Young and Doomed | Frerard

Chapter Twenty-Two

It was close to two am when Gerard practically had a heart-attack.

The midnight shift had just ended, and someone off the morning-shift crew had just dropped by, glancing through the wired glass window in the door before continuing on their rounds. Gerard was used to it by now, but Frank would still get startled every now and then by the sudden visits. Frank hadn't been affected just now though, as he was asleep.

And Gerard may or may not have been watching him do so.

In his defense, he didn't mean to. It wasn't like Gerard had much to do in this place; he was bored! And Frank was very interesting, so it was a win-win as far as Gerard was concerned.

Gerard watched the outline of Frank's shape in the 'dark.' The lights never truly went out, just dimmed, but it was enough to impair his vision. Frank looked so perfect as he slept; Gerard was confident that if he'd had some pencils he would have drawn the scene. But before he could consider if it was worth an attempt with crayons, Frank rolled over, eyes open.

"Can't sleep?" Gerard asked quietly, and Frank shook his head. "Do you have any weed?" He asked, and Gerard coughed out a laugh. "No?" He snorted, before asking, "Is something wrong?"

Frank grunted. "Maybe, I don't know. My parents want to talk to me again; that's never a good sign. Someone great-uncle probably died."

"Hey, he might have left you a nice inheritance," Gerard suggested jokingly, before his expression sobered. "Frank, they're your parents. They just want to talk."

"Whose side are you on?" Frank snapped accusingly, eyeing Gerard, who put up his hands in defense. "I'm not on anyone's side!" Gerard insisted. "I'm just saying, talking to your mom might not mean the end of the world, okay?"

"How would you know?" Frank frowned. "You don't even have parents."

"I had foster ones," Gerard corrected him, smiling faintly to mask the hurt in his voice. "Some were better than others, but if one person from the outside was trying to contact me, I'd answer that phone in a minute."

"That's different, you're different." Frank objected, before heaving a loud sigh and pulling his hair against his head as he ran his fingers through it. "I don't feel like fighting right now. Does anyone else in this place have weed?"

"Interesting," Gerard observed in amusement. "I hadn't marked you down as a pothead. Well, Hayley definitely has some, and that asshole Ryan. But I only have beer."

"Actually, a drink would be great," Frank mumbled. The response was so unlike Frank that Gerard wondered if the boy was still half-asleep. "For real?" Gerard asked, clawing under his bed for a can. "You know these have calories, right?"

"Oh, fuck you," Frank flipped him off as he sat up, taking the beer. Gerard grabbed one for himself, too. They sat in silence for a long time, and Gerard was beginning to wonder if Frank planned on spending the entire drink in silence before the guy spoke up, asking Gerard the question that would convince him his heart had stopped beating right in his chest. "Gerard, how did you know you were gay?"

Gerard tried his best to hide his spiritual cardiac failure, taking his time to swallow the last of his can before replying, "Asking for a friend, I presume?"

"Whatever," Frank rolled his eyes, and Gerard laughed. "I don't know, man," He started. "I guess it just took a while. I had to try things out with some people; find what I like and what I didn't."

"So, what you're saying is to become a slut," Frank pointed out, and Gerard objected hastily. "No," He cut in. "What I'm saying is that you've got to give it time." Gerard tilted his head to the side, thinking. "Okay, and maybe be a slut. But just a little bit."