Chapter 1: The Sky is Falling
The rain had picked up its speed, almost making the high school student wish he could leave the overcrowded coffee shop.
Frank Iero sat at a booth, by himself, a cup of coffee on the table in front of him. He had his left elbow on the table, his palm holding his head up. He traced his index finger on the brim of the Styrofoam cup. He lingered his gaze on the many pieces of paper before him, trying to keep his attention on them. But the noise of the coffee shop had made concentrating difficult.
He turned his head, still keeping his chin on his palm, as he looked out of the window. Raindrops had collected on the surface, making it difficult to see outside. Or it could have been the intensity of the storm. Frank sighed and looked back down at the papers in front of him.
He lifted up his cup to his lips, taking a drink. He grimaced slightly, quickly pulling the cup back. He smacked his lips together before pushing his coffee aside. He raised up a hand to flatten the beanie on top of his brown hair before looking back out of the window again.
The rain had begun to lose its speed. Frank chewed on his lip as he craned his neck to see past all of the other people in the shop. The clock on the wall read four-thirty. Frank leaned back in his seat and absent-mindedly wrapped his fingers around the coffee cup.
Should he leave now, or wait a little while longer?
Frank turned his head, running his tongue across his lips. The storm had turned into a drizzle now, but it could change any minute. He narrowed his eyes.
Screw this, he thought, I need to meet up with the guys.
The brunette extended his hands, gathering up the sheets of paper. He turned slightly before opening up his bag beside him. He shoved the papers in there before throwing the flap back over it.
Frank stood up, then, picking up the Styrofoam cup. He curled his fingers around it and leaned over, grabbing the strap of his bag and slinging to over his shoulder.
He made his way over to the trash can, throwing his coffee away. He wiped his palms against his jeans before exiting the coffee shop, the warm atmosphere it brought soon leaving.
Frank lifted up his head to look up at the sky. He narrowed his eyes, feeling raindrops hit his face. He scrunched up his nose as he lowered his head, smacking his lips. He sniffed and turned on his heel, beginning to walk down the street.
The brunette stopped, then, hearing his phone ring within his bag. He turned his torso, reaching out his hands to undo his bag. He shoved a hand into it, wrapping his fingers around his Blackberry. He dragged it out, seeing his friend's—Bob—name flash on the screen. Frank pressed the 'accept call' button before lifting his phone up to his ear.
"Hello—" Frank begun, but, soon, he felt something come into contact with his back, causing him to be knocked over. His phone flew out of his hand and ended up a few feet from where he laid now. Bob's voice could be heard on the other line. The words "what the fuck, Frank?" stuck out.
Despite from being tackled only seconds ago, there was no weight on Frank's back. He pressed his palms into the sidewalk and lifted himself up enough to turn around. His eyes immediately widened.
A boy stood in front of him. Well, he wasn't really a boy; he looked older than Frank. His eyes were wide. The hazel coloring in them seemed to sparkle. He was watching Frank with curiosity, as if he had seen nothing like him before. Frank slowly sat up, noticing that the other was shirtless, revealing pale skin. He licked his lips and made his eyes travel back up to his face, seeing chin-length, straight black hair. Frank furrowed his brow before his gaze drifted off to the side, his eyes widening again.
Amazed at how he didn't notice them before, he, now, couldn't take his eyes off them.
Long white wings were coming out of the other's back. The longer he stared, he discovered that the tips of the feathers were black, and there were flecks of black scattered about, as well.
Frank looked at the boy, mouth open in shock. "What the hell are you?"
The creature flapped his wings.
Chapter 2: Names and Washcloths
"Bob, I'm sorry I couldn't make it to band practice today… Something came up."
"Whatever, Frank. We'll just reschedule."
"Thanks." Frank ended the call and slowly lowered his head, sighing. "Goddamn." He straightened up, tightening his grip on the phone. He turned around, then, narrowing his eyes at the creature.
Frank had brought the other home with him, which probably wasn't a good idea, considering the fact he lived with his mom. But there was something about him—something that told Frank he couldn't leave the creature out there in the rain.
The black-head had taken it upon himself to wonder around Frank's room, touching everything he could reach. Since he had been brought inside, he seemed to be in a better mood, his motions being more animated. Yet he had not said a word.
Frank chewed on his lip, keeping his eyes on the other. He noticed that there was grim on his cheeks, staining the flawless, pale complexion. Frank raised up a hand, beginning to bite on his thumbnail. The nail snapped against his teeth, causing the winged creature to raise his head. He looked at Frank with wide eyes.
Frank gave him a weak smile and a wave. He shook his head and lowered his hand. "Can you come into the bathroom with me?" The creature furrowed his eyebrows. Frank bit his lip. "You have dirt on your face." He pointed at his own face, as if it would help the other understand. The other stared at him, slowly raising up a hand to touch his cheek. Frank sighed and turned on his heel, beginning to go over to the connected bathroom. "Come here."
He stood by the sink while he waited for the other to follow. In order to enter the room, though, he had to pull his wings in a bit. The feathers ruffled as if a cold wind passed through them. Frank smiled a bit.
The black-head stood in front of Frank, extending his wings back out. He cringed when the tip of one wing came into contact with the shower curtain. Frank shook his head and turned towards the cabinet, opening it and taking out a washcloth. He wet it before looking at the other, raising it to dab at his cheeks.
"What's your name?" he asked, tilting his head. He ran the cloth down his cheek, seeing the dirt disappear. The black-head stared at him, furrowing his eyebrows. Frank stared back. "You know… a name." He moved the washcloth over to the other cheek. "My name's Frank."
He looked at Frank, tilting his head. He raised up a hand, pressing a finger to his bottom lip. Frank shook his head. He lowered the washcloth, then, his job done. The other's cheeks were now a light pink. His nose twitched. Frank tossed the cloth into the sink.
He scanned the black-head, noticing the only thing he was wearing were a pair of tattered, dirty basketball shorts. His feet were even bare. Frank frowned and looked at the other. "Would you like some clothes to, like, sleep in?" His response was another furrowed brow expression. Frank sighed and shook his head. "Never mind." He started out of the room.
He sat down on his bed and stretched out his legs. He raised up his head, seeing the black-head enter the bedroom, folding his wings a bit while doing so. Frank studied him before pulling back the covers, crawling into bed. He looked over at the other.
He was looking around the floor. He chewed on his lip before plopping down on the ground, in the middle of the room. Frank swallowed, resting his head on the pillow. "Can you fold those wings against your back?"
The other looked at him before flapping his white and black wings. He blinked.
Frank sighed again and turned over in bed, making his back face the strange creature. "Night," he muttered, doubting the other could hear.
Silence was heard for the next few minutes. Frank didn't move, and not even the boy in the middle of the room. Soon, a high, slightly raspy voice broke it.
"Gerard. My name's Gerard."
Frank smiled against his pillow.
Chapter 3: Chalk
Frank set the plate of food in front of the black-head, now named Gerard, before going over to his bedroom wall, sliding down it. He stretched his legs out as he raised his coffee mug to his lips.
Gerard looked at the food—a piece of toast, bacon, and a hash brown—as he chewed on his lip. He glanced at Frank before picking up his slice of bacon and taking a bite.
Lowering the cup from his mouth and resting it on his thigh, Frank let out a small laugh. "You're lucky I don't have school today." Gerard didn't bother to raise up his head this time. He had started on his toast. Frank bit his lip. "How come you talked when I was going to sleep?"
"I don't like talking."
Frank furrowed his eyebrows and licked his lips. "Why not?" Not actually expecting a reply to his question, the brunette was surprised when he heard the other's voice.
"I think it's stupid."
Frank studied Gerard, watching as he pushed his plate away, finished. He smacked his lips and extended his wings as if he were stretching.
Frank furrowed his eyebrows. "Stupid?" The other lifted up his head, catching Frank's eye. He nodded before standing up, looking around the room.
