Mint and Honey (SLOW UPDATES)

Chapter 8: I'd Be Happier if You Had a Fucking 'Off' Switch

Frank and Gerard both managed to pack at least one bag of essentials each and got on their bicycles. Frank did offer to call a cab so that Gerard wouldn't have to exert himself any more than he already had but Gerard refused entirely and told Frank that he was being unnecessary. They rode up Halstead Street and continued into the dirt road that followed off of the end sidewinder. They pedaled beside each other with wide grins and despite the intense heat in Gerard's system, he couldn't deny just how nice the cool dusk breeze was on his skin. They pulled up to the gate of the Jackson farm and hopped off of their bikes to get in. Gerard pulled the gate open and let Frank pass before he closed it again. They pushed their bikes up the dirt tracks and the white farmhouse came into view from around the corner of the orchard.

"Remember what I said." Frank warned, "I swear to god, Gerard, if you say anything. I will literally-"

"Relax, Frank. I'm good. I'm fine, I won't say anything. And even if I did, Wayne will probably think it's because of my rut and that I'm fucking zonked out of my head." Gerard huffed as he pushed his bike, "Probably am, to be honest."

"Let's just get you to the loft." Frank hoisted his bike over a small dip in the road before they stopped outside of the farmhouse. The white two-storey abode sat at the end of a long dirt path, the white paint on the outside could have used a new coat about ten years prior, but Frank always said that it gave the house a 'rustic charm'. There was a chimney on one side and a wrap-around porch with white fencing. The roof looked like it was once red-painted corrugated iron, but it was now a faded blush. There were trees all along the property lines, the grass was always kept neat, and around the house were flowering shrubs that Wayne cared for as his own children. They saw Wayne sitting on the porch in a chair, with a sheepdog at his feet, he looked up from the history book that he'd been reading, smiling kindly at his friends.

"I could smell you up the road, Greaseball," Wayne greeted and set his book down to get up but Gerard held up both hands.

"I wouldn't do that, DeWayne. I'll jump anything that gets too close." Gerard went pink in the face as Wayne let out a boisterous laugh and put a hand on one of the porch pillars, "I like how he thinks I'm kidding." Gerard turned to Frank who just gave him a small and nervous titter in response.

"Well, me and ol' Winston here," Wayne gestured to his faithful dog that was wearing an old red bandana around his neck, "We set the loft up for you. There's a mattress and some blankets, there's a generator if you want to run anything electrical. We do have a small spare radio and TV if you wanna use 'em."

"Let's just get him in there first and then we'll worry about his entertainment." Frank shoved Gerard's arm and turned him in the direction of the barn.

"Sayonara, homeboy." Gerard gave Wayne a small salute as their bikes were discarded in front of the house and he was steered toward the loft by the omega.

"Don't break my farm, Way!" Wayne yelled after them and Gerard let out a small snicker. He and Frank crossed the small distance to the big wooden barn. It was much larger than the quaint house, a fresh coat of waterproof red had recently been plied to the walls, the trim still a yellowed-white, the roof still covered in debris from the last windstorm, but right now, it was all they had. The entire building housed equipment and hay bales, the animal barn was much further out in the fields away from the house and Gerard was grateful that he didn't have to share quarters with some cows for a week. The bottom floor held all of the tractor parts, the shovels, and anything else that a farmhand could need, the top floor was a simple loft accessible by a ladder. It wasn't like a regular loft that sat above the barn altogether, this loft was built onto the barn like a balcony over one side, still lifted above the ground to keep the storage dry.