Speaking to the Atmosphere

30th June 2006

It was unusually cold for an early summer afternoon. A very slight frost chilled the air, getting mildly annihilated by yellow-orange shafts of sunlight that battled the clouds, slicing through them with surprising ease. The typically hot and humid summer had been molded and morphed into something new; the bizarre bought of cold weather had materialized from a warm and comfortable haze in the space of a few weeks. Abnormalities such as this would usually go unnoticed by most people, aside from news and weather teams across the state, and theydid go unnoticed; people had more important things than the weather to worry about these days. There was no time to watch the news and weather, even though stories of the worlds impending doom were popping up left right and centre.

Frank had established that he had too much time on his hands.

He had been thinking about the harsh change of weather as he walked towards Gerard and Mikey’s house, pushing his hands deeper into his pockets, away from the cold that was now biting the exposed skin on his face, turning it an ever so light shade of pink. Most days, he would have nothing at all to do except from think, (which eventually got boring as he deemed his imagination to be very lax), and he began to flick aimlessly through countless television channels until his fingers stopped pressing the button. Somehow, it would always stop on the news station. In mere moments Frank’s mind would be captivated by the images on the screen, hanging on every word that the news reader said.

Real life, was what Frank thrived on. True stories seemed to fuel his imagination; they never used to, never. Frank could vividly remember getting lost in piles and piles of comic books, escaping into worlds that he never knew existed. Now, however, he had grown up far beyond his years, and cynicism had been growing more prominent within him with each day that passed by. Worlds like the ones in those comic books would never exist; never in a million years would they become a real part of life. In real life, events that endangered the lives of huge numbers of people could never be reversed, there wasn’t such a thing as a time machine or a famous superhero that could turn back time; things like that could never exist in real life.

This aspect of his personality was where Frank differed from that of his boyfriend. Gerard, the person that fueled Frank’s fresh and youthful fire, was very much into creating worlds that didn’t exist in the comfort of his own mind. Ever since his younger years as a shy and introverted little boy, new places and new events had been born and bred within his brain, inside his own little private heaven up in the fabricated clouds of his mind. Of course, Gerard had known and maybe always will know that worlds such as the one that was brewing up in his head for years could never be a part of real life, he had some grip on reality after all, but he just needed somewhere to escape to when or if times got tough.

Frank envied Gerard so much because of his ability to do such a thing. Gerard believed that Frankdid have the imagination to do such a thing, everyone has, but it was Frank’s lack of enthusiasm for it that troubled Gerard. The line of rope between real life and worlds of imaginary escapism was a fairly thin line, but it just depended on how hard you held onto that rope. Gerard was often ready to let go of the rope and just fall headfirst into a fantasy world where you were in control; Gerard liked to be in control of his life. Frank differed however. Once upon a time, Frank was very much like Gerard; a curious and imaginative young boy. Things had changed ever since his parents had divorced. In Frank’s mind, everything was fine; they were a well off and happy family that overcame all obstacles that were put in their way – that was the way he viewed his family life. The reality of the situation, however, had been very much the opposite; Frank just didn’t want to be able to see that everything was falling apart around him; that had been the reality.

Despite Frank only being a naïve nine year old, he seemed to grow up way beyond his years in a mere matter of months. His dad had long since moved out and his enthusiasm for comic books and cartoons had diminished dramatically, even Gerard noticed. Gerard had found this odd, not in an entirely life changing way, but he realised that the divorce was hitting Frank harder than he was letting on. Gerard had sat by and watched as Frank refused to even so much aslook at anything that resembled anything other than reality. When the two of them, plus Mikey, had sat down to watch a film (namelySuperman), Frank had walked out with a cold look on his face. Gerard and Mikey had exchanged glances of surprise and worry, but then decided to leave him to it, it was his choice after all. Gerard had been particularly taken aback when he had found Frank at the kitchen table reading a newspaper with a look of new found wonder on his face.

