Gerard slams against the tree, taking in a short breath when pain sparks up in his shoulder and runs rapid.
Frank's hand takes purchase in his sweater, his arm's weight keeping Gerard's pinned to the bark. He sees muscles bulge under the ink before him like a body under silk.
A body, shrouded in shadow from the foliage above, stands twenty feet away. Frank's vision of the person is cut from the trees and bush blocking the way, but he doesn't let his gaze waver even for a minute. Gerard's hands cup the one he has gripped in his sweatshirt, but he doesn't let go.
Red floods Frank's vision, mixing with the green of the forest and turning everything a murky burgundy. When he shakes his head slightly, some still lingers.
Gerard drops his head a bit back against the tree, eyes jumping from the body in the green across them to the back of Frank's hand to his still injured ankle.
The air is tense, heavy with mixing scents of wood and Frank's aggression. The air bites at Gerard's pink cheeks, hurting his chest as he takes in open mouthed breaths. The figure suddenly steps closer, shards of light running across his face.
Frank's growl makes Gerard's hair stand on end, low and menacing and right there. His legs twitch with the need to either run away or collapse under his weight. He can't tell which.
Gerard leans forward over Frank's shoulder form where he still leans against the tree slightly in front of him.
Blond hair sticks out of his head in uneven tuffs, growing around his mouth and jaw into something between scruff and a full on beard. Gerard looks down to the makeshift spilt around his arm. Branches gripping his dirty arm and held in place by various woven vines and leaves.
The two meet eyes, the man's icy blue ones almost familiar. They seem more alive here than wherever Gerard had seen them somewhere before.
Frank doesn't waste a look back, still keeping Gerard against the pinned behind him. All his weight on his good ankle and against the tree.
More realistic and alive from a photograph, Gerard thinks. He stands still and only slightly slouched now, unfazed by the silence between the three.
But duller than a true form.
"Bob. Your name is Bob Bryar." He says, voice loud, clear and slight nasally. Gerard sees the man prick up, taking the step closer.
He nods silently.
Gerard looks to Frank, his broad shoulder hiding the lower portion of Bob's body. His eyes follow the arm connecting to the fist clenched in his sweater.
Cupping the warm hand, its grip loosens the slightest at his touch, Gerard kissing the skin and cupping it to his chest. Fingers grapple out to pinch at Gerard's as he walks out from behind Frank, keeping him close.
Bob watches silently, like Gerard knows he will. He looks over him. The blond hair is darker than he remembers it in this lighting. As they meet eyes, Gerard watches himself through Bob's. Flashes of two wolves, an omega and limping alpha running through the woods, the smaller brown one breaking ground almost too fast for the other to keep up.
Gerard drops Frank's hand.
"You'll be coming with us."
*
Folders spread all over the mahogany, ruffled through and papers all pointing so Gerard can read them. The room is warm, the fire place behind the monstrous desk at the back glowing with red embers. Smoke spirals from it in hypnotic, rhythmic puffs.
Frank slouches like a stubborn toddler, fingers laced together and his elbows on the armrests of his chair. Anthony slumps back in his own, rolling his eyes at his twin and smiling softly in amusement.
The man-child was livid. A rouge, by his omega. Frank bounces his knee, tense and watching Bob, who sits across from them, like a hawk.
Gerard sits next to Frank in a desk chair, at the head of the table. He pays no mind to the fuming alpha and amused beta sat on either side of him.
Bob sits at the other end of the long table, close enough to hear Gerard but far enough from a dangerous Frank.
The teen looks down to the papers in front of him, eyes falling on a certain picture of a small, brown eyes omega.
"Have you seen any omegas in the forest since the.....fight?" Gerard's doesn't know to call it a fight or war at this point. Sure, hundreds of wolves killing everything that wasn't their own in a small valley counted as a fight. But a war needed a motive, reasons. Wolves were territorial and aggressive. But, Gerard sensed what happened less than a week ago had much more meaning than border patrol.
"A big group of em' passed me towards the east, but they ran as soon as they saw me."
"They have their reasons." Gerard murmurs, sifting through glossy pages. Frank and Anthony stay silent, something out of character for the former. They watch the two converse, breaking their rhythm of back and forth glances to give each other looks.
"Are you mated?"
"No."
"Do you remember me?"
"Of course." The twins look to each other on instinct, brows raising and eyes widening in silent conversation.
"Why were you kicked out?" Gerard asks, thin pale lips molding the words and spewing them into the air to hang. Bob sighs, tired.
"I didn't agree with what Bert stood for, what he did to you. It wasn't right. I was cast a rouge."
"Rouges don't save omegas from hypothermia in the middle of a fall night for no reason." The words sway in the air, maybe from the chandelier or an invisible hook and string. Bob takes longer to grab, eat, and digest them now.
"Who was going to do it if I didn't?" Bob whispers. Gerard looks to Frank, whose hands wrap around the chair's armrests like clamps. Anthony focuses on the veins that run up his brother's arms, right up to the one bulging in his neck.
"You're right I suppose." Gerard whispers back, lips pulling into a half smirk as he moves out form the table, the wheels on his chair making no sound on the carpet.
"I'll show you to your room, then." He says, walking down the length of the desk and opening one of the big wooden doors. Bob follows quickly, Frank and Anthony watching as Gerard lets the door slip closed. They listen silently to their foot steps down the corridor.
"He's the luna kind, that one." Anthony murmurs, looking to his brother, who sits with his chin on his hand in thought. His elbow braced on the left armrest.
"Yeah, he's a special one."
*
Tada! Sorry about my two week hiatus, with the end of the year testing and all that ish.
This chapter was alright in my eyes, it was more of a filler than a plot point. Still important none the less.
I'm still trying to get back into the swing of writing. This story's chapters are a bit harder to write than my other series, as much more thought goes into them.
My new updating schedule is unknown at this point for the Summer, but I expect things will be coming to you guys sooner. If not, updates will usually be on Sundays.
How are you all? Feel free to rant and shit. I know we're all secretly angsty twelve year old girls.
Votes and comments are always appreciated. I'll see you peoples soon!
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Belonging
Fanfiction"It didn't feel right, nothing did anymore, the names and faces would jumble out through his ears at night anyway. They didn't fit right there, and Gerard knows they never will." YOU ASKED FOR IT AND I GAVE IT TO YOU. I DON'T KNOW WHY EVERYONE WANT...
