Blush.

For the second time, I woke up to the sound of my name being called out to me.
I moaned and tried to roll over, but found that I couldn’t because Frank’s arms were wrapped so securely around my waist.

I settled for just turning my head. Quinn was leaning into the room, his hands gripping the side of the doorframe.

“Mmmmm?” I replied sluggishly, my voice still thick with sleep. Quinn gestured with his hand for me to get out of bed and come with him.

“I wanna talk,” he stage whispered. I nodded, struggling to release myself from Frank’s tight embrace. Once I had finally managed to escape from his grasp I edged out of the bed, careful not to wake him but I needn’t have worried; he’s a pretty heavy sleeper.

I stumbled across the room to where Quinn was waiting, he ushered me out of my room and closed the door silently behind me. I thanked him and then followed him to the kitchen where he sat on one of the tatty chairs at the table.

“So what’s up?” I asked groggily, taking a seat across from him. I was worried that he was still ill but that seemed to be the furthest thing from his mind at the moment.

“You and Frank. What’s going on with you two?” he asked, getting straight to the point, his eyes on mine. I was confused at first, unable to grasp the meaning of his words. But it dawned on me when he raised an eyebrow through his definite frown.

“Oh,” I laughed, “Nothing. Why?”

Quinn just stared at me like I was a moron. He looked about ready to slap me upside the head, but that was usually my job for either him or Frank. Suddenly I felt like a little kid being chastised by an older sibling.

“Are you blind, oblivious or both?” he asked, dumbfounded. He was shaking my head at me like I was missing something really important, which got me confused all over again.

“What are you talking about?” I cried, throwing my arms in the air, not seeing the point of the conversation. Quinn shook his head at me.

“He. Likes. You,” he explained slowly, emphasising each word like I was a toddler. It was my turn to look at him like he was a moron with a condescending smile. The poor guy. He’d deluded himself into thinking that Frank had a crush on me. But Quinn’s face remained completely straight and serious. My smile faltered when his expression didn’t.

Fuck, he was serious. I stopped looking at him like he was stupid and I blushed crimson. Frank liked me? Why have I gone all gooey inside?! Quinn, seeing me blush, shook his head and starting murmuring under his breath.

“No, no, no, NO!” On the last one he thumped his hands down on the table and shoved his chair backwards with a crash loud enough to wake up the whole building. He was standing, his fists still on the table, glaring across at me. I cowered under his gaze, confused but too scared to do anything to relieve the confusion.

“You like him back, don’t you?” Quinn hissed through gritted teeth, a very steely edge to his voice. I let out a squeak and shook my head frantically. Quinn’s eyes narrowed.

“You’re lying, Gerard,” he stated, the steely edge still present. I began to speak but Quinn’s attention was taken away from me because Frank walked into the room. Quinn turned to Frank, fixing him with a glare that was intensified greatly.

“What’s wrong with him?” Frank squeaked at me, jabbing his thumb in Quinn’s direction. I didn’t answer him, maybe because I didn’t want too or maybe because I couldn’t. I’d never seen Quinn like this and it scared the shit out of me.

“You,” Quinn hissed, pointing a single finger at Frank accusingly.

“What did I do?” Frank asked, his voice still squeaking profusely. Quinn was shaking with anger, the table was wobbling slightly under his one handed grasp on it and his, still, bright orange hair was unsteady on his head.

“You like him don’t you? You like Gerard! No. Wait, I reckon ‘like’ would be putting it too mildly. You love him don’t you?” he spat viciously. Frank still immobilised with fear, relaxed tensely. How the hell can someone do that? Relax tensely, I mean? But more to the point, how could he relax when Quinn was like this?!

“Awwww, Quinnie,” Frank chuckled, “Yes, I do. How could you not notice? Gerard and I’ve been going behind you’re back this whole time, too violently scared to declare our love for one another. It was horrible that we couldn’t let you know til now!” Frank finished off in mock hysterics.

Quinn fumed, while I stared at Frank in shock. Frank’s expression quickly became patronizing.

“Get a life,” he stated, jeering at Quinn and then he walked out of the kitchen and down the hall to the bathroom. I turned back to Quinn who was still shaking with anger. While Quinn had been occupied with Frank it had allowed me to think a little.

“Even if I did like Frank that way – which I don’t! – why would it matter so much?” I asked tentatively. I didn’t know how to react to Quinn’s outburst. I mean, I knew Frank, Quinn and I were the most fucked up, dysfunctional ‘family’ there is, but lately we’ve all been more fucked up than usual.

What the fuck is happening?!

Ever since I’d seen Frank jacking off everything in the house had gone hay-wire! I don’t know what to think anymore.

“It…it just would, okay? He’s hurt you enough already and when he hurts you again it’ll kill you inside.” Quinn was still glaring at me but his voice was gentle. I didn’t quite believe the shit that was coming out of his mouth. He was lying to me and he knew I knew that.

“I’m a big boy, Quinn. I can look after myself,” I whispered, a little hurt from his lying not to mention his outrageous and irrational outburst. It wasn’t like him anyway. It was like someone had kidnapped him and replaced him with a weird, deceitful, angry look-a-like.

And I didn’t like it.

I stalked from the room, leaving Quinn to, hopefully, think over what he’d just done and said. I hope the little fucker feels guilty about it. He had no right to go off like that. So what if I liked Frank as more than a friend. So what if Frank possibly liked me in more than a friend way. It was none of his fucking business.

I was being a little unfair, I know, but I was pissed off.

When I passed the bathroom, I heard sobbing. It was Frank. I didn’t even bother to knock and try to calm him. I wasn’t even curious, at the time, to see why he was crying. I just didn’t care.

It was still a little early, for me anyway, but I got dressed in my room as quickly as I could, grabbing my jacket on the way out. I strode down the hall, passing Quinn in the kitchen who looked up when I passed, and straight out the door. Once outside, in the cool crisp air, I shivered thinking that maybe staying inside wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

But remembering what happened just pressed me on. I walked fast through the empty streets going wherever my legs would take me. I didn’t care. I was pissed. I almost wanted to go home. I almost wished I had never left home. Almost, but not quite.

Everything was so fucked up. I groaned at the thought.

I would deal with it when I got back. But for now, I had a purpose; I was going to see James at the art store.