I'm Not Okay (I Promise) • Geetrick

27

---Gerard---

Overhead, the birds are tweeting outside my open window.

That's the first thing I hear as they call to each other, telling each other about their night, their food supply. Most likely fighting for nests. I've never studied birds much, though. I have no idea what they say to each other in the early morning when the sun is just coming over the horizon in vibrant colors. I don't know how they communicate through only tweets. Maybe each twitter is a war-cry, and they're in constant conflict with each other, demanding food and shelter. Maybe that's their way of moaning during morning sex. Maybe I should stop thinking about birds.

The next thing that wakes me up is a cold breeze upon my chest, it makes me shiver and pull the blankets around myself as I try to gather as much warmth as I can in the crisp morning air. The fresh scent of fallen leaves floating through the open window, the scent of our season. Autumn. The scent of September, October, and November. The scent that reminds me of The Black Parade. Mikey.

Dad.

The third thing that wakes me up, though, is that there's something in bed with me. It weighs down the blankets, and at first, I'm convinced it's a serial killer about to plunge a knife into my chest. So, as if I actually believe it, my eyes shoot open in fear.

The sunlight in the room is blindingly bright, but once my eyes adjust, I quickly realize I'm not home and, much to my relief, there is no serial killer. Only a beautiful blonde boy beside me. Mouth open slightly in his undisturbed slumber. His green eyes shut and lined with long eyelashes while his hands are spread out across the bed. That's when my mouth curves into a smile and the memories of last night invade my mind.

"Holy shit, Patrick, you're huge,"

"Th-th-thanks,"

I bite my lip as I gaze down, remembering the way he arched his back in pleasure. The way his hands gripped the bedsheets. He did that. I made him do that and oh my god. I gave Patrick a fucking blowjob.

I'm still kind of shocked that he let me do it in the first place, I mean... He's always so shy and embarrassed and troubled, but for some reason, he was okay with me giving him a blowjob. I guess it's because Kevin's never done it to him and... I don't know... I honestly should get more experience with sexual abuse so I can understand him better. So I know what he feels like. How he reacts. Like I could be his personal counselor...

Who am I kidding? I could never do something like that. I'm not experienced. I know nothing of psychology. I would probably make the situation worse. I need to get him to a professional. Someone who could actually help him. It's not healthy for him to keep it in. Even I know bottling feelings isn't good.

His lower half is covered by the blankets, but I know he's not naked. His pants are still on, and it honestly frustrates me a little. He shouldn't be so self-conscious. He's beautiful, and I want to see him all but, I also know he might be purging.

I can't talk to him about that for a little bit. I want him to trust me first or tell me on his own.

Crash!

That's the fourth thing that wakes me up, it's a loud sound of a dining plate, muffled by the door but I already know it came from one of the other people in the house. I don't know who yet but as I check the clock beside the bed, I realize it could be any of them. It reads 8:03 AM and none of them usually sleep too late that I know of.

I hear another crash and Joe's voice, "For fuck's sake, Brendon, get a fucking room!"

I chuckle slightly, Brendon's probably stuffing his hand down Ryan's pants. He's the kind of person to do it.