Call of the Siren » Frerard

SEVEN [CONT.]

VII: it's getting harder and harder to breathe, the more you're touching, touching me [CONT.]

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A WEEK LATER...

[smut warning. ps; safe sex is important!! use a condom, guys >:(]

Frank was sat on his bed, phone in hand as anxious wasps stung at his gut once more. His hands were sweaty, throat gulping as he read the text from Gerard. Over and over and over.

Come over, it read. Simple, blunt, straight to the point. That wasn't the part that scared Frank, that was making his fingers curl in anticipation. The; My parents are out of town, was what had jolted him.

It was Friday afternoon, a whole weekend in front of Frank -- yet, he couldn't even bring himself to think of how to respond to this simple text. A week, it had been, and they still hadn't quite talked of that night down on the dock. The strain was hanging by a literal thread between them, drawing them together as the tension threatened to let it snap at any moment. To explode.

Frank swallowed big, glancing at his shoes on the floor before biting his lip -- thumbs moving atop the screen. ok, He finally replied. He had a feeling that this was only leading to one thing, as much as it terrified him.

And so, it was set, alerting his mother, and swallowing down the nerves still choking him up. He'd been smart, choosing to snag a quick shower first -- ensuring that he was in clean clothes before he tugged on his shoes. His entire body was racketing at the awaiting moments to come, walking the short distance to the Way household next door.

Pencey was still wheeled behind him, his feet feeling heavy as he reached his fist to knock on the door -- rocking back on his heels before gazing around shortly. It had only been a short stretch before the door was opening, revealing a seemingly just as nervous Gerard -- crooked smile on his lips as he stepped aside to allow Frank to step in.

The atmosphere was tense, the entire house far too quiet with the absence of parental guardians -- filling the two with some sort of feeling that still, neither could quite pinpoint. Like mischief, flitting around as if it were a spare breeze falling from the vents scattered around.

"Hey," Gerard finally greeted, dressed in simple jeans and a black t-shirt, tucked loosely into his jeans -- baggy, yet tight all at once as Frank's gaze fell shortly over him.

"Hey," Frank replied, not quite surprised to see that Gerard's house wasn't that far off from Frank's. Spare the choice of wall coloring and decor, it had the same basic layout -- the two boys standing in the foyer as they were unsure of where to go next.

It was early evening, with five o'clock half past them already, Gerard tearing his gaze from his shoes to look to Frank. Carefully, he took his hesitant hand and held it to Frank's -- the latter looking over with his eyes wide, cheeks red and heart pounding.

"Do you-- do you want to go up?" Gerard asked, Frank grateful that he wasn't the only one of the two to be drowning in the anxious edge sharp between them.

Frank only hesitated for a second before letting out a tiny breath, nodding in a short daze. He let his fingers tangle with Gerard's, wrapped together as the latter sent him a little assuring squeeze. Frank was near about to hyperventilate, though he was veiling it well. His cheeks, though -- he could feel them melting beneath the red blush upon them, embarrassed beyond belief at how horridly his body reacted to this all.

He and Gerard both seemed to know full well of what was likely to happen if they allowed themselves to hide away upstairs. Yet, at the same time, didn't dare ask whether it was what they thought it was. Frank was gulping loud, gut suddenly lurching all at once as he realized the entirety of what he was doing. He was alone in a whole house with a boy, a boy who he'd happened to make out with just a few days ago -- a boy who was leading him up to his bedroom. Holy fucking shit, what was he doing?