After Every Hit I Take

I opened my eyes. It was light out. I gasped for breath, trying to stop my mental urge to cry. God damn it! Frank opened me up to crying.
I bit my lip. This is all my fault. How did Bert find out, though? Mikey, maybe? No, he wouldn't know about it unless-- I gritted my teeth. Frank. He must have spilled to Mikey. Why would he do that to me?!
I weakly rolled over and pain shot through my entire body. I turned back to my stomach, avoiding laying on my back. Bert is a fucking asshole. At least I was all alone in the bed. Good. After last night, I didn't want to see Bert.
After a few minutes, I found the strength and stamina to get up. I wrapped the duvet around myself and walked across the hall to the bathroom. On the way, I couldn't help but stare at the small crimson stain on the fabric, wondering if it was from my face or if Bert ripped me. I hurt all over, I couldn't even tell.
I dragged myself into the shower, burning myself with the scolding hot water. I winced at first, but I just wanted to die. And bring Frank down with me.
After boiling myself in the shower, I wiped down the fogged mirror. I almost screamed at the sight. There was a crimson diamond-shaped scab(almost-scab, it was still wet and bloody in the center) across my cheekbone and a large bruise across the left side of my face from where Bert punched me. I licked my lower lip, tasting a sliver of blood. I sighed and dabbed rubbing alcohol on my cheek and lip.
After cleaning up, I dressed in a pair of jeans, a Misfits t-shirt and a plain black hoodie.
I tip-toed carefully down the hall just in case Bert was in the living room. I peeked around the corner and saw the room was empty.
I looked out the front window and spotted my silver car in the driveway. I half-smiled and grabbed my keys.

"May I help you, Sir...?" the receptionist faded off as she turned to look at me. I glared at her.
"Frank Iero. Where is he?" I spat. I didn't care to be even remotely polite. I licked my scabbed lip as she scanned the room frantically with her wide eyes.
"Oh-- He's right over there!" she said, gesturing behind me in a panic. She obviously wanted to be rid of me as soon as possible. I turned my head, spotting Frank near the payphones. I smiled for a millisecond at her in thanks and made my way across the lobby.
"Hey, Punk!" I said, grabbing him by the collar, half-dragging him down the hall.
"Gerard, what the hell are you doing here?!" Frank asked, fidgeting with my fist on his collar. He looked up and his eyes went wide.
"Why did you tell Mikey about us?" I snapped, glaring at him.
"What-- Well, Mikey's my friend and your brother. I think he deserves to know!" Frank argued.
"Oh, yeah? Well, that little asshole told Bert." I snapped. My voice cracked as I spoke. Frank totally turned me into such a girl.
"I didn't think he would tell anyone!" Frank said, panicking. I gritted my teeth, tightening my grip on his collar. Frank looked straight into my eyes. He seems bolder than usual.
"I just--" Frank muttered half to himself.
"What? Spit it out! Why would you ruin things like that? What could I have possibly done to hurt you as much as you did me?" I asked, staring him hard in the eye. He frowned. I licked my lips.
"You left." He said simply. I crunched my eyebrows in confusion.
"What--?" My grip loosened on his collar. Frank sighed.
How could he be angry that I left? I had to! I was just a patient. We weren't even really together. And I only acted like his boyfriend for that Charlie guy! But, I guess Frank, being the sensitive person he is, fell for it. But, he brought it on himself! You can't be upset about something you caused yourself. But, if I put it that way, I have to blame myself for this mess. I took part in this too. It's not all Frank's fault.
"I'm sorry." We said in unison. I felt his rough fingertips trace my jawbone.
"Hmm..." I was wondering about the calloused fingertips.
"I'm taking up the guitar." Frank mumbled, with a small smile on his lips. I smiled.
Frank leaned in carefully. I sighed and gripped tighter on his shirt. Worry came upon his features when I did so. I smiled and pulled him in by this collar. He smiled against my lips.
"Gerard, you look like you came out of a horror movie." Frank said as he leaned away. I frowned.
"I noticed." I muttered.
"What happened with Bert?" Frank asked. I licked my cut lip.
My left hand was still wrapped tightly on his collar which was probably not of his concern at the moment seeing how I just used the advantage. My smile disappeared. I traced his lips with the thumb of my right hand. I really didn't want to talk about it.
