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silentdescanttitle: Promises, Promises (Don’t Send Me Back In 30 Days)
warning: Strong non-con/dub-con scenes; potential squicks and triggers. Stockholm Syndrome; non-con/dub-con sex (oral and penetrative); Dominance/submission; bondage (handcuffs); forced cross-dressing/feminization; criminal activity; violence; blood/bruising; handwaving elements of the American justice system.
part 1
part 2
part 3
**********
+ 2 days
Gerard’s hand was nearly crushing Frank’s as they walked together through the grocery store. Frank hadn’t been able to stop playing with the hem of his skirt, and Gerard had grabbed his hand and held tight, hissing, “Don’t do that,” in Frank’s ear.
Frank felt like all eyes were on him, or on them, and he didn’t know which was worse. “Everyone’s looking at me,” he whispered nervously.
“It’s ‘cause you’re so fucking pretty,” Gerard replied, tugging Frank along. “Come on, Frankie. Swing your hips a bit, you’re a girl.”
“Is this fucking fun for you?” Frank snapped.
“Fucking is fun, yeah,” Gerard answered blithely. “Now shut up and come on, we shouldn’t stay too long.”
“Then let’s just go!”
“No.” Gerard let go of Frank’s hand and instead grabbed his wrist and twisted. “We haven’t finished shopping, and I want to show off my sexy girl.”
“Gee, please,” Frank whispered. He tried to yank his arm out of Gerard’s grasp.
Gerard pulled Frank into an empty aisle in the frozen food section and slammed him up against the cold glass doors face-first, grinding his hips on Frank’s ass. Frank was sure the skirt was riding up far enough to give him away. Gerard slid one hand up beneath the skirt and dug his fingernails into the crease between Frank’s ass and his thigh, painful even through the thick stockings.
“Don’t fucking test me, Frankie,” Gerard hissed, “you know I don’t have a problem with hurting you.”
Frank nodded, his cheek sliding against the glass. His breath made a foggy cloud of condensation.
“I’m gonna fuck you in that fucking slutty little skirt, Frankie, and you’re going to fucking love it, you hear me? Answer me.”
“Yes,” Frank replied.
“Turn around.”
Frank did, still pressed up against the cold glass, and avoided Gerard’s eyes. Gerard took Frank’s chin in his hand and forced him to look up.
“I don’t need you, Frankie, and you’re just lucky that I want you. Do not disobey me. Understand?”
“Yes,” Frank whispered. Gerard tapped his cheek sharply—not quite a slap, but close—and let him go.
***
Half an hour later, Frank was on his knees in the passenger seat of Gerard’s car, leaning over the center console with Gerard’s dick in his mouth. Gerard held both of his wrists tight behind his back, and his other hand was in Frank’s hair, pushing him down. It was uncomfortable and Frank was probably showing his ass to everyone who walked by the car, but he understood that this was punishment for not cooperating.
“Take it, Frankie, come on, fucking take it, yeah, there,” Gerard muttered, thrusting his hips up and holding Frank in place. Frank tried to relax his throat and concentrate on not gagging. He could barely breathe. “Fuck, yeah, Frankie, take it.”
Frank’s spit was sliding down his chin, like before, and it caught and stuck on Gerard’s dark pubic hair every time he pushed Frank down far enough. It didn’t take long for Gerard to come; he laced the fingers of both hands through Frank’s hair, tugging and holding him in the right position and ordering him to swallow. Frank did, if only because he couldn’t spit with Gerard’s dick still in his mouth, and Gerard let him up.
“You’re a fucking mess,” Gerard said.
Frank could feel it, sticky wetness all over his face and throat, and his hair tangled and standing on end. His eyes were wet with tears and his lip was bleeding. He nodded.
“Should I let you clean up before we get out of here? Or do you want to walk around like this?”
“Please let me clean up,” Frank whispered.
“Maybe I should just leave you tied up next time I go out,” Gerard mused.