"But I don't understand. How's it stupid? And how come you acted dumb when I talked to you before?"
Gerard looked at Frank, licking his lips. He pointed at himself. "Reasons." He dropped back down to the floor, folding his wings up slightly, before extending them again.
Frank shook his head and looked down into his coffee cup. He drummed his fingers against it. Next thing he knew, Gerard was in his face, looking down into the cup, too. His wings acted like a wall, blocking the two of them off from the rest of the world.
"Um, what are you doing?"
His response was Gerard peering into his cup again.
Frank furrowed his brow. "Do you want a drink?" Gerard looked at him, eyes wide. The brunette narrowed his own. "Do you even know what this is?" He shook the cup.
Without waiting for the other's reply, Gerard took the cup and slid off Frank's lap. He flinched, the white wing skimming across his cheek, and making him sneeze.
He turned his head to look at the other, who had both of their hands wrapped around the gray mug. Gerard hunched over, giving his wings the freedom to get comfortable. He looked over at Frank before resting the brim of the cup on his bottom lip. He tilted his head back, letting the lukewarm substance travel down his throat.
Suddenly, he heard a loud spitting sound. Frank turned his head, seeing the black-head wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. His wings beat against the wall behind him.
"Icky! Tastes like chalk!"
Frank stared at Gerard, a smile growing on his face. "It's coffee." He laughed.
The black-head stood up, Frank's coffee cup now abandoned on the floor. He continued to wipe his mouth, his wings still flapping.
Frank wrapped his arm around his stomach, laughing. Despite the gagging sounds coming from Gerard and the laughter from himself, he heard movement outside his door.
His eyes widened as he stood up and hurried over to Gerard. He pressed his palms against his side, pushing him into the bathroom. "Go in there and close the door," he hissed. Gerard looked at him, eyes wide, before he folded his wings a bit and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Before Frank could even reach the middle of his room, his mother entered cautiously. She looked around, her eyebrows furrowed.
"Did you have a bird in here? I heard wings."
Frank pulled his best confused face. "I don't know what you're talking about, Mom."
She shook her head as if she doubted herself. "Well… I'm going to work." And with that, she left the room.
Frank let out a relieved sigh before turning his attention to the bathroom door, but the door was already open, Gerard standing in the doorway.
He raised up a finger to his lips, making a 'shush' noise.
The black-head held up his own finger, smiling behind it.
Chapter 4: Writing on the Walls
The weekend passed more quickly than what Frank would've liked. Through trying to get Gerard to talk more, getting him to like the taste of coffee, and trying to find out where he came from or what he was, Frank must have lost track of time. Before he knew it, it was Monday morning, and the realization of what he was going to do with Gerard had finally sunk in.
Frank stared at the creature as he slipped his bag onto his shoulder. He curled his fingers against the strap, biting down on his lip. "Will you be okay here… by yourself?"
The black-head scrunched up his nose and spun on his heel, going over to Frank's bed. He patted it before carefully sitting down. He looked over at him.
"I'm taking that as a yes, then." Frank nodded once before turning around and going over to his door. "I'll see you after school, Gerard."
And with that, the winged creature was alone. He fluttered his wings, thinking for a second that the other would come back in the room.
The brunette tried to keep his gaze down on the textbook before him. But he found it difficult, because of the questions being thrown at him by his friends, Bob Bryar, Ray Toro, and Mikey Way.
"Why couldn't you meet up with us?" Ray asked, furrowing his brow.
"I was talking to you, and it sounded like you got jumped or something," Bob added with a nod.
Frank let out a sigh along with a shake of his head. "Guys, can you stop bothering me about that? I need to do this homework." He lowered his head back to the textbook.
Bob leaned across the lunch table, causing the still silent Mikey to cringe back. The blonde looked at the book Frank was trying to be absorbed in. "Dude that was assigned Friday. How come you haven't done it yet?"
With that question, Gerard popped up in Frank's mind. He wondered how he was doing.
"I was busy this weekend."
Bob snorted and leaned back in his seat. "Yeah, busy." The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Bob and Ray stood up and exited the room without any other word.
Frank shook his head and snapped the book shut.
"What's going on?"
Frank furrowed his eyebrows and turned his head, seeing Mikey watching him with careful eyes. He always liked Mikey the best. He shrugged, standing up from the table. "It's a long story, Mikes. I'd rather not explain."
Mikey stood up after him. "I have time."
Frank held the book to his chest, looking down. Mikey stood beside him, starting to match their steps. "The clock says otherwise, Mikey," he said, gliding through the halls, hearing names being shouted at them. Frank fought back the urge to run.
Mikey shrugged when they reached the other's locker. He leaned against the neighboring ones as the darker-haired dialed his combination before digging into the locker. "You know what I mean." Frank shook his head and grabbed his English book. He closed the locker before turning his head to look at Mikey.
"Actually, I don't." He begun to walk down the hall again, Mikey following close behind. He lightly touched Frank's shoulder.
"I'm here for you, Frank."
The shorter looked down, smiling slightly. "I know, Mikey."
It was just a wild guess, but Frank figured that Gerard missed him when he was at school.
When he opened up his bedroom door, he was met with the black-haired, his wings flapping frantically. Frank instantly smiled, reaching out his hands, putting them on the other's still bare chest. "Yeah, I'm home, now, calm down. Mom's home…"
Gerard's eyes widened, and he folded his wings up a bit. He took a few steps back, giving Frank the room to walk in. The shorter went deeper into the room, eyes soon widening.
"What the hell, Gerard?"
The wall opposite them was covered in words, phrases. It looked like they were written in some type of charcoal. Frank stepped closer to the wall, noticing that his name was on the wall a few times. He also saw 'I'm alone', 'I don't belong here', and 'I'm scared' multiple times.
Frank shook his head, lips parted in disbelief and amazement. "Why did you do this?"
Gerard stared at him before walking past him, the edge of his wing brushing against his arm. Frank began to raise up his hand to touch the spot where the feathers had been, but shook his head slowly. He lowered his hand.
The other stood by Frank's bed, staring at him. He soon turned his head and extended an arm, pointing at a sentence that was directly above his bed.
'I missed you.'
Chapter 5: Anatomy
Frank absentmindedly flipped through the pages of his Anatomy book. He scanned the page, sighing loudly. Why was he having trouble memorizing the bones? They learned this in eighth grade. He put a hand in his hair, scratching this head. What was the name for the knee bone?
"Hell, I'll just put knee cap," he muttered, grabbing the worksheet he was working on. He begun to write in the answer on the miniature diagram, but was soon interrupted by a snap from the middle of the room.
Frank raised up his head, seeing Gerard with a crushed charcoal stick in his hands. It looked like he had smudged the black art utensil into a portion of his floor, as if he were attempting to draw something. Frank noticed that Gerard had managed to get some of the charcoal on his cheeks and even some had gotten on the tips of his wings, standing out from the already black tips. Gerard's eyes were wide as he looked at Frank.
The brunette sighed. "Gerard, I don't have time to deal with this. I need to get this homework done. I'm practically failing."
"I don't have time—wait, what?"
Gerard stood up, carrying the broken charcoal to dump in the trash can. "It's not the knee cap." He tried to dust his hands off, but it only caused the charcoal to smudge more. He looked at Frank, eyes wide again. "Patella."
Frank stared at the other, mouth opened in disbelief, but quickly shut his mouth, shaking his head. "Oh, okay, thanks." He began to erase his answer, looking at Gerard. "How'd you know that?"
The black-head shrugged, examining his darkened hands.
Frank chewed on his lip before lowering his head looking at the worksheet. "How about the collarbone?"
Frank scribbled down the answers, smiling. "Thank you so much." He snapped his book shut before pushing it onto the floor. He looked up at Gerard. "I didn't know you knew anything about Anatomy."
