The Scream Team

Quinn sat on the edge of his neatly made bed and stared at his hands, trying to wash off the pretend blood with the sheer power of his earnestness to make this nightmare simply go away. He wasn’t asking for much, no, Quinn wanted one thing and one thing only and it really wasn’t much, no, it was just to forget.

The coagulated blood seemed to have become part of the very substance of his skin, its infectious, screaming red faded from the surface leaving ugly brown stains and rooted itself deeper inside of him with all its pain and unintended malice. Like a curse, it haunted him wherever he went, with whoever he was. It wasn’t his fault, it couldn’t have been, even he told him that. How silly, he was the one hurt and yet he ended up comforting his silly little brother. How downright fucking stupid of him.

Quinn let himself fall back onto the deep blue covers, still smelling like the cocoa fabric softener his mother used ever since they were children. And now, when there was no one to keep them at bay, the memories came knocking, bearing nothing but a bunch of impossible wishes and silly ‘what ifs’. And his face.

He wished he could have looked back at those times and feel that pleasant warmth seep into his inside again and warm up his frozen limbs like it did so many times before… Before. Yes, that was the crucial word here… before, before he ruined everything, before his obvious tendency to be fucked up beyond repair and so disgustingly perverse and weak managed to bring down the thin walls of the glass house of pretend-bliss they managed to build for themselves with such meticulous effort, with such – Quinn shivered at the word – love.

If they knew how things would end, would they have even started the entire affair? Would they ever even dare to do what they did that night… or was it day? The images were already blurring inside his mind, mixing in together like ink in water, losing their shape and meaning. And never mind how much he desperately wished to forget… More than anything else, there were still a couple of his mistakes he wanted to remember forever, no matter how much their consequences ripped and tore him apart at times.

How could he ever forget that? Honestly, how could he?

“We’re not even related, Bert, why should I feel any sort of love for you?”

“So you don’t?”

“I don’t… what? Man, you’re not making any sense today.”

“So you don’t love me?”

“What kind of a question is that, grease-head?”

“Just answer it.”

Resigned sigh.

“It’s weird.”

“What is?”

“The things I feel.”

“Like?”

“Like this thing I feel for you.”

Cough. Blush and smile. Blink stupidly. Look away. Ashamed.

“Like?”

“I do…ahem… love you. Just not in an entirely brotherly…erm…”

“Manner?”

“Yes, manner. Wait, what?”

“You’re blushing, Quinn.”

“Am I, Bert?”

“This shit surpasses every shit we ever pulled off ever since our ‘rents made us live together and got fucking married. Even that crap we pulled off at their wedding.”

“Does it really?”

Stupid hope.

“Yeah it does.”

“Does it matter?”

Silence. Hesitance. Fear.

“No. Does it?”

“No.”

“I want to…”

Reach out, slice through the sticky Utah night. Touch. Soft.

“Kiss me?”

“Yes.”

Lips. Tongues. Timid, so afraid. Hair. Fingers. Tangle. Arms. Chest. Embrace.

Gerard stared at the shorter boy angrily, in search of words serious or at least scary enough to scold him for this little display of care, no matter how much he actually enjoyed it. So shortstuff seemed to like him. His ego would have continued to strive and grow hadn’t it been for Frank’s pair of earnest green eyes staring up at him bashfully, but with a sort of directness he knew no one else in the world possessed.

“That was so fucking stupid, Frank!” He finally hissed and then started escorting the younger boy to his house. Frank shrugged and followed, not at all caring about the flashes of anger he occasionally caught on his companions pale features.

“What were you thinking coming in there?!”

Even Gerard himself didn’t really know why, oh why he even gave a damn, but he got so fucking upset when he saw him in that place, he felt obliged to scream out all of his frustration. he fucking works his ass off trying to keep them all safe and there he went, the little brat had the balls to walk right into that fucking bar! He might as well have walked straight into a fucking car crash. The result would have been the same.

“God, Jesus fucking Christ.”

He huffed and looked down at Frank’s wincing face, eyes squinting in an attempt to emit an accusing glare. Right, the Christian thing. Shit, he cursed out… pretty badly.

“Sorry, okay? Now tell me,” he stopped right in front of the boy, the liquid hazel of his eyes begging for answers, “why did you have to be that stupid?”

Frank halted and gave into those eyes, biting the inside of his cheek with fervent guilt while fending off his own selfish urges to lie, lie, lie.

“I wanted to see what the big deal was, Gerard. Why is everyone getting so fussed when it comes to you?”

The way he looked up at him, those moss colored eyes so big and shiny, like two patina covered quarters. Gerard sighed and started walking again.

“You’re still all shiny and new and innocent, Frank, why mess that up now?”

“Sure I am.”

Sometimes, Frank actually wished they all knew how filthy and stained he really was. Maybe then they’d all stop caring about him so much, maybe they’d realize that he wasn’t a child anymore. He saw and felt these things… No one innocent could ever have these thoughts he kept on having… so impure and so wrongful. And all those times he spent confined in that small confessional… It all meant nothing when he was looking up at this beautiful boy who had no idea… Of just how wrong he felt to him.

“Yes, Frank. You are, you are… I dunno why you even keep trying to be one of us.”

“Aren’t I? One of you?”

The hurt was almost evident in his voice and Gerard knew he had already started chipping off his innocence. And Frank was so perfect.

“You are, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You and Matt are hiding something.”

“Stop asking stupid questions, Frank.”

“That wasn’t a question, Gerard.”