At the time, Gerard had been facing certain problems of his own. Turning 13 had been particularly awkward; he had moved to a new school full of new people in a different part of town. As well as battling with puberty, Gerard’s mind seemed to be splitting into two parts about his sexuality, one side of his brain bullying the other for thinking notably odd thoughts about certain acquaintances that had happened to show an interest in him. In his previous school, he had not been an outcast per se, but he took the liberty of not making too many friends and instead of going out and doing sports with the other boys, he preferred to sit under the shade of the trees and draw until his mind was empty. In this new school however, as he had finally grown into his skin a bit more, people had started to notice him more, and he had no idea what to do about it. He felt a tug deep down inside whenever he saw Frank, and that lurch told him that he needed to keep Frank close, and love and care for him unconditionally no matter what happened. It was then that Gerard decided something; he could like and love whoever, regardless of their gender. That aspect was just a part of who he was, who he would grow up to be.

Frank had not grown out of his faze and interest for everything real. He concentrated more in the subjects that required less imagination and more knowledge of what had actually happened, such as History. Frank had begun to let Art and English slide, his grades noticeably going down in those areas. Whenever his teachers or his mother or Gerard asked him why he was no longer interested in those subjects, his reply would be along the lines of,It’s because I don’t have the imagination. Gerard particularly, had regarded this statement as a blatant lie. Frankhad the imagination; he just chose not to use it, refusing hands down because of his constant need to grip onto reality.

Since Gerard and Frank had been together, Frank had been gradually (ever so gradually) easing out of his safe bubble of realism and crossing over into the world of reverie but he was still countless miles away from the dividing line, and before he could ever step into the world of his own imagination, he would have to shed the skin of reality first, and Gerard believed that to be a hard task for Frank. It was Gerard’s deepest and darkest desire to make Frank see the beauty in creating a world entirely for your own amusement, as selfish as that seems. In Gerard’s world, the sky was a dull shade of gray whenever Frank wasn’t in it. Birds would not be singing or flying, not wanting to stain their feathers with the potent, slate gray dye that dripped from the clouds in short and unforgiving bursts. He laughed at himself an endless amount of times about how much of a cliché he was, but he seriously couldn’t imagine the world being a bright and happy place if Frank wasn’t in it.

And so, Gerard desperately wanted Frank’s creativity to return to him, purely because he wanted them to have their own little world, one which only they could escape to when reality was too much. That was what Frank had needed at the time of his parents’ divorce, a world to just get completely lost in, but the problem was he didn’t want to; the world he had previously been residing in had been a lie, and he sure as hell didn’t want to continue living a lie. Gerard wanted them to have a world where their imagination reined over everything. Gerard wanted a place where the two of them could escape to, purely to be together, without the worry of possible arrests and years talking to each other behind thick sheets of glass – that would be the definition of hell for the both of them.

Gerard had a feeling that their world would be so undeniably beautiful, just like their relationship was (but not the illegal part), laws wouldn’t apply, at all. The sun would be unbelievably big and it would beam down onto the two of them, covering them with warmth and care so strong that they could feel their skin seeping with it. The clouds would be incredible, white and bright and puffy like cotton candy. Their shining silver linings would stand in stark contrast to the sky, which rich and cyan blues swirled together to create the perfect shade of serenity. They would lie together on soft and thick grassy hills and just soak everything in; their perfectly suitable surroundings and obviously, each other. Every thought, every feeling, emotions and dreams would get thrown out of their own heads and out onto a web of multicoloured cotton and silk that would make a rainbow on the clouds as the sun hit it at just the right angle. The inhabitants of that web would sit firm and sturdy in front of their eyes, and they would dissect each others very being until there was nothing left.

