These Eyes Are Blind

Frank sits there listening hard, because that's all he can do, to the loud sounds going around in the locker room. Everyone has left and then there's Frank stuck inside with Blake. He's tormenting him, making loud sounds, and trying to scare the shit out of Frank. Truth be told, it's working, but Frank can't go unless someone comes in and helps him. So far no one has come, but he knows someone will soon, because Gerard will know that something is up if he's too late coming outside.

Gerard. Frank tries to focus on Gerard, the sound of his voice, and not the sound of Blake screaming obscenities at him. He tries to focus on the touch of Gerard's hand and not the touch of Blake pushing him into the lockers. Frank crumbles and tries to think about the sound of Gerard's loud heart beat when they're lying together and not the loud banging of his cane against the lockers from Blake's stupid hands. Frank knows after this he'll need to get a new cane and his mother isn't going to be happy about it at all. She's going to want to hang Blake from the small hoop in his ear, which Frank only knows he has because he's heard everyone talking about it in the gym.

Insert Frank's sarcastic chuckle at him in the gymnasium and fast forward to the torment in the locker room that's going on right now. Blake hovers over Frank and Frank folds in on himself to block any hits that may come his way.

"You think you're so cute now, because you have a boyfriend. You think you're king of the blind or some shit," Blake's voice gets closer and Frank can feel his breath on the back of his neck. It’s gross, having him so near. He wishes he would get the hell away from him, Blake just isn’t the kind of person he needs near him. Gerard is. He needs Gerard.

"Well guess what..." Blake pauses for dramatic effect and if Frank could see he'd kick Blake's ass for being so corny. "...you're not."

Blake stands up swiftly and Frank can hear the wind blowing and before he can decipher what it's from he's hit with the weight of Blake's boot in his side. That was one hell of a powerful kick and Frank starts coughing uncontrollably.

"What's wrong, huh? You can have hardcore fuck sessions with your boyfriend, but you can't take a hit?"

Then Frank hears it faintly. Footsteps running towards the locker room and if he wasn't in pain he'd probably start dancing. There's loud banging on the door and Frank hears his cane hit the floor and Blake's footsteps getting further away. Then he hears Blake unlocking the door, which Frank would have to say something about, because how the hell did he get the keys? That's when he hears it, Gerard's voice, the loudest sound even at a distance.

"Where the hell is he?" Gerard asks in a very threatening voice.

"You're all just in time. I was just leaving," Blake chuckles darkly and begins walking away. "Your boy may need a new cane."

"If he's hurt you're going to need a new body, because I will run you down with my car," Gerard spits and enters the locker room with Mikey and Brendon close behind him.

"Ah man Frank," Mikey speaks out first.

Frank doesn't say anything, this is like the first time they met, except now Gerard's there and he's embarrassed even more. Frank lifts his head slowly and looks around at nothing. He can barely see Gerard either, because the lighting inside of the locker room is like the lighting in a train station. Dimmer than the dreams of Frank seeing again. Still he knows where Gerard is just from the scent and the sound of his footsteps coming closer.

Gerard is glad Frank can't see right now so he won't see the tears in his eyes. Also the shame at being a horrible protector. He's not supposed to let anyone hurt Frank, but how can he hold true to that if he's not with him in this school. Frank's curled up and his eyes are glistening with tears. He doesn't have on his glasses and his cane is beat to shit.

The fact that Frank's eyes are focused in Gerard's direction only makes him feel even worse. As he bends down to help Frank up, Frank reaches out and starts touching him, trying to position him out, and then kind of leaps into his arms, almost knocking him over. Gerard holds Frank tightly and sighs into his hair.

"I'm sorry Frankie," Gerard whispers to him sweetly. He stands up and sits on the bench right next to them with Frank curled up in his lap. "Could you guys find his glasses and get his cane and clothes?"

"Of course," Brendon answers and they start searching for what they can't see.

Frank's still in his gym clothes because he knows for a fact that Blake threw his gym bag somewhere high in the room so he couldn't get it. He was even asshole enough to narrate it for Frank. He figures now is a good time to tell Gerard that.

"My c-c-clothes are high up, somewhere I can’t reach."

"Good thing Mikey and Brendon have abnormally long arms."

Frank can't help but chuckle and then he jumps at the loud thump he hears.

"Sorry. It's just your bag falling. Do you have a body in here?" Mikey jokes.

"I think that's a bag of toes," Brendon adds another joke.

