Status: Oneshot.
Windmill
One.
“Oh fuck me,” Ray mumbles.
Interest perks, but before they can all inquire, the van slows begrudgingly, and comes to a jerky stop.
“You have got to be kidding?” Frank groans from Gerard’s lap.
They all sigh in defeat, looking at each other miserably. There is absolutely no one on this road, and Gerard’s cell phone is dead, and the only other phone they have, Ray’s, doesn’t have service out here anyways. They’re all groaning and complaining because there is no call box nearby, and what the fuck, this is California, but apparently there is a call box everywhere except here. And it’s Ray, of course, who has to be the big boy of the group and volunteer to walk to find help. They hug him and promise to spoil him with gifts later,and he huffs, grabbing a water bottle, and trudges on down the road.
Matt is doing something on his laptop; Gerard isn’t much interested to know what, and Frank has moved from his lap, and is sitting up uncomfortably. “Stupid fuckin’ van,” Frank mumbles, and crawls over Gerard to the open door. Gerard watches Frank stalk off into the trees, lighting up a smoke as he goes.
Mikey looks at his brother, eyebrows raised, knowingly, and Gerard shoves him playfully before coughing, and casually climbing out of the van. He follows Frank’s path through the trees, his nose following the strong scent of tobacco Frank has left behind him. Soon he is engulfed in blossoming foliage, and beautiful, he thinks, but there is no sign of Frank. He keeps walking, knowing he is here somewhere, and man, it is fucking hot now, and there are branches smacking his face and he’s getting horribly sticky from sweat and dirt, and he feels utterly disgusting, and completely unattractive by the time he stumbles into a clearing. The grass is brilliant emerald green and the sun beams upon the scene in a way that makes this very spot seem like heaven itself. And there is Frank, opposite him, eyes closed, back resting against an old, rusty windmill.
Frank doesn’t look when Gerard approaches, though he’s not exactly quiet in doing so, but Frank doesn’t open his eyes, or even move really. He seems lost in the soft breeze and the repetitive motion he’s fallen into with his cigarette, still he says, “Knew you’d find me.”
“Yeah,” is all Gerard can think to says, smiling, and Frank opens his eyes, stares for a moment, then passes his dwindling cigarette to Gerard. He accepts it, and they are drown in silence for a few minutes. The sun has moved and it is beating upon them now, and Frank looks so beautiful, Gerard could not care less he’s sweating profusely from the blistering heat of the sun. They sit on the edge of the mill, not talking, not doing anything really, but with Frank, Gerard knows not every second has to be filled with words, noise. They like the silence, love the silence together. Frank leans his head against Gerard’s shoulder, and it is such a normal, everyday, Frank-like gesture, Gerard hardly takes notice. Frank likes affection, craves it; Gerard knows this, and he is okay with it, likes it even, but doesn’t think anything strange of it. But when he feels the heat of Frank’s breath on his neck, the air catches in his throat. Frank’s fingers are playing with the fray at the bottom of Gerard’s t-shirt, and suddenly all of this feels like so much more, and Gerard wants it to be so much more, but he is terrified, scared shitless of rejection, always has been.
Frank sighs into his neck, and it is then he realizes Frank’s hands are shaking, and his breaths are short, quivering almost. He has worked his hand under Gerard’s shirt now, his fingers resting ever so lightly on the cool of his stomach. Frank presses his full hand against Gerard’s skin, rubbing it softly, and Gerard sucks in a breath because the nerves running through him are completely shattering.
Frank looks at him, eyebrows deeply furrowed, his eyes full of questions, want, and Gerard is not quite sure how to respond. He is scared, but willing, oh so willing, and he wants this, wanted it since the moment Mikey introduced him to Frank. He has dreamt about this feeling, this moment, but now that he is here, he does not know exactly how to treat it. Frank is inching closer, just barely, and Gerard can feel his breath on his lips now, and...oh, oh. That is what he has been missing all this time, and oh. Ten times better than any dream, he thinks, and yes, this, here, now, this bliss is what he has been longing for. Frank’s lips are soft, so soft, and when his hand comes up to touch Gerard’s cheek he explodes inside, and it is right here, this moment, everything he could hope for. Frank’s arms are squeezed tightly around his middle now, and Gerard is floating on air. The wind begins to blow with more demand and there is a loud, piercing creak above them. They break apart, heads snapping up simultaneously, and watch the rusted windmill begin to turn slowly with the air.
And it’s a sign, or at least, Gerard takes it as one. The start of something new and beautiful, something that has always been there, but until this day, until the discovered magic in the air, here at this old, forgotten windmill, it has never had a chance to blossom, grow, but now, now it will be beautiful, magical, impossibly wonderful.
Frank continues to watch the mill, now picking up speed, and he gazes with a childish wonder, and Gerard thinks he is just fucking adorable. And when he abandons the windmill for Gerard’s smiling face, he blushes slightly when Gerard laughs at him fondly, lovingly. Cautiously, Gerard gathers him up, holds him close, right near his heart. They lean against the metal frame and they are in silence again for a long time, but they bask in the silence, the fragmented beauty it holds, cherishing this feeling, the pounding of each others hearts.
Eventually, Mikey appears across the clearing, angrily beckoning at them to hurry their asses up. Gerard releases Frank, and as they walk away, hand in hand, Gerard knows this fateful day and the exquisitely perfect moments they’ve shared here will never leave him. Mostly, he is divinely thankful for the old, forgotten, windmill he will never forget.
Interest perks, but before they can all inquire, the van slows begrudgingly, and comes to a jerky stop.
