Sun Shower [1/1]
Title: Sun Shower
Author: periculosa
Fandom: MCR
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
Rating: R
Summary: “Gerard is asleep, and then suddenly he just isn’t. There is no sudden start, no cold sweat, no nightmare; Gerard simply opens his eyes, and he is awake. It is as if he inadvertently fast-forwarded past the first five minutes of wakefulness-his mind is clear, he is fully alert, and he feels like he has to get out of bed.” Takes place at the Paramour estate, in 2006. Unbeta’d, ~3,500 words.
Disclaimer: Fake.
Concrit: Yes, please.
Notes: I’ve been trying to write this for a while. First, it started out as an AU, then I remembered something that had inspired me (a year ago, and I had originally planned to write a Harry Potter fic for it), and the pieces clicked into place. Just a quick note: when Frank mentions Gerard saying he’s going to walk into the pool someday, this is a reference to the book included with The Black Parade special edition, in which Gerard says that he was very depressed at the Paramour, and kept threatening to, well, walk into the pool. What a drama queen. ;)
Sun Shower
One morning, it just happens, and it doesn’t stop.
Gerard is asleep, and then suddenly he just isn’t. There is no sudden start, no cold sweat, no nightmare; Gerard simply opens his eyes, and he is awake. It is as if he inadvertently fast-forwarded past the first five minutes of wakefulness-his mind is clear, he is fully alert, and he feels like he has to get out of bed.
This doesn’t make any sense, because upon glancing at the clock, Gerard determines it’s only four seventeen AM, and he doesn’t have to get up until… well, until he feels like it.
Gerard and the rest of My Chemical Romance-with the exception of Mikey, who left two weeks earlier-are currently holed up in the Paramour estate, writing their next album. But perhaps “holed up” are not the right words; the Paramour is vast, with long, carpeted hallways, high ceilings, and marble floors. Even so, Gerard still feels trapped like a rat in a cage: a rather large and elaborate cage, but a cage nonetheless. Gerard knows it’s for the good of the band and their music that they’re staying at the Paramour, but he can’t deny that the icy fingers of depression are working their way around his heart. There is something about the house that is creepy and suffocating; something about it that makes him want to fall into a hard kind of love; something about it that makes him believe in ghosts.
Gerard knows that he could shake this depression off if he just sat down and got his emotions out on paper, but for now, he prefers to sink further into the rut he is already firmly lodged in. It’s much easier.
Perhaps this is why Gerard is so disturbed by his sudden-and unprovoked-awakened state. Sleeping was never something Gerard had any trouble doing; in fact, he’d go as far as to say that it’s among the things he does best. He stays up until two in the morning scratching away at a sketchpad, or thumbing through the pages in an old comic book, and he sleeps until at least noon the next day, usually solidly. If anything wakes him up during those ten hours or so, it will be with much difficulty, and he will easily slip back into his unconscious state after whatever annoyance goes away. But this is different. It is also quite different from the times he is jolted awake-that’s always caused by a nightmare; one that shakes him up so badly that sometimes, he has to run to the nearest bathroom and dry-heave into the toilet bowl for twenty minutes before he can go back to sleep.
He is staring into the darkness, up at what he assumes to be the ceiling, but he can’t quite tell, since a thick curtain covers his room’s vast window, which blocks out all light from outside. There is something in the back of his mind, tickling him, and telling him to get out of bed. It is like a mental prod; irritating and undeniably present, but not so distracting that it must be attended to. Gerard ignores the feeling and turns over, the creak of the mattress reverberating loudly through his skull. He closes his eyes tight and tries to remember what he was dreaming about before he woke up, because maybe it will give him some sort of clue.
He remembers that in his dream he was jogging, alongside someone he could not see. They were matched, step for step, breath for breath, and Gerard felt so free. He was flying on his feet, and he felt weightless under the morning sun. More than weightless, he felt like he glowed. When he’s awake, Gerard is not all confident about his appeal, but in that dream… he felt as if he swallowed a cup of sunshine, and the rays were glowing from underneath his skin. Gerard smiles as he recalls the feeling the dream gave him, and wonders what it meant. He clenches his eyes shut more tightly and shifts in his bed, trying to fall back asleep. It takes a half hour, but eventually he does.
[//]
Gerard does not remember the incident until the next morning, when it happens again. It’s the same exact thing-four seventeen AM, he’s on his back and suddenly wide-awake, and he wants very badly to be somewhere else. This feeling, however, is again not enough to actually provoke him into movement; Gerard just lies there in his bed, feeling his greasy, overgrown hair brush his cheeks, trying to stay as still as possible and grasp onto the last fleeting tendril of the dream he was having.
