Frank sat across from Gerard, the cold, impersonal wooden table between them. His hands were folded in front of him, and he was deliberately controlling his breathing. He wanted to appear the picturesque epitome of calm.

Gerard reclined in his chair, observing Frank. He could see tension in the lines in his face, and in the way he held his shoulders tight. He didn't understand why Frank was so afraid. He had nothing to fear.

"So…" He prompted. Frank met his gaze, but made no move to speak. Gerard continued, "Are you ready for this? You don't have to talk yet if you don't want to."

Frank's breathing betrayed him. He drew a shaky breath before answering. "Yeah. I need to talk about it. I think I'm ready. And… you deserve to know." He closed his eyes, inhaling through his nose. His eyes flew open in surprise as he felt Gerard's warm hands encasing him. He had reached across the table and drew his chair closer in, leaning forward on one elbow to be as close to Frank as he could be without encroaching on his personal space. He watched as the knot of his frown untangled slightly, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

"You don't have to be afraid, Frank. I'm here for you. You were there for me in the darkest days of my life. You pulled me out of addiction, depression- you talked me away from suicide. I owe you my life a hundred times over. Nothing could make me pull away from you. I'm here until you force me away."

Frank studied the ceiling very carefully, an act that seemed to be becoming a regular pattern. He bit his lip and looked into Gerard's eyes. He took a deep breath and began to speak.

"I had some family that lives a few hours from here. Not too close, not too far. It was a three, four, sometimes five hour drive. I spent the holidays there, and a few weeks every summer"

Gerard moved to speak, but Frank cut him off. "Please, just let me talk. This is the first time talking about it, and I just need to let it all out." He silently motioned for him to continue.

"We were best friends. He taught me how to play my first computer game, helped me beat the game. We would catch frogs together, watch movies, stay up and tell ghost stories. We were the best friends anyone could imagine. It didn't matter that we rarely saw each other. We knew we had the other to lean on. The five year age gap didn't matter. We were friends."

"I trusted him with everything. I told him all my secrets, confessed all my stupid childish dreams. He told me that I had the potential to be anything. That I could do whatever I wanted, if i just believed. He gave my self confidence. He made me feel important and noticed and..."

His voice trailed off. He had felt so comfortable with him. Which drove home the utter irony of the situation...

He cleared his throat and picked up again. "It started off innocently enough. He would randomly grab my hand and we'd skip together. He'd ruffle my hair. Eventually he'd kiss me on the cheek, and ask for a kiss in return. I was comfortable with all that. You saw friends doing it, brothers doing it, it happened on TV all the time."

"I still remember the first time he actually kissed me. We were sitting in the back of his father's car. His father was a crazy drunk, so driving anywhere with him was terrifying. We had been searching for little shells and these ping pong ball sized seed pods we called buckeyes, along the river, maybe ten minutes away. We got in the car as his wretched old man took a piss, and he sat next to me in the back seat. He told me to be very still, and put one hand on the back of my neck. He leaned in and kissed me, gently at first. I froze. Every cell in my body knew this wasn't what friends did. This wasn't okay. I tried to look away, pull away. His green eyes flashed and he grabbed me around the arm and pulled my hair back. He told me if I told anyone... he'd tell his father. And he told me his father would kill me."

Frank paused, looking at Gerard to gauge his reaction. Gerard kept his face carefully still, unsure of what he should be feeling in a situation like this but inside his heart was twinging with pain, pain that Frank thought that he wouldn't love him because of this, pain that Frank had to deal with this, and most of all pain that Frank put on a smile every day and acted like everything was all right. He wanted to take him up in his arms and tell him that everything would be okay, just hold him and make it all go away but he didn't know what Frank was feeling, if it was all right if he did.

He drew a breath and continued. "Things... progressed from there. The things he made me do..." he shuddered involuntarily. "The threats got worse and worse. An open-palmed blow to the side of the face. I was terrified."

"And then he moved. I never saw him again. But I retained that feeling. That fear. That I was dirty, disgusting, unworthy. I felt so utterly filthy from his very touch, his eyes on me. The memories are seared onto the back of my skull. I felt like a leper."

"Then... you."

Franks throat began to tighten. He didn't trust his voice to continue on. He looked around the room, looking anywhere but Gee's eyes. He was afraid of what he'd find there. Repulsion, regret, disgust... he didn't know if he could take it.

Gerard didn't care if Frank didn't want him there, he couldn't stand not being able to comfort him. He let go of Franks hand and awkwardly scrambled over the table separating them, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him close.

"You aren't filthy. You will never be filthy to me, and I hate it that you think you would be." He said softly.

Frank still hadn't met his eyes.

Gerard rested his head on Frank's shoulder, "I still love you." He said.

Frank turned around and buried his face in his chest.

"I love you too. I love you so much." He couldn't vocalize how much Gerard meant to him. He didn't understand how someone so utterly perfect and good could love someone like... him. but he was content to know that he did. At this point, that was enough for him.