“No!”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“No, don’t, please,” Frank cried. He remembered vividly the horrible ache in his chest from being abandoned like that, the loneliness and the uncertainty, and the more physical ache in his shoulders from being unable to move for hours on end. “I’ll be good, I promise,” he said. “Please don’t leave me like that again, please.”
Gerard reached around to the back seat and pulled out the makeup kit. He tossed it into Frank’s lap. “Clean yourself up,” he said coldly, “and don’t piss me off.”
**********
+ 23 days
“Frankie, tell me about Gerard.”
Frank looked up and smiled like he was trying not to but couldn’t keep it off his face. “We had sex the first time on the fifth night.”
Ray really shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d suspected, of course, but to hear Frank say it… Ray made a note and asked, “Did anything happen before the fifth night?”
“Yeah,” Frank said, shrugging, “but that was the night we slept together.”
Ray scribbled down that Frank didn’t want to talk about what happened before the fifth night and smiled encouragingly at him. “How did it start? Who instigated it?”
“I did,” Frank replied immediately.
“Did you kiss him?” Ray asked carefully.
“No…” Frank said. “We didn’t kiss.”
**********
+ 4 days
“Gee, please, can’t I wear something normal?” Frank asked while Gerard was getting dressed. On the bed, there was a pink t-shirt and the same black skirt as yesterday, waiting for him.
“I told you why you have to wear it; do you really want to start a fight with me right now?” Gerard snapped. Frank chalked Gerard’s bad mood up to the six hours they’d spent driving to a new motel.
“Nobody knows me here,” Frank replied reasonably.
“I don’t care if anybody knows you,” Gerard said. “I care if they recognize you. Now get dressed and cleaned up, I don’t have time for this.”
“Come on, Gerard, nobody’s going to recognize—”
Gerard grabbed a fistful of Frank’s hair and forced him to his knees. He leaned over him, ignoring Frank’s shout, and took his chin in his other hand, wrenching his mouth open and holding him still. “Damn right nobody’s going to fucking recognize you, because nobody fucking cares about you anymore. Nobody gives a shit about you, least of all me. Shut the fuck up and get dressed, I’m not gonna tell you again.”
Frank knew even before the words left his mouth that he was pushing his luck. “So I can wear my jeans, then?”
Gerard slapped him hard across the face.
Frank let out his breath and took a moment to calm down. His hair was hanging over his face and his left cheek felt like it was on fire. He looked up at Gerard through the clumpy mess of hair.
“I told you not to fucking test me,” Gerard spat. “I don’t have to keep you, you know.”
“Then let me go.”
“Not a fucking snowball’s chance in hell,” he laughed. “Next time it won’t be your face I’ll be slapping.”
Frank thought he could probably take Gerard in a fist fight. He’d been in a few and done alright, and Gerard wasn’t exactly a body builder. But Gerard had a gun. That weighted the odds a little bit. Frank picked the skirt up off the bed.
“Good boy.”
***
+ 5 days
Gerard left Frank cuffed to the bed while he showered and dressed, and then while he set up his laptop and chatted with Mikey on his headset. Frank waited quietly; Gerard wouldn’t leave him tied up forever. He watched Gerard eat breakfast and brush his teeth, write in a spiral-bound notebook, and read the music news blogs. Then Gerard put on his shoes and leather jacket and headed for the door.
“Wait,” Frank cried, breaking the silence. “Please don’t leave.”
“Is there any reason I should stay?” Gerard asked, not even turning around to look at Frank.
Frank licked his lips. “I’m sorry.”
Gerard glanced back at him.
“I’m sorry about yesterday; I don’t know what I was thinking. It won’t happen again, I swear. Please don’t leave me.”
“You swear?” Gerard asked. He walked over to the bed and looked down his nose at Frank. “Why should I trust you, Frankie?”
Frank licked his lips again. “I won’t disobey you again, Gee, I promise.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Gerard said. “We both know that’s not true.”
“I’ll try, please, I’m trying. I’m going to try.”
“What do you even want, Frank?”
“I just don’t want to be alone. Everything else… I don’t care.”
“You want me to untie you?”
“I don’t mind it, as long as you’re here,” Frank answered truthfully.