“You have got to be kidding?” Frank groans from Gerard’s lap.
They all sigh in defeat, looking at each other miserably. There is absolutely no one on this road, and Gerard’s cell phone is dead, and the only other phone they have, Ray’s, doesn’t have service out here anyways. They’re all groaning and complaining because there is no call box nearby, and what the fuck, this is California, but apparently there is a call box everywhere except here. And it’s Ray, of course, who has to be the big boy of the group and volunteer to walk to find help. They hug him and promise to spoil him with gifts later,and he huffs, grabbing a water bottle, and trudges on down the road.
Matt is doing something on his laptop; Gerard isn’t much interested to know what, and Frank has moved from his lap, and is sitting up uncomfortably. “Stupid fuckin’ van,” Frank mumbles, and crawls over Gerard to the open door. Gerard watches Frank stalk off into the trees, lighting up a smoke as he goes.
Mikey looks at his brother, eyebrows raised, knowingly, and Gerard shoves him playfully before coughing, and casually climbing out of the van. He follows Frank’s path through the trees, his nose following the strong scent of tobacco Frank has left behind him. Soon he is engulfed in blossoming foliage, and beautiful, he thinks, but there is no sign of Frank. He keeps walking, knowing he is here somewhere, and man, it is fucking hot now, and there are branches smacking his face and he’s getting horribly sticky from sweat and dirt, and he feels utterly disgusting, and completely unattractive by the time he stumbles into a clearing. The grass is brilliant emerald green and the sun beams upon the scene in a way that makes this very spot seem like heaven itself. And there is Frank, opposite him, eyes closed, back resting against an old, rusty windmill.
Frank doesn’t look when Gerard approaches, though he’s not exactly quiet in doing so, but Frank doesn’t open his eyes, or even move really. He seems lost in the soft breeze and the repetitive motion he’s fallen into with his cigarette, still he says, “Knew you’d find me.”
“Yeah,” is all Gerard can think to says, smiling, and Frank opens his eyes, stares for a moment, then passes his dwindling cigarette to Gerard. He accepts it, and they are drown in silence for a few minutes. The sun has moved and it is beating upon them now, and Frank looks so beautiful, Gerard could not care less he’s sweating profusely from the blistering heat of the sun. They sit on the edge of the mill, not talking, not doing anything really, but with Frank, Gerard knows not every second has to be filled with words, noise. They like the silence, love the silence together. Frank leans his head against Gerard’s shoulder, and it is such a normal, everyday, Frank-like gesture, Gerard hardly takes notice. Frank likes affection, craves it; Gerard knows this, and he is okay with it, likes it even, but doesn’t think anything strange of it. But when he feels the heat of Frank’s breath on his neck, the air catches in his throat. Frank’s fingers are playing with the fray at the bottom of Gerard’s t-shirt, and suddenly all of this feels like so much more, and Gerard wants it to be so much more, but he is terrified, scared shitless of rejection, always has been.
Frank sighs into his neck, and it is then he realizes Frank’s hands are shaking, and his breaths are short, quivering almost. He has worked his hand under Gerard’s shirt now, his fingers resting ever so lightly on the cool of his stomach. Frank presses his full hand against Gerard’s skin, rubbing it softly, and Gerard sucks in a breath because the nerves running through him are completely shattering.
Frank looks at him, eyebrows deeply furrowed, his eyes full of questions, want, and Gerard is not quite sure how to respond. He is scared, but willing, oh so willing, and he wants this, wanted it since the moment Mikey introduced him to Frank. He has dreamt about this feeling, this moment, but now that he is here, he does not know exactly how to treat it. Frank is inching closer, just barely, and Gerard can feel his breath on his lips now, and...oh, oh. That is what he has been missing all this time, and oh. Ten times better than any dream, he thinks, and yes, this, here, now, this bliss is what he has been longing for. Frank’s lips are soft, so soft, and when his hand comes up to touch Gerard’s cheek he explodes inside, and it is right here, this moment, everything he could hope for. Frank’s arms are squeezed tightly around his middle now, and Gerard is floating on air. The wind begins to blow with more demand and there is a loud, piercing creak above them. They break apart, heads snapping up simultaneously, and watch the rusted windmill begin to turn slowly with the air.
And it’s a sign, or at least, Gerard takes it as one. The start of something new and beautiful, something that has always been there, but until this day, until the discovered magic in the air, here at this old, forgotten windmill, it has never had a chance to blossom, grow, but now, now it will be beautiful, magical, impossibly wonderful.
Frank continues to watch the mill, now picking up speed, and he gazes with a childish wonder, and Gerard thinks he is just fucking adorable. And when he abandons the windmill for Gerard’s smiling face, he blushes slightly when Gerard laughs at him fondly, lovingly. Cautiously, Gerard gathers him up, holds him close, right near his heart. They lean against the metal frame and they are in silence again for a long time, but they bask in the silence, the fragmented beauty it holds, cherishing this feeling, the pounding of each others hearts.
Eventually, Mikey appears across the clearing, angrily beckoning at them to hurry their asses up. Gerard releases Frank, and as they walk away, hand in hand, Gerard knows this fateful day and the exquisitely perfect moments they’ve shared here will never leave him. Mostly, he is divinely thankful for the old, forgotten, windmill he will never forget.
♠ ♠ ♠
I was driving to California, coming in from Arizona, and if you've ever driven that way, you've passed the fucking hundreds of rows of windmills. I've always loved that sight, and this was what came out of it this time.Enjoy, I hope.
Comments/ con crit?
xoxo