The Majesty of Choice

Prolonged

Gerard is awoken earlier than he would like to be, by Frank, which he supposes makes it slightly more okay. Frank is telling him something, though Gerard is still between the realm of asleep and awake, so he doesn't hear any of it at all.

He's very much aware of Frank getting up though, because it takes away all of the warmth in Gerard's entire body, or at least, that's how it feels. Gerard hadn't realized it until now, but he'd been pressed up against Frank, with Frank's chest against his back, and it was quite possibly the most comfortable thing he's yet to experience in his life until Frank decided to ruin it by standing up.

"Where are you going?" Gerard asks groggily. He's still definitely not awake, and he's having trouble comprehending that he's alive, because it's too early in the morning for this shit. Gerard hasn't even decided that he exists as a human yet; it's too damn early.

"I told you," Frank says, "we've got to head out, we have a whole day of riding ahead of us."

"Oh," Gerard says, sounding sad. He had hoped that he'd be able to convince Frank to come back and that they could sleep a little while longer. But he supposes that it's his own fault they're leaving this early.

Today isn't a big day, nor is tomorrow, but the day after, that's the one Gerard's got to look forward to. Even then, he's just going to be accessing records. He'll be able to find out where Brendon lives. Once he knows that, he'll travel however far he needs to go. Anything to bring him top Brendon.

And once he finds Brendon, he's free.

It's so early in the morning that Gerard can't even register why his curse is that big of a deal, because sleep is just way more important than some stupid old curse, it's not that big of a deal. It's like if the building were on fire, like yeah he knows he'll die and that would suck, but sleep is just too much fun to bother not dying. Except if he could convince Frank to come back to bed, he would get to have Frank, and to have Frank is perfect.

"Gerard, get out of bed!" Frank groans after a few minutes pass and Gerard still hasn't made the attempt to so much as move let alone get up. And that's when Gerard feels all the reasons for why he hates the curse come flooding back to him.

No more orders. No more doing what you're told. No more life that's not your own. Gerard could hear people telling him to be quiet and he could scream in their fucking face. When someone tells him to do something, he can tell them to go to hell.

And after that, well the possibilities are endless. He could go back home. He could run away with Ray and Patrick in his tow. He can scour the country for someone to help Mikey. He can tell his stepsisters to eat shit. Maybe he could stay with Frank a little while, learn the castle, learn the Prince. He could see the King, the real King, the King Frank will become.

Frank's order pulls Gerard out of bed, but not without a fair share of groaning and complaining as Frank throws a change of clothes at him. Someday he'll have the chance to sleep in until he damn well wants.

Gerard, still feels his eyes heavy with sleep, with his body aching from the loss of the sheets and mattress, finds himself quite suddenly pulled into alertness when Frank starts undressing right before Gerard's very eyes. He doesn't mean to stare, he never in his life has meant to stare at Frank, but he can't fucking help it.

Just like he'd done last night, Frank pulls his shirt off and then searches around in his bag for a shirt to change into, as he hadn't already grabbed one so now Gerard is left with this solid minute of just gawking at a shirtless Frank.

The ink that scrawls Frank back is easier to view now. They are patterns, scripts, flowers; timeless and brilliant. The black ink is vivid, seeming to Gerard to be fresh, but Gerard's never seen any tattoos up close before, so he doesn't have anything to compare these to.