Buried Myself Alive

*Gerard’s POV*

I couldn’t let him know I was crying. I had to be strong for him at the moment. I watched his eyes shut and listened to his breath return to normal before it became deep and even. How could he have such a fucked up life? How could his father ever do that to him, his own son? I felt my stomach churn in disgust from hearing Frank’s memory of his dad watching some shit porn video.

Frank was so much more off then me and I hated it. The only love and caring he ever felt was from his Mom, and she was gone. How could he think she wanted to leave him? Did his Dad really make him that messed up? I closed my eyes and moved my lips to his forehead.

I pulled him close to me and let the words flow through my lips. Everything wasn’t perfect, for us things would never be perfect, but that’s what made them perfect.

My heart was sore, it felt weak and beaten. He blamed himself. He has blamed himself since he was freaking seven. I felt so much anger toward that bastard, if I ever got the chance to-

Frank pressed himself against me more. All the anger dissipated and I melted into him. It seemed like a dream. I was able to brave the pain for him, but I don’t know how I did it. How could he make me this strong, this confident? A part of me knew, my heart knew. My mind wouldn’t listen to it, I wasn’t willing to believe it. At least not after all this time..

He was such a strange person. His emotions rocketed back and forth, he sometimes mistook what I would try to tell him. He was a fainter. That was obvious. I can’t believe I made him faint. That’s so movie cliché. It was adorable though. I felt a smile play onto my lips. He was adorable. I began to replay old fairy tales in my head, they were all perfect. Too perfect, not real. Pain is what makes love real, it’s what makes life real too. Pain and struggle.

Both Frank and I had our fair share of both… So could this be our reward..? Could this he be my light at the end of the tunnel? I let my fingers sweep over his face, moving his hair back. I knew this had to look sickly sweet, but if you looked at us the sickness died. My clothes probably made me look homeless, which I was pretty close to already. We were two guys, that made people hate us without even knowing of the pain and abuse in both our lives. They don’t care to ask, the just see. They hate what they see.

Frank scrunched his nose, making him look a little like a rabbit. Then he smiled lightly. He was dreaming.. I kissed his forehead. Lucky him. I wonder if his mother would approve of me? I doubt it. I was shit, I didn’t deserve Frankie. It made me feel like a kid, wanting something I can’t get. Yet a part of me knew I already had him, but it made me feel like I stole him.

I doubt I’ll ever know why he wants me like he does. I knew we had that connection though, we didn’t have to worry about the pain as much with each other. We both felt the pain.. Though, even I knew his was worse. Maybe I’ll be able to make it better for him.. Maybe I can heal at least a little part of his heart.

That thought gave me hope. Frank moved up so his face was snuggled against my neck. I felt his breath blow against my skin. I felt my stomach flop and my heart stick itself in my throat. My eyes closed without me wanting them too. He smelled so good, like a mixture of honey and.. apple?

He managed to drape an arm over my side, he began to squirm a bit too. I opened my eyes to watch his face. His little pink lips were slightly parted, and then I heard the sound I almost died to. A quiet small moan flooded though his lips. I began to chew on my lip.

“Frankie?” I whispered. He responded in his sleep by pressing against me even more and blowing out a huff of air. “Frankie?”

He pushed against me more, I had no choice but to roll onto my back instead of being on my side. I closed my eyes then opened them to stare at the ceiling. He didn’t squirm for a while and his breathing stayed deep and even.

Then he swung his right leg over both of mine. I did my best to relax, to hold back the feelings that were surfacing. Frank wasn’t helping at all. He pressed his face against my shoulder and let out a deep groan.

What I would give to know what he’s dreaming about…