Passing Looks and Disappointed Faces

[Frank's P.O.V.]

There was some semblance of guilt plaguing me as Gerard maneuvered the car down the streets of Jersey. I shouldn't have blown up at him; then again, he shouldn't have tried to pull me into the store against my will. There was silence in the car, light blue-gray smoke floating in the air between us. "I'm sorry," I muttered, unable to stand the atmosphere in the car any longer. He risked a glance at me, just briefly averting his gaze from the road to look.

"I shouldn't have forced you in there; don't worry about it. If anything, I'm the one who should be apologizing." I decided to leave it at that, not in a particular mood to argue or do anything of the sort. There was silence again, oppressive silence like the one plaguing the room this morning. I fidgeted, resting my head briefly against the window pane before moving again. I noticed the way his eyebrow arched delicately as he glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes, stopping at a red light. Glancing at the lights above, he looked at me, placing a hand gently over my shoulder. I sighed softly, closing my eyes tightly in an attempt to relieve their dryness. "Are you okay?"

Forcing a smile, I nodded, "Of course I am." In all honesty, I merely wanted to throw up all over the seat. Nausea rising in my throat at the movement, I rested my head against the glass again, swallowing hard to keep down the morning's breakfast. He removed his hand at the change of lights, tearing off down the street again. I refused to let myself fall asleep, to fall into the nightmares again. I forced myself to remain awake, opening my eyes so as to reduce my craving for sleep. At another red light, he turned towards me again, fingers softly caressing my cheek.

"You don't look okay." I sighed, leaning into his hand, welcoming the feel of the pads of his fingers over my skin. A yawn escaped my throat as I shook my head, replacing my head on the window, curling my legs beneath me.

"I didn't get much sleep," I admitted, wanting to give in to my desires to do so. Glancing frequently at the traffic light, he leaned in pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek.

"Sleep now," he murmured against my skin, fingers dancing beneath my shirt, stroking the skin beneath it lightly. A soft whimper escaped my lips at the feel of his fingers until he pulled them away, replacing them on the steering wheel as the light turned green. I wanted to oblige, to fall into dark comfortably but found I couldn't, consciousness fighting for a chance. I didn't know where we were headed, where he was taking me, a willing prisoner in his cigarette-scented vehicle. Instead, I settled on looking at him, on drinking in his appearance, ignoring the streets that passed us by.

It was a reminder of this morning, laying in bed, memorizing the curves of his features, hating him for his beauty. Then again, there wasn't any hate, neither this morning nor at the moment. There was affection, caring, perhaps even love to see his face, golden eyes focused on the road. His pale skin shone with the sun that beat down through the front window, bathed in the glow. After a while of shameless staring, he glanced at me, a small smile on his lips. "What?" he asked curiously, fingers darting out to change the radio station, the sounds switching, morphing until he was satisfied with it.

"Nothing," I murmured, averting my gaze, looking out the window. His hand sought mine, gripping it lightly, tenderly while the other moved on the steering wheel. It was too perfect, too sincere, to the point where it was painful. I let go of his hand, crossing both arms over my chest, looking out the window again. Still, I could see his reflection, could see his face out of the corners of my eyes. Dejected: that was what he looked to be. He looked hurt as he pulled his hand back slowly, resting it on the wheel to aid in his steering, feet still maneuvering with the pedals. He was too perfect and it hurt to see him that way, a frown curving his lips, eyes downcast though they were still staring out that stupid window. Automatically, a feeling of guilt washed over me, causing me to lean over, resting my cheek against his shoulder though the seatbelt dug into my skin.

He didn't respond, hopelessly fixated on what he was doing and not on what I was doing. His breathing was soft, steady, and it was lulling me, causing me to close my eyes. The slamming of the brakes caused me to jerk up, mumbling incoherently as I wiped at my eyes. An apology tainted his lips, his hand ruffling my hair gently. "Are you hungry?" he asked gently, which resulted in me sending him a perplexed look.

"Not particularly," I said slowly, rubbing at my eyes one last time before letting them drop in my lap.

"Oh...Well, I am; you don't mind if I eat, do you?"

"'Course not," I mumbled sleepily, resting my head against the door again, letting my eyes close. He chuckled softly, shutting off the engine, walking out of the car. I tried to ignore the sound of the door slamming loudly but found I couldn't as mine was wrenched open, nearly causing me to fall out onto the pavement. Apologizing profusely, he righted my fallen body, unbuckling me from the seat, cradling me in his arms gently. "What are you doing?" I asked, struggling slightly before falling limp in his hold.

