To Hear The Soft Voice

i.

Frank gazes out at the endless sea, hands on his hips and his eyebrows furrowed. He was mumbling to himself, incoherent thoughts as singing was heard in the distance, light and lulling with short breaks of humming.

Small waves lap at his feet and he continues to listen, a small fleeting smile skipping across his lips before turning around and facing the forest of palm trees and cocoa plants. There was a path right in front of him, weaving through the thick greenery - moss and small ferns covering the ground. Frank bites at the inside of his cheek, hand raising to rub against the back of his neck as he slowly starts to trudge forward.

ii.

When he finally spots a clearing in the woods he lets his mouth gape open. Trees and vines and other shrubbery forming almost perfect archways, butterflies and bluebirds fluttering around salvia, a woman dressed in an off-white tunic picking red grapes off of the vine.

Frank clears his throat and shuffles his feet against the cobblestone walkway. The woman turns and smiles, bright blue eyes turning brighter as long strawberry blonde hair is tossed over her shoulder. “Francis?” she asks, he nods. She settles the basket she was holding on the ground, wiping her hands off quickly before turning to look at Frank again, “He’s been waiting for you,” a quick smile and then she’s grabbing at his wrist and pulling him behind her. “He’ll be glad you’ve finally come.”

“Who?” Frank asks.

She doesn’t answer.

iii.

The singing is more clear now, a perfect pitch matched with perfect pronunciation. His ears perk a little and there’s a little humming going on inside of his head with every step he takes. The woman is still pulling him by his wrist, hurry in her step, glancing back every few minutes to make sure Frank, or Francis, isn’t going to run away. “Almost there,” she tells him with a wild smile.

Not so far away, he can see the structure of an expensive home. A home made of limestone with marble steps and high ceilings. “Oh,” is what he says when they drop down to the speed of a walk.

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” and then his feet are padding against the marble stairs as he climbs them slowly, guards eyeing him with every stair that he walks. “This is Francis,” the woman calls to them. The two guards nod simultaneously and step apart before motioning him inside.

Frank allows his eyes to wander, paintings of cherubs and sea nymphs adorning the walls, statues of Zeus and Athena decorating the main entry way. “Oh,” he says again. The woman just grins back and lets him seek. His fingers run across the rich cotton curtains and collects the dust from a window sill on his index finger. He grins a little to himself and pulls at the piece of cloth covering his body.

“Not used to such things?” Frank shakes his head. She chuckles lightly, tells him, “This way,” and leads him down a wide-set hallway. Frank can hear the change in the singing, dropping low and calm, maybe even a little knowing as they walk.

Suddenly, she comes to a halt, stopping Frank with her. She grins at him one last time before stepping through an arch, Frank following behind. Inside, there is a man, pale with ink colored hair and a pure white cloth draped around his waist. He was running a netted cloth through his fingers and singing lightly with his eyes closed - the words being sung hiding his smile. “Gerard,” the woman says softly and the man slowly cracks his eyes open. He stops singing and smiles.

His eyes immediately fall onto Frank, pupils widening a little with shock - small smile still flickering. “Thank you Arista,” he says in a dismissive way. The woman, now Arista, nods her welcome and quickly leaves the room. Once her footsteps can no longer be heard against the marble, Gerard stands and skims his eyes over Frank in an adoring way.

“What am I doing here?” Frank asks.

The pale man laughs lightly, “You’ll see,” his slender fingers curling under Franks chin.

iv.

“Do you know where you are?” Gerard asks Frank later that night at dinner.

“No.”

“Good.” Frank scowls at him, continues eating in silence.

v.

Frank awakes the next morning to the sound of humming and soft cotton wrapped around his waist. “What?” he asks himself, and then he’s opening his eyes and Gerard’s right there. “Um,” leaving his mouth a little hesitantly. Gerard smiles and cocks his head to the side, and then reaches out and smoothes some of Frank’s hair from his face. Frank flinches.

