Crash Into My ***ing Arms

I had gone downstairs to make myself a small lunch, and when I got back upstairs to check on Frank, I found him sitting doubled over on the edge of my bed, arms wrapped tightly around his stomach.

“Are you okay?” I asked worriedly, crossing quickly to him and putting a hand on his back. He was shivering. “Frankie?”

“G-gee... My head hurts real bad.”

“Yeah, you’re just a little-”

“Hungover. I know. I wish it would go away...” He stood up and sighed shakily. “Bathroom?”

“Go ahead.” I motioned towards the hall and the stairs.

When he was finished, he stepped out of the bathroom and came over to me. He looked much better now, slightly pale, but a lot better. “D’you wanna go see a movie today or something?” he asked shyly.

The question had been unexpected, and I shrugged. “Uh... okay...”

“Great!” He tried to grin. Damn, he was cute with that lopsided smile lighting up his pale face.

“What movie?”

He shrugged, and I realized he hadn’t had any in mind. “We could just look at what’s playing when we get there...” When I agreed, his smile widened, warming me from the inside out.

I told Mikey where we were going, and then we called a taxi and got a ride to the closest movie theater.

Once there, we picked a horror movie from the list of chick flicks and teen dramas.

“Princess Diaries? I’m not that gay,” Frankie whispered in my ear with a shyly mischievous smile, and I brought my lips to his ear in return.

“Yeah right.”

We bought tickets to the scariest film playing, then went into the theater and settled down in the very back row of the room, which was close to empty. We were already a few minutes late, and the movie started almost immediately.

The plot unfolded pretty typically of any horror flick, and the chills and thrills were due more to the intense camera work and sharp suspenseful turns with plenty of surprises in the form of shapes jumping from closets and blood-painted walls than the originality of the dialogue or situations.

By the middle of the movie, Frankie was curled tightly against me, shivering just slightly. His clammy fingers were twined tightly in mine. It was obvious that he was somewhat scared, and I held him close to assure him that I would keep him safe. “Frankie... sweetie, if you wanna leave-”

“No!” he hissed, pulling away from me. “God, I’m f-fucking fine!”

I leaned over to kiss his cheek; he flinched. “I love you...”

“I love you too, Gee... Swear to god I do... S-sorry I’m being such a fucking f-faggot...”

I pulled him close again; he didn’t fight it, leaning his head back on my shoulder. “You’re not. It’s okay... It’s okay.”

He smiled a little. God, that smile...

When the credits were rolling down the screen, Frank got unsteadily to his feet and I followed him down the theater stairs and out of the still-dark room into the theater lobby. We headed towards the exit and out into the cool air, swollen sky dark with rainclouds.

I looked over at Frank, who was busy lighting a cigarette with his cheap red plastic lighter. Trying to make conversation, I shrugged. “Did you like the movie, a little at least?”

“The sex scene.” Frankie shot me a glance, then smiled widely when he saw that I thought his joke was funny.

That smile again. That fucking smile. “Frankie-” My voice came out low and husky.

He knew that I wanted him, cigarette dangling seductively from his lower lip, light pink tongue darting out next to it and brushing the small metal ring which pierced his skin.

Butterflies danced along my veins. I was losing control, but I had to keep reminding myself to cling to my sanity before I ended up hurting him again.

“Gerard?” Frankie murmured around the cigarette, his gaze tracing its way up one of my legs to my thigh.

I squirmed. “Yeah?”

“Don’t just fucking stand there.”

I was shuddering. The way my heartbeat was already pounding out of my control made me afraid that I would end up breaking him again. I stalled. “Frankie...”

“Gerard!” His voice was filled with all the frustration and urgency and raw need that I was feeling inside, making me want him even more.

I reached out a trembling hand to touch his face.

Before I could do anything, he had let the cigarette fall to the pavement and pulled me close, pressed hard against his body. Both of his hands were wrapped around the backs of my thighs, keeping me from going anywhere.

With a groan, I pushed him backwards so that he ended up pressed snugly against the brick wall of the city street. It was starting to rain, and the sidewalks were emptying fast, but what people there were stared at us awkwardly. I didn’t care, as Frankie’s tongue slid into my mouth, giving me chills which penetrated way deeper than the damp, cool air could.

Frank was kissing me with all the intensity in his whole body, and I returned the passion with equal force, every moan he made vibrating against my warm lips and channeling down into the pit of my stomach, where they burned like fire.

“Let’s-” He gasped for breath, running his fingers through my hair. “-fucking go-” The air rushed out of his lungs again. “-somewhere.”

I slid a hand across his abdomen. “Where?”

He braced himself against the wall, a series of shudders running through his body. He swore quietly, then let out a desperate moan. “Anywhere.”

Where was there to go? “I know a-” Oh, god, shit, oh. “-motel on this street-” My knees buckled. “B-but it’s a piece of shit-”

“Fine. Fine, Gerard, oh-”

He broke off as I dragged my hands down his back and over his ass, kissing him harder, heavier.

His sweaty fingers twined tightly in mine, I tugged him down the sidewalk towards the motel entrance, barely able to keep my hands off of him for a single instant.

I opened the door to the cramped motel office, shoving Frankie back up against a wall as soon as we were inside the vacant room. I pushed his dark bangs, damp with rain and sweat, out of his eyes and brought my lips desperately back to his. He smelled like cigarettes and sweat and cocaine and sex; the scent making my heartbeat race even faster. I wanted him so bad...

