{{FRANK POV}}
The air was cool as Frank stepped outside. He took a deep breath, then smiled, into the night. Work had been stressful. Working as a waiter had to be one of the worst jobs anyone could have. And of course he was stuck with it.
Then again, back when Gerard was there, frank never had a single worry. Gerard was like a good luck charm. But ever since the day back in his middle school years when Gerard has left home, everything seemed to go wrong.
He had left without a word too. No goodbye, no reasoning, frank woke up and went to school one morning and Gerard wasn't there.
Frank hadn't seen his friend since. And not a day went by that he didn't regret ignoring Gerard's multiple texts and phone calls that night.
Everyone knew why Gerard left. He had accidentally killed his cousin, Elizabeth, by pushing her down the stairs. His parents tried to keep it hush hush but thanks to Mikey and Asher, everyone soon knew. Those two were shit at keeping their mouths closed.
The way they told the story, though, sometimes frank wondered if it was even true. Everything was so perfectly detailed, immaculately arranged. According to the rumors, Gerard and Eliza had been arguing over one thing or another, at the top of the steps, and he pushed her. It was too cliche.
And Gerard was a quiet, peaceful, nonviolent kid. He wouldn't have... But why would Mikey or Asher have a reason to lie? They didn't as far as Frank knew.
Frank walked with his hands deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched forward, watching the toes of his shiny black shoes as he walked.
He missed Gerard. They had been like brothers. Inseparable, closer than anything. Maybe even more like lovers.
Frank kicked a pebble, and watched it skittle across the sidewalk, click, click click click... Ping. It hit the drain and teetered for a moment. Then fell in. The sky was cloudy. The air smelled of rain. Frank stood still for a moment. There had been a night like this a long time ago, when he and Gerard were walking... Suddenly, he was painfully drawn back into the memory of he and Gerard's first and only date. If Gerard had stayed would there have been more dates? Would Gerard's scars have faded by now? Frank remembered that night...
He remembered kissing Gerard. He remembered sitting on a park bench. Unzipping Gerard's jacket. Gerard's protests. Gerard's arms, covered in razor blade kisses. Scars he had made himself.
And bruises. Gerard had stared at frank for a moment, then grabbed his jacket and ran, without another word.
That was the night Gerard left. He sent frank only one text, called him only once. Both to say one simple thing. "I love you Frankie."
Frank shook away the memories, and continued walking. He listened to his shoes on the sidewalk pavement, clicking softly. He walked with a scuff, always had.
I'll take the long way home, frank said, turning down the next street. His fingers reached up to his neck, the old leather pentagram that Gerard had given him. He never once took it off.
Nights like this he always got more lonely.
He started to wonder how it would be if Gerard was walking with him, and he smiled, and turned down an alley.
He looked up as he walked, finally, for the first time that night, really.
At the end of the alley, which was apparently a dead end, a young man was laying. He was too well dressed to be a homeless man, and Frank continued to approach him.
"Is someone back here?"
As he got closer, he saw that the man was bleeding profusely, from cuts all over his arms and his chest, neck... Someone had beat him up and left him for dead. Frank walked closer. Was the man even alive? Frank leaned down a little, trying to see the person's face. That nose. Those eyes.
Frank drew in a sharp breath, and dove to the ground, pulling the young man into his lap. "Holy fucking god, are you okay?" He cuddled the young man close. "What the fuck happened to you?" The young man shook his head, burrowing into Frank's lap. Frank gently ran his fingers through the man's hair, while he sobbed.
Eventually the young man's sobs ceased, trailing off in choking hiccups. "Wh-Why are you being n-nice to me," He sniffled into Frank's shirt, "I-im a s-stupid emo f-faggot..."
No you arent, Frank thought. "Only one of those is a bad thing, and it isn't even true." He said. Because I'm just like you... "Who did this to you?"
He got no reply. He sighed softly and held him tighter. After a long while, He finally asked quietly "Need an ambulance?"
The young man shook his head, and Frank brushed the hair off of his forehead. There was a long deep gash, open and bleeding. Frank gasped. Frank couldnt keep it in anymore.
"You sure, Gee?" Frank asked, softly. Gerard looked up at him, eyes full of pain, tears, bloodshot and red, but still beautiful and innocent.
Then he threw his arms around Frank's neck, new tears wetting his shirt. Frank hugged him tightly back, burying his head in Gerard's shoulder, though it smelled strongly of blood.
"I ain't never gonna leave you Gee." he said, nuzzling into Gerard's neck. "Never ever. We're gonna be okay. Ill never let them hurt you, I promise. You'll be okay." Gerard nodded, swallowing. Frank smiled bitterly, cursing the world for hurting someone so beautiful.
"I missed you Frankie." Gerard whispered.
{{GERARD POV}}
Gerard couldn't breathe.
His arm and his ribs hurt like nothing he had ever felt. His wrists stung from the bite of a razor and his head hurt, hung over dull pain from the night before.
Oh and he was trapped between the wall and an oncoming figure. In the dark, with his vision blurred as it was with tears, Gerard couldnt even tell if this fuzzy looking figure was a female or a male. His hangover made it no better.
Gerard cowered against the wall, silently praying to a god he didn't have any belief in, that this person would do less than kill him.