“I need to speak with you,” Gerard murmurs and twirls some of Frank’s cocoa colored hair around his index finger. Frank stares with wide eyes - switching his gaze from Gerard’s face, to Gerard’s finger, back to his face. The pale mans mouth twitches and he sighs, “I’ll be expecting you very shortly,” and then he kisses Frank’s forehead lightly and stands to his feet gracefully.

Frank is still staring after him two minutes later, body flushed with awkward as he breathes in and out deeply. There are a million thoughts, and then there are none at all running through his head. In through one side and out the other, pressing his palm over his heart to try and will it to calm down. “Okay,” he says long after the footsteps have disappeared. For a while, he stares at the ceiling and runs a corner of the sheet through his fingers, waiting and waiting - for what, he has no idea.

He sighs and turns his head back towards the door, a little startled to find Arista leaning against one of the columns. “You might want to get washed,” she gestures towards the bowl that she’s holding. He tugs the sheet a little further up his body when she makes her way towards him. “He’ll be waiting for you in the garden,” she tells him lightly as she sets the bowl on the ground next to the bed. Frank nods and dismisses Arista, and then tosses his legs over the side of the bed.

Gerard starts singing in the distance.

Frank can’t help but smile a little bit.

vi.

When Frank finds his way to the garden, Gerard’s sitting against the trunk of a jacaranda tree with a small piece of cloth draped over his lap. He hums to himself and looks up at Frank, patting a spot next to him in invitation.

Frank claspa his hands together and shuffles his feet against the cobblestone’s. “Um,” he says again as he bites the inside of his cheek and walks over to stand next to Gerard. He glances down at him, and then around in general before slowly settling himself against the tree - shoulder pressed loosely against Gerard’s.

They sit for a while, Gerard secretly smiling to himself, twirling his hair and gazing at Frank a little lovingly as Frank stares ahead, almost, but not quite oblivious to the other mans actions. Then Gerard’s tapping his index finger against Frank’s thigh and scooting a little closer. “What’re you doing?” Frank asks almost immediately. Gerard shrugs and smiles, and then they’re quiet again, this time both staring at one another.

Minutes later and Gerard’s humming under his breath - lying on his stomach while tracing invisible patterns on Frank’s thigh with his index finger. Frank stares at the pale man, almost entranced, watching as goose bumps appear on his leg when Gerard traces a figure eight, listening to the low hums and allowing his body to lightly relax. He moves his gaze from Gerard’s finger, to his ink black hair, down the crevice of his back and then back up.

When their eyes meet, Gerard’s smiling. I will make you love me, he thinks.

Frank smiles back unknowingly, awkwardly.

Gerard smiles up at him, stopping the motions of his index finger. “Hello,” he says.

Frank tilts his head and brushes some hair away from the pale mans face, “Hi.”

vii.

The next morning Frank wakes up and there’s a breakfast plate set on the side table. He blinks, and then blinks again before shifting his body so his back is resting against the cherry headboard. He rubs at his eyes a little and stretches before turning to the plate that’s full of red grapes, a green apple and two ripe bananas - a glass of rose water set to the side. He smiles and crosses his legs Indian style before pulling the plate into his lap and taking a sip of the water.

He hums a little and pulls a grape from the cluster just as Arista walks into the room. She waves first, and then does a light bow before placing a freshly washed tunic at the corner of his bed before asking Frank if he would like anything else. Frank takes another sip from the water, makes another noise of approval before saying, “No, no thank you.”

She smiles at him and then picks up his discarded tunic from the foot of the bed. He watches as she does so, waiting for her to tell him what Gerard has planned for them today. Instead though, she just hums to herself and tucks the expensive sheets in.

Frank nibbles on a grape and then clears his throat, in turn getting Arista’s attention. She smiles kindly at him and stands up straight. “Does he have anything planned for today?” he asks in an almost murmur.

