High School Is the Least of Our Worries.

Gerard.

Frank seems happy. It’s really weird! Not that it’s weird that he’s happy, but he’s happy that he’s with me!

That’s never happened to me before.

I’m on a high, but not too out-front about it. That’s also never happened to me before.

This new school, this new chance, this new friend is all a new experience for me. I can’t remember having any friends other than Mikey.

I love Mikey so much, it kills me. But with Frank, it’s so much more intense.

Eventually we run out to the trampoline, giggling, and I feel like a little kid again. We are bouncing up and down on it, laughing and tickling each other as we run around the vast space. He’s chasing me, faster and faster until eventually he rugby tackles me to the ground and we roll around giggling. He’s on top of me, looking into my eyes. I shove him off me and pull him up, leaping onto his back and he runs around with me hanging on for dear life. He’s having a great time, I assume from his eyes. His eyes have the genuine laughter in his eyes, no longer the cruel laughter I saw just yesterday.

He pulls me down again and lies on me once more, obviously keen to get me in that position. He looks around nervously, as if expecting someone to come out and find us, but decides against this thought as he pecks me on the lips.

I grin and he rolls off me, and we just lie there, looking up at the star-filled sky, holding hands under the moonlight.

Frank.

I lie next to Gerard on the cool grass. Our fingers entwined as I rub the side of his hand with my thumb.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper as I gaze up at the night sky.

“It really is,” He whispers back, “Me and Mikey used to do this all the time with our dad, he would take us to the beach and we used to lie there… just gazing at the stars for hours,” I notice his voice cracks slightly

“When did it happen?” I ask softly, turning on my side to face him.

“Last year, h-he killed himself… he hung himself in the basement,” He whispers, I can see the tears shining on his face. I lean over and kiss his cheek, tasting the tears littering his cheeks.

“O-our mom was never home and when she was home s-she was drunk or high or b-both,” He stammers “He couldn’t handle it… s-so he left me,” He whimpers, his bottom lip trembling. I bite my lip and stroke his cheek lightly.

Gerard.

I shiver at the touch of Frank’s lips on my cheek. I suddenly feel cold. Talking about my dad like this brought back bad memories. Memories I can’t even bear to say now. I know what I must do. But I push them aside. I start to shiver and Frank wraps his arms around me. I’m glad that it’s now dark, and therefore his mom couldn’t barge outside and see us.

I break free of Frank’s grasp, and start pacing around.

“Where are you going?” I hear Frank ask. I don’t answer. My thoughts are confused, like they’re arguing between themselves.

God, I fucking wanna fuck him. But will he speak to you again? Like I care, I just wanna make love to him, right here and now. But you do care, I know you do…

The thoughts are overpowering my senses. I cann’t hear anything but their debate inside my head. When I get to breaking point, I abandon both of them and just
leap on top of Frank. I kiss him passionately, barely coming up for air. He moans against my mouth. I grin, breaking the kiss for a second, panting. I look at him, and he grins back. He looks deliriously happy. Am I doing this to him? I feel on top of the world, knowing I’m giving him this pleasure.

I lean in to kiss him again, desperate to hear him moan again. I grind my crotch against him, hearing him groan, and I feel him rub himself against me. My hand slowly makes its way down to his crotch, and I begin rubbing him through the denim. He moans again, then his eyes suddenly fly open and he scrambled out from under me. He looks really scared. I knew I was going too far.

Frank.

I feel his hand slide down between our bodies, still kissing desperately, our tongues caressing together. He rests his hand over the growing bulge in my jeans and starts rubbing, I moan loudly.

Since when do you get turned on by guys, fucking fag?

I suddenly jump up, pushing him off me as I stand up, my eyes wide. I was terrifiend, absolutely petrified as realisation dawned on me. I was kissing another guy. That made me a fag, that made me an outcast…

“I’m not gay!” I yell to no one in particular as I bury my face in my hands. I can tell Gerard’s watching me, but at this very second I really couldn’t care less.

“I’m not gay I’m not gay I’m not gay!” I scream, my voice echoing in the silent night. I then whip around and see Gerard sitting on the grass.

“What the fuck were you doing!?” I yell at him, glaring as I tower over him as he sits on the ground.

“I-I thought this was what you wanted,” he says quietly.

“But I’m not gay! How could this be what I want if I’m not gay?!” I question, getting to the point of being hysterical. He opens and closes his mouth, unsure of what to say.

“Oh just fuck off and go home!” I say frustrated.

“O-okay,” he whispers, standing up slowly, he comes towards me slowly, his arms outstretched slightly. I scoff at his gesture and his arms drop to his sides as he bites his lip, tears shining in his eyes but not falling.

“Bye then,” he whispers as he walks off, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Oh fuck.