sin ; frerard

III

Frank coughed, gasping for breath.

He couldn't breathe, he couldn't speak.

It felt like someone was gripping his throat, squeezing, choking him -

"Frank?"

Frank's eyes flew open, and he saw the light of the sun behind the white curtains in Gerard's guest room.

He'd been dreaming. That was it.

He sat up, instinctively feeling his throat for any sign that he'd actually been choked.

Well, everything seemed to be in check.

"Frank?" came Gerard's soft voice again from outside the door. "I'm going to make breakfast, if you want any."

"Uh, that'd be nice," called Frank, wincing as he rubbed his head.

"There are spare clothes in the dresser, if you want to wear something other than what's on you."

"Oh, uh, thanks." Frank stood up, then pushed aside the curtain to look outside. The sun was shining down on the trees. Should be easy enough to call State Farm and get out of there in a few hours.

"Be down in half an hour, then." Frank could hear Gerard's footsteps, growing quieter as they backed away from the door.

Frank stepped into the bathroom and splashed water on his face. He'd never had a dream quite like that, one that felt so terrifyingly real.

Well, this would all be over soon.

✞

Frank decided to explore the kitchen. He'd already traveled downstairs and checked the dining room for Gerard, which proved uneventful.

He stepped warily into the room. It seemed like a normal kitchen - oven, cupboards, refrigerator. Oh, and the wolf on the floor next to the cupboard under the sink.

No sign of Gerard. Was he even there? There were other rooms in the house, but he said he'd be here...

Frank heard a creak resonate from a closed door in the wall, beside the refrigerator. It swung open, and Gerard stepped out from behind it. "Frank!" he said in surprise. "You - startled me." His gaze wandered to Frank's outfit. "You look nice."

"Oh." Frank scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed. All the clothes he'd found in the dresser were stuffy suits and formal clothes. The best thing he'd found were the white collared shirt, black vest, and black pants. And a red tie, because the look didn't feel complete without it. "Is your entire wardrobe goth prom material?"

"When you put it that way..." Gerard's focus dropped to the floor. He had on his own black shirt and red tie, which Frank had to admit looked extremely good on him. "I suppose." He looked back up at Frank, though he didn't make eye contact. Something about his expression sharpened. "You've done your tie wrong. Here..."

Gerard reached up to untie and re-tie it, correctly this time. His hand brushed Frank's neck, and Frank shivered in excitement, feeling more awake than he had two seconds ago.

"There we are," said Gerard, stepping back, oblivious to Frank's reaction. "It's only been twenty minutes since I checked on you... Could you linger a bit longer? You're welcome to stay in the living room."

"Sure." Frank wandered back through the dining room and to the main room.

As he sat down on a loveseat next to the fireplace, it occurred to him how cold and dark it was in there. In his room, it had been bright, because he'd pushed the sheer white curtains aside to let in the sun. But downstairs, every window had its blackout curtains down. And the fireplace had remained unlit.

Frank curled up on the couch and closed his eyes. He didn't remember falling asleep, but was soon unconscious, snoring softly.

A poke to the shoulder sent shockwaves through his body and woke him up immediately. He sat up, muttering that he was just resting his eyes, and looked around for the source of the poke. His eyes finally found Gerard, and he relaxed. "Oh, you. Almost gave me a heart attack."

He could tell Gerard was stifling a laugh, which was a little infuriating, but it was also a little cute, so he let it slide.

"Sorry," apologised Gerard, covering his mouth with one of his pale hands. "Do you like French toast?"

"Oh, you didn't."

But of course, being an overachiever, Gerard did. It wasn't even the kind of shitty stuff Frank would try his hand at sometimes. It tasted like - no, better than Denny's. Just by a bit.

"You," announced Frank through a mouthful of bread, "are a saint, Gerard." He took a long sip of his water.

Gerard smiled, for just a second, in a way that could almost be described as shy. "I try."

"Well." Frank stood up. He'd considered licking the plate, but that was most definitely a bad idea. "I feel like I'm being a burden. Do you want me to wash the dishes or something?"

"Oh, no. I'll do it. And you aren't a burden," said Gerard gently. "I don't mind having an extra person around. I think it keeps me in check."

"Uh, okay." Frank still felt like he should be doing something to thank this guy, but if he didn't want help... "There anything I can for you?"

Gerard smiled at him. "Your company has been enough. You should try to get home. Are you not missed by your friends?"

"Oh, uh..." Frank's friends probably didn't give a damn, or were trying to figure out where his spare key was. "Eh. I'm gonna go try to call insurance now."

"You do that." The other male made shooing motions with his hands. "Go."

"'Kay." Frank left the dining room, almost stepped on the wolf lounging on the stairs, and went back to the guest room.