Passing Looks and Disappointed Faces

[Gerard's P.O.V.]

As I drove, I glanced over at Frank, noting the way his cheeks were tinted rose and his hands were fidgeting over his lap, his energy levels highly increased from our beverages. Damn, there was nothing better than Starbucks. I just wished that man hadn't interrupted us; now I had to find us someplace to release our dynamic tension. I grinned at him, waiting until I could reach a red light to pull him forcibly toward me, crashing my lips against his. He worked his lips hungrily against mine, dominant now with his newfound hyper attitude. I smirked as I pulled away, somewhat stunned by his attitude, finding I quite enjoyed it.

The kiss did nothing but worsen the condition currently straining against our jeans, making us fidget in discomfort on the seats. I wanted to relieve both his and my arousal but found I couldn't, especially not as I drove down the streets. I was going to take Frank to see a spectacular view; I wanted him to cherish the location I had kept a closely guarded secret after having stumbled upon it when I took a wrong turn on my way to New York to the art school I went to. I had rather given up on it this semester, preferring to stay at home for a while until I could afford an apartment in the city again. At the current moment I was jobless, fruitlessly soliciting at different establishments and freeloading off my parents until I could sustain myself once more; I had been laid off my last job which made it increasingly difficult for me to pay for the apartment I had rented.

Out of the corner of my eyes I could see that he was beginning to get impatient, fiddling now with the button of his jeans, unbuttoning and then buttoning them again as he glanced guiltily at me every once in a while. I couldn't help but chuckle softly, turning up the radio so as to offer him some sort of distraction from the pressing problem in his jeans. He glanced at me curiously, reaching out a finger to jab at the button, changing the radio station. Unsatisfied, he began fiddling with the knob, trying to tune in to a good station, effectively taking the hint to distract himself with the device. He finally settled on a station playing this soft rock ballad, lowering himself in the seat, still fiddling with the top of his jeans now that the radio no longer occupied his attention.

"Stop that," I hissed at him softly, flicking at the lever to the left of the steering wheel to indicate that I was to turn to the right. He hurriedly did up the top of his pants, obviously unaware that I had been watching him, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's my job to do that," I smirked, glancing at him briefly to see that his cheeks had flushed a bright red and that his jaw had dropped. Laughing placidly at his expression, I turned into a winding road with barely any traffic, driving along it, the trees casting a cool, welcome shadow over the car. After an hour or so of driving, I finally reached the place, parking my car and shutting off the engine.

"Have you ever seen the ocean before, babe?" I asked, leaning over the seat after unbuckling myself, capturing his lips with mine. He shook his head once I pulled away, staring at me curiously. "Well, you're going to see it now," I grinned, walking out of the car without a glance back, waiting for him to get out as well. Once he did, I pulled him to me, inhaling the salty air, looking out beyond the car. He followed my gaze, jaw falling open as he gazed upon the rolling waves crashing onto the rocky shore. I smiled at his expression, pressing my lips to his, holding him tighter. He exhaled softly when I pulled away, whistling under his breath as he looked back at the scenery. I had had the same reaction when I first came across this place, miles and miles away from my original destination; at least I knew how to get back now.

"Wow," he whispered in awe, still keeping his gaze on the sight before him, a smile beginning to spread across his lips. He glanced back at me, throwing himself into my arms, sloppily pressing a kiss to my lips, pressing his body tightly against mine. "Thank you," he whispered eagerly, pulling away, grasping my hand in his, staring awestruck at the sand and rocks, looking as innocent as a child with his amazement.

"We can walk along the beach, you know," I whispered into his ear, enjoying the way he trembled at my words. He nodded eagerly, tugging on my hand to make me walk fast down towards the water. He giggled as he sunk slightly in the sand, eyes shining bright as he looked back at me, kicking at the rocks he encountered in his way, nearly tripping in his excitement. He giggled, running to edge of the water, ignoring the fact that his Chucks were getting wet as were the bottom of his jeans. I simply stood back and watched him, losing myself in his childish actions. He ran back to me after a while of splashing, realizing that I was no longer beside him, crashing into my arms, tumbling me onto the sand.

"This is amazing, Gee," he said fervently, malachite eyes glinting brightly in their sockets, lips curved into a beautiful smile, cheeks rose-tinted from his excitement. "How'd you find this?"

"A few wrong turns on my way to New York City; don't worry, we're still in Jersey," I laughed, wrapping my arms around him, pulling him close. He giggled, pressing a hasty kiss against my lips before wriggling out my grasp, standing up in his excitement; he really had never seen the ocean before. He continued running along the beach, squealing in surprise when the waves rolled in and splashed him up to his knees, his attempts to get out of the way of the roaring water in vain.