The sunshine was back, and so was the amazing feeling, and so was the person from last time-but in this dream, they were sitting outside at a table, a shadow conveniently hiding the face of Gerard’s companion from him. Gerard feels connected to this person, whoever he is, and he’s immensely frustrated that he doesn’t seem to have a face, or an identity. Gerard wants to find him, and demand from him why he keeps waking up at four seventeen AM, and cry on his shoulder, and tell him that he kept his nightmares away, and ask him to never stop what he’s doing, whatever it is.
But instead Gerard rolls over, onto his right side, and closes his eyes, willing sleep to come. It does, but not for an hour.
[//]
The third night when Gerard wakes up, he only looks at the clock to confirm what he already knows. Everything is exactly the same, except for his dream-that’s the only thing that ever changes. This time, he and his companion were swimming. There was laughter, and they were nude, and they kept pushing each other under the water playfully, only to resurface and pounce again. Gerard knows that he loves him, whoever he is, and wants to find him just so he can feel good.
Gerard is more fidgety than usual this time, and even after an hour, he is still awake. Things keep rolling over in his mind, and no matter how still he lies, he is still restless, and every five minutes or so he hears the sound of a particularly strong gust of wind whooshing past his window. He won’t admit it, even to himself, but he’s actually kind of scared. At five twenty-two AM, Gerard reluctantly rolls out of bed, drawn towards his huge window by that same unknown force that wakes him up every morning. Parting the curtains, he peers outside, down at the center of the courtyard, where the pool is buried in the ground like a huge light box. Gerard is surprised to see that the pool is lit up, and even more surprised to see a small figure sitting next to it. It’s too dark to tell who it is, but Gerard doesn’t really care. All he knows is that he is supposed to go outside, and join whoever it is who’s already there.
Grabbing a pack of cigarettes on his way out, Gerard makes his way down the dark hallway, feeling the walls to find his way and cursing his lack of foresight for not bringing the flashlight that was stashed under his bed.
When he reaches the door that leads outside, Gerard hesitates for the first time: what if whoever is out there doesn’t want to be disturbed? His doubt quickly disappears for reasons unknown, and Gerard shakes his head at his own behavior; he has no idea why he is acting so strange.
Gerard walks outside and closes the door behind him, but the figure by the pool doesn’t so much as twitch. As Gerard gets closer, he recognizes that it’s Frank sitting there, propped up on his arms behind him, with his legs stretched out forward, crossed at the ankles. His shoulders are slightly hunched, and Gerard noticed the glowing tip of the cigarette held between the index and middle fingers of his right hand. As Gerard approaches, Frank shifts his weight to his left arm while he picks up his right, bringing it up to take a drag from the cigarette he holds, blowing the smoke out slowly a moment later, then returning his arm to its original position.
Gerard stands next to Frank for a moment, and when Frank doesn’t look up, Gerard sits down beside him with his knees drawn up to his chest, staring straight ahead into the turquoise light of the pool.
“Hi,” Gerard says quietly, but his voice sounds so loud to himself, perhaps because it’s the first voice he heard since waking up.
Gerard sees Frank nod in acknowledgement in the corner of his eye, but neither of them says anything further. Gerard continues to stare at the surface of the pool, marveling at the way the light that emanates from beneath the surface makes the water look like liquid diamond. The water spills light onto everything around it, including Gerard’s own hands, and he watches as the patterns dance across his skin.
Taking in more of his surroundings, Gerard’s head turns towards Frank, and he sees that the shadow of the fence that surrounds the pool is casting diamonds of light onto him, and the surface of the water is shining shapes onto his flawless complexion. Gerard can’t remember seeing anything more beautiful.
In an attempt to get away from that train of thought, Gerard reaches for his pack of cigarettes, pulls one out, and sticks it between his lips. Then he begins to pat his pockets, searching for a lighter, but not finding one. Frank notices his struggle, and reaches over to his left in order to pick up his lighter, then turns back towards Gerard and flicks it open, somehow winding up closer than he was before he moved. “Here,” he says, motioning for Gerard to lean in so he can light his cigarette. Frank holds the flame right at the tip of the cigarette, and as Gerard stares into it, he thinks vaguely that he probably wouldn’t let anybody else do this. But Frank is careful, and Frank is gentle, and Frank is Frank.
Once the tip is glowing, Gerard pulls away, leaning forward, resting his arms on his knees again and removing the cigarette from his mouth, smoke coiling into the air in a distinct swirl, then dissipating. “Thanks,” Gerard says, back to staring into the pool.
