Frank shivered and stretched his fingers out again, opening his palm up, silently encouraging. He was such a fucking sucker for Gerard, he couldn't help himself even though he could see the crash waiting for him on the other side. Gerard stroked two fingertips across his palm this time, then down to the tip of his little finger, which Frank crooked to catch his fingers and keep him there. Frank was barely breathing now, his eyes tight shut despite the dark, his whole focus narrowed down to the touch of Gerard's fingers against his.
He felt Gerard press the pad of his thumb into the center of Frank's palm; press his ragged nails between Frank's knuckles, trace gently over the inside of Frank's wrist. Every touch was magnified a thousand percent by the dark and the danger and the closeness; when Gerard opened his own palm and pressed it flush against Frank's, Frank barely bit back a gasp, he couldn't help it, he felt it all the way down to his toes. Gerard swallowed audibly and laced his fingers through Frank's, squeezing and then not letting go, so that they were holding hands in the dark.
Frank was going crazy inside; he couldn't stop hearing Gerard's words in his head, what he'd said outside about maybe leaving the priesthood, the way he'd looked at Frank afterwards. Don't, he told himself, stamping down furiously on that train of thought. Gerard was just scared and confused and needed someone to hold onto, and if that was what Frank could be for him, well, the pathetic truth was that Frank would take whatever he could get.
He turned his face, slightly, just to try and get some precious air into his lungs, but Gerard followed, the point of his nose tucked against Frank's ear, the faint scratch of stubble against Frank's cheek.
"Frankie," he whispered, and Frank felt Gerard's lips moving against his skin.
"I'm here," he whispered back, and then there was the sound of something shifting, it was the panels in the walls, and Frank was man enough to admit he clutched at Gerard a little, readying himself to jump out and start beating somebody's face in if necessary.
The door clunked loudly, then swung open, letting light and fresh air into the small space, and Craig beamed at them, reaching in to wrap long hands around their shoulders and pull them out into the study before they had time to do more than blink awkwardly at each other and hurriedly disentangle their hands.
"Ray is so amazing!" he said, already bounding back towards the doorway. "You have to come see this!"
"We used the same spell that I did at the show," Ray explained when they got downstairs. Outside the windows, Frank could see the same wall of cold, blue flame, casting a weird, sickly light on everything inside. "Luckily I still had some vials made up. But it'll only hold for so long."
"It's on fire!" Craig said wonderingly, his nose practically pressing against the glass. "But nothing's burning up!"
"What's Plan B?" said Frank.
Ray pointed to a baggie containing what looked like moss. "Mikey, take pinches of that and place them in a circle around the symbol, ok?"
Frank craned over Mikey's shoulder to see that he'd used colored sand to make a picture of the symbol they all had tattooed on themselves. Mikey followed Ray's directions, making a circle around it. "What next?"
"Next we sprinkle with Holy Water," Ray jerked his chin towards a bottle standing off to the side. Mikey grabbed it and uncapped it. "And Gerard, if you want to do the honors?"
Gerard was staring out of the window, seemingly not listening.
"Gee," said Bob. "Latin time, you're up."
"Hmm?" Gerard said vaguely, then blinked, shaking himself. "Oh! Right."
Mikey handed him a book, already open at the right page.
