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Tales of Endurance -Chapter 12

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Chapter Twelve.


Gerard always felt sleepy in the younger boy’s presence. Whether it was the pressing up against him or the serene sound of his voice as it rolled off his tongue, he didn’t know. But he guessed it had something to do with trust and the relaxation that accompanied it. Frank, smiling contentedly, had barely moved since they last talked. Despite the uncomfortable position that they were sat in, he refused to move and kept up his firm grip on his friend’s arm. Gerard was equally as happy to just be in the other’s company, uninterrupted and quiet, just how he liked it.

Minutes had passed since either of them had spoken and finally, Frank reclaimed his arms and settled them back in his lap.

“Um, do you still have a bed in your old room?” the younger boy asked uncertainly.

“I think so. There’s some storage boxes and things in there too though,” Gerard replied, casting his mind back a year to when he had moved out.

Frank nodded and clambered to his feet, startling Gerard with his sudden movement.

The older boy stayed still as he watched his friend’s back disappear into his bedroom, only to return a few moments later carrying his bed cover under his arm and a pillow under the other.

“Let’s go see your new room then,” Frank suggested.

Gerard smiled at how the size of the bed covers seemed to be swallowing the kid whole. “You want a hand with that?” he asked as they began ascending the stairs.

“I got it,” Frank insisted, but handed him the pillow instead.

On the way up, Frank’s stubbornness caught up with him, and he tripped on one of the steps. He yelped in surprise as he landed on top of the duvet. “Ugh, let’s just sleep here,” he suggested, lying back and sprawling his limbs out over the steps, “Yeah, this is comfy,” he mused happily.

Gerard couldn’t help but laugh; he loved moments like this, when Frank was able to completely be himself. He held out a hand to the younger boy and helped him up, pulling the cover up with them.

“I might be better with the pillow,” Frank sighed.

Gerard’s old room was almost exactly as he’d left it. When he opened the door, the stale aroma of an enclosed space filled the air and he sighed at the memories that flooded his mind from inside the four walls. It seemed dingy and unloved now; abandoned. His bed lay untouched on the far wall and remained the only piece of furniture in the room, and just as he’d thought, storage boxes lay strewn across the carpeted floor. Gerard hoped that his mother wouldn’t mind him moving back into his old room; he guessed it would be okay, but he was still nervous about it given what had happened in the week.

He slumped down onto the end of his bed and let the duvet fall to his feet. It felt strange to be back in his old room again; it was like visiting an old friend whose friendship ended in an argument and a falling out. He rested his head against the wall and watched Frank as he stood in the doorway. The younger boy was gazing around the room, taking in every crevice and hue, storing it away in his mind. Frank’s gaze eventually settled on the older boy and his sleepy posture against the wall.

“D’you still want to do this?” Frank asked, concerned that his friend might have changed his mind.

Gerard simply nodded.

“I’m proud of you,” Frank said unexpectedly, “For trying this, I mean. I wouldn’t have the guts.”

“Sure you would.”

The younger boy smiled at his response and walked towards him slowly, “You think I could? Like, that maybe I could move on from…what happened?”

Gerard nodded again and hesitantly twisted his fingers together.

“You just…” Frank trailed off and let his fingers drift towards the soft jaw of his friend. He couldn’t help it; he wanted to touch, to feel a connection so desperately that his body reacted on his behalf. He let his hand slip down to his neck and caress at sensitive skin, unknowing that it sent little shocks and fervent shivers down the older boy’s back. Gerard closed his eyes and allowed the warmth to spread throughout his body.

“Something’s bothering you,” the younger boy stated, falling beside him on the bed.

“It’s nothing,” Gerard answered, pressing his face harder against the wall and shaking his head lightly.

“But, we promised not to keep secrets. I know something’s wrong. You get this look…like, you’d rather be somewhere else.”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Gerard promised, gazing over at the younger boy, “I’m just…I’m still confused about things that would make you uncomfortable to talk about, and I don’t want you to be.”

“Is this about, um, before? With, um, you know…” Frank winced at his own inability to express himself. There was so much he wanted to tell Gerard. So much and he couldn’t do it.

Gerard desperately wanted to backtrack on everything that had happened that day, but mostly, he wished that he hadn’t suggested they focus on being friends; it just made other feelings more noticeable.

“Everything revolves around this one thing,” he began hesitantly, “and it’s like this massive thing that would change everything. And like, you get quiet sometimes…when we’re sort of talking about it. I’ve never…I’ve not done this before, and I don’t know how people talk about this stuff…or if they even talk about it. Sometimes I feel like I’m imagining it, that my mind’s just making it up, that maybe I’m too desperate for something to happen. But then sometimes, like now, it’s like maybe I’m not imagining it, that maybe if things were different…”

Gerard scrunched his eyes up and began drawing invisible pictures on the wall. He knew that he didn’t make sense, and he was sure that he was just confusing the kid further.

“Don’t,” Frank whispered, as he watched his friend’s finger trace the wall, “I don’t want you to want something I can’t give you. I know you think you’re unlovable, but you’re not. I’m just not the right person to give you what you need.”

