I woke up at 2am with a deep, burning desire to be touched. Not sexually, of course – the thought of that made me want to throw up. I just needed Gerard's arms around me, but he was facing away from me, his body curled up. I chewed my lip and shuffled towards him, wrapping my arms lightly around his waist.
"Gee?" I said softly. As soon as I had, I wished I hadn't. I didn't deserve to touch him after what I did. I made to move away, when he turned over slowly, his eyes half-open and squinting from sleep.
"What's up baby?" he said, his voice groggy.
"Hold me." I whimpered, dangerously close to tears. He held his arms out to me and I snuggled close to him, loving the feeling of being so close to him. Despite what I'd done, I couldn't help but feel safe in his warm, tight embrace.
"Are you okay?" he asked. I shook my head and buried my face in his chest, letting the first of my tears fall onto his skin. He tightened his arms around me, kissing the top of my head.
"I'm so sorry. I...I don't deserve you." I stammered.
"What? Don't be stupid, Frank." He sighed, pressing more kisses to my temples.
"I'm a slut." I said bluntly.
"No you're not."
"Yes I am. You said it yourself in your classroom that one time...all I want is a fuck..."
"Fuck, Frank, I said that like, almost 8 months ago. I didn't even mean it. What the fuck?"
"Please, don't yell at me." I whimpered, feeling weak. I hated feeling so vulnerable, but I couldn't get the image of Bert's hands on me out of my head. I pictured the way he trapped me, leered at me, and the way I came in my pants, just like the slut he told me I was. Gerard was sick, waiting at home for me to make him feel better, and I was out getting a handjob from his ex. I was truly despicable. I snuggled deeper into his arms, hoping he could shield me from what I'd done to him.
"I can't believe you. One minute you're fine, and the next you don't want me near you, and you're talking all this bullshit, and then you want me to hug you, but you're still putting yourself down...I don't understand. Just explain to me what's going on."
"I can't."
"I thought we told each other everything. No lies, remember?"
"Not this. Not yet."
"God, you're killing me, Frank. Honestly, you're going to drive me into a damn early grave." He said, but he still held me close to him. I sobbed softly, but didn't reply.
"I...I just wanted to see you, Frank. I'm feeling really bad right now, you know, with the drugs and shit, and I just wanted to see my boyfriend and maybe watch a movie or something, and then you come in being all cryptic and distant and I just don't understand what I did wrong."
"Nothing. You didn't do anything."
"Oh, bullshit. You can't honestly say that to me. You can't even bear to have me touching you." He said, pulling his arms away and shifting back, as if to prove the point. I groaned.
"No, it's not you. I don't want you touching me because you're so pure. I'm disgusting, Gerard."
"How? What have you ever done?"
"I can't-"
"Right. You can't tell me. Okay. You know, for someone who's not lying to me, it sure sounds like you're fucking lying to me." He said, turning so he was on his back, looking at the ceiling.
Bert's hands. The tightening in my stomach. I came. I liked it.
"Gerard, I love you." I blurted out, trying to scare the memories away. He sighed.
"Y'know what, Frank? I actually don't need to hear that right now."