Three hours ago, at least, he had been chased into this alley by a group of church kids from his school and beaten senseless. He had lain here bleeding and crying since they left him, he supposed he might die.
"Faggot," they had called him. "Emo," they had taken a knife to his arm, slicing it in a million places till it was shredded to ribbons. But they hadn't cut too deep, he guessed he wouldn't bleed out, but he might die from lack of oxygen, he felt like his ribs were broken.
His mouth tasted of blood, from his busted lip and forehead, where he was sitting slumped against the wall, the blood was dripping in his mouth.
But it was something that tasted. He hadn't eaten in days. All his money had been going to help Mikey back home.
"Is there someone back here?" a male voice asked. Gerard whimpered. He heard the footsteps growing closer and he closed his eyes tight. He waited for the first blow to come. His cheeks felt tight from where the eyeliner and blood had dried.
"Holy fucking god, are you okay?" the voice asked, and someone pulled him close. He was stunned, why wasnt this person hurting him? "what the fuck happened to you?" the voice asked. Gerard shook his head, burrowing into the other man's lap.
The two sat in silence for a while, the kind stranger running his fingers through Gerard's hair, and Gerard shaking and sobbing in the strangers lap.
Finally Gerard's sobs lapsed into gaspy hiccups, and the other man hugged Gerard to his chest.
"Wh-Why are you being n-nice to me," Gerard sniffled into the stranger's shirt, "I-im a s-stupid emo f-faggot..."
The stranger hugged him tighter. "Only one of those is a bad thing, and it isn't even true." He said, quietly. "Who did this to you?"
Gerard couldn't reply, his throat hurt too much, as did the rest of him. The stranger sighed softly, and held him close. Gerard felt safe, something he hadn't felt in years, having left home and his brother behind when he turned thirteen, and running off to live on the streets.
It wasn't hard to find somewhere to sleep. It wasn't hard to find decent clothes, most of the time now, he slept at his friend Ceri's house, on her couch, and she never asked why he couldn't go home. Secretly he knew that she knew he was homeless, but it was like she respected him too much to say anything.
He kept a job, but that was only enough for food and clothes, two things that were priority. Gerard figured that he could always find somewhere to sleep, and people would sooner figure him out if he wore shabby clothes and looked starved. He was smarter than most people.
Or so he thought, but that was before he decided on the spur of the moment to take the short cut home from work, and he had wound up here.
Crying. Into a stranger's lap. A complete and utter stranger. Gerard didn't even know what the man looked like. In fact his eyes were tightly closed, mostly in fear due to the worry he had that he might open them and find himself insane, imagining the stranger's warm strong touch, or worse, might find himself dead.
He felt vaguely sorry for the stranger, whose nice soft shirt- was that silk? - was now soiled by tears, mascara, eyeliner, and blood. But he couldn't bring himself to leave the stranger's embrace.
It made him feel safer, having this man's arms around him. He had always favored a man's embrace. Many and many a night he had found solace and comfort, lost himself completely, in a man's arms. Sixty times a virgin, Ceri said. Sixty times and still as innocent as the day she met him.
Still childish enough to curl up in a strange man's arms and sob like this. A child, a helpless, loathsome, stupid child, was all he was. This man would eventually use him anyway, they all did. Gerard was always a one night stand. The next morning he would wake, they would wake, and with a look of disgust...
Whore. He scolded himself. This is all your fault. This man has better things to do than to console a crying 19 year old in an alley at one in the morning. Surely this man didn't really care. Surely he just felt pity.
"Do you need an ambulance?" The stranger asked softly, brushing the hair from Gerard's forehead, and Gerard heard a sharp intake of breath when the other man saw the scar. That was from the day he left home. Never seemed to heal right.
Broken beer bottle. Slammed against the kitchen counter. Shards of glass everywhere. Mikey crying. Mother screaming. And Elizabeth was dead.
Gerard sobbed even harder, suddenly unable to control himself at all. Lizzie... His baby cousin. Lizzie, what had she ever done?
Gerard remembered running. Lots of running. Days. Weeks. Bus rides, train tickets, subway cars. Sleeping under bridges. Selling himself for money once or twice during the winter when he needed to stay indoors.
And the keeper he had for a while back two Mays ago. Jack, was his name. Gerard snuggled into the stranger, remembering the night he had gotten lost. Jack had been good to him. Better than anyone else.
He had a roof over his head, food to eat... He had someone who wouldn't leave his side.
But everything good comes to an end. Just as the comfort of this stranger's arms would. And to the stranger's question, he shook his head. No, he didn't need an ambulance. He would handle the injuries himself. He always did.
They weren't too serious, he reassured himself, but with the pricking of the cuts all over his body, the scar on his forehead newly opened and dripping in his eyes... He couldn't seem to convince himself it was the truth.
The stranger nuzzled his head into Gerard's. "You sure Gee?" he asked, softly. Gerard's blood froze in his veins. He opened his eyes, and looked at the man holding him. The tears started to come faster and faster, and he threw his arms around the other boy's neck, clinging to him for dear life.
The younger boy hugged him back, and buried his head in Gerard's blood soaked shoulder.
"I ain't never gonna leave you Gee." he said, nuzzling into Gerard's neck. "Never ever. We're gonna be okay. Ill never let them hurt you, I promise. You'll be okay." Gerard nodded, swallowing.
"I missed you Frankie." He whispered.