This Is Our Second Skin (Frerard)

21: Gerard Is Willing To Give His Life To Prove The Existence Of Heat Cells

Frank immediately became obsessed with Gerard's singing voice after their impromptu duet, and even though Gerard was uncomfortable with it at first, he was quickly discovering that all of the things that previously had him shaking with nerves faded away whenever Frank was around, and seeing Frank's face light up every time Gerard would break out into song was more than worth the slight case of jitters that came before opening his mouth.

Gerard had never really thought he had that great of a voice; he knew it was okay, but it wasn't anything special, nothing like Frank's, and even though Gerard had always harbored a secret love of performing which had never died out from his days in middle school, it had been so long since anyone had encouraged him, since anyone had actually wanted to listen to him, but Gerard found himself liking the newfound attention from Frank, and as long as his audience only consisted of his boyfriend, Gerard didn't mind loosening up and letting Frank hear something that had once been so private for him.

Frank never pushed Gerard though, it was like he could tap into whatever frequency that Gerard's mind projected on, and he knew exactly when to back off, and when to nudge him forward slightly. Frank instantly sensed that Gerard was becoming nervous when he attempted to get him to continue singing that first day, so he had changed tactics instead, continuing their spur of the moment make out session until Gerard's anxiety had ebbed completely.

But in little ways, Frank motivated Gerard to keep singing, switching to songs that Frank knew Gerard took a liking to when he had his guitar out, making it almost impossible for Gerard to keep his lips pressed together, no matter how stubborn he was, and just like wearing skirts, it got easier each time, and before long, Gerard gave in to Frank's subtle hints, allowing his voice to escape outside of the confines of his shower.

Gerard was well aware that this was just another way Frank was trying to help him, and it was working, just like everything Frank did. Even though this had to do with his voice, and not his physical appearance or his gender identity, it was still a way to encourage Gerard to love himself more, and it didn't take Gerard long to become convinced that he was a halfway decent singer, and he wasn't anywhere near as ashamed of his hidden hobby as he had been a few months ago.

But as much as Gerard enjoyed singing, it was nothing compared to singing with Frank; he even found himself asking Frank to join him on numerous occasions, his ears craving the melding of their contrasting tones, the way they seemed to overlap perfectly, the beauty produced from this union much more wonderful than anything Gerard could ever create on his own.

Gerard became unnaturally inspired by this sudden addition of music into his life, the notes and melodies following him home where he would transpose them onto a different medium. He began working on a new set of paintings, the focus being Frank's original works, which Gerard had made Frank play for him numerous times, trying his best to convey the story, and the sorrow, and the passion behind Frank's words with paint. He hadn't shown Frank his most recent project yet, but he was planning on doing so as soon as he was finished.

Gerard had never been so driven to create before, and even though his work was half started at best, he could already tell that it was going to be his best series yet, and they might even sell for a good amount of money if he managed to find a show, not that he could ever consider parting with them, this was something that was going to stay in-between him and Frank, no matter how much Gerard could use the extra cash.

The urge to have his fingers around a paintbrush had gripped Gerard especially strong today, work had dragged on torturously long as he counted down the minutes until he could return to his beloved creations. Gerard had instantly rushed to his canvases as soon as he had gotten home, too excited about continuing his project to bother changing out of his work clothes, or to check his phone, or anything like that, choosing instead to lose himself in the colors, and the strokes, and the rush he got when inspiration struck him this heavily.