Gerard shrugged again and lifted up his hands, showing the charcoal stained skin.
Frank slowly nodded, sliding off the bed. "Oh, okay. I'll help you get that off." He started into the bathroom, Gerard following close behind. He went over to a cabinet, grabbing a washcloth. He glanced at Gerard as he wet the cloth. "I don't know how I'm supposed to get it out of your feathers…"
The taller frowned and fluttered his wings. Frank sighed and wringed out the cloth. "Well, I'm sorry you have to have wings." Frank looked at Gerard, whose face held a sad expression. He shook his head, lowering it to wipe off the other's hands. "I didn't mean it like that, okay?"
Gerard turned his head and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked off to the side, biting his lip. Frank shook his head before sighing, reaching out his hand to wrap around Gerard's bony wrist. He started to wipe off the charcoal. The noirette watched him with wide, careful eyes.
Once Frank was done with the other's hands, he started to dab at his cheeks, seeing traces of the black substance on the skin. He slid the cloth across Gerard's jawbone, his mandible, the thought of the other actually being fairly attractive hitting him, then.
Frank slowly lowered his head to stare at Gerard's chest. He slid his eyes closed, biting his lip. Gerard tilted his head and extended a hand, lightly touching the other's neck. "Frank."
He shook his head, raising up his head, staring at Gerard. "I've seen you before." He started dabbing at his cheek again, but he kept his gaze on the other's eyes, the hazel coloring that made the carrier look familiar.
Gerard slowly blinked, making his eyes sparkle. "I've seen you before, too."
Frank set the washcloth on the sink, all traces of charcoal on his hands and cheeks gone. Except for his wings. He didn't know about those.
"What do you think I should do about the charcoal on your wings?"
Gerard lowered his head, as if he was ashamed of himself. He shrugged. Frank let out a sigh. "Well, how about you figure it out. I need to get to bed." He turned and walked out of the room, leaving a frowning Gerard behind.
Frank had managed to change into his pajamas, put his Anatomy book back in his bag, and fixed his bed before hearing a large crash in the bathroom. He ran over to his bedroom door to lock it before hurrying over to the room.
Once inside, he had to widen his eyes. It seemed that he couldn't leave the winged creature alone without him getting into something.
In the bathtub, with the portable shower head in his hands, was Gerard, his eyes wide with fear. The shower curtain was on the ground, and it looked like one of his wings had caused it. His left wing was folded up a bit, some of the feathers ruffled up uncomfortably.
Frank walked deeper into the bathroom, mouth open in disbelief. "What did you try to do, Gerard?"
Gerard's eyes widened even more, if that was possible. His lips trembled together, and the shower head fell from between his fingers, making it thud against the bathtub. Frank was surprised his mother hadn't asked him what all the commotion was coming from. He pushed the thought out of his head as he took a step closer to Gerard.
He watched Frank with wide eyes before closing the shining orbs and extending his wings. Frank stopped in his tracks, then. He even took a step back. He thought for a second that Gerard might attempt to fly, bust out of the room, but, instead, the black-head wrapped the wings around himself, like a protective barrier.
Frank stared at the other before slowly walking back over to him. He held his breath as he reached out his hand, touching the dirty white feathers. Gerard's whole body shivered, making Frank pull his hand back quickly. He let out a sigh before shaking his head and extending his hand again.
His fingertips glided across the feathers, to the top of a wing. Frank slowly began to pull it back, revealing the face of the crying Gerard. He gave him a soft smile. "There's no need to cry. I'm not mad."
Chapter 6: Downy Feathers
He was remembering the other from before. He didn't exactly know when, but he believed it was when he was still in high school. His senior year? Maybe. He had remembered seeing him around school. He didn't remember if they had any classes together. It was rare for a sophomore and a senior to share a class, unless the senior was really dumb.
No, Gerard remembered Frank from school. They had met eyes a few times in the hallway, but nothing more. But that was only a few months ago. How come everything had changed about himself? How come he had sprouted wings from his back?
When he had tried to figure out how he got the fucking wings, he got a really bad headache. The only things he could remember was a sharp pain, a cold feeling, and the sound of car doors slamming. Gerard didn't like to think about it. It made him have nightmares. They even made Frank have to wake him… like now.
"Gerard! Gerard, wake up." Frank curled his fingers into the black-head's shoulders, shaking him slightly.
The other snapped his eyes open and quickly sat up. He was still in his regular spot on the floor. Nothing was going to take him away. Not again.
Frank studied him, eyes wide. "Gerard," he muttered. He reached out his hand to touch his arm. "Was it the same dream?"
Gerard looked at Frank, shivering. He slowly began to nod. He extended his wings, wrapping them around himself. "Scared," he breathed out, closing his eyes.
The brunette gave the other a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry." He stood up before walking back over to his bed. "Can you try and go back to sleep?" Frank sat down in his messy bed, looking over at the clock on his desk. He narrowed his eyes. "Shit, it's only two thirty." He rubbed his eyes, looking over at Gerard. "Please, sleep." And with that, Frank sank down into the bed, causing the winged other to shiver again.
He looked around nervously before fluttering his wings. He heard himself swallow as he stood up, carefully walking over to Frank. He stopped beside the bed and looked down at the smaller. "Frank."
A groan came. "Huh?"
"I'm sleeping with you."
Frank raised himself up in bed, as if this would have prevented Gerard from doing what he wanted. But the black-head had already crawled onto the bed and attempted to get into the corner closest to the wall, but his wings were providing difficulty.
Frank frowned. "Gerard."
Before he knew it, the other's wings were slowly being drawn into his back, flattening themselves down. He winced a bit, looking at Frank. "Yeah?"
"I thought you couldn't do that."
Frank smiled as he settled back down in bed, feeling Gerard move around beside him. He looked up at the ceiling until he assumed the other had gotten comfortable. He turned his head, staring at him. Gerard looked back, eyes shining.
Gerard smelled like downy feathers.
Frank decided he liked the smell.
Chapter 7: Hot Chocolate
Frank found himself waking up naturally the next day. He figured that his mother would have attempted to enter the bedroom… and see that her son was in the bed with a boy who had wings… but nobody came.
It felt nice, he thought.
He turned his head to see Gerard still asleep. He had his arms pulled to his chest. His fingers were curled into his palms, making loose fists.
Frank laughed silently to himself before carefully sitting up in bed. He turned to swing his legs over the edge of the bed. He sighed before standing up.
Next thing he knew, Gerard had somehow managed to wake up and go over to stand beside Frank. His eyes were wide, and his wings were still tucked away.
It was strange to stand beside Gerard now. He felt like the wings had to be there. Frank wrinkled his nose. Gerard cocked his head and stared at Frank. And as if he could read his mind, he slowly extended his wings as far as they could go. Gerard looked at him and blinked.
Frank smiled. "Come on, I'll get you some breakfast." He started over to the bedroom door. "I think Mom's at work already." He looked at the other. "You can come with."
Gerard looked around the room, as if to stall time, before carefully walking over to the shorter. He began to pull his wings in, to flatten against his back.
Frank's eyes widened, and he reached out a hand, letting it hover inches away from Gerard's chest. "No, don't… I like them."
Gerard smiled softly as he extended the white and black wings again. Frank smiled in return before lowering his hand. He studied the creature's wings before heading out of the room.
"Do you want to try coffee again?" Frank turned his head and resisted the urge to laugh. Gerard's eyes were wide, and he was shaking his head. Frank shook his own head and poured himself a cup of coffee, laughing softly. "Okay, then." He put the coffee pot back in its spot. "Well, what do you want to drink?" He turned his head to look at the other, but he was no longer by his side. Instead, he was searching through the cabinets.
Frank turned on his heel, looking at Gerard. "What are you looking for?" He walked over to the cabinet he was in and reached out his hand, grabbing what Gerard had his eyes on. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked back at Gerard.
