Gerard was shaking. I opened my eyes halfway, grunting sleepily. I nudged him with my elbow, letting out a soft sigh.
Gerard just kept shaking. I huffed and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and running a hand through my hair. Gerard was trembling in his sleep, whimpering occasionally.
I shook him until he stopped, then laid down again, rolling over tiredly. I was starting to drift off again when his face buried in my back and his arms snaked around my waist. I sighed and rubbed his arm lightly. “Gerard? What's wrong?”
“Bad dream.” He whispered, shifting against me. I stroked the back of his hand and sighed. “Okay. Try and get some more sleep.”
I squinted at the clock and sighed. “I have to go down to the station soon, I'll see you in a while, okay?”
I wriggled out of his grip and left him looking completely lost on my bed.

---

I got back even more achy and exhausted than before. Pete had been sick, and I'd had to work with one of the even newer officers, which was a nightmare. I had no idea how Pete could stand being around me. Then again, Pete was a much better teacher than me.
Gerard greeted me at the door with an unexpected hug. I smiled slightly and hugged back with one arm. “Hey.”
“I made dinner.”
He seemed nervous, so I gently pulled away from him and slipped past him to kick my shoes off. “That's awesome.”
Gerard smiled and ran a hand through his hair. I found myself staring at him, the haunted innocence trapped in his smile.
“It's just box mac and cheese.”
I shrugged and slipped my coat off, limping towards my bedroom. “It's still food.”
Gerard wrapped his arm around my waist, smiling up at me as he supported me to the door. “I guess. Are you gonna get time off for your leg to heal?”
I nodded and opened the door, taking my shirt off and dropping it on the floor. Gerard followed me shamelessly, almost puppy-like. I started to take my jeans off, wincing and pulling faces when they caught on the bandage. Gerard took a shaky step towards me, smiling awkwardly. “I can help.”
I took a deep breath and nodded. I'd get frustrated quickly and rip the bandage off with the jeans, I knew myself well enough to know that. Gerard knelt down and started very carefully wriggling the jeans off. I closed my eyes, feeling a little sick. I was afraid he'd touch me, despite knowing that fear was completely irrational. He wouldn't want me.
And yet I didn't know how I'd react if he did. I honestly think that's what scared me the most.
Gerard kissed the top of my thigh as he tugged the jeans fully off. “There you go.”
His voice was soft, smoother than usual. I shivered and jumped up, crying out in pain, but still forcing myself over to my dresser. I pulled on clothes hurriedly, my fingers shaky and almost numb. Gerard remained on the floor, watching me a little sadly. I stumbled into the living room and threw myself down on the couch. He followed a little later, touching my hip. “You hungry?”
I shook my head and he sighed. “Okay. I'm gonna go eat.”

---

Gerard stayed away from me that night. The next morning was a different story. I told him I was taking a bath and he shook his head. “Nope. You can't, that cut will get infected.”
I rolled my eyes and started towards the bathroom. “Frank, let me help you!”
He jogged after me, opening the door for me. I gulped and glanced around the small room. A sponge bath. From a male prostitute. Just what I needed. I ran a hand through my hair and shook my head again. “I'll be okay.”
Gerard hugged me and kissed my chest gently. “I promise not to touch you inappropriately, I really do just want to help you..”
I pushed his chest lightly, shaking my head. “No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
I pushed him out of the room, slamming the door and taking a deep breath. I leaned my forehead against the door, trying to stop myself from shaking. Gerard started to cry.

