Something I Could Hold Onto

Frank really wished these dreams would stop.

Once again, he found himself entangled in Gerard's arms, shirtless and shivering and strangely content. His body was cold; even in the dream, he realized this. The chocolate brown comforter adorning the bed he laid upon tickled the skin of his bare chest and stuck to his legs. Why was he wet? Was he sweating?

Frank though casually, amused by his knowing that the white walls around him were those of a relaxed dream world, in which all was right and all was fair. The smell of pine hung low and thick in the air, almost like an invisible fog. He smiled lazily, the corners of his mouth twitching almost reflexively as he breathed deeply. A gentle hum sounded beside him, characteristically calm and almost eerily sweet. He listened intently, curling deeper into the smooth, warm skin of his companion.

He soon recognized the tune, adjusting his breathing to match the slow bass. Frank's hands began moving to the drum, tapping softly against Gerard's ribs; the action earned him a shocked gasp and a nervously stuttered "F-Frankie?"

The smile on the younger boy's face grew upon hearing the other's voice. "Yeah, Gee?"

That's strange, he thought. Why is my voice shaking?

"Frankie, don't move, j-just st-stay still, okay? I made coffee, and I have more blankets, just please stay still." Gerard was rambling now, his tone urgent and heavy, a stark contrast from the usually luxuriously inviting form. "I swear I won't hurt you, I swear, I swear... Just stay here, please?"

Frank blinked several times, clearing his suddenly blurry vision. Tears dotted the elder boy's eyes, brimming over his dark lashes and clumping them all together. His cheeks were flushed, mimicking the crimson in his eyes, and his bloodied lips suggested that he had been chewing on the tender tissue.

The smaller boy sat up, confusion now masking the initial enchantment of this less-than-convincing dream. Instantly, a subtle pain ran through his back, touching every nerve and every vein and every available inch of skin. The joints of his arms and the base of his neck were suddenly awakened from their respective numbness and alive with a dull pounding. He groaned, confusion masking his disintegrating pleasure.

What the hell is this?

"No no no no no!" Gerard yelped, gently forcing Frank's slender shoulders to the mattress. "Please, Frankie! You're sick, and you probably need to lay down for a little while longer!"

A fresh edge of hysteria rocked Gerard's already shaken attitude. He whimpered, eyes transfixed on the boy before him: his lips gaped and closed like a fish without water as he stared at his friend, his victim, and most importantly the person he could not get out of his head.

The person he thought he may have loved, or at least could love given the time.

Frank began to breathe heavily, his chest expanding past normal capacity. It felt to him as if his lungs had been frozen through and shrunken; he began to acknowledge his condition, whatever that may be, and was inclined to follow his caretaker's suggestion.

"W-w-what h-happened?" he asked softly, curling into the warm skin of Gerard's chest. A vague sense of risk infiltrated his clouded mind as he recalled the night more than a month before. Calloused hands, heavy limbs, the intrusive thump thump thump of alcohol inside his skull. It was all so realistic, all so vivid that for a moment he believed he was experiencing it for the first time.

He gasped, flinched, and tightened his curl until it strongly resembled the fetal position. He wasn't scared; on the contrary, Frank was very much relieved to find himself with Gerard in such an intimate situation. It was the memory, however, that caused him to react so disdainfully.

And it was the hurt painted across his savior's face that caused him to take his hand.

Fresh sobs shook Gerard's fragile ribs, teary-eyed apologies and a broken record of "I'msosorry" escaping his lips as he covered his face with his hands. "You never l-let me apologize," he whimpered into his fingers. "I was drunk, and I didn't know what I was doing, and I'd take it all back if I could, I really would!" He breathed deeply, staring intently into his favorite pair of eyes. "Hurting you was the worst thing I could ever imagine, and I hate myself for it," he whispered with a gritty voice. "I stopped for you so it won't happen again, but I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry..."

"Shh," Frank cooed, tucking himself into his companions arms. "I missed you, Gee... I don't care anymore, I forgive you, but I missed you so much..."

It was in that moment that the path of their lives -- if only for the immediate future -- was determined, be it the dim light of the stars pouring in the window, the cold consuming the two and the resulting close proximity, the strange need for love both boys had suppressed for God knows how long, or maybe just the full moon. Gerard still shook, his trembling arms wrapped firmly around his newly-found friend. His lips were chapped, compared to Frank's thin blue ones, and yet he couldn't help but imagine how perfectly they would fit together.

"Frankie..." he whispered, his breath warm and thick and everything Frank was missing.

It's hard to say who initiated the kiss, but the action itself said everything the two had left silent. It sang of lonely nights and lonelier days, haunted dreams and empty consciousness, of hardened thoughts and stony hearts. It hummed sweetly of longing and patience and joy and forgiveness.

But most importantly, it promised a new beginning, a "once upon a time" with the happiness but never the ending.

Frank exhaled with a smile, finally content for more reasons than he could count. He was with Gerard, and he was safe. A new pot of coffee was wafting down the hallway, The Smiths were playing in the background. He was allowed to be Frankie again, something he had never been gifted with in all his time with --

And suddenly he remembered why he was in Gerard's apartment.

Rick.