Gerard smiled slightly and nodded. His wings fluttered.
Frank sighed and turned back to the counter. "You better drink this… I mean it." Gerard only fluttered his wings again.
Several minutes later, Gerard was holding the cup of the steaming substance with an uncertain look on his face. Frank was next to him, waiting for the other's expression. He sighed a bit before lifting up a hand, urging Gerard to go on. "I know it'll be hot, but come on." The black-head narrowed his eyes. "You wanted it."
Gerard let out a breath before blowing on the warm liquid. He carefully licked his lips and raised the coffee mug up to his mouth. He tipped it back, letting the drink seep down his throat. Frank watched the other with a careful eye.
The winged other lowered the cup from his lips soon after. He licked his lips, catching stray drops of hot chocolate while doing so. Frank studied him. "Well?"
Gerard smirked a bit. "Way better than coffee."
Frank laughed, shaking his head. "Whatever," he said. He heard a ringing sound come from the other side of the house, from his room. He glanced at Gerard before starting over to the direction of his room. "I'm going to get that. Don't move." Gerard gave Frank a face, but he had already left the kitchen.
Frank frantically searched the bedroom once he had ran in there. He looked around the room, taking the time to notice that most of the room was consumed with Gerard's charcoal drawings. He shook his head and darted over to his phone on his desk.
"Finally, dude. Goddamn, you took forever."
Frank smiled. "Hey, Bob." He looked around the room once more before leaning back on the desk. He looked down at the ground. "What's up? Why'd you call?"
"The guys are meeting at that coffee shop downtown, wanting to talk about the songs we had or some shit. You still got them, right?"
He thought back to what he had done with the papers… Oh, yeah. He had shoved them into his bag before leaving the coffee shop. And then… Gerard had fallen on him.
"Hey, Earth to Frank."
Frank quickly shook his head. "Yeah, yeah. I still have them." A crash came from the kitchen. Frank narrowed his eyes, looking at the doorway. "Hey… can I bring someone with me?"
Chapter 8: Notes in the Coffee Shop
After countless attempts of defending the coffee maker from murder, Frank had finally pulled Gerard into his room, telling him that he was supposed to tag along. The black-head didn't like the idea of wearing a shirt… well, clothes in general, and the idea of having his wings tucked away for an unknown amount of time.
"I know it'd be uncomfortable, but you have to. I don't want to see those beauties gone either."
Gerard seemed to obey Frank a little more after that.
Now, the two of them were standing outside of the coffee shop, waiting for the rest of the guys to pop up. Gerard looked awkward as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. Frank had picked out a pair of his older Converse, knowing they were worn and maybe stretched out. He had also picked out one of his bigger pairs of jeans, with an oversized hoodie to go along with it. Frank didn't know if Gerard's wings could show through clothes, and he didn't want to find out today.
Gerard put his hands at his sides, biting down on his lip nervously. Frank watched him before reaching out a hand, putting it on his back. "It's gonna be okay." Gerard looked at him, eyes wide. Frank could feel a slight rustle come from beneath his fingertips. "Not now," he muttered.
The black-head let out a whine, but before Frank could react, he saw Bob and Ray walking towards him. "Hey, Frank!" Bob yelled, waving his arms around. Ray attempted to put Bob's arms down.
Frank smiled and lowered his hand from Gerard's back. "Hey, guys… Wait. Where's Mikey?" He could feel Gerard stare at him, then, a shiver running down his back. Frank didn't know why.
Bob and Ray stood in front of the two. "He couldn't come," Ray said. "He told us he already made plans with Alicia… or something."
Gerard gave that little shiver again, making Frank glance at him.
"Which I call bullshit," Bob chimed in after Ray. "Because he fucking knew we were all gonna meet up today."
Frank smiled a bit, looking at the blonde. "Hah, really?" He resisted touching Gerard's back.
"Yeah, so, I don't know what we can do today. We don't want Mikey to be left out a whole lot." Ray nodded.
Frank nodded, too. He opened his mouth to say something, but Bob spoke first.
"Who's your friend?" He pointed at Gerard, who, fortunately, stopped shivering.
Frank turned his head, looking at the black-head. His eyes were wide. "Well, this is Gerard." He looked at Ray and Bob. "Oh… and he can't talk. He's… mute."
Bob stared at Gerard with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open. Ray was studying him with newfound interest. The winged other shifted around uncomfortably, glancing at Frank every so often. Bob tilted his head, continuing to look at the black-head. "Why can't you talk?" Ray narrowed his eyes and elbowed Bob. His eyes widened. "What?" Ray gave him a look, which caused Bob to shake his head. "Sorry." He turned his head to look at Frank. "Why can't he talk?"
Gerard gave Frank a small frown before looking down. Frank shook his head and looked at Bob. "He's mute. That's why."
And with that, the brunette turned on his heel and entered the coffee shop, Gerard following close behind him. Ray shook his head and followed after them, making Bob drag himself in.
An hour or so later, Ray told the others that he had to go or his mom would get mad, and Bob had to leave, saying that his mom didn't even know he had left the house in the first place.
Frank and Gerard remained in the coffee shop, not wanting to go home just yet.
Frank looked at the Styrofoam cup in front of him. He traced the rim of the cup. He glanced at Gerard from across the table. He had a Styrofoam cup in front of him, as well. Frank bit his lip. "Is this hot chocolate any good?"
Gerard wrinkled his nose, shrugging a shoulder.
Frank slowly nodded, lowering his gaze. He tilted his head, wrapping his fingers around the cup. "You know… I was in this very coffee shop… in this very booth… drinking a cup of coffee before I met you." He looked at him.
Gerard watched him, eyes wide. Frank gave him a soft smile before studying him. "Do you know what you are?" he asked in a low voice. The black-head quickly lowered his head. Frank frowned. "Sorry I asked…"
The winged other raised up his head before straightening up in his seat. He reached out a hand, grabbing one of the few sheets of paper Ray or Bob had forgotten. He looked around for a second before grabbing a pencil, too. He pushed the cup of hot chocolate away before putting the pencil to the paper, beginning to write.
Frank watched him, brow furrowed. He raised up the cup, taking a drink of the still warm coffee. Gerard pushed the paper over to the other, along with the pencil. Frank lowered the cup and tilted his head, reading what was written.
I'm an angel… I think… One of the ones that fell…
He glanced at the other before grabbing the pencil, writing back a response.
A fallen angel? Why do you think you fell? …how did you die?
I don't remember how I died… but I think it happened shortly after I graduated… I have a feeling cars were involved… I don't know. Oh, but I do have a theory about why I fell.
Really? Do tell.
You know how we think we know each other from before?
…well, we did… We seen each other around school, and… I think… that… well, God doesn't like homosexuality.
I… I don't understand.
Gerard seemed to avoid the other's gaze as he quickly wrote back, in his scrawny handwriting.
I think I fell, because I was, well… am… interested in… you. Yeah. It's stupid.
But as Gerard pushed the paper over to Frank and tried to hide his face as he took a drink of hot chocolate, it wasn't really stupid. Not deep down, at least.
Chapter 9: Gerard
The noirette clung onto Frank's arm, holding him close, not wanting him to leave. He stared at him with wide, fearful eyes. He let out a low whimper from his throat.
Frank felt his throat tighten at the sight. He reached out a hand, putting it on Gerard's shoulder, the crook of his neck. "You're making me regret leaving," he muttered, lowering his head. Gerard took a step closer to him. He sighed and looked up at the other. "While I'm gone tonight, draw me a bunch of pictures. When I come home, I want this whole room filed with your wonderful charcoal art, okay?" He raised up his head to cup his cheek, stroking the skin with the pad of his thumb. Gerard looked at him with the same wide eyes.
I think I fell, because I was, well… am… interested in… you.
Frank smiled and lowered his hand. "I better get going." He, then, turned and started to his bedroom door. But the other's quiet voice stopped him.