Frank just nods, taking another drag from his own smoke, his nose ring catching a shine from the pool.
It’s silent for a while, Gerard listening to the low hum of the pool filter, painfully aware of Frank’s every move, and for some reason thinking about how their shadows are probably overlapping behind them, crossed at the head or perhaps the chest.
“You wake up, too?” Frank asks, not looking at Gerard.
“Yeah. Third time in a row,” Gerard says, relieved that the silence was broken.
“Me too,” Frank says, and for whatever reason, Gerard isn’t surprised. “Nightmares?” Frank asks a moment later.
“No. Just… dreams,” Gerard says softly, casting a sidelong look at Frank. Suddenly, something clicks in his head, and he knows why he’s sitting there.
Frank smiles, shaking hair out of his eyes and looking up at the stars. “I think I know what you mean.” And Gerard believes him.
Just as Gerard looks up at the stars to admire their beauty with Frank, a raindrop hits him square on the nose. Gerard flinches, but doesn’t otherwise move. “I think it’s going to rain,” Gerard says, noticing the first rays of sunlight peeking up over the horizon as he speaks.
“That’s alright,” Frank says. And his fingers brush Gerard’s as he shifts slightly, and he lets them rest there. Gerard fights the urge to pull away. “The sun’s going to shine bright today.”
Gerard swallows hard; he’s suddenly nervous, and he doesn’t know why. He’s known Frank for years, and he’s never felt this way. Perhaps it is because they are alone in the dark. Perhaps it is the subtleties of Frank’s voice; the soft promise of something unexpected, the slight hesitation in lieu of the usual confidence, the unspoken question that Gerard isn’t ready to answer. Perhaps it is Gerard’s realization that he had been dreaming about Frank for the past three nights. Either way, Gerard has to fight hard to keep still underneath Frank’s fingers.
Frank takes one last puff from his cigarette before throwing it on the concrete, lifting one of his legs to smother it, then returning to his original position. They both stare at the horizon, as if expecting it to give them answers to questions they aren’t even sure of, until the rain starts to fall harder. Gerard shudders, and turns toward Frank. “I think… maybe we should go inside,” he whispers, sticking his cigarette between his lips at the conclusion of his words. He is so nervous; so very nervous.
A heavy raindrop falls right onto the tip of Gerard’s cigarette, causing the smoke to waver a bit before resuming on its continuous journey upward.
Frank just smiles, his eyes sparkling. They hold each other’s gazes for a long time, which seems even longer to Gerard. Frank reaches up slowly and plucks the cigarette from between Gerard’s lips, and throws it carelessly on the ground next to him. Then, without thinking twice, or even blinking, Frank tilts his head, moves in, and kisses Gerard.
It’s not overly romantic like the old black and white movies; Frank’s hands don’t cup Gerard’s face, and Gerard’s sure that even if they were standing up, his foot wouldn’t be lifting for unexplained reasons. There are no fireworks and there are no sparks; Gerard isn’t suddenly filled with the conviction that Frank is the one. They’re just two friends, kissing in the rain by a lit-up pool, wondering if this is just a one-time thing, and hoping that it isn’t.
When Frank pulls away, it’s as if nothing happened. The only evidence of what had just transpired is the tingling in Gerard’s lips, and the smirk on Frank’s face. They’re quiet for a long stretch of time, watching the ripples in the pool turning into great splashes as the rain starts crashing down harder, and Gerard vaguely thinks that Frank looks very sexy when he’s drenched.
Frank gets to his feet suddenly, and Gerard is afraid that he’s going to walk away. Instead, he kicks off his shoes, sits on the edge of the pool and lowers himself in, fully clothed. “Shit!” he hisses, looking as if he wants to be smaller, so the water will touch less of him. He paces a bit, getting used to the water, then Gerard sees his head disappear beneath the surface. He comes back up a few seconds later, right at the edge of the pool.
“Come in,” he says, shaking his drenched hair out of his face and resting one hand on the concrete.
“Why?” Gerard asks, not really knowing what else to say. He can’t swim, and he’s sort of afraid.
“Why not? You’re already wet.” Frank smiles at him, and it’s really very charming.
“But it’s cold in there,” Gerard protests, his resolve weakening.
“Come on, Gerard. You always say you’re going to walk into the pool some day. Why not make it today?” Frank grins wider, and Gerard mentally curses him for using his own words against him.