"Nothing." I muttered. Frank rolled his eyes.
"I know something's wrong." He said. I tightened my grip on his shirt.
"It's over." I said. Frank smiled and sympathetically. He looked me right on the eyes, seeming to examine them.
"Hey, Gerard... Are you gonna cry?" Frank asked, placing his left hand on my cheek. Damn it.
"No..." I whispered.
"Aww... Gerard, it's alright." He encouraged, rubbing my arm with his other hand.
I pulled away from him, shaking his hand off my arm.
I backed into the wall and just slid down to the ground. Frank waited a few seconds before coming over to me. Frank knelt next to me, wrapping his arms around my neck. I smiled. I remembered this; it was just like the day before I left. He had held me in the same caring way.
I fought back the tears that tackled the corners of my eyes. Frank kissed my cheek. A tear fell from my right eye; the side where Frank had kissed.
"You turned me into a girl with this whole crying thing." I said, watching Frank from the corner of my eye. He smiled. I felt his warm hand on my chin. He turned my head to look at me.
"I know." He said, smiling before brushing his lips against mine. I licked my lips playfully when he pulled away. He smiled at me.
"I have a room you can stay in." Frank said, playing with a lock of my hair.
"Oh... Okay. But, I don't think I can live in an addict room again." I joked.
"It's not-- follow me." He said, unwrapping his arms from around my neck. He helped me up and guided me by the hand through a few halls that I hadn't even known existed.
He led me outside when a few people were talking around the yard. "Where are we going?" I asked. Frank giggled.
"Close your eyes." He said. I whined and covered my eyes with my free hand.
I heard our footsteps switch from wet grass to asphalt. I heard a lock and a creaky hinge in desperate need of oil.
"Can I look now?" I mumbled.
"Okay, for the past year I've been living in a room in the building. My dad figured that I wanted space from all the patients." Frank began. "What he didn't know, all but one." He added, giggling. I smiled.
"Open your eyes!" Frank squealed happily. I removed my hand. I stood in awe as I stood in front of a 2-storey brick house.
"Oh my, God! Your dad did this for you?" I exclaimed.
"Yeah. Do you need a place to stay?" Frank asked, playing both his hands around mine. I smiled.
"Yes, please." I said.
"Alright! I got a live-in boyfriend!" Frank sing-songed as he did a random little dance. His choice of words surprised me. "Boyfriend"? I smiled anyway. He stopped; probably realizing I'm still here.
"Alright, come on in!" He said happily, pulling my hand.
Inside, the walls were painted a pale white but colour balanced out with Frank's guitar posters. He was really interested in guitars, I guess.
He sat down on a black leather sectional that stretched around a wooden coffee table with remotes and controllers of all kinds. I then noticed the huge TV also surrounded by video games and their consoles. WOW
"Oh my, God." I managed out of my throat, sitting down on the sectional. Frank scooted over next to me.
"You like? I picked out all this stuff." Frank bragged. Wow, I never knew so much money can be made off of rehabilitation. I smiled. He leaned his head on my shoulder idly, his fingers making tiny circles on the faded knees of my jeans.
I wanted to know what he was thinking. Were we, like, "moving in" or just a casual stay-over?
"Want to see the rest?" He asked, stopping his circles. I nodded and he pulled me up with him. He led me around a corner, down a hall with 2 doors on either side near the end. I winced; it dreadfully reminded me of Bert's house. Frank led me to the right-- his bedroom.
He queen-sized bed was covered with a black duvet with red pillows.
He had a full-length mirror on the other end of the room, facing the bed. A nice armoire was conveniently placed next to it.
"Nicely decorated." I complimented him as I approached the bed. On his nightstand was an empty picture frame.
"What's that for?" I asked, pointing at the frame. I turned to look at him. He was smiling as he walked over to me. He wrapped him arms around my waist and looked at me.
"Well, I was thinking of putting a picture of us in there; but we actually have none." He explained. I smiled.
"Well, then, let's get a camera." I said, pressing my lips against his. Before I could lean away, he kept me close, sucking on my lower lip.
He giggled and leaned away. He dropped himself on the bed.
"Frank, what do you have there?" I asked, smiling, eying his hand under the pillow.
