Freight Hopper

His apartment is quaint, nothing like Kamry’s bright and spacious home, but comfortable still. Mikey takes charge of Kamry, offering to put on a pot of coffee. Gerard knows he needs Frank alone, knows solitude is the only way he’ll be able to reach him.

“Will you come with me?” He whispers in Frank’s ear. He nods, and Gerard takes his hand, and pulls him into his bedroom.

Gerard is sitting on the edge of his bed, Frank on the chair opposite him. Frank is biting his nails, completely unsure of what to say or do. It seems an insufferable amount of silenced time before either boy moves, talks, anything. It is Gerard who finally realizes he must be the one to take charge, he must be strong. Gerard who stands and kneels in front of a shy, anxious Frank, who feels as though he’s on the verge of tears. He rests his hands on Frank’s knees, “Look at me,” he commands, and Frank can’t help the sensation of helplessness that washes over him. He shakes his head, pressing his hands against his face, willing himself not to cry, not to scream, not to run, but before he can shy away, Gerard takes his hands from his face, stroking them gently. “Look at me,” he says in a delicate, softer tone. Frank lifts his face, and Gerard smiles, really smiles, for the first time in years, but the guilt overcome of Frank does not allow him to return the happiness that has burst from Gerard. It crushes him in tsunami like waves, hindering his heart with the deadliest of crashes. The tears come, and Gerard encircles his arms around him; he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t have to he knows, and that okay because Frank doesn’t want him to speak either, He just wants the cry, sob even, cry and be held, the way he’s always longed so deeply to, and through the guilt he is hit with a satisfying sense of relief.

It’s a long, long time before either lets go, and when they finally do it’s only a moment, really, and seconds late Frank is burying his face into the warm crevice of Gerard’s neck, and Gerard is rubbing his back softly, making soft shushing sounds, and willing the boy not to let him go. He wants this moment, this feeling that has surged within him to last forever and one more day. He’s waited years for this, this feeling, this scene, and he is overwhelmed with joy, but the situation is so delicate, so frighteningly fragile, he’s not sure if it will hold, not sure if it has the will and strength to survive. He refuses to let go, but he does not if that will be enough.

Mikey knocks sometimes later, asking if they’d like some coffee, and Frank merely nods from Gerard’s neck, and sniffles a bit, They’re there still when Mikey enters carrying two steaming mugs, with an added tissue for Frank, who accepts it appreciatively. They drink in silence, but it’s okay, it’s fine, because the tension has dissipated, leaving, to some extent, comfort in it’s place.

It’s long after they’ve finished their coffee Gerard finally asks. Frank is curled up in his arms again, on his bed now, and, at first, Gerard’s words are so incoherent Frank can’t reply simply because he’s no idea what Gerard has said. He looks up with a frightful, confused expression, and Gerard sighs, taking in a deep, much needed breath.

“Why did you leave?” Frank unfurls himself, and scoots away, sighing. “No,” Gerard says, “Please, Frank. Please don’t run away from me anymore.” Frank lets his head fall to his hands, and sniffs, “Why didn’t you stay? Why? I wanted you to stay, I missed you so much, I- I....” Gerard trails off, not knowing how to express the rest of what is going on in his mind. Frank pulls his knees to his chest securely, hiding his face. This moment, this second, this is what he has been longing for, running from, for three years. He knew it would come, wanted it to come, wanted to avoid it at all costs, but he didn’t know how to face it, face the guilt.