He gets to his feet ungracefully and stands at the edge of the pool, looking down at Frank’s wet face. He holds his nose, closes his eyes and plunges into the water, trusting that Frank won’t let him drown. The pool folds around him like an icy embrace, and he feels his clothes billow as he sinks further down. He flaps his arms a bit, trying to float towards the surface, but when it’s higher up than he expects, he starts to panic and opens his eyes. He feels the sting of the chlorine instantly, but is distracted by a huge, bulbous light at one end of the pool. It’s like the sun of the mini-universe underwater, and Gerard wishes the real sun wouldn’t hurt to stare at. A moment later, Frank grabs his waist and pulls, and Gerard’s head is above water again.
Frank’s laughing, his green eyes alight with amusement. “Get lost on your way up?”
“You’re an ass,” Gerard says matter-of-factly, but still wants to hug him because he saved him from (un)certain doom. It feels weird, being in a pool while it’s raining; even when Gerard’s head is above the water, he’s still getting wetter, and he finds that his senses are somewhat confused.
Even stranger, however, is the stare that he and Frank are currently locked in. Gerard feels cornered and vulnerable with his back to the wall of the pool, his feet barely standing on something solid, and Frank’s hands resting on his waist, but Frank isn’t showing any sign of letting him move. His eyes are fixed on Gerard’s, unmoving and only blinking every once in a while. His expression is neutral, and this disturbs Gerard more than anything else; he wishes he could read Frank’s face, to see what he was thinking.
“I knew you would come,” Frank says finally, his eyes still locked with Gerard’s. “I knew that one of these nights, if I waited long enough, you’d come down.”
“What are you talking about?” Gerard asks, his voice wavering slightly.
Frank shakes his head. “I don’t know. I just… there’s something about this place.” Frank doesn’t have to elaborate on his thoughts, because Gerard knows what he means. “It makes me think things I wouldn’t normally think. And it makes me do things I wouldn’t normally do.”
Gerard swallows, and he sees Frank’s eyes dart down to watch his Adam’s apple bob.
“And it kind of scares me,” Frank continues, “but I’m also kind of glad.”
Everything he’s saying is so simple, but each word sends a different kind of shiver through Gerard’s body. He has butterflies, because part of him thinks Frank is talking about him, and part of him thinks he’s being self-absorbed by thinking such things. Gerard wants to know, but he also knows that half the thrill is not knowing. The only thing he’s sure about is that he wants it to be true.
Everything is bathed in a turquoise light, including Frank, and Gerard vaguely thinks that it’s almost like they’re in a whole separate world, where light is blue, Frank returns his feelings, and they could be alone as long as they needed to be (which would be quite a long time if Gerard had it his way).
Gerard flinches when Frank moves closer, and Frank frowns at him, looking disappointed. When Gerard doesn’t push him away or offer an explanation, Frank boldly moves forward again, bringing his lips to Gerard’s.
They stay like that for a long while, and this time around, Gerard thinks he might have seen some sparks, and maybe even a firework or two. Frank’s lips are cool from the water at first contact, but they warm up after a minute or so. Gerard feels so awkward, and he doesn’t know why; it’s not like they hadn’t kissed before. But later, when Gerard thinks about it, he’ll realize that it was the first time they were kissing with nobody else watching, just for them. Gerard doesn’t think about it at the moment, though, because he is far too lost in the feel of Frank’s teeth gently tugging on his bottom lip, and Frank’s hands pushing up the heavy material of his shirt so heated palms can warm up chilled sides. Gerard wants to touch Frank so badly, but he doesn’t know what to do, so he just lets his arms rest at his sides. When he stops thinking about it, though, Gerard’s hands travel up Frank’s arms, to his shoulders, down to his chest, and this should be illegal, because there’s no way anyone can feel this good without breaking some sort of law.
Raindrops roll from Frank’s face onto Gerard’s, as if they are one being rather than two separate ones, and they stand there kissing until Gerard can see the light of the rising sun through his closed eyelids.
They both pull apart at the same time, and Gerard admires the sunlight clinging to Frank’s eyelashes before climbing out of the pool and sitting next to it. Frank follows, and Gerard thinks he’s acting normal again until he covers Gerard’s hand with his own, and rests his head on Gerard’s shoulder, his wet hair sticking to Gerard’s neck. “I knew you would come,” he says again, and Gerard wishes he could see his face at that moment.
When they get up to go back inside, there is no discussion; they both head towards Gerard’s room without batting an eyelash or uttering a single sound. It’s as if fate has taken over their actions, making everything they do somewhat involuntary. When they enter Gerard’s room, Frank locks the door.
[//]
The next day, four seventeen AM comes and goes, but they stay asleep; wrapped around one another, their secrets are pinned between their chests.
And this time, Frank’s face is clear in Gerard’s dreams.