"Where are you even going?"
Frank frowned and turned his head, looking over his shoulder at him. "I thought I told you…" Gerard only shook his head. "I'm going to Mikey's… a friend's, for the night." The black-head lowered his gaze. "I'll be back sometime tomorrow."
Gerard, keeping his head lowered, walked over to Frank, then. He seemed to hesitate for a few seconds before he raised up his head and leaned forward, placing a kiss on Frank's cheek, the odd little spot on the corner of his mouth.
And he didn't mind at all.
When Frank opened up the door to the Way household, he was instantly engulfed in a hug by Mikey's mother, Donna. He coughed a bit but wrapped his arms around her middle, hugging her back. "Hey, Mrs. Way. Thanks for letting me stay."
Donna pulled away, smiling. "It's a pleasure having you, dear. Michael's talked all about you…"
"Mom… Don't say that."
Frank turned his head, seeing the mousey-haired boy coming down the stairs. But despite his annoyed tone, he had a small smile on his face. He stood in front of the shorter. "Hey, Frank."
He simply waved, feeling only slightly awkward while doing so. Mikey looked over at his mother. "You can go now… Frank's safe and all." Donna merely smiled, rubbed her son's shoulder, and disappeared into another part of the house.
Mikey shook his head, letting out a sigh. He looked at Frank. "So, let's go up to my room, yeah?" The taller turned on his heel, starting back over to the stairs. Frank followed close behind, holding onto the strap of his bag.
An hour or so into his visit, Frank found himself sprawled out on Mikey's floor, while the other was on his laptop, sitting on his bed. Frank rolled around on the ground a bit before sitting up. He looked at Mikey.
"Why couldn't you come with the rest of the guys to the coffee shop?"
Mikey slowly raised his head from the laptop. He pushed his glasses up onto his nose. "I had already made plans with Alicia."
Frank laid back down on the floor, putting his arms behind his head. "How are you two?" He looked at the ceiling.
He could almost hear the smile in Mikey's voice. "We're doing great." Frank smiled himself. "You still talking to Jamia?"
The smaller wrinkled up his nose. "No… haven't talked to her in a while actually…"
"Oh? Why is that?"
"I don't really know… Um, can I tell you something, Mikes?" With that, Frank sat up, looking at the one on the bed. Mikey had pushed his laptop aside and was looking at Frank.
He nodded. "Yeah, you know you can."
Frank studied Mikey for a second before slowly looking down. "Well… I think I might be… gay."
Mikey remained silent for a second before furrowing his eyebrows. "This isn't your way of coming on to me, is it?"
He widened his eyes, shaking his head quickly. "No… no! I know you're straight." He laid back down on the floor, biting his lip. "It's just that… I'm confused."
The other watched Frank before scratching the back of their neck. "I wish my brother was here… He'd know what to tell you." He reached over and shut off the laptop.
Frank furrowed his brow. "You have a brother? How come you never mentioned him?"
Mikey slid off the bed, carrying the laptop back over his to his desk. "I thought you knew."
"Well, obviously, I didn't. So, who is he? Where is he?"
The taller let out a small sigh before reaching forward, grabbing a picture from his desk. He held it out for Frank, making him raise up from the floor. "His name's Gerard. He… he died over the summer… right after school ended."
Frank's eyes widened as he reached out, taking the picture from Mikey's hands. "Gerard…?" He studied the picture and found the same hazel eyes looking back at him. Gerard was Mikey's brother?
He lifted up his head, giving him back the picture. "How'd he die?"
Mikey gave him a sheepish expression before walking back over to the bed, sitting down. "Gerard was interested in going to this art school a few towns over… So, he told me, Mom, and Dad that he was going there, just to pick up an application, and then he'd be right back.
"We only had one car, so, Gerard had to take a cab over there. I guess he made it there safe… but… he never came home." Mikey lowered his head, taking in a deep breath. Frank watched him, eyes wide.
"When we hadn't heard anything from him for twenty-four hours… Mom filed a missing person's report." He chewed on his thumb nervously. "And… uh… a couple weeks later we… um… got a call from the police." He scrunched up his nose. "We all thought it'd be them telling us that they found Gerard, but… it wasn't.
"They told my parents that they found a body at the park… in the pond." Mikey let out a sigh. "T-The body matched Gerard's description…" He closed his eyes. "Near the park, there was a car that had strands of Gerard's hair in the seat, along with drops of his blood." He shivered a bit and nibbled on his lip. "There was also… duct tape over Gerard's mouth.
"The police said that Gerard must have been kidnapped… and his mouth was taped shut." Mikey tapped his bottom lip. "And then he was thrown into the pond to drown." He slowly nodded and buried his head in his hands.
Frank was watching Mikey with wide eyes. He had no idea Gerard had been through… that, and he was still sent back to Earth. Hadn't he suffered enough?
Frank stood up, feeling his knees pop while doing so. He shook his head and crawled onto the bed. He wrapped his arms around the now-crying Mikey's shoulders, hugging him tightly.
"It's okay… I have a feeling Gerard's safe now."
Chapter 10: Confessions
Maybe… just maybe, Gerard finally remembered how he died. Though… that was highly unlikely. The reoccurring sounds of car doors slamming shut, the sharp pain to his head, and the cold sensation he got when trying to remember didn't give him any help either.
It was frustrating, and he wished he'd find out after all this time.
The noirette extended his wings, looking at each of them. He let out a soft sigh before sinking down into Frank's bed, where he was sitting at. He shook his head and began to work on his drawing again, on the wall beside Frank's bed.
When he came back, Frank would be expecting his drawings.
Gerard wasn't one to disappoint.
It felt weird, coming back into his room and automatically telling two things to Gerard. One, he knew how he died, and two, he was going to cut his hair.
Gerard wasn't too thrilled about one of those things.
The black-head had to try and pull Frank away from the doorway, away from the bathroom, where he would be getting the haircut, to show him what he had drawn when he was away. Frank tried to explain to him that he would see them after the haircut, but Gerard wouldn't listen.
"Don't you wanna know how you died?"
After that, Gerard dragged himself into the bathroom, head down. "Why are you cutting my hair anyway?" he mumbled.
Frank frowned a bit as he closed the door behind him. "If you go out in public with me again, Mikey'll recognize you." He touched the long black locks before reaching out a hand to take the scissors. "So, I'm cutting your hair."
He walked over to the other, standing on his tip toes. And as he extended a lock of hair, cutting it with his tongue between his lips, he started to tell Gerard the story of how he died.
Once the tale and the haircut were finished, Frank took a step back, arms crossed over his chest. Nobody moved or said anything for a few seconds until Gerard slowly raised up a hand, touching his hair.
Frank smiled a bit before putting his hands on Gerard's shoulders, preventing him from turning to look at himself. "First… does any of that make sense? The… dying thing?"
Gerard slowly nodded before looking down. "Everything I remember matches up with that." He tapped his bottom lip in thought. He nodded again. "Yeah."
Frank nodded in return and curled his fingers into the other's shoulders, tightening his grip slightly. "Okay… well, now, you can see your hair. And in all honesty, I like it." He lifted up his hands, giving Gerard the freedom to turn around, and he took the chance.
Gerard's hair was now short and shaggy. It came down to the middle of his ear, and it seemed that it suck up in random places. He slowly raised up a hand, touching his hair again. Frank bit his lip nervously. "Do you like it?"
The other turned around, facing the brunette. He, then, grew a smile on his face before he extended his arms, wrapping them around Frank's middle, lifting him up off the ground.
Gerard stretched out his wings as he wrapped them around the both of them, protecting them. Frank looked at the black-head with wide eyes as he leaned his forehead against his.
"I love it."
It was nearing one o'clock in the morning when Frank had checked what time it was. It was strange that time seemed to quickly pass while he and Gerard only laid around his room, not saying a word.
