Kissing Frank goodbye that night was extremely painful.
Wake up the next morning was ten times more painful. I woke up in my bed, surrounded in a puddle of my own revolting sweat that soaked the sheets, my pillow, my comforter, everything my skin was touching. It scared me half to death, I was only in my boxers and a thin T-shirt so of course it seemed abnormal that I was sweating buckets. I sat up and pushed my Star Wars sheets off my legs only to feel more sweat run down my forehead. I didn't have any nightmares and my room was fairly cold.
I glanced at my clock that was sat on my dresser, sighing and realizing it was only about 9 am. I flopped myself back onto my bed. I was scared of myself then. My sweating episode was obviously triggered by some kind of anxiety that I was dealing with. Perhaps inner turmoil at its best. It happened a lot when I was little. When I was six, I would get myself so worked up over some made-up monster in my closet that I would start sweating because I became so nervous. Sometimes, it would look like someone decided to pour a bucket of water on my bed.
'I'm just nervous.' I concluded in my head. I ran my fingers through my hair only to cringe at how drenched and matted it was. There were knots in the back of it from where Frank had tangled his hands earlier that night, where his fingers had pulled and tugged while his lips danced a ballet against my neck. I wanted him to mark me, but he wouldn't do it.
"It's not the time yet, darling." He had told me as his fingertips hovered over my upper thigh. He then proceeded to give me a lecture about the seriousness of marking someone's neck. I understood where he was coming from, knowing that hickeys were a huge deal between two people. I thought they were winsome, beauteous and graceful. Awkward as it sounds, I'd seen lovebites on my mom's neck plenty of times and I always admired how they caught my eye. There was something sacrificial about hickeys, they're bruises after all. Trusting someone enough to let them bruise you on such a conspicuous part of your body was prepossessing.
I turned over onto my side, my sweating decreasing a lot. I heard movement coming from downstairs with murmured voices and the sound of clinking glass plates. I got up, sighed a total of fourteen times, pulled on a pair of sweatpants and some fuzzy socks, then made my way down the wooden steps of my chilled home. I wandered to the kitchen where I assumed my mom and dad would be, they weren't there. Instead, I found Mikey sitting on the counter with a coffee mug in his, Ray sitting next to him with a glass of orange juice and a perky smile on his face.
"Hello Gee." Mikey said gently before taking a sip of his coffee.
"Hi." I sighed. I looked over at Ray and he nodded his head at me.
"Good morning, Gerard." Ray chirped. He was being fake, I knew exactly what he was doing. He was trying to act all nice in front of my brother and I had no time for that bullshit.
"Fuck you." I spat. We didn't look at each other. He didn't even say anything back. I turned to Mikey, "Where's mom?"
Mikey shrugged. "They never came home last night."
I raised my eyebrows. "Well did you bother to fucking call them?"
"Gerard, calm down he didn't-" Ray started to interject.
"Oh shut the fuck up." I retorted. "You're not in my family last time I checked, so you have no purpose to even interrupt this conversation."
Mikey glared at me. "Jesus Gerard, what's your issue?"
I froze. Technically, I wasn't being irrational. I had every right to be a complete bitch to Ray if I felt so. Hell, I could've punched him dead in the face if I wanted if he wasn't so muscular and a foot taller than me. My eyes flickered back and forth between my brother and his frizzy-haired friend. I cleared my throat.
"I don't have an issue." I stated matter-of-factly, my tone somehow more calmed down.
"Really? 'Cause it seems like someone shoved a stick or two up your ass last night." Ray bitched. Mikey looked over at him and started to laugh, causing Ray to burst into along giggles with him.
"You guys are actual shit." I mumbled. They barely heard me over their laughing and obvious gawking over each other. I sighed and walked passed them. I hesitantly grabbed a bagel from the bread basket on the kitchen table then retreated back to my room in a small hurry. I nibbled at my bagel, cross-legged on my hardwood floor, thinking about nothing yet everything all at once. I was upset. I wanted to cry until my eyes were so irritated that it would be torment to shed another tear. Ray was acting like a cock. Mikey was acting like a bigger cock by being oblivious to how much of a huge cock that Ray was. They were two annoying cocks.
