Crash Into My ***ing Arms

I woke up, my brain running the routine check to make certain that I knew where I was, and why. Rubbing my eyes, I sat up and looked around. Oh shit. “Frank?” He wasn’t lying next to me anymore. “Frankie?!”

I bolted to my feet and looked around the room for some clue- a note, anything. Barely comprehending that he really had disappeared, I went to the door, shoving it open and stepping out onto the second-floor balcony. A box of cigarettes that I recognized as Frank’s was lying on the concrete, and I picked it up. I thought I heard a cry from around the side of the building, and I turned hurriedly in that direction. “Frankie?”

I rounded the corner and stopped dead. Two men had Frankie by the arms, pushed up against the short balcony railing, tipped backwards so that he would fall if they let him go. “You fucking little faggot,” one of them was growling, smirking. “Marty told us what you and your faggot friend were doing when he walked into the lobby.”

“P-please-”

“Let him go!” I was already pulling a penknife from my jeans pocket, moving closer to them.

Although they looked slightly taken aback to be caught, neither man made any move to stop hurting Frank. “Let him go?” one sneered, pushing him further over the railing, causing him to whimper pitifully. “Alright, we’ll let the little fucker go.”

“You wouldn’t.”

The man eyed my penknife. “Stay back, or I will.”

“You wanna get arrested, you bastard son of a bitch?” I spat. “If he’s not standing next to me in ten seconds, I’m going to come over there and show you why you don’t ever, ever touch him again, you got that?”

The men looked at each other, then pulled Frankie back up onto the balcony. He rushed over to stand behind me, shaking.

“Aww, hell, we were just fucking around,” said the other man nervously. “Fag can’t take a damn joke...”

“Come on...” his friend muttered, and the two men turned and started walking in the other direction, only one even glancing back.

As soon as they had turned the other corner of the building, I took both of Frankie’s cold hands in mine and led him back around the balcony so that we stood in front of our room. “Are you okay?”

He nodded quietly, rubbing his lower back where the railing’s edge had bit into the skin. I thought he would’ve been even more shaken, but he seemed to be almost resigned. “They wouldn’ta done it.”

“Fuckers.” I handed him the cigarettes.

He took the box and shrugged slightly, teeth catching his bottom lip ever so gently. “I’m okay. Another t-time, maybe, it would’ve bothered me more...” He took a deep breath, and mumbled his next words. “But I don’t care if the whole fucking world calls me a faggot if I’ve got you.”

Did he have any fucking idea how much that meant? Filled up by feeling, I took his face in my hands and kissed him. “Frankie... Oh baby, Frankie...”

“I love you. I’ve... I’ve n-never been in love before...” He looked down shyly, then continued tentatively, voice very quiet. “...I’ve never actually been with a guy before.”

“I know,” I said gently. Frankie looked so uncomfortable, as though he felt embarrassed. “It’s okay, though... There’s nothing wrong with that...”

“It’s just that you’re so much more...” He seemed to squirm. “...like, experienced, and I’m j-just...”

“You’re perfect, Frankie, sweetheart, I promise.” I kissed him again, the slightest spray of rain blowing across our faces.

When our lips parted, he leaned his head against my still-bare chest and seemed to relax a little. “I’d d-die without you, Gee...”

“I’m never gonna let you go, Frankie.” I stroked his hair, realizing just how desperately I wanted to run away forever, to get in a car and drive on until the fucking end with him... We both knew it would never happen.

Frankie pulled away, and I followed him back inside our motel room, watching him sit down on the edge of the bed. He sniffled tiredly and looked up at me. “I’m so happy that I called you, Gerard. That first day. I almost didn’t... I was scared...”

“Well, I’m glad you did.” I went over to him and put both hands on his back, running them lightly over his shoulderblades.

He shivered slightly. “God, how do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“M-make me... want you, just by touching me once, by t-talking to me even... You’re just...”

I smirked gently and kept rubbing his back. “You have the same effect on me.”

“Really?”

“Mmhmm.”

He shivered again. I knew that I should quit while I was ahead, but I wanted him, damnit, and I really couldn’t resist...

He arched his back slightly under my touch, with my hands sliding lower and lower down his spine. He was fucking gorgeous, like a boy made out of porcelain.

“G-gerard...”

“Say it, Frankie.”

“I want you... I fucking want you... oh...” His eyelids flickered.

I eased him down on the mattress, bending over with one hand planted on either side of his head so that our lips could meet.

He sighed, hot breath tickling my skin and prompting me to kiss him even harder, tongues sliding seductively between barely parted lips....

A loud ringing made me jump suddenly, needing another minute to catch my breath. I realized that my cellphone was ringing.

