So Long, Not Goodnight

Chapter Twelve

All Frank was focused on was alleviating Gerard's guilt that was so heavy Frank could see him physically crouched beneath it's weight, his confidence and courage that he exhibited before sucked dry from these memories that were muddied up from the deep depths of where he tried to hide them in the recesses of his thoughts. Post traumatic stress, from what Frank read up about, could be triggered from numerous events; it could be from hearing a small sound to a realistic dream. In this coincidence, Gerard seemed to be in a state of hypnagogia, only he hadn't been asleep prior. Maybe he was so relaxed from their pleasures that it could have triggered? Frank wasn't a psychologist, but maybe, just maybe, that was what happened. There was always a chance that Gerard was hallucinating. Frank read about how even the mildest of hallucinations could terrify their victim. Poor Gee, Frank kept thinking to himself as he softly stared into his lovers' eyes, how could anyone do this to you? 

There were two demons fighting inside of Gerard at that moment. One wanted him to play out that night over and over and consider all the things that he had done wrong and all the things that he could have done instead of what he had done. The other was trying to forget that pain and bleed himself dry with Frank's blade and give himself entirely to him; to let Frank take it all and maybe, in return, Gerard would feel something other than this hefty guilt and regret for once in ten years. Was it selfish? To want to feel purged of your sins even if you may not deserve it? Was it punishment enough to carry that physical corpse and this memory of all that he did wrong? It felt enough but barely scratching the surface at the same time. He should be held in this purgatory for eternity if that would make things right, even though, deep down, he didn't feel like it would ever be enough; an eternal black hole.

There was a slash of lightening that ripped both of them out of their thoughts and back into each other's eyes. Their shared stares locked them in a statuesque state. All either of them could think of was freeing the other; Frank from remorse and Gerard from himself. They both wondered if things would be alright, but Frank was determined to. As thoughts and blood raced, Frank leaned into Gerard and sought solace. 

They kissed so hard, they almost tore that fragile skin off with their persistence. The cuffs of Gerard's shirt remains felt like lead as he lifted his hands to Frank's face, pulling him closer. He was escape, he was freedom, he was pleasure in this existence of pain. The storm outside played a symphony for them which their breathing orchestrated. Frank took Gerard's hands into his own and twisted their fingers together and gripped tight as he made his way down, sucking sweet skin with the smoky ash and the saltiness of sweat; it was absolutely delicious. The lower he got, Gerard squeezed his stubby fingernails into the tender flesh of the backs of Frank's tattooed hands. Past clavicle, breastbone, and naval, Frank continued until he reached waistband. He smattered the horizon of skin in small kisses and broke his fingers free from Gerard's grip to shrug off his shirt, keeping his lover beneath him as he did. Gerard leaned back, exposing his neck to the moonlight doused in red. Frank watched as Gerard panted and the muscles and veins in his neck danced under the moonlight. He too wanted to join in this waltz or foxtrot. Their naked torsos met as Frank leaned into that temptation and pulled in as much as he could into his mouth and bit down softly while still trying to pull more into his mouth. He could feel blood pulsing beneath those soft layers of organ and tissue, feeling the life continuing beneath. Letting go slowly, Frank scraped his bottom teeth a bit harsher and sawed mildly back and forth until there was more warmth quietly dripping into his mouth. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he felt Gerard bleed into him; a slow drip. There was a natural instinct to pull more, like a baby at their mother's nipple. 

Gerard felt lightheaded as Frank nursed at his collar. It was as if Gerard was back hundreds of years and so feverish and the good doctor bled him and he could feel all that bad blood expelled from his body. "Please," Gerard begged. "Bleed me dry, Frankie."