Pete
April 18th
"Hey, Fagtrick, are you and your friends skipping today? Cause if you are, I'll cover for you and call your school."
Is what I woke up to.
Gerard and Frank, limbs tangled together on the floor. Frank's head on Gerard's chest, but they both seemed to have been woke up too.
Patrick is already sitting at his desk and reading. He looks annoyed at Darrin.
"Thanks, Darrin. That would be great." He hisses.
"Rad, Stump."
He looks at Gerard and Frank, then to me. And then back at them. Then back at me.
"Hey, I'm Darrin...nice to see you Gerard." He says.
"And to you as well..." Gerard sleepily mutters.
I'm assuming Gerard has slept over here before.
"Who are you two?" Darin asks.
Patrick groans.
"Frank." Gerard points at the half awake Frank on him.
"Oh! Right, Patrick has talk about him before. You and him are like," he makes a hand motion, "right?"
"Yup," Gerard growls, "we're dating too."
Darin nods, "and you?"
He looks at me.
"Uh, I'm Pete."
"Uh, hi, Pete." He mocks me.
I make an angered, annoyed face.
"Darrin..." Patrick mumbles.
"Okay, fine! I'll leave you boys alone!" Darrin stops at the door and turns around, "liquor is in the cabinets in the kitchen, fags—ha! Get it...cause you're gay-"
"Stop." Patrick says.
"Anyway, fags are on the counter, and I'm going to brunch at ihop. I think I might get some today-"
"STOP." Patrick repeats.
"Okay, Okay," Darin chuckles, "I'll leave. Bye, guys."
And he slips out of the room, and we all wait to speak until we here the 'click' of the front door closing.
"That's what I have to live with...I'm honestly surprised he's not utterly and painfully hungover...I guess I wears off after so long..." Patrick speaks softly.
I sit up and hop off his bed. Gerard shakes Frank, who in turn stirs and, with his eyes still closed, grabs onto Gerard's shirt so tight his knuckles turn white.
I stand behind Patrick, resting my head on his shoulder. I kiss lightly on his neck, and up to behind his ear. He laughs lightly.
"What?" I lick his cheek.
"Egh!" He rubs away my saliva, "Pete, that's gross! What the hell??"
I chuckle, "Ur Gay."
He snorts, "is that your new comeback?"
"I guess so."
Gerard whispers to Frank. Frank stirs more violently and starts crawling as Gerard's arm, making scared noises.
"Frankie..." Gerard shakes him.
"Nononono-"
"Hey...Frank." He says.
Frank suddenly jolts awake and wraps himself around Gerard. He's shaking.
"Frank, you okay?" I ask.
"Which one?" Gerard sits up with Frank still on him.
"G-Greyson..." He mutters.
Patrick frowns, pulling me into the hallway. Gerard nods at him, and Patrick nods back.
Patrick holds my hands leads me to the kitchen.
He sits on the counters and pulls me to stand in between his legs. I laugh, and we kiss.
"Frank gets nightmares."
"Mhmm..." I kiss him more.
We pull back.
"He has this thing where he dreams about either this demon Greyson killing him, Gerard dying, or being...Uh...touched...and, like,"
He stops.
"Touched?" I whisper.
Patrick nods, "he was when was really young...by his uncle. It's sensitive..."
I frown, brushing his hair behind his ear.
"That's why he's never...And this is gonna sound dumb," he breathes out, "Gerard told me that Frank's never bottomed because of...being raped. It triggers a sort of ptsd."
"How old was he when this happened?" I ask.
"12." He responded.
"That wasn't long ago at all...only a few years ago..." I sigh.
"Yeah."
———
Pill bottles have always been something I find surprisingly interesting.
Most are orange, white backgrounds and black writing. Small capsules of possible getting better or so much fucking worse.
Addictive, and tough.
Prescription pills can be good though, but it's just when they get out of hand that problems arise.
Like my old friend Bert (and apparently Gerard's old 'friend' as well) who passed cause of the shit. Opioid crisis. Real damn thing.
Everyone's surrounded by it. Everyone.
I stare at the bottles in Patrick's medicine cabinet in the bathroom. One pill bottle and all the pain washes away.
Maybe I could see Travie again.
But I never really believed in the afterlife, anyway. It's not worth it, anything.
I close the cabinet and wash my hands. I open the bathroom door and trudge back to Patrick's room.
What I find is Gerard and Frank, now on Patrick's bed, arms wrapped around each other. Frank seems better since he woke up, but there's bags under his eyes.
Patrick's at his desk. He's writing something.
The title 'Homesick at Space camp' on the page.
I snort, and he turns to face me—violently flipping the paper over. I pretend that didn't see anything.
"Ugh, what time is it. I'm hungry." Gerard groan.
"Agreed." Frank mutters.
Patrick throws his notebook away, and looks at his phone.
"It's like 3." He says, "we have frozen pizza?"
"Fucking deal." Gerard moans.
"Alright," Patrick walks past me and out the door, "I'm on it, boys."