My bagel was nearly finished when there was a soft knock on my bedroom door. Figuring it was Ray, I let out a stern, "No thanks."
I heard a sigh behind the door followed by the sound of someone shifting around. "Gerard, we gotta talk about this." Ray called softly.
"There's nothing to talk about, bud." I hissed back.
He went quiet for a few seconds. "I know that you left last night."
I rolled my eyes and stood to walk to my door where I snatched it open to face Ray's tall stature. "Since when are you my fucking mother? Where I decide to go doesn't concern you."
Ray's face softened as he looked down at me with big, brown eyes through his untamed curls. "I'm worried about you."
"You barely know me."
"I know you enough to worry about you."
"I don't care."
"I know that you don't care, that worries me even more." Ray told me, crestfallen. He hitched and stared me deep in my eyes, "You went back to him last night, didn't you?"
"Be more specific on who I went with. There's a lot of men in the world if you haven't noticed." I almost yelped. I went back to where I was sitting on the floor a few minutes prior. Ray followed and sat next to me.
"Gerard, can I ask you a serious question?" Ray breathed out quietly.
I nodded.
He searched around for words to use for what felt like hours. "Gerard, were you even interested in men before this all started happening with Mr. Iero?"
I squinted my eyes and looked at Ray in almost disbelief at his stupidity, "You're kidding me."
"No, I'm...I'm really not."
"You're actually a grade A fucking idiot." I laughed bitterly under my breath so he could barely hear my insults directed at him.
"So," Ray sighed, curling a piece of hair behind his ear, "What I'm getting from this is that you were gay before Mr. Iero started...violating you."
I scoffed. "The only thing that's been violated these past two weeks is my privacy because you can't stay in your own fucking lane."
"I'm trying to understand this, Gerard. But...it's nasty. Immoral, wrong, disgusting."
"Yet it's moral for you, an eighteen year old, to like my little brother who's barely out of middle school." I shot back at him.
"Who said I liked him?" Ray asked, almost sounding shocked.
"I'm not stupid."
"You're stupid for letting a teacher touch you in a sadistic way."
"We haven't done anything physical so therefore, it's legal." I lied straight through my teeth.
"You realize that I'm not stupid either, right?" Ray chuckled.
"Fuck you." I said.
"I have to get you help, Gee."
"Get out of my room."
"Ger-"
"Get the fuck out of my room before I beat the fucking living shit out of you."
Ray didn't budge. I clenched my fists.
"You're being hurt." He mumbled.
"Yes, you're so fucking right, Ray I-Know-Everything Toro. I'm being so hurt that Frank Iero actually told me he wants me to be successful! God, fucking terrible, right? I'm being hurt so bad that the joyous, tremendous, pedophilic, Mr. Iero has told me time and time again that everything we do is under my decision and my decision only. I should just drop dead because it's so awful that Frank motherfucking Iero wants what's best for me, that he's practically in love with me already." My voice raised as I went on a full on rant, seeing complete red, I shifted to face Ray more properly.
"Gerard-" He tried to interrupt.
"No. Don't fucking talk over me. Ya know what's fantastic Ray? Ya know what I enjoy so much? I fucking enjoy kissing my thirty-five year old teacher. You know what that's like, huh? Being taken into someones arms and being fucking kissed like you mean something? You probably don't know that feeling, it's easy to understand why you wouldn't. Oh, but I'm not close to being done talking, Ray sweetie. I've barely started."
Ray was staring at me, wide-eyed and completely shocked.
"You know what's utterly amazing? Grinding your damn teacher. Building up sweat with someone who's older than you, yeah? An old man? Does that make you uncomfortable? Does that irk you? That I've jizzed my pants over our teacher? And he jizzed his own over me? Rat on us, Ray. Fucking do it. But when Mr. Iero and I leave this godforsaken town, and nobody has evidence of your claims or where we've gone, I hope you enjoy my father, my mother and possibly Mr. Iero suing you for your 'false accusations'. There's no physical proof of us, speculate all you want, Toro. Nobody will ever believe that a teacher who's been on the schoolboard for seven years straight would fuck up that bad and have an affair with a student." I was out of breath by time I was done. Ray's face was ghost white, his eyes popping out of his head, his mouth hung open slightly.