Frank was staring at the drawings Gerard had left for him. He had to admire the other's devotion to their word.
Some of the drawings were of other winged creatures, but Gerard didn't do any details to their bodies—just their wings. But he had made them beautiful, nevertheless. Frank also noticed that Gerard had even drawn him in there. Unlike most of the other pictures, the noirette had included details on his body in this one… and it seemed like Frank was crying. There was a lone feather at his feet.
Frank didn't understand it, but he liked it all the same.
Without realizing it, Gerard had entered the room with a coffee mug filled with hot chocolate. Frank watched him with narrowed eyes, but quickly shook it off. His new haircut made him look even more innocent than before.
Gerard sat down in his usual spot on the floor as he blew on the steamy drink. Frank slid off the bed, going over to sit in front of the other. He gestured to the cup. "I see you've taken a liking to hot chocolate." Gerard gave him a small smile before taking a sip. Frank bit back a smile. "You're like me with my coffee." The other scrunched up their face, making Frank laugh.
He lowered his gaze to rest on the floor as he chewed on his lip. "Do you want to talk?" he asked quietly, raising up his head. Gerard's eyes widened as he lifted up a hand, tapping his lips. Frank shook his head. "I know you think talking's stupid, but can you at least try to?" He wet his lips nervously. "I want to know more about you… the dead and alive you."
Gerard seemed to consider this as he lowered the mug from his lips to rest on his thigh. He looked down before nodding once. "Okay."
Frank smiled softly as he crawled over to the side of his bed, leaning against it. He looked over at the other before patting the space beside him. Gerard stood up on his knees as he went over to the spot Frank had showed him. He plopped down, leaning against the bed, attempting to stretch out his wings.
Frank took a deep breath and looked ahead at the floor. He heard Gerard take a sip of hot chocolate. "Do you really think you fell because you were interested in… guys?"
He didn't turn his head to see Gerard blush and close his eyes. "Not guys, no. More like… just one guy… you."
The brunette bit his lip. "But why me?" His mind drifted to all of the times he and Gerard had met eyes in the hallways. He softly smiled.
Gerard tucked in his wings slightly as he shifted around. "You were just some guy I saw in the hallways at school… that I thought was pretty attractive." He stretched out his wings; Frank could feel the feathers ruffle against him. "I always wanted to talk to you, but… I was just too scared to." He turned his head to look at Frank. "You know?"
He nodded, scooting closer to Gerard. He wanted to feel the wings.
Gerard continued, "Since I never got the courage to talk to you, school ended, I graduated, and we never actually met. A couple weeks later… I died." He wrinkled up his nose, looking down. "And, strange enough, when I fell… I fell right on you." He laughed slightly but Frank only narrowed his eyes. Gerard cleared his throat, shaking his head. "So, I have two things in mind."
Frank looked at the other, slowly nodding. "I'm listening."
Gerard glanced at him before curling his fingers into his cup. "God must be a faggot-hater and made me fall on top of the guy I was interested in"—Frank frowned—"or he sympathized with me and made me fall on top of the guy I was interested in… binding me to him, and… giving us the opportunity to actually meet."
Frank smiled and raised up a hand, scratching the back of his neck. He was about to say that he preferred the second one over the first, but he realized what Gerard had actually said.
"You're bound to me?" He looked at Gerard, brow furrowed.
He blinked, nodding. "If you tell me to leave, I will."
Frank nodded himself, wanting to take Gerard's word on it. He didn't want to know what happened if he did tell him to.
The smaller leaned into the other's side, feeling their wing bend against his shoulder, as if it was an arm. He rested his head on Gerard's shoulder, burying his face into his neck.
Frank lost himself in the softness of his feathers and the smell of hot chocolate.
Chapter 11: The Lucky One
Frank regretted gaining the habit of staying up all night during the weekends with Gerard. He soon found out that it provided difficulty when the next day was a school day—a Monday.
Gerard woke him up with a quick flutter of his wings. Frank lazily opened his eyes, looking up at the other. "Hey." He slowly raised up, realizing that he was on the floor next to Gerard. He furrowed his eyebrows, turning his head to look at the clock. His eyes widened as he quickly sat up, running into the bathroom. "It's seven-thirty. Why didn't Mom wake me up?"
Gerard slowly stood up, watching the brunette throw on some eyeliner. He chewed on his lip as Frank passed him on the way to the dresser. "She left already…" He looked down.
Frank slipped on a new t-shirt, not bothering to change his jeans. He grabbed his phone, sliding it into his jeans pocket. He looked over at Gerard as he pulled on his sweat jacket. He walked over to him, running his fingertips along the feathers. Gerard looked at him, eyes wide. "I'll be home right after school."
Then, completely unintentionally, Frank kissed Gerard.
It only lasted for a split second, for Frank realized what he had done and pulled away.
They stared at each other, eyes wide. It seemed like both were too scared of what to say. But, soon, Gerard broke the awkward silence.
"Can we… can we do that again?"
Despite knowing that he shouldn't, Frank kissed Gerard again, putting a hand on his shoulder. The black-head seemed to smile in the kiss as he raised up a hand, putting it on the other's neck. Frank felt his fingers curl and rub against the skin; he did the same for his shoulder.
The brunette felt Gerard begin to lightly suck on his top lip, and he reciprocated the action on the bottom, not wanting to disappoint. Gerard slowly extended his wings, wrapping them around Frank, holding him close.
The kiss ended as the two pulled away for breath. They leaned their foreheads against each others, breathing heavily. Frank studied Gerard before taking a step back. "I need to go."
Gerard slowly pulled his wings back, frowning a bit. He nodded and dropped his arms, taking a step back, too. Frank pulled the sleeves of his jacket down past his hands. He glanced at Gerard. "I… I-I'll miss you."
The noirette smiled. "I'll miss you, too."
Through the walk to school and the majority of his morning classes, the only thing that Frank could think about was the first kiss he had shared with the winged creature.
It was around noon—lunchtime—when Frank noticed that things were starting to go downhill. He thought that nothing could have brought him down, brought him down from the high Gerard's kiss had given him, but he was surely mistaken.
He first noticed that his day was getting much, much worse when his Algebra II teacher released them from class early. Frank was going down the hallway, trying to appear busy by digging in his bag. He always hated when his teacher released class early; he had no friends in that class, and he always had to face the jocks when he was waiting for Mikey near the Anatomy classroom. His bag distraction didn't seem to be working. In fact, it made matters worse.
"What are you looking for, Iero? Searching for your tampon?"
"I think faggot needs some help. Here—" a quarter hit Frank on the arm "—I think that should be enough."
Laughter came from behind Frank. He looked ahead, giving a death stare to the wall. He was used to the jeers, but this was getting ridiculous.
Frank snapped his bag shut, his "clever" idea of appearing busy now useless. He held his Algebra II book to his chest and went down the hallway, away from the classroom, and to his locker. Mikey's Anatomy teacher must have been holding them back. Frank looked off to the side. He needed to remember to get Gerard's help with that night's batch of Anatomy.
He was turning down the hallway when he heard the familiar voices again.
"Hey, Iero! Come over here! We wanna talk to you."
Frank, being the stupid teenager he was, turned to walk over there. But half-way through, he did this awkward leg twitch and quickly turned back around. He hurried down the hallway, praying that nobody saw that.
"What the fuck was that, Iero?"
Frank closed his eyes, mentally hitting himself. "Damn it," he breathed out, opening his eyes back up. He knew it wouldn't be a good idea to turn his head, to see if anybody had taken it upon themselves to follow him down the hall, but he done it anyway.
His eyes immediately widened when he saw two jocks, who he believed to be named Brian and Pete, following him. He quickly turned back around, trying to act like he wasn't going to panic, even though, deep down, he was going to. He knew he should have waited for Mikey, for the fucking lunch bell to ring.