We broke apart as a man came inside from the other entrance, smelling like dirt and cigar smoke. He frowned slightly. “Uh... can I help you?”

I told him what we wanted, a room for the night, and he named the price. As I dug some crumpled bills from my back pocket, Frank rested his hands lightly on either side of my waist from behind, as though he couldn’t bear to lose contact with my body, even for a minute.

The man took my money in grubby fingers and silently handed Frankie and me two room keys.

As soon as we left the office, we were kissing again, barely managing to look up and find our room, which was on the second floor.

We made it inside, and I locked the door tightly, throwing the key and my cellphone on the dresser before grabbing Frankie again by the shoulders and pushing his back against the door with a soft thud. I had his t-shirt up over his head in an instant, kissing his neck and collarbone teasingly. As I spun him so that it was his bare chest in contact with the painted wood of the door and slowed suddenly down, just standing there with his ass against the front of my jeans, he tilted his head back, moaning. “You’re... m-making me... crazy,” he breathed, fingernails drawing little scratches in the white paint in front of him.

I kissed the back of his neck gently, reaching a hand around to unzip his jeans. He shivered against me, leaning back into my arms, then seemed to change his mind, instead dropping to his knees in front of me.

I knew what he wanted to do, heart thudding against my trachea as I tugged off my t-shirt and moved to undo the button of my own jeans.

Frankie was shy about it, obviously nervous and not experienced, but I didn’t care. I twined my fingers in his dark hair and pulled his head further towards me, desperate. I gripped his shoulder tightly with one sweaty hand, my moans increasing in intensity. My whole body suddenly spasmed, sending waves of hot and cold radiating through my aching muscles. Oh god, oh- I pulled Frank to his feet and he leaned against the door again, quietly licking his sweaty lips as I ran my hands along his abdomen again.

His jeans fell to the floor around his feet, scuffed Etnies rubbing against the carpet as he tensed his whole frame tightly. I kissed up the back of his neck, then wrapped my arms around his body in a tight hug, grasped both shoulders and thrust my hips hard. He swore loudly, strangled gasp turning into a low moan as he tilted his head back again, chest held firmly against the motel room door by my moving body.

Frankie gasped loudly and choked out my name with a trembling moan. His eyes were starting to roll back. “Gerard... Gerard. Gerard!” He was screaming now; I clenched my teeth tightly as I ran my fingers down his back, leaving light scratches, and my tense muscles started to shudder again. With one last scream, nearly obscured by the blood pounding in my ears, Frankie dug his short fingernails into the paint of the door, gouging out depressions in the cheap wood, then went limp as the final waves of sensation coursed through our veins. I let out a deep breath and put one hand out to steady myself against the door, light-headed and still gasping for air.

“Gerard... that was f-fucking amazing...” Frankie murmured between breaths, eyes closed.

I bit my lower lip. Say it, you fuck. “You’re... gorgeous, Frankie. You’re beautiful.”

He lifted his head slightly, and his eyes locked on mine. I could see how much my words had meant to him as a cautious smile broke across his face.

He really was fucking gorgeous. I couldn’t imagine that there was anyone else but Frankie, anything else in the whole world... I wanted it to be like this forever, just us two, together, like this. I slid my hands around his waist and kissed him again, more gently.

He grinned, looking up into my eyes, then bringing his lips slowly towards mine. We kissed shyly, almost as if it were the first time. Frankie’s arms went up around my neck as we kissed again. “We’ve got more than sex, right?” he asked me quietly.

I looked into his dark eyes, filled with shyness and concern and passion and... love, and I felt the familiar wave of conviction that I’d had once before. Yes, damnit, I loved him. I loved him. “Yeah... yeah, Frankie, we do. I’m in love with you. Every single fucking inch.”

He grinned, eyes sparkling. “Was that meant to sound dirty?”

“If you want it to.” I smirked and carefully pushed the hair out of his face again.

He reached down to pull his jeans up, zipping and buttoning them and then crossing farther into the room to flop down tiredly on the bed.

I laughed as I realized that we’d ended up with a double. The man from the motel lobby must have seen right through us, not like we hadn’t been completely obvious about it.

Frankie watched me pull my own jeans back on through half-closed eyes from the mattress, a content smile playing on his flawless lips.

I crossed over towards him, and he scooted to one side so that I could sprawl out on the bed as well. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held him close, listening to him breathe, my eyes tracing his tattooed forearms.

He sighed comfortably, curling up close to me and closing his lids lazily. “Let’s go away.”

“What?”

“Let’s go away somewhere,” he murmured. “Just us two. Together. Foreber.”

“I wish we could, Frankie...” I answered slowly, tasting bitter regret for what we’d never really have. It could never really be just the two of us... It would always be like this, hiding from the world, from Mikey, from Frank’s father, hurried fucks in some dirty motel or my car, seeing each other so briefly that Frank wondered if we actually had anything between us but sex.

He sighed again. “Your parents live with you and Mikey?”

I nodded reluctantly. “They’re gonna be home in two days.”

“I gotta find an apartment,” Frankie muttered. “And a better fucking job.”

I didn’t answer, figuring his words were pretty much rhetorical. I stared absently at the cracked and water-damaged ceiling, feeling Frank breathing in my arms, until I drifted into a light sleep.