Absolution

Two Days Later

Before I even had a chance to get up to Frank’s door, he ran out of his house and threw his arms around me. “Gee!”

I laughed, wrapping my arms around him. I loved how I felt when I was touching Frank. Nothing in the world compared to it; nothing ever will. “Hey.” I said cheerfully, smiling genuinely at him.

He hopped down before grabbing my hand and dragging me into his house. After closing the door and locking it, he leaned me against it, pressing his lips to mine. I smiled into his lips, kissing him back.

When he pulled away, he smiled at me excitedly. “I missed you.”

“You saw me yesterday.” I pointed out, but I was still smiling too. Something about being here with Frank alone made me very giddy, but also very nervous. It was different from being out in public or hanging out in my house with my mom right upstairs with Mikey. I looked around his huge entrance room; it seemed to have gotten bigger and more expensive-looking since I was last in it.

“Are you hungry or thirsty?” he asked me, linking our hands together and swaying them back and fourth between us. He still had a goofy smile on his face.

“No, hun. I’m fine.” I said, noticing a picture of Frank, his mom, the man I knew to be his uncle, and a younger man I assumed to be Riley. Frank was a misfit in the picture, though he still looked amazing. I didn’t think Frank could take a bad picture—or a bad anything, really. He was perfect.

“Okay, then. Do you want to go to my room or somewhere else? I’m sick of my room… we can go to the den.” He was talking extremely fast, and then he led me to a large room with a flat screen TV (it was pretty huge itself) and anything else you would expect to be in a rich mans television room. There was stuff connected to the TV that I’d never even had the privilege of seeing before now.

Frank sat down on a couch in front of the TV and pulled me down with him. It was the most comfortable couch I had ever sat on.

“Oohm!” I jumped as Frank practically attacked me, climbing onto my lap.

He smiled, titling his head to one side. “I think your eyes are so pretty, Gerard.” He whispered, making my stomach tie up in knots. “They change colors, I think,” he continued, curling into me and making himself comfortable. My heart was beating extremely quickly as I stared back at him, not believing this was even real. This wasn’t happening to me. I’d never known a good relationship unless you counted the one with my younger brother. Who happens to be older than Frank. “Sometimes they look really brown. Almost caramel. And sometimes they look really green, or really yellow.” He stroked his thumb on my cheek. “That’s cool.”

I smiled at him, blushing. It wasn’t often I had someone on my lap, complimenting my facial features. It wasn’t often anyone was this close to me without wanting sex. I don’t think anyone even had been for that matter.

“I think it’s adorable that when I compliment you, you always look down and blush.” He kissed my cheek. “You’re cute.”

I laughed, wrapping my arms around him and tilting my head up to look at him. I had felt myself becoming more comfortable with him as the days passed. I was still reluctant. Now there was the issue that he could leave me if I fucked up; if I wasn’t good enough. I pushed the thought away for now, though. “I can’t pick a favorite thing about you, Frankie. I love all of you so much that I can’t choose.”

He giggled. “I think you’re insane.”

“I decided!” I suddenly said, pulling him closer to me if that was even possible. “I love it when you laugh… and giggle. It makes me want to smile.”

He leaned down to kiss me. Our lips met and his hands ran through my hair and down my neck. After several long minutes, he pulled away breathing heavily. I kissed his cheek, also breathing pretty hard myself.

“They’re gone.” He said finally, once he caught his breath. “I thought they were never going to leave.”

I smiled. “Two weeks as an adult. Can you handle it?”

“I think I’ve been an adult for a while.” He muttered, curling up to me again. He laid his head against my shoulder, linking our hands together. He stared at the same picture I’d been looking at, a very far away look on his face. “God, I wonder if Riley actually went… I hope so. Last time they left he saw the need to drop in every 5 minutes.”

We fell into a comfortable silence, just sitting on his couch and curled together. I don’t know how long we sat there, but I must have fallen asleep because I remember waking up and being alone.**There is an Italian translation at the end of the update.**

“Chi è quel sonno del ragazzo?” A woman with a very thick accent asked.

I opened my eyes and sat up, hearing a distinct other language coming from the other room. What was it? It was pretty.

“È giusto un amico, Amedea.” That was Frank speaking, it had to be.

“Frank ha un amico speciale, no? È molto handsome.” The woman seemed to be laughing, and accusing Frank of something.

“È un amico speciale e so che è handsome. Non dica a Jake.” He spoke this quieter, not that it would have mattered. It wasn’t as if I had any clue what he was saying anyway.

