POV: Third, Frank centered
Summary: Frank knew he’d get his lover before the summer ended, he only didn’t know he’d loose him before the fall came. Frank and Gerard's relationship progressed with the seasons.
Disclaimer: This isn't real, and I'm not claiming it is.
Beta: poseys_demise <33
Author Notes: Inspired by the music video "What hurts the most" by the Rascal Flats. You should really see it.
Word Count: 989
”No. No, you’re lying.”
”NO! You’re lying! Tell me you’re motherfucking lying!”
Frank slams his palms against the window, making it rustle, but not shatter. He breathes in harsh, ragged, watching the red and yellow-brown fall from the trees; rustle around the driveway, being taken away with the wind. He feels like them.
Like he’s falling.
He turns his back to the depressing scenery with a snare.
Mikey doesn’t answer. He stands flaccid by the door, his arms limp by his sides, misery washing over his face in cold, dead waves, making it an expressionless heap of pain. He opens his mouth once, twice, to answer, but no words come out. He can’t bare himself to lie.
He sees a single tear run down Mikey's cheek.
“NO!” Frank screams, and throws himself at Mikey, slamming him into the wall, making a cracking thud. Mikey tries to shield himself with his hands rose in front of him as Frank flees towards him, but it’s not enough. Frank starts hitting him, hard, clenched fists into his chest as he keeps screaming, mixing tears into it. Mikey holds around him tight, trying to keep him still, and whispers his name over and over again, hushing, comforting, as Frank struggles.
Finally, Frank goes limp in his arms, sobbing helplessly.
Frank loves the feeling of fresh, new wind blowing against his skin softly. He likes how it’s chilly, yet without being cold. It isn’t quite warm yet, just promising that that will come, eventually. Soon. It is what he loves the most with the spring.
He also loves the tingling, butterfly feeling he gets, the excitement, of knowing that he’s falling in love. That is just as promising, whispering what there is to come. And oh, how he can’t wait for what to come.
Doe, hazel eyes and soft, black hair, milky white skin and the soft, pudgy feeling of a little belly. It’s exactly how Frank wants a boy to be, and here he got it, the whole package. Right in front of him, reciprocating his warm smile and fluttery eyelashes.
Oh, I love how you’ll be mine before the summer comes to an end.
There is simply nothing better than lying in the thick, warm blanket of the first, thick layer of grass. The field is bright green, just as bright as the sun above, and Frank’s heart is swelling with love. Under him lays a woolen blanket, and in his arms lays his boy, nuzzled into his neck.
“You’re so cocky,” Gerard laughs, and his breath tingles Frank’s neck. It reminds him of the spring breeze, the one he felt when he first met Gerard, when he still was floating in oblivion. How it grew in temperature, just like their relationship grew with each date they had as spring turned into summer.
“Why, because I knew you’d be mine?” Frank hums into Gerard’s raven black mane, and he smells his apple shampoo. He knows Frank loves his apple shampoo.
“Yeah,” Gerard says, and tilts his head up to beam into Frank’s eyes and kiss him softly. He sighs contently against his lips, stroking a stray of hair behind his ear.
“But I like it,” he grins.
“I know you do,” Frank grin right back.
Then Gerard tells him to shut up, and Frank says “you shut up,” and rolls on top of him to attack his lips, definitely making Gerard shut up.
They’re making out heatedly, and they’re shivering slightly, even though it’s not cold.
They make love for the first time, right there on the blanket, in the middle of the warm blossom of the field.
The roof Gerard’s car makes a good shield from the burning sun. It’s parked by their field, next to a tree with branches so long that the soft, green leaves caresses the car windows just like Gerard’s fingers is caressing Frank’s cheek. They’re nested in the back seat, wrapped up in each other and the silence and the love.
The summer is at its end, and Gerard is Frank’s.
“What are you thinking about?” Gerard whispers.
“You,” Frank responds, and kisses him. Gerard giggles and kisses back. Then they fall back into silence, Frank stroking Gerard’s soft, exposed belly slowly.
“What do you see in the future?” Frank asks, gazing up at Gerard. Gerard waves his hand in the air softly.
“What do you see in the future?” he smiles.
“Hey, I’m serious,” Frank says, looking at him more defiantly, opting for an answer. Gerard is silent for a few seconds, gazing into Frank’s eyes with a wry, lazy smile on his thin lips.
“You,” he whispers then.
Frank’s face cracks into a wide grin, and he kisses him.
“What do you see?” Gerard asks again, and Frank grins even wider as he just opens the door and runs outside, blowing him a kiss as he goes.
He watches Gerard drive out onto the highway as he walks into his driveway.
But he doesn’t hear the crash over the sound of the choir of birds chirping silly love songs in his ears when he turns to walk inside.
Everything that reminded about summer is gone when Frank walks on the dim grey path. He barely hears the leaves and gravel chirp under his feet as he floats through a haze of yellow and red and grey. The wind is harsh and cold and insensible, and promises nothing at all. He finds his way though the grey, old stones, not bothering to read the inscriptions, until he finds the place where the earth is freshly dug.
He falls to his knees in front of Gerard’s gravestone, the tears that floats in broad streams over his cheeks making him unable to read Gerard’s full name and birth and death that is written in pitch black in front of him, and he starts sobbing, whimpering and heaving for air uncontrollably.
“I saw you,” he whispers.
“I saw you.”