Frank turned down a hallway, feeling his bag swish after him. As he turned, he caught a glimpse of Brian and Pete from the corner of his eye. He needed someplace to hide, something that could pose as a distraction. But what?
Just then, as if God actually did care, the bell rang, signaling the end of fourth period and the start of lunches. Classrooms immediately filed out, and Frank took advantage of this. With blending in because of his height, Frank ran out of the halls and went into the gym.
Students weren't allowed in the gym during lunch, but Frank didn't care. He knew he had to save his ass somehow.
After a few seconds in the gym, Frank thought maybe it was a bad idea to go in the gym. Even though it was empty, usually, he had lead Brian and Pete to a location that was wide open and would provide them with less difficulty to maneuver about. This only worsened Frank's fears of getting caught, driving the thought of 'this was a bad idea' into his head.
Frank looked around the gym commons area, hearing the arrival of Pete and Brian behind him. He bit his lip before looking around and running into the room that lead to the concession stands.
Once in the room, Frank quickly ducked behind some boxes, some coke cans, hoping he wouldn't be seen.
But, of course, Frank was never the lucky one.
Pete and Brian busted into the room, making a few boxes fall in the process. They walked further into the room, looking around carefully.
"Iero, where are you?" Pete asked, stopping in the middle of the room. He put his hands on his hips.
Brian continued walking. "We saw you run in here, faggot."
Frank resisted letting out a sound as he held his textbook close to his chest. Please make them leave. Please make them leave. Please make them leave.
He heard footsteps coming in his direction, making him close his eyes tightly.
Soon, the footsteps and the talking stopped. The room was dead-silent, and Frank slowly opened his eyes. He thought, hoped, for a split second that Brian and Pete had left… but that was before Pete had pulled him out from his spot behind the boxes by his hair.
He lifted up Frank, watching as the smaller thrashed around. He laughed, smiling, showing all of his teeth. "Here's Pete!" He laughed again.
Frank's bag and Algebra II book were on the ground, now, forgotten in the heat of the moment. Frank looked in Pete's eyes in absolute fear.
"What are we going to do with you?" Pete slowly turned his wrist, causing Frank to begin rotating. Brian walked up to stand beside Pete, a smile on his face, too. He laughed himself.
Frank closed his eyes, letting out a strained breath. "Please don't hurt me," he told them in a low voice. He knew that he shouldn't have said anything like that as soon as the words left his mouth.
Pete and Brian laughed, looking at each other. "Oh, poor baby." Pete stuck out his bottom lip in a fake pout. He tilted his head. "Is wittle Fwank scared of the bag bad footbawl players?" He laughed.
Brian rolled his eyes and shoved Pete's shoulder, causing him to rock back and forth. Frank closed his eyes tightly. "Dude," he simply said, looking at him.
Pete looked at him with wide, confused eyes. "What?" His grip slackened on Frank's hair. He opened his eyes, trying to look up at Pete's hand.
Brian only shook his head. "Nothing. You were doing everything perfectly. Please continue."
Frank bit his lip as he watched Pete. The black-head seemed to get a bit frustrated. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked, staring at the other. With his anger rising, Frank expected Pete's grip to tighten, but it slackened again.
He found himself smiling as he twisted and turned in Pete's grip and, soon, being freed from it.
Frank fell down onto the ground, on all fours. He let out a small breath before quickly scrambling onto his feet, hurrying out of the room. He would return to get his stuff.
Brian and Pete seemed to be in too much of a shock to comprehend what had just happened. Frank was almost out of the room, when Brian ran after him, tackled him, and dragged him back into the room.
"Oh, no, you don't," he muttered underneath his breath.
Pete only gave a short round of applause. "Oh, bravo," he said, heavy sarcasm in his voice. Brian dragged the resisting Frank back into the middle of the room. He let go of his legs, his ankles, before he quickly got to his feet, but only to be pushed back down by Pete.
Frank's nose smashed into the ground, and he immediately felt blood start to gust out. He could feel it start to coat his nose and mouth. Frank squealed and pressed his sweat jacket sleeve to his bloody nose. He whimpered quietly. Brian laughed again, taking it upon himself to even point and laugh at the wounded other.
Pete reached out, then, tangling his fingers into Frank's hair, causing the younger to squeal with pain. Pete and Brian laughed yet again.
Pete looked at Frank, still smiling, his teeth showing again. Frank had always hated those teeth…
Brian reached out a hand, replacing Pete's hand on Frank's hair. He pulled Frank closer, leaning down to sneer in his face. "Little baby gonna cry?"
Without realizing it, there were tears running down Frank's cheeks. He raised up a hand to wipe away the tears. He lowered his head, clenching his fist. Why him, of all people, did those two decide to pick on? There were tons of other people weaker them him, in fact. It confused Frank endlessly.
He swallowed roughly, tasting blood and mucus. He whined and raised up his hand to wipe his still bleeding nose. "Just… leave me alone. I didn't do anything to you guys." He lowered his gaze afterwards, not wanting to see their reaction. They'd probably laugh and inflict more pain on him.
Frank hated his life right now.
Pete's face actually began to soften, then, but Brian continued to laugh. He tightened his grip in Frank's hair, making him wince. He shook him. Frank felt the hair follicles being damaged.
"You better stop crying, or we'll hurt you even more." Brian smacked Frank's cheek, causing him to squeal.
Pete looked over at Brian, chewing on his lip. "Are you sure you wanna do that, Brian? Haven't we done enough?"
Frank watched as Brian slowly turned his head to look at the other. "Are you being serious right now? Do you honestly think we should stop torturing this kid?" To add emphasis, he shook Frank. He let out a gasp.
Pete seemed to shrink back. "Well, yeah. He looks like he's had enough. He might have a heart attack or something."
He might be a douchebag at times, but at least Pete knew when to stop.
Brian laughed and reached out a hand, smacking at Pete's cheek. "You're pathetic." Pete tried to move away, but he was too late. Brian laughed again. "You're funny, man."
Pete narrowed his eyes and reached out a hand. "Let go." He smacked at the hand that was holding onto Frank's hair. Brian jerked away, bringing Frank with him. He whimpered and swallowed, still tasting blood.
Brian looked at Pete in disbelief. "Dude, if you're going to be a pansy, get out." He tightened his grip, tugging on the roots of the dark-haired.
"Stop it, please." Frank stirred, closing his eyes. "I'm so sorry." Tears had begun to travel down his cheeks again.
Brian watched Frank intently as Pete reached out his hand again. "Damn it Brian—"
"—stop it!" Brian looked over at Pete with wide eyes. "God, you're so annoying!"
Frank looked up at Pete, hoping, wishing that he would do something to save him, rescue him, from the pain that could possibly be inflicted onto him. He was the only person that Frank knew that could stop Brian right now… besides Gerard. His eyes widened, and he began to twist and turn. Gerard must know he was here. There were bound together, right?
The brunette looked at Frank, shaking him roughly. "Stop looking at him. He's not going to help you, moron."
Tears welled up in Frank's eyes yet again before Pete launched himself into Brian's side, causing him to fall over, and Frank to fall onto his back, landing in a few boxes. He instantly closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting out a groan.
Frank didn't know what was happening in the middle of the room, where Brian and Pete were probably tangled up and flinging punches at each other's faces. In the midst of it all, Frank heard the sound of a knife being pulled out, the swish of a blade, and, then, someone letting out a gasp and running out of the room.
He waited for a few seconds before slowly opening his eyes. He smiled and found himself raising up, holding out his arms towards the figure that stood in front of him. Frank knew he was going to help. He knew Gerard was going to come.
"Thank you so much." He staggered to his feet before wrapping his arms around Gerard's neck. He buried his face into the crook of his neck, not caring about the blood on his face, about Brian, or about Pete. He only cared about getting out of this place and laying in bed with Gerard's wings wrapping around him.