END
Author: periculosa
Fandom: MCR
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
Rating: R
Summary: “Gerard is asleep, and then suddenly he just isn’t. There is no sudden start, no cold sweat, no nightmare; Gerard simply opens his eyes, and he is awake. It is as if he inadvertently fast-forwarded past the first five minutes of wakefulness-his mind is clear, he is fully alert, and he feels like he has to get out of bed.” Takes place at the Paramour estate, in 2006. Unbeta’d, ~3,500 words.
Disclaimer: Fake.
Concrit: Yes, please.
Notes: I’ve been trying to write this for a while. First, it started out as an AU, then I remembered something that had inspired me (a year ago, and I had originally planned to write a Harry Potter fic for it), and the pieces clicked into place. Just a quick note: when Frank mentions Gerard saying he’s going to walk into the pool someday, this is a reference to the book included with The Black Parade special edition, in which Gerard says that he was very depressed at the Paramour, and kept threatening to, well, walk into the pool. What a drama queen. ;)
Sun Shower
One morning, it just happens, and it doesn’t stop.
Gerard is asleep, and then suddenly he just isn’t. There is no sudden start, no cold sweat, no nightmare; Gerard simply opens his eyes, and he is awake. It is as if he inadvertently fast-forwarded past the first five minutes of wakefulness-his mind is clear, he is fully alert, and he feels like he has to get out of bed.
This doesn’t make any sense, because upon glancing at the clock, Gerard determines it’s only four seventeen AM, and he doesn’t have to get up until… well, until he feels like it.
Gerard and the rest of My Chemical Romance-with the exception of Mikey, who left two weeks earlier-are currently holed up in the Paramour estate, writing their next album. But perhaps “holed up” are not the right words; the Paramour is vast, with long, carpeted hallways, high ceilings, and marble floors. Even so, Gerard still feels trapped like a rat in a cage: a rather large and elaborate cage, but a cage nonetheless. Gerard knows it’s for the good of the band and their music that they’re staying at the Paramour, but he can’t deny that the icy fingers of depression are working their way around his heart. There is something about the house that is creepy and suffocating; something about it that makes him want to fall into a hard kind of love; something about it that makes him believe in ghosts.
Gerard knows that he could shake this depression off if he just sat down and got his emotions out on paper, but for now, he prefers to sink further into the rut he is already firmly lodged in. It’s much easier.
Perhaps this is why Gerard is so disturbed by his sudden-and unprovoked-awakened state. Sleeping was never something Gerard had any trouble doing; in fact, he’d go as far as to say that it’s among the things he does best. He stays up until two in the morning scratching away at a sketchpad, or thumbing through the pages in an old comic book, and he sleeps until at least noon the next day, usually solidly. If anything wakes him up during those ten hours or so, it will be with much difficulty, and he will easily slip back into his unconscious state after whatever annoyance goes away. But this is different. It is also quite different from the times he is jolted awake-that’s always caused by a nightmare; one that shakes him up so badly that sometimes, he has to run to the nearest bathroom and dry-heave into the toilet bowl for twenty minutes before he can go back to sleep.
He is staring into the darkness, up at what he assumes to be the ceiling, but he can’t quite tell, since a thick curtain covers his room’s vast window, which blocks out all light from outside. There is something in the back of his mind, tickling him, and telling him to get out of bed. It is like a mental prod; irritating and undeniably present, but not so distracting that it must be attended to. Gerard ignores the feeling and turns over, the creak of the mattress reverberating loudly through his skull. He closes his eyes tight and tries to remember what he was dreaming about before he woke up, because maybe it will give him some sort of clue.
He remembers that in his dream he was jogging, alongside someone he could not see. They were matched, step for step, breath for breath, and Gerard felt so free. He was flying on his feet, and he felt weightless under the morning sun. More than weightless, he felt like he glowed. When he’s awake, Gerard is not all confident about his appeal, but in that dream… he felt as if he swallowed a cup of sunshine, and the rays were glowing from underneath his skin. Gerard smiles as he recalls the feeling the dream gave him, and wonders what it meant. He clenches his eyes shut more tightly and shifts in his bed, trying to fall back asleep. It takes a half hour, but eventually he does.
[//]
Gerard does not remember the incident until the next morning, when it happens again. It’s the same exact thing-four seventeen AM, he’s on his back and suddenly wide-awake, and he wants very badly to be somewhere else. This feeling, however, is again not enough to actually provoke him into movement; Gerard just lies there in his bed, feeling his greasy, overgrown hair brush his cheeks, trying to stay as still as possible and grasp onto the last fleeting tendril of the dream he was having.