“You hungry? Want something to eat?”
Frank shrugged as best he could with his wrists cuffed to the headboard.
“You want to get dressed?”
Frank shrugged again. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I won’t do that again.”
Gerard pulled the necklace with the two handcuff keys out from underneath his shirt and flicked them back and forth on the chain. He stared down at Frank but didn’t make eye contact. Finally, he came to a decision. He unlocked Frank’s hands.
“Take a shower and get dressed. There’s leftovers from last night in the fridge. When you’re done, maybe we’ll get out of here.”
Frank nodded and waited for Gerard to let go of his wrists, but Gerard didn’t. He brought them together and locked the handcuffs around them again.
“I’ll let you out to put a shirt on and that’s it.”
“Okay.”
They stared at each other for a moment before Gerard nodded and said, “Go.”
**********
+ 23 days
“We’d just gotten back to the motel,” Frank explained in a low voice that Ray had to strain to hear. “I was wearing the skirt he bought me.”
“He bought you a skirt?” Ray prompted gently.
“To wear out,” Frank said. “Because I couldn’t wear pants. But I was teasing him. I don’t even know why, I guess I just wanted to provoke a reaction. I baited him, and he slammed me into a wall in the bathroom at the mall, and he asked if I wanted him to fuck me right there, where anyone could walk in and see us, and me with my skirt.”
Ray watched Frank’s face as he told the story, watched how Frank lost himself in it and seemed to relax. Most likely comforted by memory and not reality, reliving the past because it was a known quantity rather than face the uncertain present, where he had no control.
“I said no,” Frank continued, staring down at his hands. He started to smile. “He told me he’d fuck me back in the room, so we left.”
**********
+ 5 days
Gerard swiped the key through the lock and pushed Frank into the room. He stumbled, and then Gerard was there behind him, pressing him up against the wall as he kicked the door closed behind them.
“You just like to fucking push me, don’t you, Frankie?” Gerard asked, biting down hard on Frank’s earlobe and then dragging his teeth down Frank’s throat to his shoulder, where he bit again.
Frank didn’t answer, just pushed back against Gerard’s body, and Gerard grabbed his wrists and stretched them over their heads against the wall, grinding his dick against Frank’s ass, hot even through the denim.
“Get on the fucking bed and take your shirt off,” Gerard growled. Frank did as Gerard asked and lay down on his back, waiting. When Gerard joined him on the bed, he was holding the handcuffs and the blindfold he’d bought at the store.
Frank started to shake his head when he saw the blindfold, but Gerard just glared at him and fitted the mask over his face. It fit better than the piece of cloth Gerard had used before, and it didn’t slip when Frank rubbed his head against the pillow, which Gerard yanked out from underneath him. Unable to see, Frank listened closely for clues as to what Gerard was doing, where he would move next.
He wasn’t quite prepared for Gerard to cuff him to the headboard, although he knew it was coming. Gerard snapped the cuffs tightly around Frank’s wrists and bit Frank’s jaw, muttering, “I should’ve bought the handcuffs without the padding, I don’t know why I let you fucking choose…”
Then Gerard disappeared and Frank heard the distinct sounds of his jeans unzipping and falling to the floor, and then the rustling he presumed was Gerard taking off his shirt.
“Put your fucking legs up, Frankie,” Gerard hissed. Frank lifted his legs, knees bent, and spread them, guided by Gerard’s insistent hands.
“You’re a fucking tease,” Gerard continued. “You were teasing everyone in that fucking store, Frankie. They can’t fucking have you. You’re mine, and you shouldn’t fucking tease me.”
“Sorry,” Frank breathed, tilting his head back against the bed. The blindfold made him disoriented, even though he could feel the bed beneath him and the solid, firm wall against his hands.
“You’re not sorry,” Gerard said. “You wanted this; you love this, don’t you? You’re hard already, Frankie, don’t fucking lie to me. You can’t lie to me.”
Frank shifted back and stretched out one leg, searching for Gerard.
“Nuh-uh-uh,” Gerard admonished, batting Frank’s leg away. “You’re my fucking whore, Frankie; this isn’t about what you want.”