"What the hell? Get away from me!"
Frank tilted his head to look up. His eyes immediately widened.
It wasn't Gerard who Frank had thrown himself on. It was Brian.
Frank's mouth opened and closed in shock. "I-I… I thought you were someone else."
Brian looked at Frank, eyes filled with disgust. "Whatever, queer. Say what you want." He pulled out a knife, then, making Frank go numb. His eyes glued to the knife. Brian turned it in his hands. "I'll still cut out your tongue."
Frank looked up at Brian, lips parted and eyes wide. "I… What… How…" Nothing he said seemed to able to process. The words stumbled on his tongue and wouldn't come out.
Brian let out a nasty sneer as he raised up the knife, placing the tip on his cheek. He slowly applied pressure to it as he began to drag the tip and, soon, the rest of the blade, down Frank's cheek. He closed his eyes and made no sound. He knew there was no use. He really was alone.
The other let out a low purr as he tilted his head. "Oh, I'm going to have fun with you."
Chapter 12: Bond
Frank left school early that day. Nobody seemed to notice as he dragged himself out of the front doors, bloody, bruised, and broken. He was sore, and the sleeves of his jacket were covered in nasal blood. Every time he took a breath, he got the whiff of the rust-smelling substance. He still tasted the mixture of it with mucus as he swallowed.
He wasn't sure if he had broken anything. In the least, he might have broken his nose—fractured it—whatever. His leg was sore, and he had to walk with a limp if he wanted the pain reduced. He figured it was due to when Brian had twisted and laid on top of him when he had tried crawling away.
He felt blood run down the length of his forearm. He figured it was a cut Brian had made in the crook of his elbow. It must have become irritated when it rubbed against his jacket sleeve. He sniffed—the grimy taste appeared in the back of his throat. Frank didn't know if he was heading in the right direction or not. He vaguely recognized the area, so he assumed he was. He kept his gaze down as he continued to drag himself along.
Not before long, Frank had managed to stumble onto his front yard. His mother was still at work, which wasn't a surprise, considering it was one-thirty.
Frank stood there, in front of his house, narrowing his eyes, making his face hurt. He stared at the house, at the window of his bedroom. Gerard was in there, most likely unaware of what had occurred a little less than an hour ago.
"Bound together my ass," Frank muttered underneath his breath before stepping into the house.
He headed into the bedroom, eyes narrowed still and fists clenched. He pushed open the door and attempted to storm inside, but his leg had sent a sharp pain, which only made him look like a fool as he stumbled into the bedroom.
Gerard was on Frank's bed, white and black wings spread out. He had his back to him, and he was studying the many pieces of artwork on the walls. His head was tilted back, and his lips were parted. He seemed to be oblivious to his surroundings other than those drawings. Frank roughly swallowed and took a step closer.
Gerard whipped his head to the side, eyes widening once he saw Frank. "Frank?" He furrowed his eyebrows and straightened up a bit. He turned in his spot and crawled over to the edge. "What are you doing here? What happened to your face?"
The brunette lowered his head and tried to calm down. He knew, deep down, it would be stupid to yell at the other, but… he couldn't help it. He had lied to him. They weren't really meant for each other, were they? Did Gerard just need a place to stay?
Frank's blood boiled.
He felt a whole tirade ready to come out on the tip of his tongue, but the only thing he managed to do was wave his arms around and let out a "you!"
Gerard looked at Frank, eyes confused and wide. "What?" He leaped from the bed and reached out his hands, lightly touching the injuries. "What happened, Frank?" he asked carefully, gliding his fingertips along a bruise. Frank pushed his hand away, making the black-head give him a weird look.
"I thought you knew. You said you'd know." Gerard gave him a confused expression and opened his mouth to speak, but Frank stopped him. "You told me we were fucking bound together—connected together and all."
Gerard frowned and reached out a hand. "But… we are." His arm shook. "We are, Frank. I just—"
"—you just what, Gerard? What have you done?" The other's eyes widened, and his bottom lip quivered. Frank narrowed his eyes. "You just lied to me, made me look like a fool in front of my friends, and gave me false hope. You actually gave me hope that I wouldn't be alone in this world. That I had you to look forward to when I got home. When I woke up in the morning." Frank shook his head. "I'm stupid."
Gerard looked down. He wiped his eyes before sniffing. His wings seemed to droop. "Frank, believe me, if I knew you were in trouble, I would have helped you."
The brunette shook his head. "No. You wouldn't. You would have done absolutely nothing. You would have sat here, looking and making more useless charcoal drawings." He waved his arms around. "Because we aren't bound together!"
Gerard let out a small whine in his throat. "You're taking this all of out context! There're a lot of different interpretations to being bound to someone." He stared at Frank.
He narrowed his eyes and raised up a hand to rub his eyes. He winced, remembering his face was sore. "I don't care how many interpretations there are. You should have known I was in trouble, in pain—"
"—please, Frank." Gerard looked at the other, eyes wide. He roughly swallowed and took a step towards him. His wings looked like they were shaking, quivering. "We are bound together—meant to be." He held out a hand, lightly touching Frank's neck. "I wouldn't lie to you. Never ever. I love you."
Frank looked at Gerard with wide, confused eyes. He shook his head and opened his mouth to say something, but he was speechless.
"You're bound to me?"
"If you tell me to leave, I will."
Gerard's hand dropped from Frank's neck. He stepped back, wings retracting. "…what?"
Frank closed his eyes. He held his hands to his chest. "I want… I want you to leave."
The noirette stared at the other with eyes filled with hurt. He didn't say anything as he went over to the window and slipped out.
When Frank opened his eyes, the fallen angel was no where in sight.
Chapter 13: Guardian
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Frank went to school the next day as if nothing had happened, as if Gerard hadn't even entered his life. He went to school normally. His whole day was almost normal until it was lunchtime, and Pete, who had a long cut on his cheek, asked to sit with him. Frank didn't object.
If Pete hadn't tried to stop Brian, his injuries could have been a lot worse.
He was the one that saved him—not Gerard. He didn't do anything.
Frank's mother had wanted to know how he had gotten the bruises, and he remained silent. He didn't want her to find out.
Days passed, and Frank's life went on. Before he knew it, it had been a couple weeks since Gerard's flight, and he had no signs or hints that the angel was coming back.
He should have believed him.
The only thing Frank had to remember him by, to let him know it wasn't all a really long dream, was the artwork on his bedroom walls. It seemed that he could only see them, too, for his mother had been in his room a number of times in the past week, and she hadn't said anything—or even acted like she even noticed them on the walls.
He wished the drawings had went away by now. They nagged at it.
Frank never got the chance to tell Gerard he loved him.
Did he love him?
Weeks turned into months, and not even soap could wash away the charcoal etchings. One picture stuck out to Frank to this day: He was crying, and there was a feather at his feet.
He had leaned his head against the wall and scrubbed and scrubbed at it one afternoon, tears pouring down his face. "I made a mistake. I love you so much."
More months passed, and it turned to spring. The sky above Frank's head was a dark color, and it threatened for rain. He hurried home before it had started to pour.
Frank went into his bedroom and headed straight to his bed. He tossed his bag down by his feet and held his head in his hands. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Rain started to lightly hit the window. Frank sniffed and wiped at his eyes. A breeze seemed to whip around him, then. He rubbed his arms and stood up, going over to the window. It was open. Frank furrowed his brow and reached out his hands, closing it. He stared at it for a second before walking over to the bed, sitting back down.
Frank extended an arm to reach into his bag, but paused. He pulled his arm into his chest and bit down on his lip. He felt tears roll down his cheeks again. He took another deep breath and reached out, carefully picking up a long feather. He studied it.
It was white with a black tip.
Frank fell asleep that night, listening to the rain. In his head, he smelled hot chocolate and felt downy feathers. He was protected by charcoal drawings.
Thank you for reading.