I shook my head. "Get the fuck out of my house before I scream."
Ray gulped and scrambled off my floor, knocking into my dresser and tripping over a discarded shirt on my floor as he ran out of my room. I was proud of myself for scaring him a little like that, there was no doubt he was petrified from my vulgar words. I knew I was in deep shit for what I'd said, but really, it didn't fucking matter because Frank and I were going to leave. I was sure of that. We were going to runaway somewhere, even if he thought it was ridiculous. I smirked to myself. My day was already planned out in my head.

---

To say Frank was ecstatic to see me when I showed up on his doorstep at exactly 12:46 pm, is a huge understatement. A smile ridged across his face and almost immediately wrapped his arms around me as soon as he opened the door. I rested my chin on his shoulder as I felt him rub the back of my hair with his palm.
"What're you doin' here?" He asked softly, holding me a little tighter.
"I'm just, lonely. And worried. I guess." I sighed, "I literally have not left you alone all weekend, I'm sorry."
"Oh hush." He smiled and pulled into his home with one arm wrapped around my waist now.
He sat me down at his kitchen table, taking the seat next to me and holding both my hands in his on the table. He looked casual, tired as always. His attire didn't seem like the usual him, wearing black basketball shorts and a plain white T-shirt. I liked, though. He looked good in anything. I looked down at his tattoos that were also on his legs. I hadn't seen those ones before, but there was a ton of them clustered there perfectly. Just like the rest of his body.
He sighed, "You walked here in the cold."
"Yes." I responded.
"Don't do that again. At least until the weather gets warmer."
"Fine."
"Good." He smiled his dumb smile and raised my hand to press a kiss to my knuckles, "Is everything okay, though? I can tell there's something so don't even try to deny, hun."
I pursed my lips, looking down at my faded jeans. "I went off on Ray, really badly, actually. Like, I scared him. It kinda just happened without me really trying, I just spilled everything."
Frank nodded slowly. "Push you hair out of your eyes."
I tucked a few fringes of hair into the rest of my messy hair, "You're avoiding what I'm saying."
"That's very true." He replied airily. "I'm happy you're here."
I felt myself blushing. "I am too. I needed to get away."
"Of course. I was just um, fixing stuff in my room before you got here and I have to kinda finish it so, you're welcome to come up with me if you'd like."
I nodded and he pulled me to lead us up the narrow stairs of his townhouse. Frank's bedroom was really what I had expected. Neat and tidy, everything looking complete and perfect in place. The walls were a satisfying color of grey. They were soft on the eyes and filled my heart with some kind of artistic warmth. The comforter on his bed was navy blue, which was also expected. I knew he must've liked navy blue, a lot of his sweaters were that solid color. He had a shelf which, as I assumed, was filled with more vinyls that he'd collected. And aligned against his far wall, near his single window in the back of the room, were four guitars. They were gorgeous. Red, blue, purple and white.
"I'm just packing stuff that I need to put in storage, I'll be done in a few seconds and we can do something, okay?" He said buoyantly. I smiled at him and dipped my head to give him the reassurance of an answer while I sat myself on his bed. He sat on his knees on the floor with a few large boxes and a roll of tape at his side, boxing up everything he was putting out. I watched him, of course. Looking at the way his hair flowed every time he moved without a care in the world. I kicked my shoes off at the edge of his bed, my eyes never disconnecting from his working body.
"Do I annoy you?" I inquired suddenly. It was a genuine question honestly. I literally showed up to his house two days in row right after sneaking out to see him in the middle of the night.
Frank stopped what he was doing and looked up at me from the floor until he stood up slowly and walked to where I was sitting. His golden eyes were staring right into mine, he stood at the edge of the bed right near where my slightly parted legs were dangling over the edge.