---

I washed my hair in the sink and rubbed pain reliever into my bruises. I groaned and kicked my clothes into a corner of the room. I'd forgotten to bring clean ones. I wrapped a towel around my waist and slipped out of the room. Gerard was asleep on the floor, laid down in front of the door. I stepped over him carefully, heading to my room and getting dressed.
There was a tentative knock at the bedroom door.
“Frank? Will you let me look at the cut? Please?”
His voice was pathetic and pleading. I sighed and gave in, opening the door.
I took my sweatpants off and Gerard knelt down behind me, his slim fingers cold against my skin as he teased the bandage away. He hissed and kissed the side of my thigh, making me flinch a little. “This needs stitches. Hold on.”
He hurried off, coming back with a small bag he'd rescued from his apartment. He pulled out some ointment and knelt down again, rubbing it over the cut. I hung my head, feeling exposed and embarrassed. I tried not to feel his gentle touch, which happened to be successful, as he'd numbed the cut. When he was done with the stitches, he bandaged it again and helped me with my pants. I pushed him away slightly, my hands shaking as I tugged the sweats over my hips. Gerard nodded almost imperceptibly and grabbed his bag, all but running out of my room. I followed him a little more slowly, meandering into the living room. I curled up on the couch, hearing Gerard rustling around in his room. He came out after a while, his hair all messed up. He carried his blanket over to me and tucked it in around me, fussing over me with adorable concern.
“I'm okay, Gerard.” I managed, brushing my fingertips over his wrist. “Sit down.”
He plopped down next to me, curling his body around mine. I sighed and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “What's wrong?”
He seemed agitated, shifting constantly and looking around the room. “I got fired.”
I ran a hand through my hair slowly, taking a deep breath. “Why?”
Gerard looked down at his hands. “I fell. I was on the ladder and stocking and my foot slipped.”
“They can't fire you for that.”
“They did.”
I sighed and rubbed his back gently. “You'll find a new job, yeah? Maybe one with no ladders.”
Gerard smiled sadly and looked at me.
“I love you.”
I bit my tongue for a second, staring back at him. “Um.”
He sighed and looked down again, playing with his fingers. “You're special to me. You don't have to say anything.”
I nodded and tapped his nose lightly. “I like having you around.”
He smiled slightly and rubbed his nose as if scrubbing away my touch. “I'm glad.”

---

I met up with Pete at the bar while Gerard slept. I told him about what had happened and he smiled.
“It sounds like he really likes you.”
I looked down at my beer, wanting to hide in the cool liquid. “Mhm.”
“You're straight.”
It wasn't really a question, but there wasn't a finality about the statement.
I shrugged. “I've always assumed. I don't really…”
I choked up a little, covering it with a gulp from my glass. The buzz felt nice. “I don't really think about it much.”
Pete nodded and traced the grain in the wood with a fingertip.
“I think Mikey and I are gonna get married.”
I frowned and rested my chin in one hand. “You've been dating for four months.”
Pete smiled sadly and shrugged. “He's perfect, Frankie.”
I rolled my eyes. “Come on. You complain all the time. You say he's moody and snappy sometimes and that he refuses to bring you breakfast from IHOP when he goes over.”
Pete laughed, the tears rolling down his cheeks. “He's bipolar, Frankie. He can't help it. He's getting on meds, for me. It's gonna be perfect.”
I didn't like seeing Pete cry. I shifted and handed him my clean napkin.
“If you think it's the right choice...then I support you.”
Pete giggled again, drying his eyes. “Yeah. I think he's gonna propose next week.”
I smiled, pushing the ache away. “I'm happy for you guys.”
Pete took a deep breath and looked up at me. “Thanks. But we need to talk about you and Gerard more.”
I shook my head. “No we don't. I'm straight, like you said. I date girls. Gerard's just...my roommate.”
Pete sighed and leaned back in his chair, still a bit shaky from his earlier confession.
“I don't believe that, Frank. I don't know if it's romantic or sexual or platonic, but there's something more there. A lot more. He cares for you, so much. And you care for him.”
I ran a hand through my hair again, frustrated.
“I don't wanna talk about this anymore.”
I gulped down the second half of my beer. Pete sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “You don't like talking, Frank, but you gotta do it sometimes.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “I don't. I really don't.”
I got up and grabbed my coat, walking out of the bar. I told myself it wasn't a storm-out. It had been a calm exit. Outwardly.

---

Gerard was sobbing on the couch. I hung my coat up and kicked my shoes off, walking over to him. He was watching the nature channel, and some baby lion cubs or something had died. He'd paused it, so I couldn't tell exactly what had happened. But he was a mess.
I sat down next to him and rubbed the outside of his thigh. “What's wrong?”
“Everything.”
He didn't lean into me like he usually did. He just sat there, crying. I rubbed my eyes and took a deep breath. This was becoming way too much for me.
“Gerard, go to bed.”
He scrambled up, tripping over himself and sobbing as he hurried into his bedroom. I walked to my own bed more calmly, stripping to my boxers and climbing under the covers. I fell asleep in seconds, exhausted by the day.

Notes

So it would be super great if you guys wanted to help me out a little with some criticism or ideas. I have about 9 chapters pre-written so I'm gonna try and get a 1:1 ratio for updates and days for a while, but I'm at the point in the story where I feel like I've hit a resolution kind of area, and any other suggestions would be welcome :)