He stopped suddenly, poking at something on the ground quite a distance away from me. He grinned then, shaking the object he had found before bounding towards me, whatever he had found clutched tightly in his hand. "Look, Gerard," he grinned excitedly, plopping down on the soft sand beside me. "It's a seashell." And so it was; the pale pink delicate shell was clutched tightly in his hand as he extended it towards me. I grabbed a stick from nearby, poking it into the inner curves of his finding, satisfied when nothing moved inside.

"So you did," I smiled at him, throwing the twig aside and handing it back to him. He seemed so ecstatic about his finding that I couldn't help but grab his hair, pressing my lips against his. He grinned when I pulled away, clutching his shell close to his chest, looking out at the ocean with that childlike nature I adored in him. He wriggled where he was sitting, squirming impatiently seeing as I had done nothing to indulge in his energy on the beach. He shoved me lightly, rising to his feet, extending his hand towards me with a small pout on his features. Laughing, I took his hand, using it to help me get to my own feet, trying to catch up with him as he began running. "Hold on," I panted, tugging on his hand to make him stop.

He giggled at the way I was already winded from his actions, wrapping his arms tightly around my torso, still clutching that seashell in his hands. "I want to go into the water," he said, motioning at the waves still rocking against the shore, a smile etched permanently onto his face.

"You can't go into the water dressed like that," I reminded him, "It'll weigh you down and you can drown; I don't really want a dead kid on my hands." He pouted, crossing his arms over his chest, obviously falling deep in thought. He tossed the seashell to the sand, hands gripping the jacket I had leant him, slipping it off. He continued to do this until he was stripped bare of clothes, wearing only his boxers.

"Now I can," he smirked, though he shivered. It was plenty cold outside, especially seeing as it was late October and we were in the northern portion of Jersey. He didn't seem to mind the conditions much, ecstatic as he was to be on the beach, looking out at the glittering ocean water.

"You're going to get hypothermia or pneumonia or some other big-word illness," I whined, pulling his bare torso towards me, engulfing him in a hug. He laughed, eagerly wrapping his own arms around me, pressing his lips against my neck. "Can you even swim? And there's nothing in the car to dry you off once you get out."

"I'll be fine, Gee; don't worry about me. I can swim and I'm not even going to get in that far, just up to my waist, okay?" I sighed but reluctantly agreed, tightening my hold on him, refusing to let him go. He grinned, pulling away only to press an eager kiss to my cheek, wetting the skin with his pink tongue. Groaning half-heartedly, I wiped at my cheek but sent him a smile, watching as he bounded into the crashing waves. He kept true to his promise, only getting in to his waist, his boxers floating somewhat beneath him, the material becoming water-logged but remaining buoyant. I sat myself on the sand next to his pile of clothes, watching as he squealed, entertaining himself with childish games, somehow managing to wet his hair and his entire upper body.

After an hour of his playing, I motioned him to get out, informing him that we should get back; I didn't want him to get sick. He reluctantly acquiesced, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Frank?" I asked cautiously, rising to my feet and taking a tentative step back as he advanced towards him. "Don't you dare," I warned, suddenly realizing what he was going to do. He completely ignored me, running over the sand and launching himself into my arms, tumbling me to the ground, effectively wetting me completely, pressing a sloppy kiss to my lips. Protesting, I pushed him off me, groaning as I realized that he had just completely soaked me, sand now sticking to every article of clothing. He laughed at my appearance, standing up, sand coating his legs, feet and any other exposed area of skin that had come in contact with the ground. "Strip," I ordered, motioning to his soaked boxers, trying in vain to pick at the grains sticking to me.

He cocked an eyebrow but otherwise obeyed, becoming somewhat excited by what I had said. Laughing, I grabbed his dry clothes, tossing them towards him. "You're going commando," I grinned, grabbing his sand-encrusted boxers off the ground, watching as the water dripped slowly down his bare body. He grimaced but put on his clothes after a slight struggle, each vesting of clothing sticking to his body due to his soaked skin. He seemed uncomfortable which made me pull him into my arms, pressing a kiss to his lips in an attempt to relax him. He smiled softly, grabbing his treasured seashell off the ground, clutching it tight to him as he shivered from his exposure to the air. "Let's go home," I said, grabbing his hand in mine, tugging him gently towards the parked car. He happily obliged, bounding along behind me eagerly, wet shoes sinking slightly in the sand. He took off his shoes and socks before he entered the car, placing them in the backseat along with his boxers, keeping the shell on his lap.

I pulled out, driving back on the road that had brought us here, leaving the darkening beach behind. I noticed Frank's wistful glance back at the crashing waves, his fingers tightening just slightly on his prize find. He then turned to me, turning up the heat to warm his shivering body, a smile developing on his lips. "We're going home."