Frank groaned and moved back into position, tugging uselessly at the cuffs. He wondered if begging would help. “I’m yours, Gee, please,” he said quietly.
Finally, he felt Gerard kneel between his legs, and then Gerard lifted the skirt up around Frank’s waist, pointedly ignoring Frank’s cock.
“You fucking love this skirt, I can tell,” Gerard murmured silkily. “I’m not sure you even have a dick, the way you walk around in these fucking clothes, like they were made for you. Or like you were made for them. I bet you fucking wish you were a girl, don’t you, Frankie? Such a pretty fucking girl, with a fucking wet cunt and no underwear on underneath this short fucking skirt. Ready for anyone to stick it in, aren’t you, you fucking slut.”
Frank exhaled loudly and concentrated on Gerard’s voice. He didn’t really sound angry anymore; he was off in a fantasy, and Frank was part of that, and reality didn’t matter. Frank liked that, he liked forgetting about the things he didn’t like. He moaned and urged Gerard to continue.
“Tell me how much you want it, Frankie? How much do you want my cock in your cunt? Tell me.”
“I want it,” Frank whispered.
“Tell me.”
“I want your cock in my cunt,” Frank cried. “I want you in me, please!”
“What if I want to fuck your sweet little ass, Frankie? I should’ve bought a fucking dildo for you or something.”
“Mmm, please, please fuck me,” Frank moaned. “Fuck my ass, please, Gee, please—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Gerard hissed, and then he was pressing his cock against Frank’s perineum and Frank was pushing back against him. “I’ll get the gag if I need to.”
“No, I’ll be good, I promise,” Frank said quickly. Gerard thrust against him for a moment, the head of his cock up against Frank’s balls, and it was really fucking hot and so fucking good, and Frank arched his back and moaned again. Then, because he knew Gerard wanted it, he said, “I’ll be a good girl, I promise.”
He was rewarded with the sound of Gerard actually moaning Frank’s name and grasping Frank’s knee tightly. Gerard didn’t waste any time prepping Frank, just reached down with one hand and pushed his cock into Frank’s ass without further warning. Frank whined and squeezed his legs together around Gerard’s body. He considered crossing his ankles and pulling Gerard further into him, but then thought better of it. Frank was sure Gerard wouldn’t appreciate the gesture in the way it was meant.
Gerard reached up with his other hand and stuck three fingers into Frank’s mouth. Frank sucked them in and wrapped his tongue around them, even when Gerard pushed too far back and Frank felt like he was choking. He gagged and a thick drop of spit slid out the bottom of his mouth.
“Fucking dirty slut,” Gerard murmured, withdrawing his hand, and bent down to lick his way into Frank’s mouth. Gerard’s tongue was much more welcome than his fingers, and Gerard kissed him fiercely. Frank didn’t do much of anything but take the onslaught, barely able to focus at all with Gerard’s dick hot and hard inside him.
“You want to fucking come, don’t you?” Gerard asked.
Frank had actually forgotten about his own cock, ignored as it was between them. Gerard was just so much more important than that, in Frank’s mind. He demanded Frank’s full attention, and Frank gave it without thinking. It was so much easier to concentrate on what Gerard needed from him, because he wasn’t even sure what he wanted for himself. He couldn’t remember ever feeling that way about the other people he’d fucked. It was always about getting himself off and then getting the fuck out.
Gerard slid his wet hand down Frank’s chest until he reached Frank’s dick and closed his fist around it, and then, yeah, then Frank wanted to come. He wanted Gerard to jerk him off, wanted to suck Gerard’s cock, wanted Gerard to finger him open until Frank was ready to come again.
“Yes, yes, please,” Frank finally answered with a short cry. “I want to come, please let me come.”
“Not until I’m done,” Gerard said, and Frank felt a little thrill of satisfaction. He spread his legs wider and forced himself back to meet Gerard’s thrusts.