"Knowing how much Frank hates everyone I wouldn't put it past him," Gerard joins in and Frank chuckles again against his chest. "Did you guys get his glasses?"

"I hid those myself. The last thing I needed was for him to break them. They're behind the set of lockers near the gym door."

Mikey nods unknowing to Frank and goes over to said lockers. He reaches his arm behind and grabs the glasses. He pulls them out and stands up. He takes them over to Gerard.

"Here you go."

"Thanks bro. You guys can go now."

"Yeah, see you at home. See you tomorrow, Frank."

"Bye guys and thank you."

"Anytime,” Mikey calls, and with that they're out of the locker room.

"How did you get in here?" Frank asks as he buries his face back into Gerard's chest.

"They snuck me in. I had a bad feeling that you weren't taking long on purpose today."

"You were right," Frank sighs and sits up. He can’t even remember the last time he loitered in the locker room to avoid Gerard. That seems like a million years ago. How did he ever manage to deny it to himself that he likes the guy? Frank will never know.

"Can you please just help me get dressed and take me home so you can lay with me?" Frank looks up at Gerard. Gerard smiles down at him, and Frank knows he's smiling, because as nasty as it sounds Frank can hear the stretch of Gerard's lips thanks to his spit. Gerard looks into Frank's eyes a little longer before putting his glasses on his face for him.

"Sure thing, Frankie," Gerard kisses Frank softly before he sits Frank down and starts taking his clothes from his bag.

“How do I know you’re not here just to see me undressing?” Frank sniffs, as Gerard hands him his shirt.

“I’ll turn my back,” Gerard says, and Frank is tempted to tell him that he doesn’t have to, but he decides against it. He’s not that good at flirting anyway.

“Where would I be without you,” Frank smiles, grabbing the shirt that Gerard hands him and pulling his gym shirt over his head.

“Probably not in this mess with that asshole,” Gerard replies, handing Frank his jeans next over his shoulder. If he really cared he could just sneak a peek in one of the mirrors along the side of the wall, but it’s really not his place. If Frank doesn’t want him to be looking, Gerard respects that and won’t look.

“He’d hate me either way Gerard. I’m not angry at you.”

“I’m angry at me,” Gerard says.

“Gee,” Frank says solemnly, “if I didn’t have the best boyfriend in the world, he would make fun of me and torment me anyway. At least now I get the satisfaction of knowing that someone cute as fuck likes me.”

“But if I weren’t here-”

“I wouldn’t have anyone to talk to and feel safe with,” Frank says, finishing off his outfit but pulling on his shoes. He clears his throat, and waits for Gerard to turn around to tie them like he usually does. They’ve come up with a system. Gerard doesn’t even need to hear Frank say something before he’s already on the case. Frank’s painfully in love with him.

Gerard sighs, leaning down to grab the laces of the shoes in his hands, “I suppose there’s nothing I can do, is there? I mean, fuck I’d tell you to get away from me for your sake, but I don’t think that’d make Blake ease up on you any, and I’m really fucking selfish and I don’t want to let you go.”

“That’s not selfish,” Frank assures.

“It really is. I just, I like you so much, I don’t think I could let you go, even if it were for the better. I’m just too in love with the way you make me feel. You know?”

It’s nearly twenty minutes later when Frank finally gives Gerard an actual answer to what he’d said. It’s after they get in the car, and after Gerard sings along to some shitty radio song, and after Frank’s pulled off the shoes that Gerard tied for him, and it’s right about when he collapses onto his bed with Gerard in his wake that he finally figures out how to word his thoughts.

Gerard’s chest is pressed against Frank’s back, the way that he likes it the best. His arms are draped over Frank and Gerard’s head in the nook between his shoulders. It’s blissful. It’s all he wants in life. Just to be here, warm and safe, in Gerard’s arms.

“I don’t think I could ever let this go either. I thought, I’ve thought and I still may think that I can, but I think I’ve come to a place where I realize that I can’t. Gee, this isn’t even about you and me anymore, it’s about the importance that we don’t let people who don’t believe in us win. I don’t want to let them win. I don’t want to let the hate that people have for me and you, for the fact that we’re dudes and I’m blind and you’re a gigantic dork, I don’t want to let the people who want us apart to get that sense of satisfaction. We’re better than that. You and I.”

“I know we are. We’re both fantastic. We’re a fucking hot couple. We’re the hottest couple around,” Gerard says.

“I wish I could agree,” Frank shrugs, “but I mean, we are at least the best couple around anyway. Mostly because of me, but you’re okay too.”

