All The Angels (Frerard)

Chapter 5: Hand in Mine

it'sa me sorry im stupid but here i am lmao, ur welcome for finally working up the motivation to continue this shit

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Ch.5

"I want you to know how much better I felt after we hung out the other day," Frank's muffled voice expressed from the receiver of Gerard's home phone. "I slept better that night than I have in a long time."

Gerard felt a blush rise in his cheeks as he thought about their cemetery excursion from two days earlier. "I felt really good too," he said quietly, before exclaiming," I mean, not just because we um, uh-"

Frank interjected with a nervous chuckle, before allowing Gerard to continue.

"What I mean to say is," he ventured, "is that it felt really nice to be able to talk to someone. I don't really...interact with people too often, except for Mikey I guess."

"Well," Frank said, his cheeks filling up with that same pink warmth, "I'd love to do something like that again."

"Me too," Gerard's warm voice filled with desperate longing emanated from Frank's beaten and scratched mobile phone.

"You wanna maybe do something this weekend?" Frank ventured, hoping that he wasn't being to pushy or quick. "I know this really good vegan place down by the square."

Gerard felt a warm tingling fill up his stomach at the thought of seeing Frank again, before a cold dismay took its place when he realized he would have to eat in front of Frank.

"I...that sounds really nice," Gerard mustered up, deciding that he'd find a way to get around the food when the time came, wanting so desperately to see Frank again. "Maybe I can pick you up at around noon? I know this really good art museum that we could maybe check out after lunch!"

Frank smiles, the safety of his dark room hiding his giddiness. "Yeah man, that sounds awesome. I can't wait to see ya again."

"Same man, it's gonna be great," Gerard responded, before glancing at the bright red numbers displayed on his bedside clock. "Hey man, it's getting kinda late. I'll see you at school tomorrow though, right?"

Frank wanted to protest, in fact, he wanted to stay up talking all night in order to distract himself from the reality of the home in which he lived, but he knew that they both needed their sleep. "Okay Gee, I'll see ya then. Goodnight," he ended with a soft longing, to which Gerard responded with that same tone, before the two finally hung up.

Now Frank was left to look around the cold darkness of his small bedroom. He heard a muffled argument from the lower level of him, and after hearing his name mentioned, chose to drown it out with Xanax and a music session.

After popping a few bars in his mouth, dry swallowing with a pained look on his face as the rough pills scraped against his dry esophagus, he picked up his beaten up Fender, one of many thrifted guitars he possessed, and positioned it on his lap.

He played for only a few moments, before the drugs he ingested began to take effect, when he then submitted to them, falling back horizontally across his small, creaky mattress, and into a deep, dreamless sleep.

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Saturday couldn't come soon enough for the two young men, and for the first time in Gerard's life, he found himself distracted in school. Usually he hyper-fixated on his grades, and how they would effect his GPA, and therefore his future, etc etc, but the only thing he could think of for the few days leading up to Saturday, was Frank.

Frank's face. Frank's hands. Frank's voice. Frank's body.

He couldn't stop thinking about how he felt when frank touched him; when they were in the cemetery together, the New Jersey sunset casting shadows of graves and angels on the pale skin of the two boys, Frank's warm hands all over his cold body.