Passing Looks and Disappointed Faces

[Frank's P.O.V.]

After a few minutes of grumbling and protesting, we made our way into the kitchen, both of us finally fully clothed. I had insisted upon Gerard wearing the cotton pajamas he had arrived with, something he had refused. I had eventually won, convincing him that wearing a simple pair of boxers might give my grandparents heart attacks. Both of us entered the kitchen, seating ourselves at the table, legs just barely touching from our proximity.

"This is your friend?" my grandfather asked as he folded his newspaper, carefully creasing the gray papers. I nodded, tracing patterns on the table with my finger, avoiding both their gazes. "This is who you stayed with?" I nodded again with a sigh, dropping my hands onto the table, leaving them limp as I looked up at him.

"His name's Gerard," I finally offered, glancing briefly at him as I mentioned his name. He cocked an eyebrow, questioning me with his gaze for as long as I dared look at him. A sweet smell wafted in the air from the stovetop as our breakfast was made, mingling with the scent of coffee lingering from the freshly brewed batch.

"Would you like coffee, Gerard?"

"I would appreciate it, thank you very much, Mrs. ..."

"Iero." She offered him a smile as he cocked his head at her, laughing slightly at his expression. He had probably expected her to use her own last name instead of the one given to her by marriage.

"Iero," he repeated, smiling at her in response. They exchanged a short conversation in the particulars of his coffee before she went back to her cooking and he returned his attention to the table. My grandfather was studying him intently, looking him up and down as he tried to figure him out. With a satisfied grumble, he leaned back in his chair, keeping his eyes trained on his face. He swallowed hard, nudging my leg with his own as he tried to give my grandfather a shaky smile.

"You seem like a good kid," he finally grunted, a slow smile beginning to cross his lips. "Tell me, how old are you?"

"I turned twenty-one on April 9th, sir," he answered.

"What university are you attending?" Sheepishly, he looked down at the table, finger slowly tracing a pattern on the wood.

"None, sir," he muttered, shame tingeing his voice as his finger continued running down the wood. "I dropped out."

"Don't call me 'sir'," my grandfather said, not unkindly, leaning back in his chair, interlocking his fingers before him. "And I don't give a rat's ass whether or not you're in university or not. It's your life. I just like messing with you." Gerard looked confused as he raised his head, cocking it to the side as he stared at the older man before him. A slow smile cracked his lips as he gave his gratitude. Soon thereafter, plates of steaming pancakes and mugs of coffee were placed before us and we wasted no time in digging in after a few well-placed thanks. They both watched us in an amused manner, sipping calmly at their own hot coffee.

We finally leaned back in our chairs when we were pleasantly full, plates scraped clean and mugs only containing a few droplets of the scalding liquid we had tried to guzzle down. His hand traveled down to pat his stomach as he related his gratitude for the meal to my grandmother, a bright smile on his face. His other hand traveled under the table, finding my own and giving it a gentle squeeze. I turned my head, cocking an eyebrow at him. A smirk curved his lips, his hand leaving mine, taking with it the warmth it had offered. I could feel my grandparent's eyes boring holes into us, wondering what the passing looks dealt with.

Without warning, his fingers locked into the strands of hair curling over the nape of my neck, bringing me towards him, lips meeting mine. I gasped at the sudden movements and he took that opportunity to deepen the kiss, pressing our bodies closer. My hands frantically sought out his chest, seeking to push him away from me. Stunned, I could only gape at the smug look on his face, jaw dropped and eyes wide. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I finally managed to hiss, low enough so that my grandparents couldn't hear, my chair screeching against the floor as I stood up. He shrugged lightly, almost carelessly, standing up with more care than I had, towering above me. A growl escaped my lips as I pushed him roughly, causing him to stumble with the chair placed behind him.

"Frank?" a soft voice pulled me from my bubbling rage. "Is there something you want to tell us?" They were both staring at me, shock registering on their faces, mouths set in thin lines.

"Why don't you tell them, Frankie?" Gerard asked, a kind smile on his face replacing the smug smirk.

"Don't you call me that ever again."

"Frank," she implored, the look on her face kindly, understanding.

"I've got nothing to say." Promptly, I turned on my heel, walking out of the kitchen. I needed to get out, to get away from the oppressive atmosphere in that stupid room. I could hear footsteps behind me, following me. "I don't want to see you, Gerard, so don't you even bother following me," I growled, addressing the footsteps without bothering to turn my head.