I couldn’t even tell what language it was, but I liked the sound of it. I was able to put three words together, from my 2 years of Spanish. Special handsome friend. Who was the special handsome friend?

Frank walked into the room after that, and smiled at me when he saw I was awake. “Hey, you awake?”

I smiled back and nodded. “Sorry. I guess I didn’t sleep much last night.” I said a bit shyly, standing up.

“No, it’s fine. You weren’t even asleep too long.” Frank grinned. “Amedea—one of our maids—made some lasagna. I don’t want any; I’m going to eat something vegetarian friendly. But you can have some.”

“Thanks.” I followed him into the large kitchen I had seen once before. A fairly dark skinned woman in jeans and a polo shirt was getting together a salad for Frank.

“Non ho capito mai perchè il ragazzo silly gradito mangiare soltanto questo alimento del coniglio? Che cosa è errato con carne? Ha bisogno comunque di alcuno sulle sue ossa.” She muttered under hear breath, and then smiled when she noticed us in the room. “Frank!”

“Migliorate non mettere ancora i cubi del prosciutto in quello!” Frank said in a low voice.

“Can you use English please?” I joked, my eyebrow arched.

“Oh, I was just telling her to not slip meat into my salad this time… she thinks salads are ‘rabbit food’ and I most certainly am not a rabbit.”

“L'amico speciale è ancor più handsome si sveglia. Buon selezionamento, franco.” The woman said, looking right at me as she practically shoved a plate of lasagna into my hand. She then looked at Frank and said, “Diagli una bevanda. Fretta. Il senso più veloce vincere il suo cuore è tramite il suo stomaco.”

“Huh?” I asked, looking down at the plate in my hand.

“She was talking to me. Ignore her.” Frank said, going to the refrigerator. “What do you want? We’ve got milk, Coke, Dr. Pepper, water, Apple Juice… the Juicy Fruit lunch ones are mine though…. You can have one, though, I guess.” He said this sounding very reluctant, like he couldn’t bear to part with one juice box.

I laughed. “Dr. Pepper, please?”

He grinned and got out two, handing me one. His maid looked very pleased with herself as she exited the room.

I sat down at the table, and Frank sat across from me. “What are you two speaking?” I asked curiously.

“Italian.” He answered, pouring some dressing onto his salad. “My grandparents actually lived their most of my mom’s life. I lived there a year or two with my dad.”

“Only with your dad?” I asked curiously, trying not to step too far into the family discussion. I didn’t want to force him to give me any information he didn’t want to.

He looked up at me, his green eyes meeting mine. He then sighed and sat his fork down. “Gerard… there are some things that I should probably explain before this goes any farther.”

And here it was. I sat up straight, without even tasting my food. “Okay.”

He bit his lip and took a deep breath, then looked at me again. “When I say parents… I should really say ‘parent.’ When I was 11 years old, my mom cheated on my dad with my uncle… her brother-in-law, that is.” He closed his eyes. “My dad found out and left my mom. He tried to get custody of me, but his career choice was too… uh... well, not too parent friendly. So my mom won the custody battle.” He took another deep breath. “When I was thirteen, she married my uncle. Jake, the one leading that rally? She… asks me to call him Dad…. To make it easier… She likes to pretend we’re this tight knit family, that he’s really my dad.”

“So… you live with your uncle whom you call your dad?” I asked to make sure I understood correctly.

He nodded, biting his lip still. “I hope you aren’t mad. Sometimes it’s just easier to say ‘my parents’ than ‘my mom and uncle whom my mom married.’” He looked at me guiltily.

“I understand. It’s okay.” I answered him, smiling. My heart went out to him, I could tell he hadn’t meant anything by not telling me. “Your family is a lot like Hamlet’s.”

He arched his eyebrow and then laughed. “Neil says that all of the time.”

“Yeah but your uncle didn’t kill your dad at least...” I offered.

“Not in a physical sense, no.” he smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Well I’m glad you felt like you could tell me.” I whispered, looking down. I didn’t like looking at him when the conversation was serious. I didn’t want to react poorly and upset him or anything. Plus, his eyes got really intense and it was hard to look away from him.

He reached over and squeezed my hand. “Me too. I’ve never told anyone… well, Neil kind of forced it out of me.”

I looked up, gave him a smile, and then bit into my lasagna. My eyes widened in shock. “Holy shit. This is, like, amazing.” I gasped. “Tell her it’s amazing!”

