’ll want to move away from me, and that we won’t talk any longer. He’s made me change my life in ways I didn’t think possible, and despite people possibly saying he was a bad role model, he was far from it. He pushed me to work harder on my art. He was my inspiration. Ever since he came around, I went out and did more graffiti. That wasn’t a good thing for society, but it was a good release for me. I really enjoyed what I did, especially thanks to Frank.
I felt a little shake at my shoulder and I looked up to see the ebony haired man standing above me. I give him a gentle smile and take the popcorn for him.

“You okay? You spaced out that whole time,” Frank asked me quietly as he sat down.

“Yeah- yeah. Just… Thinking I guess.” I sighed. “I’ll go grab my laptop.” I quickly went to grab it and came back, propping it open, and typing in my password. “I haven’t yet chosen a movie, but maybe we can make an exception to the rule this time around?” Frank shook his head.

“Mmm, no I don’t think so.” He snaked his arm around me which was odd, he hasn’t done that before, not that I’ll complain.

“Fine… I want to watch Psycho, but I mean any horror or thriller will do. It has to be good.” I explained as I leaned further into Frank. “Maybe if you want, I know you love this movie, Nightmare before Christmas? Oh, or Corpse Bride!” I quickly found Corpse Bride and my roommate let out a little giggle.

“It’s funny because it’s so different from Psycho.”

“Okay, but Psycho isn’t on US Netflix.” I complained.

“Pass.” He made a grabby hand at my laptop and I moved it over. “You have ad block right?” He asked me and I nodded slowly. “Good. Okay so I’m going to just open chrome and find it. Taking Netflix and chill to a new level.” Frank laughed out and I snorted. After some typing, and a third party website, he found a version of it that was crystal clear quality. “There we go!” He beamed.

“Thank you!” I beamed and flung myself into his arms, avoiding the popcorn bowl but just barely. He tried to hold me, he tensed some but when he relaxed he held me tight and his palms were splayed over my back. I never understood how he got me to relax in such a way but he always managed to make me feel incredibly comfortable and safe. “And thank you for hearing me out, alright? Really, thank you. It means a lot.”

“Stop getting sappy, you fuck. Let’s just watch this movie.” Frank let out a pot giggle. And so we turned some lights off, snuck under the covers and watched in silence. Most of the movie was spent in complete silence and with popcorn inconspicuously being thrown at each other. Eventually though, I felt Frank’s leg against mine. I didn’t think much of it so I brushed it off but eventually I felt his hip against mine. I closed my eyes for a second and when I reopened them I tried to focus on the movie. Norman Bates, at this point, was peeping through the little hole that looked into Marion’s room. The next thing made me relax slightly; Frank leaned his head on my shoulder. A relatively normal action, or so I thought for a little while. I enjoyed it and slipped my arm around his waist, sighing out gently. We stayed put for some time, me drawing Frankie closer to me over some periods of time. During the murder scene, I felt Frank tilt his head and what I thought to be his nose to brush my neck so I shivered and brushed it off. The rest of the evening went smoothly, and after the movie was over, he stayed put.

“Mmm, stay.” He hummed out to me gently. I blushed hard and looked down at him as best I could.

“Of course.” I whispered into his hair. He once again tilted his head back, and only then did I realise what brushed against my neck. I tensed up significantly and shivered, pupils blowing wide. This man was trying to drive me crazy, he was pushing my buttons, working me up, trying to evoke something within me. The crazy thing was that it was working. That it was pleasant and that I wanted it. I wanted more of it, and I wanted to return the favour. I brought my hand to shut my laptop, and I set it aside. The small action the punk was committing to was only intensifying and continuing. I didn’t want him to stop it, I wanted him to continue it. My eyes slipped shut and I hummed gently, realizing slowly that I really wanted to pin the younger under me, and kiss him, kiss him for a long while. They call it basorexia I believe.

Everything was good, I relaxed for once, until his hand fell on my thigh. I jumped back and pushed Frank off. I couldn’t. This wasn’t right. We were friends and nothing more. I wanted to kiss him and hold him- but it was too soon to tell him. Or was it? He wanted this right? No he didn’t. I’m a graffiti artist, he’s a beautiful musician who captured my heart first with his photography and then his soulful music.

“Gee, I-” I swallowed hard and ripped the covers off, pulling on my jacket and shoes, grabbing my duffle bag and running out. A part of me wanted him to follow, but a large part screamed against it. I ran to a more peaceful part of town, a more art based area and started to spray paint a man with his head tilted, revealing his neck. His hair covered his face, and I refused to add detail to him. For a moment, before I was lost in my work, I thought I heard footsteps but they stopped. That or they were covered up by the sound of the paint being released from the confinement of the can. I gave the pale man a fauxhawk and as soon as I was done with the pale and dark shades, I pulled out reds, purples, greens, and yellows, covering the man’s neck and collar bones in hickies. I silently worked, unaware that there was possibly someone watching. I took out a stencil for some letters and under I wrote ‘I want to be more than friends’. I sighed and packed up my stuff, and as I exited the little area I bumped right into someone.

“Fuck.” I whispered and without a moment’s hesitation, I turned on my heel and tried to run. Tried as in the person grabbed my wrist tight and pulled me back causing me to knock them over.

“You fucking idiot.” I heard briefly. I immediately knew whose voice it was.

“Shit- Shit- I can’t, Frank!” I squeaked as he pulled me on top of him and I tried to pry myself away.

