FUCKER

June 24, 2018

He'd become an early riser. Over the years working solely on his comics, without a worry of tour dates, hotel rooms and rehearsals. Nothing but deadlines looming over his head. He'd discovered that waking up before anyone else, brought with it a calmness. A lack of urgency that soothed his anxiety. It gave him more time with himself, alone, in solitude.

He was used to waking up as early as between 4:30 - 5am most days. Getting that first cup of coffee in his system as he met new and interesting creepy crawlies in the garden before the rest of the house rose from their slumber and it was time for breakfast and taking Bandit to school.

Before he opened his eyes, his mind was already imagining all these things he had to do. The routine of it all, running through his mind as he waited for his alarm to go off.

After a couple more minutes it bothered him that nothing was ringing. Nothing telling him it's time. Confusion set in as his eyes peeled open and didn't quite recognise his surroundings. Pure white sheets covered what he was now fully aware was his own naked body.

Instead of the long black hair of his wife, was the wisp of blond strands. Gerard's eyes already tracing the sharp edges that is Bert's body. The jawline, into his neck, over his shoulder, his hip bone. He looked so clean. With his eyes closed like that, you would never say he was so fully capable of detroying you. With his eyes closed like that, you would think he's an angel. Gerard looked at him as he hadn't allowed himself to since stepping in there. Just every single detail. The shape of his ear. The way his hair formed around it. All the lines of his face, from his brow to the corners of his mouth and every little freckle that were either new or that he never noticed before. The extensive layer of fine white hairs over his body, that you would only see if you were close enough to feel against the tip of your nose when kissing his spine or up his arm.

All this was still okay. It was still Gerard's alone time. Only instead of observing the life among the aloe plants, it was the life that lay next to him in bed. The small-figured wolf in sheep's clothing. Angelic, sure, but once those eyes open... once they open, Gerard knew what they provoked. Chaos, danger, all the things too much as well as never enough. Gerard knew this. But every second longer it took for those eyes to open, the more desperate Gerard felt for that rush.

He could of course wake him up himself. But what would be the fun in that? If Gerard woke him up then it wouldn't be natural. It wouldn't be Bert's soul calling to be woken. It would be forced.

That's not to say that Gerard has never woken Bert up. Or that rousing him with kisses and a hardon would be a bad thing. It's just that this morning, he wanted to watch every stage of Bert coming to consciousness. Everything they had done there since he arrived yesterday, has all been on their own individual terms. No one pushed for anything, no one expected anything more than what the other was willing to offer. Gerard wanted to keep with that theme.

So instead, Gerard quietly and carefully climbed out of bed, sneaking out the bedroom area to the bathroom, shaking his head at himself cause yeah, he stopped and got condoms but failed to bring a toothbrush?

Though he felt no guilt at all grabbing the brush that was already there and applying toothpaste. The toothpaste was harsher than what he had made himself used to, as was the brush, but he survived it. It had been a while since seeing blood between the foam but there he was, looking at it, wanting to run his finger through it but it was just one of those thoughts you only allow yourself because you know you won't actually do it. Like the kiss you would never steal.

Gerard shook the thought from his mind as he wrinced his mouth. Could he wake up like this every morning for the rest of his life? Without the terrible toothpaste of course, but like this, with that human being right there in a bed near him? What would happen if he said yes? What would that even look like? And what would the alternative look like? Meeting up in secret to link fingers and curl up against each other?

Gerard bit his lip thinking about it - imagining it as he peered around the bathroom door into the bedroom again, catching a glimps of Bert's body graced by those white sheets. Jesus maybe. Gerard's chest tightened just looking at him. Understanding what had happened here, what may still happen and what wove this together. There are no fucking answers. None. All there is is his skin. All there is is how his skin makes Gerard feels. And the knowledge that since he'd first touched him the night before... the drug had set in and now the only way to silence the voices in his head, would be to make sure that he would always be able to touch him. 

But not yet.

Gerard climbed back into bed and just looked at him. For the longest time, he just kept his eyes wondering over everything exposed and allowing his imagination and memory to fill in the areas covered.

By the time his gaze moved back up to his face, bright blue eyes were staring back. "Hey..."

Gerard took a sharp breath,"Hi." and smiled shyly back.

Bert quietly moved closer, seeking physical connection, nothing but their foreheads touching. "You were staring."

Gerard blushed a little, "I was."

Noting the reaction, Bert somehow got his sleepy brow to raise in a weak attemot to be cheeky, "But no touching?"

Gerard quietly shook his head. "Didn't wanna disturb you."

Bert creeps closer a little more, bringing his knees in slightly and now joining their toes, "Disturb me."