Our Foundations from Decay

Frank POV 48

I awoke with damp eyes and sweaty skin, bare chest pressed into Gerard's back. It was a surreal place to be; cloudy skies and lavender mornings, nothing but the sound of soft rain echoing off the tin roof.
So peaceful.

Rearranging my thoughts, I began summarising everything that happened last night— the good, the bad, and the ugly. My memories were a haze, gritty and dirty in all the right ways.

Hot, horny and fucking delicious.

Gerard's pale skin flashed through my every thought like there was no room for anything else, taking up space that I didn't even know existed. I knew instantly that the way he moved beneath me, bothered and fidgety and desperate for contact, would become a new fantasy for the rest of my life.

"Fucking hell," I grunted under my breath, moving my hand between my thighs before realising that I wasn't alone; and that it would probably be creepy to jerk off right behind him. "Baby, you awake?"

Gerard let out a soft grumble, wriggling around as he rolled over to face me.
"Yeah Frankie, I'm awake." Warm lips met my own and I pulled him close, almost laughing when he tried to speak. "Mmmf Mif Muny."

"You're hungry?" I translated, letting myself bite down on his neck. "Trust me, I'm hungry too."

My boyfriend melted into me for a moment before gaining his senses, moving his neck further away-- yet only giving me more room to bite.

"Baby, you're gonna gnaw it all off." He sounded stern, but it was easy to notice the growing hardness in his thin pajama pants, especially with me pressed right up next to him. "I want pie, but like, chocolate pie. No fruit pie."

"Alright." Fighting against all my senses I shuffled away from him, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.

My feet didn't quite reach the floor.

Dammit.

Gerard moved to sit next to me, and only then did I notice the fact that he was still shirtless-- smooth planes of blushing skin all on show, glowing a hazy shade of ivory.

Before I could even blink, my fingers were caressing his chest, tracing over his collarbones and down to his stomach. He was so warm, so real, and so goddamn perfect I felt like throwing up, even if it would gross him out; although Gerard seemed like the sort of freak who would like that stuff.

"You're fucking gorgeous." I muttered, dragging my eyes over every inch of him "Baby, you don't even know how crazy you drive me."

My boyfriend pouted his lips, looking down like a guilty dog. "Last night felt good. I'd... I'd like to do that again? But with, um, less clothes. Preferably."

Aww.

"Just say you want to bone me, Gee." I pinched the tip of his nose, grinning at the way it scrunched up like a bunny tail. "There's nothing to be ashamed of."

Gerard grunted and shot up from the bed, rushing off to the bathroom. "Go get ready!"

His command didn't make it to my brain and I slumped down instead, collapsing onto the mattress with a dull thump.

There was so much to do. We were running out of money, food, fuel, clothes, everything. We'd need to visit a laundromat, or maybe a frathouse-- and just hope that they'd be a sanctum for a pair of runaway teens like us.

I'd never been afraid before. Not really, anyway. The usual things like bugs of heights never really got to me, not like they did for other kids (Like that pussy Mikey Way), and horror movies always seemed funny, rather than scary. Once you saw how fake and tacky the props looked, or how sticky the blood was, the immersion popped like a bottle of fizzy; nonsense bubbling over its edges and leaking onto my idea of reality. It protected me when I needed it, yet clogged up some of the most important things that held humans together.