"Frankie, I was just trying to help."

"Help with what, Gerard? I was perfectly fine before you showed up. Fuck off; I don't need you." Lies. I wrenched open the front door, hearing as it slammed against the wall, giving me some sort of satisfaction. His hands sought my waist, fingers digging into the bone as he forcefully pulled me back into his body. "Let me go. You were the one to tell me to leave so what's with the bullshit now?" He ignored my protests, holding my flailing body tight against his, mouth resolutely shut as he refused to speak.

"Let's talk, Frankie." I sighed, realizing that any more protests were fruitless, allowing him to turn me around, still pressing me tight against his body. I refused to meet his gaze, focusing it instead on the painting on the wall beside me. His fingers gripped my chin, forcing me to face him; I closed my eyes tightly. "Stop being so stubborn, Frankie; I didn't want to make you mad."

"Well you sure as hell did just that."

"I just wanted to help you come out to your family-"

"And that wasn't going to make me mad? I didn't need them to know, Gerard. I was perfectly fine with them being in the dark about my sexual preferences. Who I like is my business and they've got no need to know what my orientation is."

"What if you meet someone one day that you really like? What if one day, you meet this guy and you just can't show him to your family because you're too afraid? What if he leaves you, deserts you because you were such a fucking coward?"

"Would you do that?" I asked, suddenly afraid, all the fight deserting me. It was saddening because deep inside, I craved his company more than anything. It was all just rage, rage that he was forcing me to reveal a secret I had kept hidden for the longest time. He sighed, holding me tighter, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head.

"No."

"Then why'd you do this, Gerard? You just fucked up everything I had built. I didn't need your help; I didn't need you to come here and do this. Why'd you tell me to leave if you were just going to find me? Why'd you tell me that I had to go live my own life, that I couldn't go on living with you?" All the hurt, the betrayal and rage I had been simmering was leaking out of my system and I was simply taking it all out on him. I wanted answers, definitive truths to my questions instead of the sugar-coated words of comfort and promises of tomorrow and later.

"Because I felt like I was keeping you there, like I was tying you to me because of my own selfish needs. Sugar, I didn't want to let you go; I just thought it would be best for the both of us-"

"Look where that got us-"

"Just listen to me, babe. I made a mistake; I should have never told you to leave. Hell, I should have never kissed you in front of your grandparents; Heaven knows I shouldn't upset anyone elderly." I was about to protest, to continue arguing, but he cut me off. "I'm sorry for it, Frankie. You can't just shun me, though. Aside from your grandparents, I'm the only one who knows about your situation and I want to be there beside you throughout the whole thing. I don't want to leave you, Frankie; you mean more to me than you could ever know." His hands traveled up my back, finding their way to my cheeks, cupping them gently in his palms. Just as tenderly, he brought his lips down to meet mine, eyes fluttering closed as he did so. Involuntarily, my eyes closed as well, my lips responding to the kiss he placed ever so gently. He was speaking the truth and, as much as I hated to admit it, he was right.

He pulled away, a gentle smile on his face. "Maybe you should explain something to your grandparents..." I froze, muscles tensing automatically as I considered it. I shook my head rapidly but he applied pressure from his hands, forcing my gaze to his again. "I'll be there with you; I won't leave your side, sugar." With a deep breath, I nodded my consent reluctantly, closing my eyes tightly; I didn't want to see his face as I accepted. He walked me back into the kitchen, fingers intertwined with mine as we made our way back into that room where my grandparents still sat, the plates and mugs cleared away, washed and dried and back in their rightful places.

I removed my hand from his, motioning him to sit whilst I preferred to stand awkwardly next to the table. "I do have something to tell you," I muttered, keeping my voice low, afraid to speak any louder than a whisper. They immediately turned to look, pushing aside the papers that had captivated their attention before I arrived. I took in a deep breath, scratching lightly at the back of my neck to give myself something to do, to distract myself from their kind gazes.

"What is it, sweetie?" my grandmother asked, ever the understanding, kindly woman. Her concern only made the bile rise in my throat. I swallowed hard, eyes shifting in their sockets, searching for an exit, some way out of this. I could find nothing besides Gerard's hazel orbs boring into me, encouraging me. I closed my eyes tightly, hunching my shoulders reflexively as I opened my mouth to speak.

"I'm gay," I breathed out in a rush, trembling as I stood there, afraid of what their reaction would be. Silence there and nothing more