Passing Looks and Disappointed Faces

[Gerard's P.O.V.]

He seemed so frail, so vulnerable, as I held him in my arms, using the little strength I had to keep him up, pressed against my cold body. I could feel his fingers dancing at the back of my neck, toying with my hair. I could feel the smile that would sometimes play across his lips as we kissed. But most importantly, I could somehow feel the emotions he had for me; the love he could somehow grant me. And it was this that spurred me on to kiss him deeper, longer, more passionately. He matched my desperation every time, gripping his legs tight over my hips to keep himself from slipping down. But oh, sugar, I would never let you fall; you've got to believe that.

I pulled apart, the need to breathe clawing desperately at my lungs. Panting heavily, I looked into his eyes, half-clouded by something I couldn't identify but loved either way. The smile crossed his lips again and I hoisted him further on me. Sure, my arms felt like they were going to fall off any second, though truly he wasn't that heavy. I was just weak and too lazy to work out. But I swear I will, if it means holding him closer to me for longer time.

His eyes dancing with merriment, he leaned forwards again, capturing my lips in a chaste kiss. I smiled but before I could kiss him back, he pulled away again, linking his hands behind my neck. Unsure if I could possibly hold his body weight any longer, I backed up, holding onto him desperately. I couldn't let him fall and I couldn't set him down, of this I was certain. So I backed up, walking over the deflating air mattress until my knees buckled against the side of my bed and I allowed myself to collapse backwards.

He began giggling childishly, looking down at me with an adoring look on his face. And at that moment, I could only think of how grateful I was that that look was aimed at me and solely me. Smiling softly, thinking on how adorable he looked both with that adoring look and that childish giggle, I captured his lips in another kiss. He responded eagerly, his hands moving from my neck down to my chest. He pushed lightly but his lips were still hungrily against mine, kissing me with unmatched fervor. I wouldn't protest even if I wanted to.

He pulled apart and I removed a hand from his back to wipe at the lingering saliva that was smeared under my lip. He blushed, seemingly embarrassed by it and I leaned up, licking his bottom lip...Did I really do that? He laughed softly, his breath warm and moist against my face. But then he quieted, looking down at me with a thoughtful expression on his face. Concern began to seep in with confusion. I wanted to continue kissing him, to continue losing myself in the contours of his face and skin, the tender texture of his lips. I wanted to continue losing myself in the feel of his skin beneath my wandering hands, his chest pressed against mine so that we were as close as possible with our clothes on. He sighed softly and I moved my hand to run it over his lips softly.

God, I'm such an idiot, acting on random impulses. But he didn't seem to mind as I traced his slick lips, moistened by our heated kiss, softly with a finger. He didn't mind when I flicked gently at his lip ring, the metal warm from the contact. It was strange kissing a man with a lip ring, I've got to admit, but I rather liked it. Besides, it looked great on him. And after I traced his lips, I couldn't stop. I continued running my hand over his face, tracing every dip and curve that shaped it. I ran my finger lightly over his closed lids, over his smooth cheeks and strong jaw.

Perfection.

Suddenly, though, his hand grabbed my wrist, stopping me. My heart beat faster (as if it hadn't been beating fast already) but I said not a word. I had been running my finger down towards his neck, wanting to touch that bruise to see if I could feel it, if I could really feel a different texture of his skin where it resided. It was strange, my fascination with the mark on his throat; perhaps it was the knowledge of the malice behind it. He swallowed hard and I could see his blue and yellow-green Adam's apple bob. He shook his head softly, opening his eyes to pierce mine. God, I loved his eyes: olive-green with flecks of a dusty brown. They were amazing.

So I forgot about his trepidation about me touching his neck; besides, it was understandable. I brought my head up, wanting to feel his lips against mine again. Each kiss was like a drug-a sweet blissful drug-that just pulled me to euphoria. He stopped me, pressing down ever-so-slightly on my chest. I looked at him in confusion; why did he not want to kiss me? Feeling rejection, I let my head drop back against my mattress, searching in his eyes for the reason. He shook his head gently and he began to fade away, his face moving away from mine.

I sat up, my weight on my elbows, cocking an eyebrow at him. I felt cold now as he moved off my waist, standing in front of me with his hands deep in his pockets. "What's wrong?" I asked, my words slightly slurred. I chuckled inwardly; I sounded tipsy. And in a sense, I was slightly drunk, only not on the alcoholic beverages that demanded my attention daily. I was drunk on his kisses, the taste of his lips, the feel of his skin, the beauty of his face and figure.

"I...Gee..." he trailed off, scratching at the back of his neck, his brow furrowed. "Are you doing this to get me to turn myself in?" I let my jaw drop, looking at him in utter disbelief. His lower lip trembled and I blinked various times, trying to understand his words because obviously I had heard wrong.