“No, do as you please for the next few days,” she tells him, and then does another small bow and leaves the room.

A few seconds later and Frank’s furrowing his eyebrows and gulping down the rest of the rose water.

He can still hear the singing - low and charming.

viii.

It’s a few days later, when he’s out walking in the garden, with the ripe tomatoes and growing cantaloupes, that everything settles in.

His home didn’t consist of sandy beaches with perfect archways made out of greenery and forests of palm trees and cocoa plants. His home was buried back in the woods, surrounded by oak trees and moss, owls cooing as his lover kissed at his neck. Or it was sailing with his best people in one of the seven seas, luring young females onto the ship when they would stop ashore.

Frank doesn’t remember how he got here, or what he was doing before he woke up on the beach, alone and clueless.

He turns and hurries back down the cobblestone path, towards the house made of limestone and marble.

*

Frank follows Gerard’s singing. Down the long hallways and through large, open rooms with furniture.

The low and charming singing stops when Frank's bare feet appear in his line of sight. He glances up, dark eyebrows knitting together as he sees Franks contorted face. “What am I doing here?” the smaller man asks while crossing his arms and setting his mouth in a thin line. At this, Gerard grins and stands. Frank's eyes go wide.

The pale man stands in front of Frank and smoothes the back of his palm over the other’s left cheek, causing him to flinch and pull back. Gerard chuckles lightly and takes Frank’s chin between his thumb and index finger, “I promise, you will see,” and then he’s pressing his lips lightly against the smaller mans, soundlessly.

Frank pulls away and smacks Gerard almost immediately.

Gerard just grins.

ix.

Frank ignores Gerard for days, ignores the sweet, luring sound of his voice. He doesn’t talk to Arista, and ignores the quiet greetings of the guards. He spends the majority of his time in the garden, picking the ripe fruits and vegetables.

He decides that he misses home, wherever that is.

x.

When Frank finally does run into Gerard, his vision immediately flashes red, and Gerard grins at him again. At a certain point, Frank wants to punch him and slap him - kick him until he spits blood. That is until the pale man starts singing, low and light with a silky sweet voice that makes Frank melt and fall under a daze.

“I have an offer,” Gerard says, his body almost pressed flush against Frank’s. Frank stares at him with large, wide, hazel eyes. “An offer that is grand,” voice dropped down to a whisper. “I can offer you immortality,” his breath warm and cold against Frank’s ear as the shorter mans breath hitches a little in his throat, “if,” a pause, “if you will love me.” Franks breath catches in his throat again.

“I,” Frank opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again, “I don’t know.”

Gerard pulls away, face scrunched up to something that isn’t him. “Try,” he whispers harshly as both hands clasp to the sides of Franks face, “Please. Please, just try,” and with that he walks away.

Frank is stood in the center of the corridor, body almost lax as he watches Gerard walk. “Can I go home if I can’t?”

He can see Gerard’s body stiffen slightly, but he can also see Gerard shrug his shoulders and shake his head.

There’s a deep feeling in his gut as he turns and walks back to his room.

xi.

The next time Frank sees Gerard, it’s on the beach. Gerard’s standing towards the water, the ocean breeze playing with the small cloth that’s draped around his waist. Frank thinks that is the only time that he’s ever found another male attractive.

“Hello,” Gerard says before he even turns around and smiles at Frank.

“Hello,” Frank says back, and then takes a few more steps towards the pale man. They stand next to each other for what feels to be an eternity, the occasional tide of the ocean crashing against their toes as white sand flecks across their skin.

Gerard starts singing, seductive and deep down in his chest. Frank grabs a hold of his wrist and steps closer, “I can try,” he whispers against Gerard's neck, “I can try.” Gerard turns and stares at Frank, hope and pleading written all over his sharp features. “I can,” he says it as a promise and tangles his fingers into the hair at the nape of Gerard’s neck.

“Okay,” the pale man whispers, “okay.”

Their lips meet.