A Bullet Through A Flock Of Doves

Eleven - And Without You Is How I Disappear

Frank wasn't bleeding.

That was a very new thing for him these days, but sure enough, when he woke up in his bed, Gerard at his back, there were no fresh wounds on his body, not even the tiniest bruise or smallest fingernail scratch. Gerard had, for some reason, neglected to hurt him, and certainly not on accident. His heart leaped in his chest, terrified that Gerard was saving him up for something somehow worse than what had happened to him before.

They had not said anything last night, which made Frank worry that Gerard was angry at him. Still...he was sleeping now, and was no danger to anybody. Frank tipped his head back so that it rested against Gerard's shoulder, and Gerard hummed in reply, one of his arms wrapping around Frank to flatten his hand against Frank's heart, as though to feel its beat. Frank shifted, and his fingers curled.

He would never understand why Gerard had such an aversion to snuggling but never minded when he and Frank slept in the same bed like this. The bunk bed was too crowded for them not to spoon like this, but Gerard had a perfectly good top bunk.

Still, Frank wasn't complaining. He closed his eyes and tucked his head into the crook of Gerard's neck, soft black hair tickling his nose.

xoxoxo

Frank startled awake again at the wake-up sirens, and Gerard cursed behind him, sounding distinctly annoyed, which was never good. The hand disappeared from his chest and Gerard mumbled something about not sleeping naked anymore before crawling out of the bunk and dressing, glaring at Frank and prompting him to do the same. Damn, Gerard from last night really was gone. Whatever, Frank could deal with it.

He would have to deal with no Gerard at all by the end of the month, so he might as well start now. Tossing his head, he followed suit and skulked back to his bunk, tucking his knees to his chin and tracing patterns in the scratchy sheets.

"I suppose I can't ask about last night?"

Gerard looked up sharply. "Suppose you could. What would you say?"

Frank blinked, his attention abruptly diverted. "It...I don't know." What am I supposed to say? he thought desperately.

"Hm," was all Gerard gave him, turning away and starting up the ladder to his bunk.

Frank threw up his hands. "Hm? That's all you're gonna say?"

Gerard's head peeked out from above him. "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know, maybe whether or not you liked it?"

Gerard snorted. "I hated it, obviously. The orgasm was completely and utterly faked. Happy?"

Frank narrowed his eyes. "Fine, be a bastard."

"Why? Did you like it, Frankie dear?" Gerard's eyes were definitely dangerous now. "Did you enjoy not being slammed against the wall and not being hurt for once? Do you wish I would do that again?"

"Shut up," Frank muttered. He hated their stupid arguments. He hated Gerard's stupid power complex.

"You may think you do, but I know better," Gerard scoffed, leaning down a little. Frank hoped he would fall off and crack his skull open. "I know you'd much rather take it rough. That's what you've been doing all these years, after all."

"Fuck you!" Frank snapped, flushed with anger. "I did that so they wouldn't fucking murder me in my sleep! Not because...why the hell would you suggest that I liked them doing that to me? Fucking dirty men, prisoners who might have come in here for rape and mass murder and torture and who knows what the fuck else! I would never choose to sleep with them! And guess what, Gerard? You're just another one of them, and they all died!"