"W-What?" I stuttered, staring at him incredulously. I shook my head, trying to get my thoughts together. He thought I was doing this to get him to turn himself in? That was preposterous; that was...I didn't even have a word for it.

"Are you doing this to get me to turn myself in?" he asked again, this time in a whisper, looking down at the floor. So I hadn't heard wrong.

"Of course not. How could you even think that?" I asked, my voice shrill as I pulled myself into a sitting position, unable to get up just yet. He shrugged, still looking down at the floor. It seemed he was afraid to even look me in the eyes. I stood up, striding over to him. He seemed to shrink, bringing his shoulders up as if to shield himself. Every angry word that had been at the tip of my tongue completely disappeared when I looked at him.

"Come on, sugar," I said gently, controlling the shock I was still feeling, putting my hands on his shoulders in an attempt to lower them. "Why would I do that?" He shrugged again, despite my hands trying to hold down his thin shoulders. I sighed, realizing none of this would be easy. It was obvious he had some trust issues, as he very well should I might add.

"I don't know," he muttered, still looking down at the ground.

"Look me in the eyes, babe," I murmured so that it seemed almost a croon, bringing a hand to his chin, gently trying to lift it. He shook his head, refusing to do so. I upped the strength I was exerting on his chin, this time forcing him to look at me. "Why would you think I would do something like this if I didn't like you? I'm not like that, okay? Come on, Frankie, trust me." He nodded softly, looking at me with wide eyes. I shook my head, chuckling slightly before pressing my lips against his again.

Amazing.

He responded this time, moving his hands to wrap around me, moving closer. I moved my hands as well to the small of his back, pressing him tight against my body. The height difference was barely noticeable as all we cared about was sustaining the contact between our heated bodies. We both needed this; we both needed to feel affection or something of the sort or else we were both doomed. And I think we both realized this; we just didn't want to speak it aloud. Hungrily, taken by passion, we kissed each other and I was surprised-though obviously pleased-when Frank began pushing me back against the bed. And we toppled down onto it, the contact between our lips unbroken. His hands danced over my sides, slipping under my shirt.

I matched his every move and some, feeling the delicate flesh of his back, running my fingers over the delicate ridges of his spine. It worried me slightly to feel his backbone but the thought slipped from my mind as he brought his hands further upwards, toying with my chest. I let this guttural noise slip from my lips, parting from him slightly. I needed to breathe or I could pass out in his arms. I opened my eyes to find him staring at me, his eyes clouded slightly. I smirked, bringing my lips to his again, unable to stand the way we weren't connected physically.

I pulled the shirt off of him and he did the same, his hands ghosting over my bare skin. And then our kisses resumed, both of us letting ourselves get overtaken by our lust and want. His hand slowly traced the slight dip of my side making me squirm underneath him. Then, with a smirk, he planted it firmly on my chest, never breaking the kiss once. And I also touched him, loving the feel of his heated skin under my cold fingers. Suddenly he pulled away again, standing up, leaving me shivering on the bed.

"Come here," I muttered, reaching out my hands towards him. He shook his head, shaking as he searched the room.

"I can't; we're going way too fucking fast." He grasped the shirt I had lent him, slipping it on, his hands trembling as he pulled at the hem. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, walking back towards me. "I met you yesterday, fucking yesterday." I shook my head, unable to accept it. I had fucking needs; he couldn't just take me off his touch cold-turkey. I grasped his hand, running my fingers over his knuckles.

"Come on Frankie," I whispered, looking at him imploringly. He sighed, moving closer, taking his hand from mine to interlock both of them behind my neck. I grabbed his waist, slipping my hands beneath the shirt to feel his hips. "You have girly hips," I teased. He pouted, curling a lock of my hair around his finger. I laughed, "But I like 'em." He chuckled and shook his head.

"I think we should clean up the mess I made," he muttered, looking over at the upturned plate and the mush beneath it. "It kind of sucks because now I'm hungry," he added, looking wistfully at a relatively clean stray vegetable on the ground. I looked up at him and he turned his head to smile at me.

"You're insane," I muttered, pushing him away softly so I could stand up comfortably. He shrugged, a smirk on his features.

"So are you. What were you thinking, falling for me?" I laughed but I really had; I had fallen for him, despite the little I knew of him. Was it love at first sight? Honestly, it was too early to tell. I knew there was a mutual attraction, a want for the other or what the other offered. However, I couldn't be sure of his exact feelings and I was having a spot of trouble deciphering mine. Still, we'll see what happens; after all, only time can tell and I had no problems in waiting with this gorgeous man by my side.