Gerard sticks his tongue out at Frank, somehow knowing that Frank will know it’s there even when he can’t see it. He can almost kind of read Frank’s mind most of the time. It’s not that Frank is transparent, it’s just that Gerard has memorized everything there is to know. He’s never fallen so hard or so fast for anyone, not even kind of, but this is Frank. He’s not like anyone else. He’s not like a single boy Gerard’s ever liked or dated. He’s Frank. He’s special beyond words.

Frank purses his lips, and says, “It means a lot to me that you’re still here. It means a lot to me that you still are in my life. That you care. No one’s ever cared about me that didn’t have an obligation to. I can name on one hand the people who do care even then. My mom, my grandparents, my weird aunt. That’s it.”

“A lot of people care about you, Frankie,” Gerard says. Frank turns around a little in Gerard’s arms to get a look at the blurry dot of his head, but it’s not there. He can’t see even that much. He knows that Gerard’s looking at him, looking directly at him, but he can’t see him.

“Really, that’s not true. I’m not saying that to be snotty, or to be rude, but a lot of people don’t care. Very few. You do. You could never know how much that means to me. That you care. It’s all I want. It’s all that matters now.”

“Frank, if there was ever a doubt in your mind that I didn’t care about you, than you’re not as smart as I thought you were.”

“No, but it’s just that, everyone seems to be fighting against us, you know? Like, the government, bullies, hate, that fucking dick Blake, and everything, and I know thatthe people who matter don’t think that. I know that my mom doesn’t, and neither does Mikey and I know those other guys aren’t against us, it’s just that... it’s always going to be louder. You know? Hate, it’ll always be louder. It always has been. It always will be. Hate fucking sucks, and I know it’s not outmatched, but, like I still feel it. I still get it all the time, and I have to remember why I’m still fighting it, fighting for the fact that I’m allowed to be fucking happy for once in my life, and sometimes it’s hard to remember. But then I remember you, and it’s like, maybe I am stronger than I think.”

“I think the thing that you need to differentiate between is the fact that being sensitive and being strong are too very different things. You can be both, because they are not exclusively mutual. Frank, you are very strong. I don’t know if I could wake up every day with the positive outlook that you have, because, sure you’re cynical, but I love that about you. That’s my favorite thing that there is about you, probably. Your cynicism is what keeps me breathing, and you have no idea how strong you are for making everyone around you happy just by being alive. I barely survived high school. I barely lived through the torment. I mean, hell, I was the fat gay kid who liked to draw, no one liked me, no one wanted to talk to me, I had maybe two friends, and all that time I let people’s words get to me. You can’t imagine how mortally terrified I was for Mikey. I didn’t want him to inherit what I got. I didn’t want him to be the weirdos younger brother, and I was fucking mortified that he would end up being just that.”

“That didn’t happen. He’s still, well, he’s still Mikey, and he’s still a complete idiot, but he’s not like, there’s no legacy in him of what you got, which by the way, if you give me the addresses of the people who did that, I can poke out their eyes with my cane. Put some of this town on an even playing field with me.”

“I wouldn’t let you do that,” Gerard says, and Frank can hear the laugh in his voice. He’s pretty sure he’s in love with Gerard’s voice. He loves the way that he forms sentences, like he never really puts what he says through a filter, he just sort of says it and doesn’t think about what he’s saying beforehand and it ends up being either a load of complete gibberish or right out of Shakespeare’s mouth. And the way that Frank can practically hear his gestures. He always knows when Gerard’s trying to demonstrate a story with his hands, Frank’s pretty sure Gerard doesn’t even know himself that he does it. He’d probably apologize profusely if he realized that he’s been doing that while Frank can’t see it all this time, but he fucking loves it. He loves that Gerard is unabashedly himself.

Frank isn’t always that free with everything. He doesn’t get to be himself as much as he’d like to. He doesn’t get to be ostentatious and fill a room with his presence, because no one really wants to hear from the blind guy. Frank’s always known that what he is, what his disability means for him is that he is lesser. He’s not, not actually, but people view him in such a way. If he could see that, it’d kill him, the way that everyone looks down on him, but in some cases, the blindness is almost a gift. He doesn’t have the weight of having to see how evil people are. Somehow, only being able to hear about the heinous things people have done is better than having to actually see it. And also he doesn’t ever have to see pictures of botched plastic surgeries and if that’s not a blessing than he doesn’t know what is.

“But still, Gerard, I, I think you mean more to me than you think you do,” Frank says.