"Carrying you inside," he grinned as if it were the most natural thing to do, pressing me flush against his body. My cheeks rose in temperature and he chuckled, leaning down to work his lips against mine. After a moment, he pulled away, hoisting me into a more secure position, earning a slight squeal to come from my lungs. He whisked me into the establishment, dropping me unceremoniously into a booth. Grumbling my discontent at the way with which he treated me, I rested back against the booth, looking around at the orange-painted walls and dim lights. It was nice here, the air thick with the scent of coffee, the placid walls lined with black-framed photographs and drawings. Cities, landscapes, portraits, anything and everything. I leaned against the cushions, reveling in the soft fabric, closing my eyes as a hint of soft jazz came over the strategically placed speakers.

After a few minutes in which I was already slipping into unconsciousness, a warmth settled beside me. A soft kiss was pressed to my cheek and I giggled, not bothering to open my eyes. "Hello, Gerard."

"How'd you know it was me?" he asked, voice curious and incredulous. I laughed, opening my eyes to look at him.

"Who else would just sit next to me and give me a kiss?"

"I don't know, some crazy stalker perhaps. Some girl that's infatuated with you or some burly wo-man that decided they couldn't give up such a sexy little creature sprawled out on a booth." I laughed at his thoughts, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek; he was insane and I loved it. He chuckled softly, probably deciding that what he was saying was somewhat unrealistic, taking a sip of the large Styrofoam cup he held in his hand. Seeing him take a sip of the hot liquid made me lick my own lips, suddenly craving the coffee he was drinking. Realizing that I was eyeing his coffee, he drank it tantalizingly slow, tongue poking out to lap up the beads that managed to trickle down the side of the mug.

"Gerard," I whined, reaching out a hand to grab it from him. He kept it just out of my reach, sticking out his tongue in a childish display of taunting. He sipped at it again, smacking his lips in satisfaction, leaning in close so that I could smell the coffee on his lips. Frustrated, I gripped his hair in one hand, tugging him down to work my lips hungrily against his, tasting the remnants of his coffee on his mouth. He set the mug down at my tongue running across his bottom lip, hands reaching out to pull me against him. The kiss became more and more heated, limbs tangling, chests heaving. Smirking, I pulled away, grabbing his mug as he attempted to control his breath, taking a deep, fortifying gulp, hissing when the heated liquid burned my tongue and throat.

He chuckled, wrenching the mug from my grasp as I coughed and sputtered. "That's what you get for tricking me to steal my coffee. If you wanted some, I could have bought you some but no so now you get burned." He smirked in my direction, mockingly sipping at that accursed coffee. Grumbling, now fully awake and sporting inner burns, I leaned against the booth, making sure to distance myself from him. "Do you want any?" he asked in a moment of consideration, motioning to the counter.

"Not anymore," I grumbled, lying down on the seat, placing my legs over his. He chuckled, placing his elbows on the table as he contentedly continued consuming his drink. I sighed, merely observing him for lack of anything better to do, crossing my arms over my chest. We stayed there for well over an hour in which I finally conceded into letting him buy me a Frappuccino, which I eagerly soothed by blistering tongue with. He laughed at the way I gulped it down until I began to groan that I had brain freeze, setting the offending drink aside. He had brought his lips down to mine in what he had assumed would be a soothing way, working his tongue against mine.

With laughter I pulled away, gripping my coffee frappe again and offering it briefly to him, taking it back with the first refusal. He laughed at that, rose tongue peeking out of his mouth to lick at some whipped cream that had smeared on my cheek. Heat rushed to my cheeks and, blushing furiously, a smile managed to curve my lips. A smirk curved his, his attention turning back to his beverage of which less than a quarter remained. It was with utter silence that we finished our respective coffee-based drinks, a flare of energy rising within both our bodies at the caffeine. He disposed of the cups, nearly toppling over as I jumped onto his back, wrapping my arms around his neck and sloppily kissing his cheek. Stunned but hyper himself, he ran out of the building, watched by all the customers that remained in the shop.

He unlocked the car, opening the door and throwing me roughly into the backseat. Stunned, all breath had been knocked out of me from the impact of my back hitting the cushioned seat. Extricating a wrapper from under my back, I couldn't see Gerard launching himself onto me until it was too late, his lips seeking mine. I couldn't help but giggle, tossing the wrapper to the side without bothering to find out what it was, wrapping my arms gratefully around his neck. He was almost animalistic in his movements, hands gripping me roughly, making me moan into the kiss. A sharp knock on the window made us pull away, staring guiltily at a businessman with a disgusted look on his face who was opening the door to the car next to his.

Reluctantly, we clambered into our respective seats, averting our gazes ashamedly. The man snorted, wrinkling his nose, pulling out with a shake of his head. I couldn't help but send him a smile and he leaned into me, whispering softly in my ear as his hand turned the key in the ignition. "Don't worry, we'll find someplace more private," he purred, voice low, husky and undeniably sexual and I had to say, it turned me on.