Gerard thought that that was what the world should be like; just you, and the person you love finding out every immaculate detail of one another’s minds. Gerard was certain that if he could, he would hand Frank everything that resided inside of his head if heonly could. He believed that soul mates (if you believe, Gerard sure does) should have no secrets and no desires that they keep to themselves. Gerard wasn’t entirely sure that Frank felt the same way about it as he did; Frank wasn’t a private person but sometimes he didn’t open up as easily as he would like. Gerard was an entirely private person however, but only Frank could get him to come out of his shell andactually talk, and so Frank was the exception, and Gerard wanted to give himeverything. He wished that Frank wouldwant to give Gerard everything; after all, they wereeverything to each other. If there was ever a way to hand someone your mind, then Gerard wished that Frank and him would exchange because if he ever knew entirely what was going on inside Frank’s head, then Gerard could somehow try to fulfill all of Frank’s dreams and wishes. Impossible. Surely that was impossible, there was no such thing as magic so, inevitably these thoughts that were stored inside Gerard’s head were never going to materialize into anythingreal.

Real. Gerard hated that word.What was real, anyway?

Gerard was an artist; with art, anything is possible. Art is all about interpretation, how the artists see the world and everything in it. But you can go beyond the world that we live in, and create an image of a perfect world, the world that would be right for you and you only; no one is exactly the same, and not everyone shares the same perception of the world. That was why Gerard painted so much; he needed to transfer his perceptions onto paper or canvas just because his imagination was so vast, that he feared his head would explode with the pressure of so much creativity. However, the canvas that was hanging on Frank’s bedroom wall was not a painting of an imaginary world or a fictional character, it was of Frank himself, and it had been painted exactly how Gerard saw him, with sparkling eyes and a wide sloping smile. If that was how Gerard himself saw him, then that was real enough for Frank, but then, Frank worshiped the very canvas Gerard painted onto.

Gerard loved to paint in Frank’s presence, and Frank, despite himself, loved to watch the reality fade from Gerard’s eyes as he got sucked inside his head, regurgitating his thoughts into image form onto a blank canvas. There was something liberating about the way utter concentration took over Gerard’s facial features, molding his mouth into a firm line, the infrequent flick of the tongue as it escaped from the cavern to wet his dry lips. Frank could just watch,all day, with his chin in his palm and his legs crossed on Gerard’s bed as the soft scratch of the paintbrush smeared colours over the occasional bump on the stretched material. It was like watching God spraying water onto a desert with a casual flick of his hand, the sight so effortless and impressive as the parched ground eagerly soaked up the liquid.

Gerard was always exhausted when he was finished, which was often after hours and hours of straight painting without a break. Sometimes he wouldn’t even finish a painting in the time that Frank was there, and so, when he finally came out of his trance, it was time for Frank to leave, and usually, they realised that they hadn’t said any more than two words to each other. Luckily, this one time, Gerard had been finishing off a painting that he had already started, and so the silence only lasted about an hour before Gerard emerged from his imagination and into the real world once again. He had stepped back to look at his piece, thoroughly happy with the image, and then Frank had helped him clean the caked-on paint off of his brushes and palette. Frank liked to watch the vivid colours blend with the water, bleaching the fluids every colour in existence before it was lost down the plug hole.

They were currently lying on Gerard’s bed, and Frank was staring at the paint cracks in the ceiling and just enjoying the feeling of being together. Times like these, which required no talking, were often the best they shared. The time didn’t have to be filled up with dialogue, mostly they just liked to listen to each other breathe, pressed up against each other so that they know they’re not at all alone. Although they both loved the exchange of totally in-depth conversation between the two of them, it was not always necessary. Sometimes their time spent together was used as a time of reflection, to look back over how much had changed.

Frank sighed; “Do you think…” he hesitated, wondering whether the question was completely inappropriate to use to break the silence. He contemplated this for a few moments, but when Gerard’s eyelids opened to reveal curious eyes, and he raised his head slightly from its position on Frank’s chest. He could sense tension, a kind of nervous murmur that had occurred between them some weeks ago; one that he thought had disappeared as certain events unfolded. “Do you think things would be different between us if what happened last week hadn’t happened?” Frank stumbled over his words, anticipation Gerard’s reaction.

Of course, Frank was referring to what happened on Midsummer Eve, or ‘The Longest Day’ as some called it. That night had been the night that ended all of the awkward touches and the nervous demeanor that Gerard possessed whenever he was around Frank. Frank wanted to show Gerard how far he was willing to go to prove his love for Gerard and he wanted to lay the thick tension that always seemed to hang between them to rest. Feelings within them had evolved that night. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t previously harbored an unbreakable bond between them, but it only got stronger and stronger after they had partaken in a act that expresses your true self, a side to you that only your lover could ever see; and that was special.