"No, you do not. You never will." He finally told me, his voice full with only seriousness. I stared up at him with puppy dog eyes, signaling him that I wanted his affection more than anything right now. He kissed me, hard. So hard that he knocked me back down onto the bed, hovering himself over me as our lips stayed glued together. Our lips moved calmly in sync at first, when his hand placed itself on my thigh. I was relaxed, letting him kiss me slowly and smoothly, until he slid his hand up higher in one graceful movement. I was still calm, but at the same time my heart was racing with adrenaline. He was fully on top of me now, scooting our bodies up to the middle of the bed where it wasn't as awkward. He rolled his body slowly up and down mine as he hitched my thighs around his hips. His lips left mine and they trailed down my jaw, getting to my neck. Tingles went through my body as he kissed it over and over again.
"I can stop...if you want." He breathed as he kissed back up my jaw, "I can if you need me to.."
I didn't answer him and he kissed my lips again. He might have been able to stop, but I knew he couldn't. I didn't want him to stop either. His kisses were hot at that point, not as smooth as they were when he'd started. They were urgent and I could barely keep up. He kissed me in some type of way that made me so wanted, not just in the emotional, senseful, type of way. But physically, and I could feel that through his shorts.
It was strange how normal it felt to be doing that, like we'd been doing it for years on end. It made sense, and it felt more than completely natural for my hand to slide up his T-shirt and run itself all over his chest. Then down, to where I could feel how turned on he was from the simple act of us making out. That gave me confidence, confidence to place my hand over his bulge. He pushed back a little and and looked down at me. I bit my bottom lip, feeling my body go ten times hotter as my hand slid itself passed the waistband of his shorts and his boxers. I blinked my eyes in contemplation before making the decision to wrap my hand around him.
"Fuck," He gasped, "Gerard, honey, are you sure?" Yes. I nodded. I was more way more than sure.
"How far do you want this to go? G, you can do whatever you want to me, but what do you want me to do for you?" He trailed off.
I tried to speak, but I couldn't get any words out. I wasn't intimidated by him, I just couldn't speak. Instead, using my free hand, I unzipped my jeans and tugged one of his hands to slip under my boxers. I looked up at him again. "Just that, please." I managed to say.
He nodded and leaned down, kissing me again. Then, for the first time ever, I had someone physically touching me down there. And, fuck, it felt so good. There was so much warmth, it ran through my whole body causing me to squirm and push against him whilst trying to do that ti him as well at the same time. He was moaning softly, his face inches from mine while I let out tiny pants and squeaks of satisfaction from whatever he was doing to me. It felt so good to be touched my someone else. Frank especially. Rubbing, stroking, squeezing, without any hesitation whatsoever except to make sure I was alright.
He roughly tugged my jeans and boxers down a little more to get a better grip on me, doing the same to himself so I had an advantage too. Then we kept going. That's when the feeling came, where we were both desperate again, the burn was back and we were clinging to each other just as the day before. I was so close to being at my most vulnerable with him again, moaning against his lips. "Mark me." I pleaded quietly.
He listened. His hand still worked at me as his other pulled down my shirt a little to expose my collarbone where he began skimming his lips over the skin until he was mouthing, licking, biting. I felt my self-control completely vanish. My teeth clenched. My moans became deep gasps as he groaned against my neck that was now becoming littered in maroon bitemarks. He didn't stop touching me. I never stopped touching him. Then we both released. Me coming undone before him.
We were completely still afterwards, my head on his chest as he lazily held me in his arms. I could feel his chest go up and down with each breath. I could've stayed there forever.
"Frank," I said softly.
"Uh huh."
"I wanna leave Belleville. So bad." I stated.
"Why's that?" He slurred, his fingers twirling my hair.
"So we can be together."
"We are together."
"No. I wanna be able to go outside and hold your hand and not be afraid of constant judgement." I told him.
"You're sick of it here, yeah?"
I nodded against his chest.
"You want somewhere with more meaning?" He asked.
I nodded again.
"Because you're an artist." He stated.
Another nod.
"And you see a meaning in everything, don't you? You see the world differently."
"I like to think that I do, at least."
"You're amazing." He sighed happily.
"You're yellow paint." I said.
"You're an artist."
"And you're a piece of art."

Notes

this was long and irrelevant its also 2am yr welcome ily give me comments bc i stayed up until 2 writing this even tho i have prom tomorrow xxxx