The sunshine was back, and so was the amazing feeling, and so was the person from last time-but in this dream, they were sitting outside at a table, a shadow conveniently hiding the face of Gerard’s companion from him. Gerard feels connected to this person, whoever he is, and he’s immensely frustrated that he doesn’t seem to have a face, or an identity. Gerard wants to find him, and demand from him why he keeps waking up at four seventeen AM, and cry on his shoulder, and tell him that he kept his nightmares away, and ask him to never stop what he’s doing, whatever it is.
But instead Gerard rolls over, onto his right side, and closes his eyes, willing sleep to come. It does, but not for an hour.
[//]
The third night when Gerard wakes up, he only looks at the clock to confirm what he already knows. Everything is exactly the same, except for his dream-that’s the only thing that ever changes. This time, he and his companion were swimming. There was laughter, and they were nude, and they kept pushing each other under the water playfully, only to resurface and pounce again. Gerard knows that he loves him, whoever he is, and wants to find him just so he can feel good.
Gerard is more fidgety than usual this time, and even after an hour, he is still awake. Things keep rolling over in his mind, and no matter how still he lies, he is still restless, and every five minutes or so he hears the sound of a particularly strong gust of wind whooshing past his window. He won’t admit it, even to himself, but he’s actually kind of scared. At five twenty-two AM, Gerard reluctantly rolls out of bed, drawn towards his huge window by that same unknown force that wakes him up every morning. Parting the curtains, he peers outside, down at the center of the courtyard, where the pool is buried in the ground like a huge light box. Gerard is surprised to see that the pool is lit up, and even more surprised to see a small figure sitting next to it. It’s too dark to tell who it is, but Gerard doesn’t really care. All he knows is that he is supposed to go outside, and join whoever it is who’s already there.
Grabbing a pack of cigarettes on his way out, Gerard makes his way down the dark hallway, feeling the walls to find his way and cursing his lack of foresight for not bringing the flashlight that was stashed under his bed.
When he reaches the door that leads outside, Gerard hesitates for the first time: what if whoever is out there doesn’t want to be disturbed? His doubt quickly disappears for reasons unknown, and Gerard shakes his head at his own behavior; he has no idea why he is acting so strange.
Gerard walks outside and closes the door behind him, but the figure by the pool doesn’t so much as twitch. As Gerard gets closer, he recognizes that it’s Frank sitting there, propped up on his arms behind him, with his legs stretched out forward, crossed at the ankles. His shoulders are slightly hunched, and Gerard noticed the glowing tip of the cigarette held between the index and middle fingers of his right hand. As Gerard approaches, Frank shifts his weight to his left arm while he picks up his right, bringing it up to take a drag from the cigarette he holds, blowing the smoke out slowly a moment later, then returning his arm to its original position.
Gerard stands next to Frank for a moment, and when Frank doesn’t look up, Gerard sits down beside him with his knees drawn up to his chest, staring straight ahead into the turquoise light of the pool.
“Hi,” Gerard says quietly, but his voice sounds so loud to himself, perhaps because it’s the first voice he heard since waking up.
Gerard sees Frank nod in acknowledgement in the corner of his eye, but neither of them says anything further. Gerard continues to stare at the surface of the pool, marveling at the way the light that emanates from beneath the surface makes the water look like liquid diamond. The water spills light onto everything around it, including Gerard’s own hands, and he watches as the patterns dance across his skin.
Taking in more of his surroundings, Gerard’s head turns towards Frank, and he sees that the shadow of the fence that surrounds the pool is casting diamonds of light onto him, and the surface of the water is shining shapes onto his flawless complexion. Gerard can’t remember seeing anything more beautiful.
In an attempt to get away from that train of thought, Gerard reaches for his pack of cigarettes, pulls one out, and sticks it between his lips. Then he begins to pat his pockets, searching for a lighter, but not finding one. Frank notices his struggle, and reaches over to his left in order to pick up his lighter, then turns back towards Gerard and flicks it open, somehow winding up closer than he was before he moved. “Here,” he says, motioning for Gerard to lean in so he can light his cigarette. Frank holds the flame right at the tip of the cigarette, and as Gerard stares into it, he thinks vaguely that he probably wouldn’t let anybody else do this. But Frank is careful, and Frank is gentle, and Frank is Frank.
Once the tip is glowing, Gerard pulls away, leaning forward, resting his arms on his knees again and removing the cigarette from his mouth, smoke coiling into the air in a distinct swirl, then dissipating. “Thanks,” Gerard says, back to staring into the pool.