“I think you have that backwards.”

“Well maybe,” Frank says, “maybe it’s the same for you and me, but it’s not like I see stars in your eyes or anything. Obviously that’s not the case, I can’t fucking see. It’s not like when you say things or hold me I have the meaning of life or anything, it’s just that, you make me feel safe. You make me feel comfortable, and warm, and at home. I think that’s all I could ever ask for. I can talk to you. That’s something I’ve never had.”

“Oh come on, you’ve had plenty of people to talk to,” Gerard says, and Frank shakes his head, because obviously Gerard doesn’t get his meaning.

“No, I mean, I can talk to you. Like for real. You’re the only person, the only person, who I can talk to. I can talk to my mom, sure, or Brendon, or Pete, or Patrick, or Mikey, or that nice office secretary at school, but I can’t, talk to them for real. With you I can. I don’t feel scared of saying things to you, of being honest to you. Like, I’ve never flirted with anyone Gerard.”

“Oh really?” Gerard snorts and Frank elbows him in the ribs, before he laughs even harder and Frank feels Gerard’s head fall onto his shoulder, and he can feel him laughing to. And maybe he smiles a little to himself, but Gerard doesn’t need to know that.

“No, I mean, you’re an asshole, but before you I couldn’t have been that comfortable with myself to have done that.”

“What the hell do you think flirting is anyway?” Gerard says.

“You’re an ass.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. You’re cute.”

“I know I am,” Frank pouts, and he can feel Gerard staring at him and he really wishes he knew how Gerard looks at him. There’s two things he wants more than anything, and that’s the ability to see what Gerard looks like, and the ability to know how he looks at Frank. Does he look at Frank like he’s the most beautiful pizza or like his mom used to when he remembered to say please and thank you as a kid, or does Gerard look at him like he’s a gigantic stack of cash, or is Frank exaggerating the way that those things looked? If he could see him, he’d probably look at Gerard like he’s the most beautiful person in the world, but he doesn’t really need eyes to know that. Gerard is fucking gorgeous, blindness or no blindness, the dude could stop a train in its tracks.

“Frank, I’m, fuck, I’m an adult. I’m old.”

“You’re 21.”

“I’m so old!” Gerard groans, and Frank would pay obscene amounts of money just to roll his eyes once, just this fucking once. He would pay a fortune for it.

“You’re barely even an adult, shut up,” Frank replies.

“Whatever. The point is that I am an old old old, aging man. I’m supposed to be full of wisdom. I am not supposed to be in love with a guy who’d never heard of Daredevil before.”

“You’re still hanging that over me?”

“Daredevil, Frank. Fucking Daredevil. He’s one of the best superheroes there is. He’s so fucking cool, he’s, like a staple of Marvel.”

“He really isn’t,” Frank shakes his head, favoring more iconic superheroes, like The Incredible Hulk, or Wolverine, or Spiderman at least, but Daredevil? He’s cool and all, and he likes hearing Gerard reading about him, but it’s not like he’s Batman, but then again, Frank is biased.

“But still, like I’m not supposed to be this head over heels, or anything, because I’m too old for that. I’m too old to be wanting to run away with you and to think that I’m going to love you forever, because, really, you don’t make those decisions after only a few months. I’m not saying I’m wrong, it’s just so cliché. Fuck, every chick flick ever, they fall in love over the course of like four days and I don’t buy it. I mean, no one buys that. No one actually believes they’re going to be together in the end, but at the same time, we’re all romantics and we like to believe that maybe they do stay together. But I’m old, I’m supposed to see past that. But I look at you and I see the guy who I want to come home to and talk to. I think that’s what people neglect to notice about relationships is that, mainly, it’s about finding someone who you’re never going to get tired of listening to.”

“Probably a good thing you’ve got me under your spell then, because you talk way too fucking much.”

“I... can’t argue that,” Gerard says. “Fuck, we’re such idiots. Fools in love.”

“But we’re cute fools in love.”

“You say that, and you literally have no idea how right you are about you’re cuteness.”

Frank makes a face, “I believe it’s actually cuteitude.”

Frank thinks, every single fucking time, that he’s going to eventually get used to hearing Gerard laugh like that, giggle like a little girl, and he’s proven wrong every time. Every single time. Whenever he hears that little laugh, it’s like someone is injecting him with life. He literally feels alive hearing that stupid redhead laugh.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Frank shakes his head.

“Is that a good thing?”

