Love Like Summer

About four days went by before Gerard decided to go and try to explain things to Frank. Satisfied with however much money her son had made her along with causing a friendship to crash and burn, Donna had left the day before, stress lifting from the boy’s shoulders the second she’d stepped out the door. Mikey’s cluelessness to everything made Gerard smile, and make the decision to pay Frank a visit. As the older paced outside of his door, waiting for the younger to answer, he began to wonder if he’d made the right choice.

Frank answered a moment later, his expression going from exhaustion to shock, as he looked his visitor up and down. “Come in, I guess.” He offered, turning and walking back inside, Gerard in tow. He wondered why the former hadn’t asked his purpose of being there but he didn’t mind, and wasn’t about to ask.

“We should talk…” Gerard closed the door behind him, as the other watched him over his shoulder, as if taking caution. Frank then threw himself on the couch, and motioned for Gerard to join him. The older laughed in his head, slightly confused by the other’s actions – but not bothered. He took the invite, and sat down.

“What’s there to say?” Frank muttered, not looking at him. The last few days had been a painful hell. He hadn’t eaten much at all, but when he did, it was far too much – too much to stay in him, anyway, and he began taking Martin’s advice on what he should do about it. He asked the men that fucked him to be brutal, lube becoming poison to him, and Beatrice never let him be when his mind wasn’t flooded with the sensation of the now familiar, painful pleasure. Beatrice claimed Gerard was just competition and was eager to keep him busy; Martian was certain Gerard wanted to fuck him for free -- knocking him out of the game would just double his satisfaction. The whole affair was driving the poor boy to closer to insanity as time passed.

“Look, Frank, you’ve got this all wrong…maybe I should tell you a little story to clarify.” Gerard offered. Frank raised an eyebrow at the other’s words, thinking it over. He knew if he didn’t let Gerard lie for self-satisfaction and false hope at restarting the friendship, he should do it for a laugh, at least.

Frank sat sideways, preparing for a wonderful tale. “Why not?” And with nothing but a deep sigh, Gerard began. He started on the eve of his tenth birthday and went until a few days prior – including the beating, the threats, the move, and everything in between. By the end, Gerard was so close to tears he seemed to be trembling, eyes glossy and shining with pure depression. No, this was no lie – hysteria like this was too hard to fake.

“…and it’s not that I-I want sympathy or shit like t-that and I’m not just trying to-m-make up some sob story to use you. I just – I’ll worry myself sick thinking you’re putting yourself through what I was put through ‘cause your parents are homophobic.” Gerard ended, looking up at Frank for the first time since he started his story.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Frank replied, “and you don’t have to repay me either. I’ll be just fine.” He then attempted reassuring smile, failing miserably.

Gerard sighed roughly. “I can’t not worry about you…I care to-“

“Well, you never seemed to care before.” Frank interrupted. “It was always about you being okay. Even when you found me and Max, it was about you being a hero. And now, about you and your miserable, unfortunate life. Well, guess what – we all have miserable lives. Just because you’re gorgeous doesn’t mean you’re the only life that matters!” Frank stood then, walking into the kitchen. Perhaps he was too harsh – perhaps he was to honest.

“That’s not true!” Gerard cried after Frank excited the room. Gorgeous? Was there a compliment hidden in the insult? The younger was being irrational. Gerard felt there was a different reason Frank wasn’t hearing him out. What that reason was, he had yet to find out.

God, he’s so sweet, the poor boy. Frank thought, head leaning against the freezer. Eyes closed, he tried to think of what to do, how to react. His feelings for Gerard were stronger now, nearly consuming his thoughts. His smile, his voice, his glowing eyes – he was gorgeous.
And now he knows you think he’s gorgeous. Way to go, Gay Boy. Beatrice reminded him. Frank let out a long sigh. That’s right; he was gorgeous and was the only one that mattered – right, Frank? The sad thing was, he believed what he had told the older boy himself – his was the only life that mattered. But, he believed Gerard too, of course, and needed to fix this – was he really too proud to take him back?

Gerard sat in the living room and thought of what to do next. Leave? Call Mikey? Cry? Scream at Frank, the way the normal, heartless Gerard would have done by now? Suddenly, he felt himself being pinned down to the couch, his eyes closing in the process. Gerard opened his eyes after a moment and found a grinning Frank straddling his hips. Gerard blushed.

“Okay, look…I’m sorry about your mom, and for overreacting. I was just…hurt, I guess. I don’t want us to not be friends.” Frank confessed, biting at his lip ring. Gerard smirked up at the beautiful boy still on top of him.
“It’s okay.” Gerard breathed simply. Frank smiled, eyes sparkling. Gerard gawked at the younger boy – his dark hair, his worn eyeliner, his flawless skin. Hell, everything about the boy was flawless. Gee, man, don’t think this way…He thought to himself as Frank climbed off of him.

“So, what do we do now?” Frank asked. Gerard shrugged as he sat up watching as Frank strolled around in the room in the direction of his bedroom. Gerard struggled to speak, to breath.

“Well, I don’t know too much about you, so…tell me stuff.” Gerard offered, following Frank into his room. It was simple – a dresser, bed, end table, radio – a guitar. “Whoa!” Gerard gawked at it.

“You’ve never seen a guitar before?” Frank asked with a vague, false annoyance.

“I use to play,” Gerard started, “or, tried to, anyway. I was sorta in a band, but, I can’t play ‘ Sweet Home Alabama,’ so they kicked me out. Yea -- I suck.” Gerard explained, examining the guitar. It was beautiful, but plain; a simple white. It needed something, but he’d consider what later. “Play me something? Please?” Gerard asked.

Frank, feeling flattered, picked up his guitar and plugged it into an amp in the corner of the room, which Gerard had somehow overlooked. The younger sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at Gerard. ”What do you wanna hear?”

Gerard shrugged and watched Frank’s eyes travel, trying to think of which of the two songs he’d learned to play. Suddenly, Frank grabbed a guitar pick from the end table and began to play, fingers moving swiftly. The rhythmatic melody quickly filled the room; sending Gerard in a trance, watching the boy produce such beautiful instrumental. He couldn’t recognize it, and as Frank stopped several moments later, he smiled.

“That was brilliant. I could never pull that off…what was it?” A shy smile accompanied the warm, scarlet blush that coated Frank’s cheeks.

“I wrote it myself.” He said quickly, looking at Gerard through his lashed. “I’ve been playing for a little while, but that and two other real songs are all I can play…I’m not to good myself.” The younger confessed.

“Well, I thought it was incredible.” Gerard commented. Frank returned only half a smile, as Gerard sat next to him.

“Perhaps I could try and teach you something, ‘eh?”

“I doubt it.” Gerard said negatively. “I mean, why not?! Can’t guarantee I’ll be able to do it, but, hell, why not try?” The older one added more optimistically, after seeing Frank’s disheartened expression.

“You’re not going to break into song and dance now, are you?” Frank asked playfully, a hint of caution in his voice. Gerard laughed softly in reply, pushing the younger’s shoulder, causing them both to smile.

The rest of the afternoon was spent talking and getting to know one another. Both were into the same genre of music and movies, and neither were too keen on school. By the time Gerard left, both boys felt happy again, glad to know one another, and glad to be alive. As night fell, Gerard felt strangely comfortable. He hated it, because it was because of Frank.