“Why?” Gerard asked all too quickly, searching Frank’s almost amused eyes for any warning signs. When he found none, he went on skeptically. “You’re not regretting it are you?” Gerard hoped he knew the answer to that question; he didn’t think he could deal with the guilt if Frank said yes. Giving yourself to someone for the first time ever was a bold thing to do as it was, but for Gerard,taking away Frank’s innocence was something that had played on his mind ever since that night. Gerard had given away himself also that night, but somehow, to Gerard, it didn’t seem as important when the boot was on the other foot. Gerard was older, not necessarily more mature than Frank but he had more first hand knowledge of the world because of the 4 year age difference. Frank was a minor, and the illegality of their relationship didn’t seem to apply to either of them, but if anyone were to find out what they had done, theneverything could get taken away, and Gerard didn’t want to live with that guilt.

“Not at all.” Frank answered simply, with a slight shake of his head. He gave Gerard a small smile as Gerard returned his head to its space on Frank’s chest, and he took comfort in listening to the steady drum of the heart beneath his ear, underneath flesh and blood and bones all wrapped up in skin that Gerard was familiar with. Frank’s fingers were entangled within the knots of ebony and he gently let the strands pass through the gaps between the digits. “I was just wondering whether it would still be awkward, ish, between us…” Gerard, having no reply to this, decided to urge Frank to keep on talking by fiddling with the worn hem of his shirt.

Frank took a breath. “I mean, we’re comfortable with each other now right?” He felt Gerard nod into his chest, a smallMmmh emanating from his throat. Frank felt the vibration underneath his ribs and held back the urge to giggle; it would take away all seriousness. “Before, you were scared even to touch me. Now, you’re different.” He paused, and Gerard was still listening intently, silently agreeing. “You’re still gentle though, as if I’m some kind of rare china doll that could break with the least amount of pressure.” Frank laughed slightly, pulling lightly on a lock of Gerard’s wild hair as if to tame it, as he felt Gerard smile into his shirt. “But now, there’s this slightly rough edge around the tips of your fingers, as if they’re coated with the finest possible sandpaper. And you’re lips feel slightly harder too, as if they’ve been plumped up with collagen.” Frank smiled a little when he felt Gerard tense on his body, and so he went on, responding to his boyfriend’s body language. “Don’t worry, I like it. It makes everything less innocent, less like a teenage fling and more like an adult romance. It makes me feel older Gee, and I’m sure as hell not complaining about that.”

They were silent for a few minutes, just mulling over everything that Frank had just thrown into the air. The silence wasn’t the kind that was laced with tension and unease, it was a comfortable silence but Frank found the silence to be far too loud in his ears. He seized all movement, nervous dread filling his eyes as he really looked at the undertones of what he had said. Immediately, he wished that he could swallow them all back, but they were long gone, mixing with particles of air and dust which would settle on the objects in Gerard’s room and lay there forever. Gerard picked up on Frank’s sudden change of mood, and his head flew up, searching Frank’s face for any signs. He also noticed that Frank wasn’t breathing.

“Breathe, Frank.” He whispered gently, moving his own body off of Frank’s and settling down on the mattress beside Frank, trying to urge him to breathe. Frank finally exhaled a long gust of air, as he turned over to face Gerard who was now grasping his hands tightly. Gerard waited, looking at his lover with confusion evident in his eyes, until Frank’s chest rose and fell at a relatively normal rhythm. “Nice imagery…” Gerard said slowly and skeptically, wanting to see if that was the reason for his little episode, and Frank’s eyes flicked up to meet his, pain written on his face.