Frank just nods, taking another drag from his own smoke, his nose ring catching a shine from the pool.
It’s silent for a while, Gerard listening to the low hum of the pool filter, painfully aware of Frank’s every move, and for some reason thinking about how their shadows are probably overlapping behind them, crossed at the head or perhaps the chest.
“You wake up, too?” Frank asks, not looking at Gerard.
“Yeah. Third time in a row,” Gerard says, relieved that the silence was broken.
“Me too,” Frank says, and for whatever reason, Gerard isn’t surprised. “Nightmares?” Frank asks a moment later.
“No. Just… dreams,” Gerard says softly, casting a sidelong look at Frank. Suddenly, something clicks in his head, and he knows why he’s sitting there.
Frank smiles, shaking hair out of his eyes and looking up at the stars. “I think I know what you mean.” And Gerard believes him.
Just as Gerard looks up at the stars to admire their beauty with Frank, a raindrop hits him square on the nose. Gerard flinches, but doesn’t otherwise move. “I think it’s going to rain,” Gerard says, noticing the first rays of sunlight peeking up over the horizon as he speaks.
“That’s alright,” Frank says. And his fingers brush Gerard’s as he shifts slightly, and he lets them rest there. Gerard fights the urge to pull away. “The sun’s going to shine bright today.”
Gerard swallows hard; he’s suddenly nervous, and he doesn’t know why. He’s known Frank for years, and he’s never felt this way. Perhaps it is because they are alone in the dark. Perhaps it is the subtleties of Frank’s voice; the soft promise of something unexpected, the slight hesitation in lieu of the usual confidence, the unspoken question that Gerard isn’t ready to answer. Perhaps it is Gerard’s realization that he had been dreaming about Frank for the past three nights. Either way, Gerard has to fight hard to keep still underneath Frank’s fingers.
Frank takes one last puff from his cigarette before throwing it on the concrete, lifting one of his legs to smother it, then returning to his original position. They both stare at the horizon, as if expecting it to give them answers to questions they aren’t even sure of, until the rain starts to fall harder. Gerard shudders, and turns toward Frank. “I think… maybe we should go inside,” he whispers, sticking his cigarette between his lips at the conclusion of his words. He is so nervous; so very nervous.
A heavy raindrop falls right onto the tip of Gerard’s cigarette, causing the smoke to waver a bit before resuming on its continuous journey upward.
Frank just smiles, his eyes sparkling. They hold each other’s gazes for a long time, which seems even longer to Gerard. Frank reaches up slowly and plucks the cigarette from between Gerard’s lips, and throws it carelessly on the ground next to him. Then, without thinking twice, or even blinking, Frank tilts his head, moves in, and kisses Gerard.
It’s not overly romantic like the old black and white movies; Frank’s hands don’t cup Gerard’s face, and Gerard’s sure that even if they were standing up, his foot wouldn’t be lifting for unexplained reasons. There are no fireworks and there are no sparks; Gerard isn’t suddenly filled with the conviction that Frank is the one. They’re just two friends, kissing in the rain by a lit-up pool, wondering if this is just a one-time thing, and hoping that it isn’t.
When Frank pulls away, it’s as if nothing happened. The only evidence of what had just transpired is the tingling in Gerard’s lips, and the smirk on Frank’s face. They’re quiet for a long stretch of time, watching the ripples in the pool turning into great splashes as the rain starts crashing down harder, and Gerard vaguely thinks that Frank looks very sexy when he’s drenched.
Frank gets to his feet suddenly, and Gerard is afraid that he’s going to walk away. Instead, he kicks off his shoes, sits on the edge of the pool and lowers himself in, fully clothed. “Shit!” he hisses, looking as if he wants to be smaller, so the water will touch less of him. He paces a bit, getting used to the water, then Gerard sees his head disappear beneath the surface. He comes back up a few seconds later, right at the edge of the pool.
“Come in,” he says, shaking his drenched hair out of his face and resting one hand on the concrete.
“Why?” Gerard asks, not really knowing what else to say. He can’t swim, and he’s sort of afraid.
“Why not? You’re already wet.” Frank smiles at him, and it’s really very charming.
“But it’s cold in there,” Gerard protests, his resolve weakening.
“Come on, Gerard. You always say you’re going to walk into the pool some day. Why not make it today?” Frank grins wider, and Gerard mentally curses him for using his own words against him.