“Don’t leave like that.” I heard from a broken tone. Staying on top of the shorter man, I looked over his face, tears threatening to spill. “This is the second time you left…” I nodded, trying not to look him in the eyes “I want to- to paint masterpieces with you. Two artists making different art, in different forms, with different meanings. I want that, Gee.”
“You’re scared of being alone.” I whispered and he slowly nodded. “Oh god, I’m so sorry.” I almost buried my face in his neck. Almost. “I won’t leave, Frank. I promise you. I just need air. I- It’s not a justified action…” I looked away from his face and began to sit up “I’m just not used to that, not ready, not,” I began to say but got cut short by Frank.
“It was impulse, its fine. Didn’t mean anything.” Oh. “I shouldn’t have. I mean, we’re friends Gerard.” I swallowed hard and nodded, getting off him and pulling him up right after. “I’ve just been alone and I don’t really remember what love feels like, or how to differ from the types of love. I’ve been alone so much that I forgot what friendship and company is, and now that I have it, I’m scared of losing it.” I nodded, heart slightly broken. Although why should it be? Frank is just a man.
We began walking home, without the realisation that our hands were entangled. How this came to be was a mystery to me. I didn’t ask, I didn’t push, I just held his hand tight in mine. He didn’t mean what he said, did he? That it meant nothing?
We slowly reached the apartment building and I slipped my hand from his, fishing my keys from my pocket and sighing out gently. What would I do with myself? With him here? I bit my lip and walked slightly ahead of Frank, I only noted this when I turned to find him behind me. I waited for him, like I will always wait for him. We walked to our apartment in silence and I opened to door without a word or a joke from Frank as he usually would. I turned to him and immediately took him into a hug. If heartbreak had an embodiment, Frank was it.
“Frankie, it’s okay, I’m here.” I kissed the top of his head as I cooed to him and he visibly tensed but wrapped his arms around me anyway. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I won’t, I swear it.” I told him, and kept cooing until he was the one to pull away.
“Let’s just sleep?” Frank suggested to me calmly and I bit my lip and nodded, letting him slip past me but I made sure to hold my hand on his lower back to show that I would support him. I swear a near non-existent smile graced his lips and faded almost immediately after. He went to get ready so I decided to change into my pj’s. I stripped myself of my pants and my shirt, neatly folding them and placing them beside my bed from now. I was about to pull a shirt on when Frank opened the door to the washroom. “Gee, I just wanted to,” when his eyes fell upon me he froze, lips parted. I felt glued to my spot but tried desperately to get myself to move.
“I can put on a shirt, I know this isn’t,” I attempted to argue and grab some sort of shirt.
“No!” Frank nearly yelled. “I mean, no, it’s okay. You don’t actually need to cover up.” He looked to his feet. I heard a slight mumble but didn’t catch what it was.
“Oh- okay, I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” I shifted from foot to foot and debated whether I should approach the punk.
“Gerard, are you fucking serious?” He let out an exasperated breath and stepped closer to me. “You’re telling me you don’t want me to be uncomfortable, because you’re like this, yet on the first night here I stripped to show you all my tattoos?” I let out a pathetic laugh and nodded. “Come here.” I hesitated but decided I would go to him. He met me half way and engulfed me in a hug. “It’s okay.” He whispered and splayed his hands across my back. Once he pulled away, his eyes flicked over me and landed on my hips. He bit his lip and pulled away slightly more, tearing his eyes upwards. “Come on, go brush your teeth and wash your face. I’ll be in bed.” He said, part of Frank being back.
I walked into the washroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I had bags under my eyes, and I just felt a pang of resentment. Why couldn’t I tell him? Why wasn’t I straightforward and honest with Frank? I may never know. I splashed water into my face and then used my coconut oil and coffee scrub, washing it off soon after. I then brushed my teeth and headed out, carefully stepping over Frank, and plopping into bed and drawing my covers over me. I turned off the last light, which was situated beside me, and snuggled into my covers.
Hours passed and I couldn’t sleep. I shifted and tried to get comfortable but nothing was working. I desperately tried to keep still but couldn’t. Frank. It’s Frank. No it’s fucking not. It’s Frank, just look at him, lips parted, messy hair, soft features. N-no. You can’t sleep because of Frank.
“Gerard?” A groggy voice asked and my eyes landed on the smaller man. “Gee, come here… You’ve been tossing and turning.” I reluctantly inched over to his side of the bed, and as soon as I did, I felt his warm arm around me, holding my waist. “It’s okay, Gee. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.” I nodded and scooted much closer to him, chests nearly pressing together. “Gee, if it’s more comfortable, you can turn around.” I debated it but shook my head. I wanted to see Frank.
“I want to see your face, Frankie.” I sleepily let out. He tensed but soon relaxed and held me a bit tighter.
“There isn’t much good that comes with it.” He sighed out and nudged my foot with his. “May I?” He asked, and in a dreamy state I nodded, tilting my head back slightly, half hoping to get a kiss pressed to it, half hoping not. He tangled his legs with mine, with my assistance, and I drew him in.
“You’re warm.” I mumbled.
“You’re an asshole…” He retorted and buried his face in the crook of my neck, mumbling what could have been ‘but I love you anyway’. I wasn’t sure. I just shuddered, placing my hands on his hips and tugging him close to me.
“Frankie… You’re so warm, so soft… You’re so kind.” I mumbled against his hair.
“Gerard, you’re tired, get sleep.” His hot breath on my neck evoked reactions in me it shouldn’t. I wanted to get closer. I wanted to feel that regularly, as something significant, something more than two friends.
“I don’t want it to mean nothing Frankie…” I felt a pair of lips attach themselves to my neck.
“It meant everything, Gee.” And somehow with those words I managed to fall asleep.

Notes