“I can’t help it anymore, Gee.” He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, trying to calm himself down after his slight panic attack. “I’ve tried so hard not to get lost in my mind, but recently, my imagination just seems to creep up and knock my resolve back down again.” Frank sighed, and Gerard waited for him to go on. “It’s not necessarily a bad thing, I know that you don’t think it is, but it just doesn’t feel safe after everything that’s happened in the past…” he trailed off, noticing Gerard smiling slightly. “I don’t know why you’re smiling; this is entirely your fault Gerard!”

Gerard couldn’t help but laugh at this, and soon enough, Frank was joining in with him. “Sorry,” Gerard apologized. “I think it’ll do you some good if you just let it all come flooding back to you. It’s not healthy to just push your subconscious imagination away every time it sneaks up on you; just let it run free!” They both laughed, snuggling up to each other as a flash of cold ripped through Gerard’s room; the window was open. “Anyway, why is it my fault?” He asked against Frank’s hair.

“Because,” Frank began, trying to think of the right way to word his thoughts. “Like I said earlier, you’ve changed me, made me feel older in every way. You’re inspiring Gee, your paintings aren’t just paintings; they’re each a little part of the figment of your imagination. Each one is so unique in its own way, which suggests that you can just go inside your head at any time, for any amount of time and justthink. I, on the other hand, fill up my head with history, real life stories,weather reports even, because they’re all real, they’ve all happened or are currently happening. I desperately want to ease out of this stupid and pointless obsession and justget lost in a world of my own once in a while. It’s all coming back to me now, ever since that night in the field.” He paused, biting his lip, convinced that Gerard would laugh or mock him for his next sentence. “You awakened something inside me, Gerard, and I’m not sure that I know how to use it correctly anymore.”

Frank stopped, finally, sighed lightly with relief when Gerard’s face stayed still like stone for a few seconds without saying a word. Again, part of him wanted to suck the words back in, feeling them slip and slide down his throat and into his stomach where they could never be unearthed again, unless someone swept a knife over his belly and the contents of both his brain and his stomach dropped onto the floor before his very eyes.

“So…” Gerard said, not taking his eyes off a spot on the far wall of his bedroom as he spoke. Gerard had been overcome with flattery over Frank’s recent revelations;he was the one thing that had roused Frank’s creativity out from somewhere deep inside himself, creativity that had been previously sitting deep and dark inside his gut, wrapped tightly around his intestines as they waited for the right moment to emerge. Gerard guessed that the right moment had ultimately been when they had decided to give themselves to each other. He knew that Frank was scared, he didn’t want to slip too far into fantasy worlds of the mind, and Gerard was damned if he wasn’t going to help him realise that this escape was exactly what he needed.

“So…?”

Finally, Gerard met Frank’s curious eyes. “I’m going to have to teach you how to imagine again.”

**

“Close your eyes, and tell me what you see.” Gerard was currently pacing the short the space between his desk and his easel, his hand on his chin in a thoughtful gesture, but his eyes fixed towards Frank with intellectual amusement. He had ordered them to get up off the bed, making Frank sit on the end of his bed while Gerard set about closing the curtains, and shutting the window, and thinking of ways to get the ball rolling.

“I see you.” Frank said simply, after a few moments of silence.

Gerard nodded, although Frank couldn’t see him. “What am I wearing?” he asked.

“Exactly what you’re wearing now.”

Gerard sighed airily, deciding his next move. “Imagine me dressed in, older clothing.” Gerard considered this for a moment. “A black pin-striped suit with a white lapel, complete with a white tie and a top hat to match…” Gerard watched intently as Frank’s face screwed up as he crushed his eyes even further shut and tried to urge his brain to conjure up the image. “Do you see it?” Frank nodded slowly.

“I see it.” He breathed.

“What’s in the background, a scene, a solid colour, a mix of colours, or what?” Gerard inquired, biting down on his lip to quash his giggles as Frank appeared to be squinting into the back of his eyelids, his head pushed forward on his neck as if he was trying to spot a figure from a great distance away. “Tell me, Frankie.”

“It’s just, black.” He replied, squinting even further into the darkness. “It’s so dark that I can see the black of your clothes gradually blending in with it.” Gerard mentally high-fived himself, he hadn’t told Frank to imagine fusing colours, but he had done so of his own accord; it was progress, indeed.