It didn’t really take long for Gerard to come inside him. He kissed and sucked and bit Frank’s chest and throat, muffling his own noises, and Frank just stayed pliant and took it, took everything. Gerard left his cock inside Frank after he’d finished, and, breathing heavily, finally kissed Frank on the mouth again.
“You better lick it all off my fucking fingers,” he said when he pulled back, and for a second, Frank didn’t know what Gerard was talking about.
But then Gerard stroked him once, fully, up to the tip and then down to the base, fingers tight and brutal and exactly what Frank needed, and Frank remembered. His hips came up off the bed of their own accord as he thrust into Gerard’s hand, but Gerard just pushed him down and held him there.
“I don’t fucking think so,” he said with a breathless laugh.
Frank was so wired that he was ready to come already, as long as Gerard didn’t disappear. He wanted it to last, though. It was the first time Gerard had really touched him, certainly the first time Gerard had ever paid any attention to Frank’s dick when he fucked Frank.
“You love being my girl, don’t you Frankie,” he whispered. “How much do you want to come? Should I let you?”
“Yes, please let me, Gee, please let me come, Jesus Christ, I need it,” Frank cried shrilly as Gerard twisted his hand and squeezed.
“You need it?” Gerard taunted, and Frank could hear the grin in his tone.
“I need it, I need you, please let me come, please…”
“Then come,” Gerard said simply. It was enough for Frank. He arched up off the bed, following Gerard’s hand on the upstroke, and came with a loud shout that Gerard silenced with his tongue between Frank’s lips.
His orgasm left Frank feeling weak all over, completely boneless, and Gerard kissed him through it, keeping him grounded. Frank’s hands relaxed on the bed; he couldn’t even feel the cuffs anymore. After a moment, Gerard pulled away and wiped his fingers through the mess on Frank’s stomach and brought them to Frank’s lips.
Frank poked his tongue out and tasted himself on Gerard’s fingers, and waited for Gerard to push them into Frank’s mouth. He didn’t, though; he left a sticky mess on Frank’s lower lip and let Frank take his time sucking his come off Gerard’s skin. He continued to lick and suck long after he’d cleaned Gerard up, and Gerard murmured appreciatively.
“Go to sleep, Frankie,” Gerard ordered softly. He gently planted a kiss on Frank’s sweaty forehead and left him tied up and blindfolded while he went to shower.
***
+ 8 days
Driving through the desert was boring as hell. The monotony gave Frank too much time to think, and his own mind was driving him crazy. Frank’s hands shook even as he clasped them together in his lap. He thought he was hyperventilating, but Gerard wasn’t acting like anything was wrong, so he suspected it was only in his head. The brown, dusty sand whizzed by outside his window, making him dizzy. He didn’t stop staring at it.
Then Gerard did look over at him with a confused expression. “Frank?”
Frank clutched his stomach, suddenly nauseated. He groaned. “Pull over,” he mumbled. “I’m going to be sick.”
There weren’t any other cars on the road; Gerard pulled off into the dirt, tires kicking up a cloud of dust as the car jerked to a halt. Frank opened the door and tumbled out, scrambling away as quickly has he could manage on his knees.
The dust tickled Frank’s throat and he coughed, trying to clear his lungs; it progressed into dry heaves, but nothing came up. Frank heard Gerard running over to him.
“Frank? Frank!” He stopped a few feet away.
Frank turned around, still huddled on his knees, and stared tearfully up at him. Gerard’s brow was wrinkled with concern and he stretched out a hand to Frank.
“You okay?” he asked carefully. He closed the distance between them.
Frank reached past Gerard’s hand and into the pocket of his jacket, fingers closing immediately around the gun. He yanked it out and crab-walked backwards. Gerard didn’t move, and his expression didn’t change.
“If you aren’t going to let me go, just fucking shoot me already,” Frank cried. He looked down at the gun and wiped tears from his cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt. “Are there even fucking bullets in this fucking thing?”
“Yes,” Gerard answered.
“If you don’t fucking kill me, I’ll just do it myself,” Frank said. He stroked the handle of the gun with his thumb, getting a feel for the weight. It was heavier than he expected. He held it up against the side of his head. “Please just kill me.”