“It’s the best thing, are you kidding me? You’re such an idiot, I love it.”

“I love you, dumbass,” Gerard says and Frank smiles, because he doesn’t know how not to. It’s like when someone tickles you. You can’t help yourself from laughing. He literally can’t prevent the smile any more than he can prevent himself from pumping blood.

“Me too,” Frank says, “I mean, that I love myself as well, I wasn’t saying it back.”

“Shut up, you little fucker,” Gerard says before he’s leaning over, and that’s another thing he’s never going to get used to. Frank’s always on the edge of his feet. And it’s not like kissing Gerard gives him this overwhelming sensation of oneness with the universe or some shit, it’s just that it makes him feel giddy. It makes his heart stutter a little bit, and his skin prickle in all the right ways. It’s just good, and perfect, and he never wants to kiss anyone else. Never wants to have anyone else ever erase him kissing Gerard either. He wants everyone in the entire world to know whose Gerard is.

“You know, I seriously would run Blake over with my car if you asked me to,” Gerard says.

Frank smirks, and shakes his head, “I’d probably say yes if it didn’t imply that our relationship would have to take place on either side of a prison.”

“I guess that does sort of drive a stake in things, doesn’t it? That’s a shame. Damn laws,” Gerard replies, and frowns, “but fuck that guy. Like seriously, I so wanted to punch him in the face, but there’s less satisfaction in giving him a huge shiner if you can’t see it. But kicking him in the balls might do it. Might take his voice up a few octaves.”

“You’re a rather violent problem solver.”

“Some problems necessitate the use of violence. Dickheads being shitty to my boyfriend are a prime example of this.”

“You’re, ugh, I don’t know why I like you,” Frank says smiling and he can hear Gerard humph, and it makes him grin even wider, because that will never not be cute.

“It’s because I have a great sense of humor, and I am the best person to talk to, and I am a bitchin’ hugger.”

“One of those things is true,” Frank says.

“Which one?”

“You’ll never know,” Frank replies.

“Option D then,” Gerard says, “all of the above.”

“Not really what I was imagining Option D to be, if I’m being honest,” Frank says.

“Well that’s because you’re a teenager with a dirty dirty mind.”

“Maybe your mind is just too clean.”

“It sure as hell is not clean, I’ll have you know, I’m just not vocal about it, that’s all,” Gerard says.

“You’re so infuriating,” Frank groans, “I mean seriously. At every turn, you are literally incapable of not being adorable. It’s kind of annoying. You’re actually perfect. Like actually.”

“I’m not perfect, I’m messy, and I have clammy hands, and oddly shaped toes, and I used to be somewhat addicted to trashy daytime talk shows. You on the other hand-”

“Definitely not perfect. I can’t even see.”

“You’re perfect whatever way you are,” Gerard says, “blind or not blind, you’re perfect. And you have excellent taste in guys.”

Frank chuckles, and he buries his head further into Gerard when he hears the sound of the front door, telling him that his moms home. She may not take to kindly to what Blake did, but honestly Frank’s not entirely sure if he looks like he got attacked or not. He knows he’s got a bitch of an ache in his side where he’s probably going to have a nasty bruise, but he should be able to hide that from her. Hopefully that’s all there is.

“Just in case you were wondering, you are worth it,” Frank says.

“Worth what?”

“Blake. He said something about me thinking I’m better now that I have a boyfriend, and you are worth it. You will always be worth it.”

“The more I hear about that kid the more I want to... cut off his toes,” Gerard says, after hesitating. Frank’s never going to get a moment of peace where he doesn’t fall even more in love with Gerard, and maybe that’s okay. He kind of likes it that way actually. He misses Gerard when they’re in the same room, and he could live off of a relationship of cuddling the fuck out of him for the rest of his life, and that’s okay. He thinks he’s content with that.

Frank is so unbelievably glad this loser chatted him up in that stupid mall cafeteria. He’s so glad that all of this has happened, as reluctant and scared of it as he may have been. He hates that it didn’t happen sooner. He’s almost grateful that all the things that had to happen to lead him to Gerard did happen. He wouldn’t have met Gerard if he’d never become blind. Maybe that’s okay. Maybe the guy is right and he is going to see someday. Frank’s not sure if that matters. He wants to see, but he’s used to this. It’s not as hard as it used to be. He’s still scared of the future, but the future is a little nicer sounding if Gerard’s going to be in it.

“I knew it,” Frank says, “I really fucking couldn’t give this up. Not for anything, not because of anyone. This is just too special.”