"Nothing." He said quickly, shaking his head.
"Are you sure?" I asked, nearing him on the bed. Frank was biting his lip; he was planning something. I slowly slid onto the bed, straddling his waist. I planned to distract him while I investigated.
Frank was smiling and obviously keeping in an I'm-a-genius-so-I'm-way-too-out-of-your-league laugh.
A sweet, stifled moan escaped his lips when our lowers aligned. My hand gently caressed his cheek while the other did the same to his arm.
"Gerard," He breathed. I smiled, leaning into his lips teasingly. "Gotcha!" He squealed, releasing his hand along with a bright flash. I whined childishly when I fell beside him on the bed. He rolled over and rested his hand on my chest, still smiling.
I frowned. "You're mean." I joked. Frank leaned in, kissing me gently. I smiled and he slid his hand around my waist.
Frank giggled and crawled teasingly over me, straddling my waist. Hes gentle, yet guitar-calloused fingertips made their way down to the hem of my shirt. I flinched, remembering this rough position from last night. Frank noticed my hesitation and stopped.
"Gerard, what's wrong?" He asked, lowing his body onto mine, our body parts aligning. I shuddered and slid from under him.
"I don't want to talk about it." I mumbled, avoiding his gaze.
"Is it too early for you to move on?" Frank asked. I frowned. No. Definitely not. Me and Bert are done! That's for sure.
But I went with it.
"Yeah." I breathed. He frowned.
"It's alright. But I still want a picture. Can you smile for me?" He asked, picking me up his disposable camera. I chuckled.
"No, I look horrible." I said, pushing the camera away from me.
"No, come on, please?" Frank pleaded, pushing the camera back towards me. I grinned at his stubbornness
"Alright." I smiled. He smiled and kissed me on the lips. A bright light quickly flashed and Frank broke off the kiss. I licked my lips, finding the new taste of his lips interesting. The mix of strawberry pop tarts and coffee.
"Hm... Where's my coffee?" I asked, smiling.
He smiled shyly.
"So mean..." I pouted. I idly played with the back of his shirt near the hem.
As I did so, he began stroking my cheek. I winced, remembering my scab.
Frank stared me me with frightened eyes. I frowned. "Did he hit you?" Frank asked. I closed my eyes. I didn't want to talk about it.
"Well, did he?" Frank repeated. I bit my lip, watching as the visible worry in Frank's eyes increased.
"Yes." I whispered. He frowned and wrapped his arms around my neck.
"I'm so sorry." Frank whispered into my ear. My face hardened. He should be. Bert hitting me and getting angry is Frank's big mouth giving word to Mikey's bigger mouth leading up to this. Frank noticed my stillness and pushed away.
"God, why did you have to tell Mikey?" I pressed the old subject I was on much earlier. He frowned.
"Mikey's my best friend. I tell him everything." Frank explained. I narrowed my eyes. The answer wasn't good enough.
"So, you don't think of me as your friend? You don't see that telling him would lead to me getting--" I paused looking for a word. I sighed. I lightly pushed Frank off of me. His frown stretched downwards.
"I said I was sorry!" He whispered.
"Saying 'sorry' doesn't cover it, Frank!" I said.
"Gerard, I've told you I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to get hit or angry. I just was so sad you left, I was talking to Mikey and it slipped out." He explained. Frank's soft palms rested on my hand. I looked at him. His hazel-green eyes were darkened and only the tiniest glisten was barely visible around the pupil. His full, pink lips pouted, his cheeks rosy. He looked so adorable. Shit. I can't be mad at him for 5 minutes even if I tried.
"God, I'm sorry." I said, putting my right hand on his.
"It's alright. It's my fault." Frank said. I half-smiled.
Frank stretched to be taller in his seat as he reached to touch his lips with mine. I smiled.
"I love you." I whispered against his lips. Frank smiled.
"I love you, too." He said.
That was the first time we had said that to each other. It was a great feeling. Frank relaxed his back, lowering himself down to my neck. His soft, hot lips brushed against my neck. I frowned and backed away from his lips.
"I'm sorry..." Frank whispered, his fingers brushing across my cheek.
"It's okay." I replied.
"I think you need stitches for this." Frank said, touching the skin around my gash. I frowned.