“Why?” Gerard asked. He didn’t seem particularly worried about Frank waving the gun around.
“Why?” Frank screeched. “My life is shit. My parents are dead. I’m a month late on my rent already, and I got fired from my shitty minimum wage job at fucking Wal-Mart the day before I met you. I don’t have any family left, and none of my friends remember me, ever. I’m drowning in student loans and I didn’t even finish two years at college. My dog died last week. I got kidnapped in a fucking bank robbery. Should I go on?”
Gerard cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. After a moment, he crossed his arms over his chest. “So you want to die.”
“The only reason I’m still alive is that you want me as some kind of—of—of sex toy or something, I don’t fucking know. You don’t need me anymore and you’re not going to let me go. Just put me out of my fucking misery.”
“Okay.”
Frank lifted his head. Gerard held his hand out again, this time reaching for the gun. “You’ll do it?”
Gerard nodded. Frank handed the gun over and wiped furiously at his eyes. He could feel the dirt caking his skin, gritty in his eyes when he rubbed them. Sniffling didn’t make it any easier to breathe, and his heart was pounding erratically in his chest. Frank sat back on his heels and stared up at Gerard. He didn’t know what to do with his hands.
Gerard calmly aimed the gun at him, face blank and eyes clear. Frank didn’t like staring down the barrel, so he closed his eyes. The gunshot was louder than Frank expected, a deafening bang that echoed in his ears. He jumped, his entire body tensing at once, and his eyes flew open. His throat closed up and he felt sick again, but this time he couldn’t breathe even to puke.
Gerard was still holding the gun in front of him, aimed down at the dirt, and it was smoking slightly. The grey smoke mixed with the dust that was gently blowing away from the small crater the bullet left in the ground.
“You don’t want to die,” Gerard said slowly. “I’ve been suicidal before. You’re not there yet. Get up.”
“What?” Frank gasped.
“All that shit you said? None of it matters anymore. Get up and get back in the car.”
Frank stared at him. His hands were shaking worse than before. Gerard’s hands were perfectly still.
“Get in the car, Frank.”
Neither of them moved for a full minute, and then Frank nodded and wordlessly rose to his feet, walked past Gerard, and sat back down in the passenger seat. He buckled his seatbelt, closed the door, and exhaled slowly. The adrenaline rush was making him jittery, and he took another deep breath to calm down.
Gerard put the gun in the trunk of the car. He climbed in and turned the key. The car stuttered to a start and Gerard pulled back onto the road. They didn’t talk, and Frank kept taking deep breaths.
***
+ 10 days
Gerard hadn’t touched him since the incident with the gun, except to handcuff him to hotel beds at night. They didn’t talk much, and it wasn’t about what happened when they did. Frank couldn’t let it go.
“Hey, Gerard?” he asked hesitantly. “Back there, in Texas or wherever-the-fuck, you said I didn’t want to die.” Gerard nodded and didn’t look away from the road. Frank licked his lips. “How did you know?”
“If you really wanted to, you’d have just done it. Why ask me to do it for you?” Gerard answered simply.
“What if I wanted you to choose?”
“What?” Gerard asked. “You want me to look at your life and tell you whether or not it’s worth living? That’s just stupid, Frank.”
“No, it’s not,” Frank protested. Gerard threw him a look he couldn’t read. “You said you’ve been suicidal before,” he prompted.
“Yeah.”
“What saved you?”
Gerard looked over at him. “Nothing.”
***
+ 12 days
Frank didn’t pry any more after that, but he was still curious. He wanted to know more about Gerard, more about all the things Gerard knew about himself and about Frank. Because he actually knew a lot about Frank, a truly surprising amount about Frank’s feelings. Frank started to think that Gerard knew him better than Frank knew himself. He wanted to know Gerard in the same way.
Things he knew about Gerard: sometimes Gerard slept fitfully, but he never woke up from his nightmares; Gerard drank a lot of coffee in the morning and at night, and Frank wasn’t sure if Gerard ever actually slept some nights; Gerard liked quiet while he was driving; Gerard liked Frank’s tattoos.
