He's a Bitch

[Gerard POV

As soon as Mikey had gone I quickly crouched down and pulled Frank’s hand away from his face so I could inspect his eye. He flinched as I touched him and shook, those old fears resurfacing. I know that Mikey didn’t know it, but he’d broken Frank just a little more then he already was. In a way, I knew that Frank had had it coming. You couldn’t expect to hurt people and not get anything in return. His misdeeds were catching up with him. But looking down on him, I felt my heart break at just how broken and fearful he was. He was really just a little boy, struggling to cope in this world. He’d had no-one there to help him along his way or that he felt he could confide in…until now at least.

“Shh,” I cooed, gently taking his hand in mine and rubbing the back of it with my thumb.

He gazed guiltily up into my eyes and then immediately fell forward and latched onto me, small sobs emitting from his mouth and being swallowed by the material of my t-shirt. I coiled my arms around his fragile form, one hand resting on the back of his head and the other around his waist as I rocked him gently.

Once he had enough air in his lungs to form coherent words, he apologised repeatedly, each sentence punctured by sobs.

“I-I’m so sorry,” he bawled. “I d-didn’t…I didn’t want to hurt him so bad. I just told him the truth! It was just the truth!”

I pulled his head closer to my chest and kissed his forehead, patting his back and letting him know that I understood. It was never easy breaking up with someone, no matter whether you actually had feelings for them or not, no matter how much they’d hurt you. I knew that from experience.

I knew that Frank needed comforting, but there was a boy upstairs that was heartbroken, angry and confused, that needed me possibly more then Frank at this moment. But I didn’t want to just let him go home like this, so I set to work placing small kisses to Frank’s bruising eye, attempting to kiss it better. It made him feel better, I know that. He started giggling and raised his head so he could bestow a gentle kiss to my lips. When we broke apart I looked seriously into his eyes.

“Are you alright to go home now?” I questioned.

“I-I think so.”

He looked up at me, a false sense of certainty imprinted over his face. I knew that he wasn’t certain about anything anymore. He probably wasn’t even certain about us or where we stood. I gently cupped his face with my hands and his eyes slowly closed as I kissed his forehead.

“I don’t think I’ve ever said this to you,” I whispered as I drew back from him and studied his face. “But you are so beautiful.”

His eyes flickered open and a slight reddish tinge appeared in his cheeks as he looked up at me. I simply smiled and scrambled to my feet, pulling him up with me. He really was beautiful. I think on some subconscious level I’d always noticed it, but I never acknowledged that fact. I didn’t want to find him beautiful back then. But now was a different time and different circumstances. We were both different people or at least, changed people. I’d seen myself in him and looked deep within myself, where I realised that I was still hurting. Bert’s actions were still affecting me and maybe they would for a while to come.

Frank looked at me expectantly as I just stood there, staring into his face and feeling as though I was looking into a mirror. He was hurting, just like me. But maybe in time we would be able to heal each other’s wounds.

I smiled and curled my fingers with Frank’s as I lead him up the garden path, back up the steps and into the house. It was dark inside, a direct contrast to the bright garden filled with vibrant green grass and brightly coloured flowers. But that’s the way I liked it.

I quickly pulled Frank through the house, down the hallway and to the front door, being as quiet as possible so as not to alert Mikey to our presence. The last thing he needs right now is to see his boyfriend, well, ex-boyfriend, holding hands with his brother. His brother who was supposed to hate his ex.

Frank snuck a small innocent kiss before slipping out of the front door and sprinting off down the front path and onto the sidewalk. He turned when he reached it, smiling secretly at me before running off in the direction of his street. I watched after him; I wanted to go with him and make sure that he got home safely, but it was only two in the afternoon. He should be fine.

I closed the door softly behind me as I walked over to the stairs leading up to the second story of our house. I had more pressing matters on my hands now, and I wondered how I was a supposed to console my heartbroken brother without being a complete hypocrite. I guess I’d just have to go with my brotherly instincts. But…they sometimes get me in trouble. Like that time I got suspended from school for punching some asshole in the face when I heard him call Mikey a fag. I was suspended for two weeks but it was worth it.

I took in a deep breath and climbed the stairs, my shoes making a muffled thud against each one as I went up. The sobbing became audible as I neared Mikey’s bedroom door and I twisted the door handle, hoping that he hadn’t locked it. Thankfully, the door creaked open and I stepped inside to be faced with a weeping Mikey, face buried in his pillow. It really broke my heart to see him like this. I quickly shut the door and crept over to his bed, sitting down on the edge and waiting for him to acknowledge my presence. It took a while, but he finally raised his face out of the pillow and rolled onto his side to face me. He opened his arms for me, pleading for a hug and I immediately oblidged, letting him get lost in the embrace.

It was a few moments before he spoke, but when he did he sounded like a small child, scared and alone.

“H-how could he do this to me?” he sobbed, attempting to sniff back tears. “I-I love him, Gee. I fucking love him.”

I didn't have an answer. I wanted to tell him so bad, but the selfish part of me didn't want Mikey to be angry with me. And the non-selfish part didn't want Mikey to be more upset then he already was. So I didn't say anything; I was there for him with actions instead of words.

“I think he was cheating again,” Mikey sniffed, voice suddenly darkening. “He said there was someone else a-and he told me he never loved me!” Mikey sounded hysterical. “He said it to my fucking face!”

I sighed, torn between being happy that Mikey wouldn't be hurt by Frank anymore and being sad because I knew that being hurt by someone you love is one of the worst feelings in the world.

So I sat there, hugging Mikey until my arms were sore. And when they were, we both lay down and I let him fall asleep curled next to me. I promised to spend all of Sunday with him; we'd watch movies and eat icecream with sprinkles and chocolate syrup and Mikey could cry and use up as many tissues as he wanted. It wasn't fair, but a little part of me couldn't help resenting Frank for the state that Mikey was in. But I asked him to break up with Mikey, so it's my fault as much as his.

I looked over at Mikey, sleeping so peacefully, his face still stained with tears and shadows of emotional pain contorting his features. This boy had been through so much anguish, I really hoped he'd find someone else to love and who'd love him back. He deserved it. Pity he wasn't bi; from the sound of things that Emma girl likes him.

I sighed and rolled closer to him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders to let him know that I was still there. That I'd always be there.