He gets to his feet ungracefully and stands at the edge of the pool, looking down at Frank’s wet face. He holds his nose, closes his eyes and plunges into the water, trusting that Frank won’t let him drown. The pool folds around him like an icy embrace, and he feels his clothes billow as he sinks further down. He flaps his arms a bit, trying to float towards the surface, but when it’s higher up than he expects, he starts to panic and opens his eyes. He feels the sting of the chlorine instantly, but is distracted by a huge, bulbous light at one end of the pool. It’s like the sun of the mini-universe underwater, and Gerard wishes the real sun wouldn’t hurt to stare at. A moment later, Frank grabs his waist and pulls, and Gerard’s head is above water again.
Frank’s laughing, his green eyes alight with amusement. “Get lost on your way up?”
“You’re an ass,” Gerard says matter-of-factly, but still wants to hug him because he saved him from (un)certain doom. It feels weird, being in a pool while it’s raining; even when Gerard’s head is above the water, he’s still getting wetter, and he finds that his senses are somewhat confused.
Even stranger, however, is the stare that he and Frank are currently locked in. Gerard feels cornered and vulnerable with his back to the wall of the pool, his feet barely standing on something solid, and Frank’s hands resting on his waist, but Frank isn’t showing any sign of letting him move. His eyes are fixed on Gerard’s, unmoving and only blinking every once in a while. His expression is neutral, and this disturbs Gerard more than anything else; he wishes he could read Frank’s face, to see what he was thinking.
“I knew you would come,” Frank says finally, his eyes still locked with Gerard’s. “I knew that one of these nights, if I waited long enough, you’d come down.”
“What are you talking about?” Gerard asks, his voice wavering slightly.
Frank shakes his head. “I don’t know. I just… there’s something about this place.” Frank doesn’t have to elaborate on his thoughts, because Gerard knows what he means. “It makes me think things I wouldn’t normally think. And it makes me do things I wouldn’t normally do.”
Gerard swallows, and he sees Frank’s eyes dart down to watch his Adam’s apple bob.
“And it kind of scares me,” Frank continues, “but I’m also kind of glad.”
Everything he’s saying is so simple, but each word sends a different kind of shiver through Gerard’s body. He has butterflies, because part of him thinks Frank is talking about him, and part of him thinks he’s being self-absorbed by thinking such things. Gerard wants to know, but he also knows that half the thrill is not knowing. The only thing he’s sure about is that he wants it to be true.
Everything is bathed in a turquoise light, including Frank, and Gerard vaguely thinks that it’s almost like they’re in a whole separate world, where light is blue, Frank returns his feelings, and they could be alone as long as they needed to be (which would be quite a long time if Gerard had it his way).
Gerard flinches when Frank moves closer, and Frank frowns at him, looking disappointed. When Gerard doesn’t push him away or offer an explanation, Frank boldly moves forward again, bringing his lips to Gerard’s.
They stay like that for a long while, and this time around, Gerard thinks he might have seen some sparks, and maybe even a firework or two. Frank’s lips are cool from the water at first contact, but they warm up after a minute or so. Gerard feels so awkward, and he doesn’t know why; it’s not like they hadn’t kissed before. But later, when Gerard thinks about it, he’ll realize that it was the first time they were kissing with nobody else watching, just for them. Gerard doesn’t think about it at the moment, though, because he is far too lost in the feel of Frank’s teeth gently tugging on his bottom lip, and Frank’s hands pushing up the heavy material of his shirt so heated palms can warm up chilled sides. Gerard wants to touch Frank so badly, but he doesn’t know what to do, so he just lets his arms rest at his sides. When he stops thinking about it, though, Gerard’s hands travel up Frank’s arms, to his shoulders, down to his chest, and this should be illegal, because there’s no way anyone can feel this good without breaking some sort of law.
Raindrops roll from Frank’s face onto Gerard’s, as if they are one being rather than two separate ones, and they stand there kissing until Gerard can see the light of the rising sun through his closed eyelids.
They both pull apart at the same time, and Gerard admires the sunlight clinging to Frank’s eyelashes before climbing out of the pool and sitting next to it. Frank follows, and Gerard thinks he’s acting normal again until he covers Gerard’s hand with his own, and rests his head on Gerard’s shoulder, his wet hair sticking to Gerard’s neck. “I knew you would come,” he says again, and Gerard wishes he could see his face at that moment.
When they get up to go back inside, there is no discussion; they both head towards Gerard’s room without batting an eyelash or uttering a single sound. It’s as if fate has taken over their actions, making everything they do somewhat involuntary. When they enter Gerard’s room, Frank locks the door.
[//]
The next day, four seventeen AM comes and goes, but they stay asleep; wrapped around one another, their secrets are pinned between their chests.
And this time, Frank’s face is clear in Gerard’s dreams.
END