“Sorry,” he breathes, “So sorry, sorry,” he repeats quietly, and when he’s ready, he summons his courage, looks Gerard directly in the eyes, and says, “I’m so sorry.” It’s another moment, after he’s gathered, somewhat, his thoughts before he continues, “I...I think maybe I might have stayed or at least come home sooner if I had just listened to you. I should have, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, I should have listened, it wasn’t fair, but I was just so fucking stubborn, I’m sorry.” he cries, and Gerard reaches for him, but he shakes his head, and Gerard recoils distantly, “I need to say this. I know I should have listened, and when I turned around I might have, and maybe, at that moment, you could have convinced me to stay, but then...t-then you...the truck,” his voice breaks, and his chest heaves, and it hurts, so agonizingly, so deep and painfully hurts, “I thought you were dead. I didn’t think you’d be able to survive a hit like like that; I thought you were dead, gone, forever, and I thought I had killed you. And I knew even if by some miracle you were alive, you would hate me, the way I hate myself. I-I’m just so sorry.” The tears are coming in fitfuls of waves, and he looks so alone, broken, so terrified, and Gerard just can’t bear to watch him like that. He collects him in his arms, even against Frank’s protest because he knows this is what he needs, what they both need.

“Oh Frank,” he sigh, “Frank, I could never, ever hate you. Never. I don’t know how to hate you,” he sighs again. “Frank I don’t hate you...I don’t blame you for anything either...I-I...” Frank is confused. He has never heard Gerard this...nervous, shaken, unsure, and when Gerard whispers “I love you too much to hate you,” Frank is awestruck, positive he’s heard him wrong, imagining things. But when it hits him that Gerard is all business, that he’s not in some wonderful fantasy land, his reply comes from within him, and he’s perfectly, one hundred percent okay with what it is because he knows, in his heart, it is the truth, and always has been.

“I love you too.” He murmurs into the shell of Gerard’s ear. Gerard bursts into a grin, and his eyes are glowing with joy, and when he hesitantly leans toward Frank, neither is scared, unwilling. And they have so much more to talk about, work out, twenty more mountains still to conquer, but none of that matters right this very moment, because they only thing either of them cares of right now is each other. Their lips press together in the gentlest of kisses; they’ve been here before, this territory is not completely unfamiliar, but it’s never been anything like this. The initial timidness of the kiss melts with their surroundings as they fall into a world completely of their own. And what began with gentle hesitation deepens quickly, and soon it’s as though their making up for lost time. Gerard wants to feel, remember every part of Frank, and Frank is not opposed, gives himself to Gerard in the noblest of ways, and everything is hot and lovely, until Frank has to pull away from lack of air, and they are in sheer ecstasy together, and he hears Gerard sigh happily, murmuring a blissful “yes.”

They are laying together, Gerard playing with the back of Frank’s hair, “Frank, can I ask you a question?” Gerard feels him nod against his skin, and Gerard says, “Why were you gone so long?” Frank is silent for a long time, pondering a question he doesn’t know the full answer to.

“I think when you-when...when the truck...hit you,” he swallows, “I think that made me stop running from them, and start running from you.”

Gerard doesn’t respond, doesn’t really know how to respond, just places a soft kiss on Frank’s lips, and forces a smile. Frank reaches out and pushes the hair away from his eyes, stroking his cheek carefully, and it’s the first time he has been the one to reach out, first time he has initiated contact of sort, and it’s a good step, Gerard thinks. But, even if Frank hadn’t made a step just then, everything still would have been okay, still would have been a beautiful moment because there was nothing, no evil in the world that could possible taint his joy right now. The happiness he felt was almost ridiculously overwhelming, and he knows, at some point, they’d have to come out of this trance they’d tumbled into, but both are utterly unconcerned presently, because it just feels so good to be right there, holding each other as if it were their last moments.

Frank’s eyes ache from crying, but Gerard is there, running his finger along Frank’s tummy, so really, everything is just okay, everything is peaceful, calm, the way it always should have been. He’s not sure when they drifted off. All he remembers are his eyes becoming surprisingly heavy, and he tries, tries to beat them, keeps fidgeting and rubbing his eyes to stay awake, but when Gerard makes a soft shushing sound and kisses his temple murmuring “Just stay with me,” Frank has no choice; he must succumb. He’s no idea of what tomorrow holds, but it’s okay, it’s all right, because for the first time, in a long, long time, he won’t have to face anything alone.