So Long and Goodnight

Awake and Unafraid

Here's chapter three, I hope it's enjoyable, and not as boring as I suspect it truly is. Ah, well, at least I can say I tried.

~

Frank picked at his short nails, staring uncomfortably at his slender fingers. His hands had started to sweat rapidly after Gerard and Mikey had went off to the back room to search for an extra large t-shirt for one of the customers, leaving Pete and Frank alone.

Pete's expression suddenly turned wicked. "Hey Frankie." Pete leaned forward, pressing Frank harshly into the checkout counter, Frank's lower back protesting from the abrupt pain it caused.

"Yeah?" Frank tilted his lips upward sarcastically, his eyes glittering hazel as he met Pete's gaze with a cold one.

Pete's eyes darkened suggestively. He bent his head down, his lips lingering over the skin between Frank's eyebrows. Frank's breath caught in his throat.

Pete suddenly smiled a big toothy grin, and Frank looked startled until he realized Pete was not looking at Frank anymore; his intent stare was focused on someone who had just entered the shop.

"Pattycakes!" Frank was stunned, the high pitched squeal that emitted itself from Pete's mouth was unexpected. He didn't think that sound was possible to be made by someone who wasn't a fourteen-year-old fangirl.

A short boy had entered the grunge store, a truckers cap pulled low over his face, shielding his eyes and nose from view. He ducked his head when Pete called out to him, but his barely seeable lips turned up into a pleased smile.

Pete left Frank, the cold, musty air encompassing him as Pete's body heat was ripped mercilessly away. Frank sighed; half out of relief, half from the sudden, harsh bite of violent chills.

Pete threw himself on the boy, who was struggling under the weight of the taller, stockier boy. Pete may have been slim and spindly, but this new boy was tiny, and chubbier. He was about Frank's height, maybe a little taller, possibly.

Pete knocked the blue and white hat off of his head, the boy's eyes widened in horror, and he scrambled to reach the hat that lay upside down on the black tiled floor.

Pete giggled happily, and buried his face is the boy's strawberry blond hair. Well, it would be described as more of a ball of soft fluff; not so much hair but a bundle of cloudy strands of light blond cotton.

Pete breathed deeply, his chest filling up and then deflating, and all the while he clutched Patrick in is him long, tattooed arms.

"Pete." The boy squeaked. "I c-can't breathe"

"Sorry Patrick, I just missed you, haven't seen you since yesterday." Pete grinned a toothy smile, one that five-year-old's were accustomed to, innocent and bright and wide.

Mikey and Gerard walked back into the main area of the store, Mikey having thrown the shirt haphazardly over his shoulder, then proceeded to hand the girl her shirt and check out her items.

Gerard walked with even steps up to where Frank was standing, a ways off from Patrick and Pete.

Frank looked thoughtfully at the two boys embracing and then gestured for Gerard to lean down a little. "Are they t-together?" Frank whispered, trying desperately to smother a stutter. The topic making his stomach twist, not because he was homophobic or because the thought of two boys being together made him squirm, but because Pete himself made him nervous. And apparently talking about him did, too.

But it wasn't a good feeling. It was unnerving, unsettling. Frank didn't like this state of anxiousness much at all.

Gerard cackled. "Pete! I told you! You fawning all over Patrick like that makes you seem like a lovely couple. Frank thought so, too."