Eat My Heart Out

My nose is buried in my history book when Mikey and Frank come through the front door. If it weren’t for my dad, I would’ve gone up to greet them. If it weren’t for my dad, I’d probably be up there already, sitting in front of the TV with something delicious, waiting for Mikey and Frank to join me.

But no.

Footsteps come down the stairs quickly. I can tell it’s Frank. Dad never runs, and when Mikey comes down to visit, it sounds like a fucking elephant has decided to drop by.

The door opens slowly.

“Hi,” Frank’s sweet voice says softly and quietly, before his footsteps come closer to me.

“This is partly because none of these explanations seems to reach down deeply enough into the psychological realm where the changes occurred. Some extra factor, one feels, was needed—something which would not wholly account for the change in itself, but was a necessary catalyst.”

I finish the paragraph just before Frank wraps his arms around my neck and throws off my concentration.

He kisses my cheek.

“Hi,” I say back, placing a tissue to indicate both the page and paragraph I’ve made it to, before I close the book.

History is boring. Even though this specific bit is about art and I love art, history is still boring.

Frank kisses my ear.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispers. There’s a slight bit of insecurity in his voice – just the slightest tremble – and I reach up one hand to lace his fingers with mine, while my other reaches up to caress his arm.
“Mikey drives like shit,” he whispers into my ear, and I giggle lightly.

I glance down at Frank’s arm when a finger of mine gets stuck. I guide it out of his sleeve and pick up my caressing again, pushing his sleeve further and further up, revealing more and more skin.

“You should get your license, then,” I say, enjoying the slight warmth he’s giving to me. It’s chillier today than the days have usually been this spring.

“You know I can’t afford it,” he whispers, his breath tickling my neck.

“My parents can’t,” I correct him.

“My dad can’t,” he corrects me back promptly. I smile nostalgically.

I enjoy Frank’s warmth and the tranquil silence, right until Frank’s free hand slowly starts moving down my chest.

I slowly pull away from his touch.

“I have to study,” I say apologetic, giving him a look to match over my shoulder. He glances down at the floor, looking embarrassed.

“Yeah. Sorry,” he says softly and then turns around. I get up quickly and grab him around the waist, kissing his shoulder through his shirt quickly.

“I’m sorry, babe. I’m just kinda stressed out right now,” I mumble into his clothed shoulder, before I kiss his cheek.
“Maybe this weekend, okay?” I asks, my voice muffled as my lips stay pressed against his cheek while I speak. He giggles softly – gorgeously.

“Alright.” He nods. I smile and slowly let go of him. I slap his butt and he squeals.

“Now, go torture Mikey.” I turn around and sit down on my bed again, hearing Frank leave, giggling.

I can’t help but smile.