Frank knew that last one because Gerard had said so, during one of their more candid conversations. Gerard was still very vague, though, and it was frustrating to ask questions and get ambiguous answers. Gerard was a mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a sexy leather jacket, and Frank just wanted more.
That night, Gerard fell asleep early while curled up in his pajamas, watching TV, and he’d forgotten to lock Frank in the handcuffs, which he’d done every single night previous. Frank figured Gerard must be exhausted, keeping up with Frank while on the run from the police, staying at crappy motels and driving all day. He reached carefully over Gerard for the remote and switched the TV off, then took off his clothes and slid slowly between the sheets.
Gerard didn’t move. He was sound asleep. Frank figured he could probably get away with kissing Gerard goodnight, but he played it safe and just kissed him on the cheek. Gerard didn’t even stir. Frank put his head down on the pillow and watched Gerard sleep until his own eyelids closed. He didn’t even glance at the door.
***
+ 13 days
When Frank woke up, he was curled against Gerard’s side with an arm over Gerard’s chest, and Gerard’s arm around his shoulders. He looked up and saw that Gerard was awake, cup of coffee firmly in hand.
“I forgot to cuff you,” he said, and Frank nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“You needed the sleep,” Frank replied.
“Next time, cuff yourself.” Gerard said. “Understood?” Frank nodded again.
“I should’ve—”
“It’s fine,” Gerard cut him off quickly. “You didn’t know. I’m glad you stayed, though.”
Frank was confused for a few seconds. He glanced at the door, but the feeling of longing was gone. “I didn’t even think of leaving,” he admitted quietly.
Gerard petted his hair. “Good,” he whispered.
***
+ 15 days
They settled into a routine, of sorts. Sometimes Gerard talked to Frank, and sometimes he ignored him; Frank still couldn’t pinpoint any particular reason, but on the days Gerard didn’t feel like talking, Frank stayed quiet and obedient. He’d learned that quiet Gerard meant Gerard was deep into his own head, and he got angry when interrupted.
Frank liked it when Gerard talked to him, though. He’d gradually become comfortable enough with Gerard to reply without working himself into a panic about what Gerard would think or do or say in reaction. Surprisingly, he and Gerard actually shared interests, especially in comic books, a topic that fueled several long hours’ worth of conversation and debate.
As awful as it was, Gerard was Frank’s best friend. They’d connected at some point during their time together. Frank didn’t know when it had happened, but the more he thought about Gerard, the more he couldn’t imagine them not becoming friends. Gerard had never been mean to him without reason, and he’d always kept his promises. And most of the time, he was a great conversationalist.
Frank’s other so-called friends were people he’d met at work, or in his short time at Rutgers, and he’d yet to find anyone as intelligent and charming as Gerard. Frank’s other friends told him all about parties and clubs they frequented, while conveniently forgetting to invite him, not that Frank could afford cover charges or expensive cocktails anyway. Frank’s other friends didn’t share or appreciate Frank’s interests or passions, they didn’t like the same kinds of music, and they didn’t care about him.
Frank and Gerard had only had sex a few times, and Frank had to admit it was the best sex he’d had in… years. Which was kind of pathetic, Frank knew. Sometimes Gerard caught his gaze and held it, even as he came, moaning and thrusting hard into Frank’s ass or his mouth. He didn’t look smug about it, and Frank thought maybe it was because he was offering himself up to Gerard voluntarily, sometimes eagerly. Truthfully, Frank looked forward to the times Gerard yanked him close for a biting kiss that left Frank’s lower lip bloody, and then pushed him down to his knees. The sex was satisfying even when Gerard didn’t let him come. Sometimes it was even more satisfying, to be left wanting more of Gerard. He’d been worrying about himself all his life, and this was different; he could finally let go of that tension and concentrate on Gerard.
Frank felt that connection between them intensify whenever Gerard fucked him, and he thought Gerard could feel it too.