“Right, good.” Gerard began, unaware that he was gradually moving closer the bed where Frank was sitting. “Change the black of the background into some sort of scene which would go with the outfit I’m wearing.” Gerard was hoping for something eccentric to pop up in Frank’s mind, but his mouth turned into a frown when Frank started to fidget, his hands beginning to grip onto the fabric of his jeans, his face gaining a thoroughly pained expression.

“Gerard, I can’t.” he said hopelessly, and Gerard questioned himself about whether this exercise was a little too much too fast. Gerard bit down on his nail, with an air of calm-and-collectiveness adorning his features.

“Do you want to stop?” Gerard said, speaking around the nail that was in his mouth, tempted to bite it clean off.

“No.” Frank said simply, and Gerard took his slightly filed down nail from his mouth with a small sigh. “Do you?”

Gerard stopped moving; he hadn’t anticipated Frank asking him the question. Truthfully, Gerard didn’t want to stop at all; he wanted Frank to share his creative enthusiasm so that could effectively be the fuel to each other’s fire.

“No.” And Gerard was back to biting his nail again. “Because I know you can do it…”

Suddenly, a comfortable atmosphere brought silence to the room, washing over the walls like a calming tide which descended to the floor and pooled around their bare feet, changing their moods entirely. Frank had found a thread of confidence and enthusiasm from deep within himself, and Gerard really did believe that he could overcome his faze of pushing away his imagination. Gerard’s thoughts were interrupted by a seemingly small and timid voice that came from far away.

“You’re at…a ball.” Frank murmured, a noticeable blush dusting his cheeks with pink powder. Gerard smiled,more. “A Masquerade… your mask only covers half of your face; white with black swirls and circles and black lace. There is a circus trouper swinging from a trapeze that’s nailed into the ceiling, and another eating fire and then blowing it into the air. The flames are so bright, vivid red-orange, and I can see the reflection in the eyes of the other guests and the fire casts an orange glow on your face which brings out the colour in your eyes that hide behind the mask.” He paused, looking reluctant to carry on as Gerard watched him intently, elated. “You’re smiling, and we’re dancing…”

“We’re dancing?” Gerard questioned.

“Yes.” Frank nodded, and after a long time, he opened his eyes, the images in his mind disappearing in a grey puff of smoke. “You and me…” Gerard smiled; Frank’s eyes were laced with excitement and triumph as he watched Gerard move nearer to him, sitting down next to him on the bed and taking his hands in his own. “I think it may have worked Gee…” Frank beamed.

“I’m glad.” Gerard stated sincerely, lifting Frank’s hands to his mouth and kissing each of Frank’s knuckles before speaking again. “I only want what’s best for you, and although, I don’t think thatI’m the best thing for you,” he ignored Frank’s irritated look. “Having a perfect world to escape to whenever you feel like it is definitely a positive thing…” He pecked Frank’s lips unexpectedly and urged him to lay on the bed with him, and they resumed their previous position; Gerard’s head on Frank’s chest and their fingers entwined, enjoying the silence once again.

“What’s your 'perfect world' like?” Frank asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence. Gerard smiled; he had secretly been waiting and wishing for Frank to ask this particular question.

“Well,” he began; placing his head next to Frank’s on his pillow so that he could look at him whilst he talked. “It’salways quiet;incredibly quiet, so much so that even if you’reno where near it, you can hear the move of the ocean as the waves crash and churn up the sand on the beach, and the soft roll of the clouds as they travel slowly across the sky.”

“What is the sky like?” Frank asked, now thoroughly interested in Gerard’s imaginary world. He realized that Gerard was telling him a very personal thing; the very makeup of his mind.

Gerard thought for a few seconds. “Blue, just like the real sky,” he paused. “But much, much brighter…it seems logical enough.”