“Dice che è stupefacente.” Frank called in Italian. I listened carefully, trying to hear how he spoke the words. They sounded so… beautiful. Maybe it was because they came from him.

“Vi ho detto così. Potete ringraziarli più successivamente.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “She said thanks… or something like it.”

I ate a few more bites. It was probably the best food I had ever tasted. I voiced this, and then said, “You can eat this food every day?”

“Not that. She makes really good stuff without meat, though. She makes amazing pizza.” He answered, pushing his empty salad plate away. He was watching me, biting his lip.

I swallowed my last bite of lasagna so he didn’t have to wait, though I could have eaten it all day long. I grinned at him, sitting up straight.

“Do you want any more?” he asked kindly before I could say a word.

“N—.”

“I know you do, don’t lie.” He picked up his own plate as he was picking mine up. “I’ll get you another piece.”

“I’m fine, really.” I said, but he gave me a knowing look and walked towards the door. “Thanks.” I said lamely, picking up my soda. I drank some of it, looking around the room and letting my mind wander. It still seemed unreal to me that we were ‘together’ and I was afraid it meant I was acting differently towards him without meaning to. What did together mean, anyway? So far, it meant hanging out more and kissing more. Also, it meant he was comfortable enough to tell me important information about himself.

Should I be more willing to talk about my own dad? Frank had told me about his messed up family, how he’d felt alone pretty much all of his life. But his stuff, it seemed more significant. So my dad was an alcoholic. I’d accepted it, I didn’t need to whine. I didn’t feeling like telling him—or anyone—now anyway. I was always very depressed for days after talking about or even thinking about my dad.

I had thought talking would become easier for me after so long, and it was in a way. But at the same time, now I had to constantly filter what I did say. I didn’t want to ruin this, didn’t want to tell him too much too fast. He was going through his own problems now and they were far more important than mine. The problem this caused was I could never quite determine what was an “okay topic” and spent most of my time with him pondering what to say rather than just being with him.

“Are you okay?”

I looked up, meeting Frank’s concerned eyes. “Yeah! Sorry, I was just thinking.” I assured him. He had sat another plate of lasagna in front of me and I hadn’t even noticed. I took a bite of it as an excuse to not talk anymore. Warmth spread through me. “This is so fucking amazing.” I said, covering my mouth with my hand.

“I’m glad you like Amedea’s cooking. The other maid… well, she isn’t so great at the cooking bit. She does more of the cleaning stuff.” He sat on the large table by my plate, watching me eat.

“Was Italian your first language?” I asked curiously, watching him. As he began to talk, I took another bite of my food.

“No. Well, I just learned both,” He responded, smiling and shrugging. “It was kind of confusing when I was younger. Sometimes I still throw in the wrong words, you know? Like all of the time I can’t think of an English word so… like… if I was saying ‘I want an apple.’ I’d maybe say ‘I want a mela.’ It’s apple, in Italian.”

I nodded, staring up at him. My food was now forgotten. I loved listening to him talk. “Say something.”

“Huh?” he asked.

“In Italian. Say something?” I asked.

He looked up at the ceiling momentarily and then straight at me before spitting out what had to be at least three sentences in Italian.

“What was that?” I asked, amazed.

“I said, ‘I am very glad my parents are gone because my house is a lot friendlier with you in it… and I don’t want you to leave.’” He admitted, smiling shyly at me.

“I don’t get you.” I shook my head in awe.

“What?” he asked, leaning down.

“You’re so comfortable with me but I can’t even seem to hold a conversation.” I was feeling frustrated with myself again, wishing I was better company for him. I wasn’t good enough.

“I don’t think you need to hold a full conversation. I like your company, even if you can be quiet as a mouse. So what if we don’t fill every moment with pointless chatter?” he got down from the table, sitting gently on my lap. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“No. It’s me. I’m always like this.” I shrugged. He ran his fingers up and down my neck, stroking the sensitive skin. I felt myself shudder in response to his touch and my eyes closed. “Please.” I whispered, unaware I was even talking.

“Please what?” Frankie whispered back, his voice very breathy.

I leaned my forehead against his, pressing my lips to his. “Don’t leave me.”

His arms went around my waist and he pulled me close to him this time, resting my head on his shoulder. “Never.” He promised. “Never, ever will I let you go.”

I nodded wordlessly into his shoulder, returning his tight hug.