Shit.

“Jus’ leave it,” Frankie moaned, arms encircling my neck and pulling me back to him.

I gave in to temptation and let the cell’s rings eventually fade into nothing as I leaned down again to Frank’s waiting body. Seconds later, however, the high-pitched ringing began again, seemingly twice as shrill. “Motherfucking-” I tore myself away from Frankie with a groan and stumbled to the dresser for the phone. My jeans were unbuckled and hanging low, and I almost tripped before I picked it up, snapping a greeting. “What?”

Of course it was Mikey. “Gerard? Where are you?”

“Who are you, the goddamned babysitter?”

“Just tell me where you are.” He sounded slightly urgent.

“At a motel.”

“A motel? Where?!”

“Near the theater. Why the hell do you care?”

“If you’re with somebody, you might wanna go outside... This is really serious.”

I had no idea what he was talking about. “Enough with the shit, Mikey. I’m busy.” I darted a glance at Frankie, still lying on his back on the bed, shirtless again, with half-closed eyes. He looked incredibly erotic in the dim room.

“I don’t care if you’re busy, Gerard. This is important. Are you by yourself right now?”

I looked back at Frank. “Yeah,” I lied. Instead of going outside, I crossed back over to him, leaning on the edge of the mattress next to where he lay.

“Look, Gerard... Hell, are you even listening?” Mikey sounded somewhere between tense and annoyed.

Frankie’s hand was tracing my collarbone slowly. I could barely breathe. “Yeah, uh-huh. Sure.”

My brother didn’t believe me and sighed, angry and exasperated. “Okay. Gerard, you’ve gotta stop-”

I interrupted. “Look, can’t we just have this conversation another- Ohh...” My voice trailed off as Frankie’s fingers slipped down across my chest. He had scooted closer, and his warm breath was tickling the back of my neck.

“Gerard? What the fuck’s going on? Are you fucking listening or not?” Mikey was really getting pissed.

“I’m listening, I’m listening!”

“You have to stop seeing Frank.”

I sat up in surprise, pissed off. “What the fuck? Not this again...”

Frankie mumbled something in annoyance and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, trying to pull me back down.

I let myself recline again, leaning on the mattress, but I kept pressing Mikey. “What the fuck does that mean?!”

“You heard me, Gerard. I have a reason for it, though. You’re gonna hurt him... you have to come home right now.”

Mikey was completely serious; I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “What are you talking about? How the hell do you think you know this shit?”

“Gee...” Frankie moaned plaintively from beside me, hands around my waist. “Tell whoever that you’ll call ‘em back...”

“Hold on.” I covered the phone. “Wait, Frank!” I had to know what the fuck my brother was saying.

“You can’t hurt the kid much at a movie theater, Gerard.” Mikey’s voice had a smirk in it. “But trust me- you take him to some fucking motel, and you’re asking for a chance to fuck with him, in more than one way.”

“I can’t believe you think you have the right to say that!”

Next to me, Frankie was still pouting from my earlier rebuke.

“Just come home, Gerard.”

“This is ridiculous, I-”

Frankie whimpered from his sprawled position on the mattress, trying to recapture my attention. “You rather be fucking whoev’r your talking to?” he murmured sulkily, lips fixed in a seductive pout.

“Is someone with you?” Mikey questioned suspiciously. “Is he with you?!”

“No, that was... the television; he’s outside, um, smoking.”

Frankie frowned, seeming to realize as I lied that something serious was actually going on. He sat up slightly and gave me an anxious look.

“If you aren’t back here in twenty minutes-”

“You’ll what, come get me, you little fucker? You’re my goddamn little brother. My actions are my own responsibility.”

“What’s going on?” Frank hissed urgently, some of the shyness returning to his eyes.

“You know what, Mikey? Go to fucking hell.” I closed my phone abruptly and sighed darkly.

“Gee?”

“Not now.”

I didn’t look, but I could feel the bed bounce as Frankie got quietly to his feet. The bathroom door clicked shut a few seconds later, and I put my head in my hands, sitting on the very edge of the mattress. What was Mikey’s fucking problem? I slumped back on the bed, but I was feeling restless, and I got to my feet again after only a few minutes. Digging my cigarettes out of my pocket, I went out onto the balcony for a smoke.

It was getting dark outside, a cool wind blowing my hair around my face as I closed the motel room door over behind me. I leaned on the cold metal railing of the balcony, its white paint flaking off slightly under my touch, and watched as a few ashes fell from the end of my cigarette into the darkness below. I sighed. What the hell was I doing anyway? Why was my little brother having such a hard time with Frankie? I just didn’t get it.