Gerard felt his chest split in two, tugging at his insides as the words sunk in. ‘You are.’ he silently thought. He continued to run his finger down the wall however, trying to pretend that it really didn’t matter to him. But the truth was, he wanted Frank more than he’d ever wanted or needed anything, and there were things he wanted to say to him, to do to him, that his mind had never even dreamt about until this point.

“I can pretend, if that’s what you want,” Gerard said sadly, turning his attention back to the kid, “I’ve been like this for so long that I can’t remember what it’s like to be happy anyway…”

He stood up quickly and stepped over the duvet still crumpled on the floor. It was moments like this that he needed the comfort of his room, of his safe place, but now he was stuck in a place that he didn’t feel comfortable in at all.

Gerard thought that maybe one day everything would boil over; everything that went unsaid between them would spill out and they’d collide in a way they’d least expected, but in a way that overwhelmed and grasped a hold of their souls.

But for the moment, Frank didn’t answer his previous question, he didn’t know how. Instead, he watched his friend’s feet as they walked across the room and came to a stop by the storage boxes.

“I think some of these might be mine,” Gerard said, swallowing the lump that was occupying his throat. He crouched down and began flipping open the nearest cardboard lids, not paying much attention to the contents.

It was at that precise second that something triggered inside Frank, something which made him mad at his past experiences; he blamed Will for everything, but mostly for getting Gerard upset. He furrowed his brows, feeling angry that he’d let himself dwell on that one event for so long, allowed it to consume his life and affect people like it was affecting his friend now.

He approached the older boy cautiously, allowing his heart to overtake his head for once.

“I-I found some comics…” Gerard spluttered out, hearing the kid getting closer and closer.

Frank knelt down beside him and awkwardly reached out a timid hand to rest at the older boy’s dark strands. Gerard simply occupied himself with the boxes, pretending that he hadn’t felt or enjoyed the sensation currently stroking through his hair.

“I forgot I had this…” he mused, trying to deflect attention, but the sound which escaped his lips was born of frustration, surrender, and was completely unintentional. To Frank, it was the sound of despair and a half-hearted SOS. But Gerard wouldn’t look up, he couldn’t; the conversation that they’d previously had was playing on his mind, and he deeply regretted saying anything at all. Gerard needed to be loved; he needed it more than he needed the air that filled the room.

Frank’s mouth was pressed against his jaw before he had time to think up another sentence. It was clumsy, but the younger boy was determined.

Gerard picked and flicked at the ripped cardboard, not knowing what to do with himself. He both loved and loathed this. This situation where he was feeling; it was what he wanted, but he was terrified of it at the same time.

He felt a small hand curl round the other side of his neck; he swallowed nervously, feeling self-conscious and vulnerable. But then, from the way the kid’s hand was trembling against his skin, he guessed that Frank probably felt the same.

Slowly, he felt the softness of the younger boy’s lips at the corner of his mouth, and then the sweet pressure that followed.

Gerard’s mind was racing too fast for him to keep up; he couldn’t think, let alone move, and when he noticed Frank’s lips hovering close to his own, he didn’t know what to do. The younger boy seemed equally as confused and ultimately decided that he was just making a fool of himself.

“Shit,” Frank breathed out, quickly shuffling backwards. He felt so utterly stupid for being scared.

Gerard blinked rapidly, trying to work out what had just happened. Disappointment washing over him, he peered round curiously, watching his friend hold his forehead in his hands. He couldn’t let the kid be rejected again; it would just drive his scars deeper, he knew that.

“Frank,” he whispered softly as he crawled across the dusty carpet towards him.

“I told you I couldn’t do it!” the younger boy cried, rubbing at his eyes, almost in punishment for what he hadn’t done.

“Frankie, it’s okay,” Gerard reassured him.

“No, I can’t do anything right, I’m so fucking st—“

Gerard’s lips were pressing firmly against his mouth, cutting him off mid-sentence. And then they were gone, faster than the young boy could comprehend. He waited for him to stab him in the back, to call him a fag or harshly push him over, but nothing happened. Gerard simply sat back on his feet and apprehensively watched the kid for signs of disapproval.

Frank didn’t dare believe that this wasn’t all just a big joke; he almost wanted it to be. At least then everything would make sense, he thought.

Dry lips pressed against his once more, though more confidently this time. They felt rough and damaged against his, but he loved it; he loved every texture that was thrown his way, everything that contradicted his own, everything that was Gerard. But when the older boy’s lips parted, he was left in disarray; he had no idea what he was supposed to be doing. He’d seen people kiss before, but never really understood how everything seemed to be in sync, smooth, and perfect. He’d seen people close their eyes though, and that was something he knew he could do. So he slipped his eyes shut and timidly pushed his mouth back against his.

It wasn’t quite as either of them had expected; noses bumped and it was so very awkward. But it was lustrous, and it was all either of them needed. Gerard didn’t want perfection; he wanted Frank. He wanted to be close enough to feel his warm breath against his lips and to feel his pulse gently pound against his fingertips when they touched. He simply loved being close, because kissing Frank was like a song, one which he could listen to over and over and never love any less.
Chapter Twelve.

Chapter 13 > [link]

I've had so much trouble uploading this; everything that could go wrong did go wrong! But hopefully it's working now *hopes*...
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sandaka's avatar
so beautiful! awesomely written.