Frank considered this for a moment. “But surely, imagination doesn’t involve logic, or limitation.” Gerard tipped his head to the side comically, furrowing his eyebrows as he listened to what Frank was saying; he had a very valid point. “You could make your sky, your grass, your sea,any colour in the world, and yet, you said that yours was just blue, ‘like the real sky’…” he trailed off for a second, thinking. “I would’ve thought that someone with your imagination and artistic expertise would’ve been more,imaginative, for lack of a better word…” Frank grinned, his mouth sloping up a little on the right side.

Gerard laughed. “It’s just, there’s a lot of positive connotation with the colour blue.” Frank was intrigued, and wondered where and when Gerard had the time to investigate such interesting things as colour connotations. Although, Frank would admit to researching the meaning and words related to his favourite colour, and maybe just a few others, but that was irrelevant at thatprecise moment. “Obviously, it’s the colour of the sky and the sea, and so it reflects calmness and peace, but then also strength and obscenity. But that wasn’t why I chose for my sky to be blue; it was the relevance with unity, loyalty, dependability and love that reminds me of us, our relationship…” Gerard tore himself away from Frank’s eyes, embarrassed by what he was going to say next, although he knew that Frank would never judge him – rightfully, he should be flattered by Gerard’s next statement. “The trust, truth and wisdom elements within the colour blue remind me of you, so effectively, in my own little world, when I look up at the sky, it reminds me of us; you…”

It took Gerard a minute to realise that Frank was crying. He felt wet on his neck, where Frank’s head was now resting, and his grip had gotten tighter; holding onto Gerard as if he was going to get so lost in that other world, that he’d end up never coming back. Gerard silently petted Frank’s hair, fighting back tears himself; he hadn’t meant to make Frank cry, but the truth was the truth after all, and that was how he felt.

“Gerard.” Frank took his head out of the crook of Gerard’s neck, laying on top of his boyfriend’s body, and his tear-stained face searched Gerard’s own. The saying of his name wasn’t a question, an inquiry to see if Gerard was still there, it was a statement, attracting attention; he meant business. “I love you.”

They kissed, long and slow and sensual. Frank’s declaration (although it had been said many times before) had struck some kind of chord within the both of them: theywere going to be together forever. If they didn’t feel strongly about that fact before, then they sure as hell did now.

Frank was the one to break away, needing to get his fix of the oxygen into his lungs before he started to hyperventilate. He was biting his lip, panting hard, as was Gerard, and he placed his forehead against Gerard’s until they had both caught their breath. Throughout the kiss, Frank had done some thinking.

Releasing his lip, he spoke. “You know,” he started, sniffing, and Gerard reached up to wipe some of the stray tears from his face. “In my perfect world, the sky would be purple…” Frank smiled, and Gerard was glad to see a sparkle in his eye that wasn’t brought on by the tears.

“Oh yea? Why?” Gerard inquired, pleased that the creative exercise that they had done earlier hadn’t been a waste of time; Frank was thinking more for himself now, and Gerard was fascinated as to why Frank picked that specific colour.

“You mix blue and red to make purple.” Frank went on, a thoughtful look on his face as Gerard nodded. “Well, the connotations with blue, that you listed earlier, combined with the connotations of the colour red pretty much makes that decision.” Gerard looked intent, urging Frank to explain his point further. “Well, red is linked to passion, love, ambition, respect…danger.” Frank scrolled through the only ones that he could remember, they all seemed to apply. “The danger element of red applies entirely to us, and of course, love is a given."

Gerard nodded again, realizing where Frank was going with this. “So, a mix of the two combined pretty much makes up my view of us. Also, purple represents mystery, wisdom, pride, creativity…” They both grinned. “In my opinion, the colour of the sky in my little world is the most important thing; it’s what holds the world itself together, and the colours filter down through the air and onto the world and reflects in the eyes of the inhabitants…” Gerard really did wonder if Frank was some kind of ancient philosopher trapped in the body of a 14 year old; Frank’s view on their relationship were spot on, and the words that he’d just spoken were so creative and clever. Gerard was proud, so incredibly proud. “I think it would be quiet in my world too…”

“Why’s that?” Gerard asked.

Frank grinned. “Because we’d be the only one’s in it…