Frank was on his knees, sweaty forehead resting against Gerard’s bare hip as they both caught their breath when he blurted it out. He nuzzled against the top of Gerard’s thigh, eyes closed and hair sticking to his cheeks, and whispered, “I love you.”
Gerard wasn’t moving, but Frank noticed when he froze stiff, muscles tense.
“You don’t love me,” he said firmly.
Frank hadn’t quite realized he’d said that out loud. He blinked twice, eyelashes brushing Gerard’s skin, and replayed the moment in his head. “I love you,” he repeated, more sure of himself the second time.
Gerard lifted his hand to Frank’s cheek and brushed aside the wet strands of hair. His thumb swiped over Frank’s cheek a second time, and then again, and Gerard sighed and backed away without answering.
Frank told himself sternly not to be upset. Of course Gerard didn’t think of him that way. He’d picked Frank up by mistake. He didn’t want Frank with him anyway.
It still hurt, though.
**********
+ 23 days
It was becoming increasingly obvious by the way Frank talked about Gerard that something had developed between them. Ray still wasn’t sure whether Gerard shared Frank’s feelings or whether it was all in Frank’s mind, if he was forming connections and imagined relationships where there was really nothing.
“The first time you slept together,” Ray began slowly, “was that the first time you had sex?”
“No,” Frank answered simply, finally looking up and meeting Ray’s eyes. He apparently still didn’t want to talk about what happened before that night, but Ray was sure that if he commanded it, Frank would tell him. He hated to manipulate the kid like that, though, after all he’d been through.
“Why was that the first time you slept together, then?”
“He let me come. He made me come. He kissed me.”
“He hadn’t kissed you before that?”
“It was different.”
“Okay.” Ray nodded. “Okay. So then how did things evolve from that point?”
“I fell in love with him,” Frank replied candidly.
“You fell in love with him,” Ray echoed. It felt like something was stuck in his throat. What had Gerard done to the poor boy that made him think this was love?
**********
+ 19 days
“I talked to the director,” Brian began softly, closing the office door behind him. “Bob, maybe you shouldn’t be getting so involved, you know?”
“Bri, don’t give me that.”
“No, listen. You got emotionally attached to this kid, and we’re just afraid…”
“Afraid of what?” Bob snapped.
“We’re afraid that we’ll have to start looking for a body,” Brian finished calmly.
“No.”
“Bob, it’s been over two weeks,” he reasoned. “We haven’t seen a trace of either of them, and we haven’t gotten any demands. Why would the guy keep him alive after all this time?”
“He’s counting on me, Brian,” Bob replied vehemently. “I saw him, that day at the bank, I saw his face. He was so fucking scared, Brian, and I told him I would help him. I have to help him, I promised. You didn’t see his face at the bank. He needs me. I promised I would fucking save him.”
“Bryar, what the hell are you going to do when the kid turns up in a fucking body bag? I’ll tell you what you’re going to do: you’re gonna go to pieces. It’s tragic, okay, but you don’t know him, and you can’t start putting the blame on yourself. It’s that psycho we have to catch.”
“He’s not dead.”
“You don’t know that,” Brian said quickly. He softened, though, and conceded, “He might not be dead. But chances are small, and they’re getting smaller every hour.”
“We have to catch him,” Bob replied.
Brian sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Bob… Promise me you won’t blame yourself when this all goes wrong.”
**********
+ 20 days
They were on their way back to Jersey. According to Gerard, enough time had passed that the spotlight was off them, and if they were careful, they could maybe stop running. Frank wasn’t so sure, but he trusted Gerard’s opinion. They avoided major roads and cities; they weren’t in any great rush. Gerard said that he needed to see his brother, and that’s all there was to it.
Frank drove for a few hours up the coastline, the ocean on their right, until they finally reached a beach town with a decent-sized convenience store. Gerard told him to pull in.
“What do you need?” Frank asked.
“Food for tomorrow,” Gerard replied shortly. “We can’t make any stops once we get closer in case we’re seen.”
Frank nodded and handed Gerard the car keys. Neither of them moved. Frank swallowed and, staring at the top of the steering wheel, asked, “What are you going to do when we get back to Belleville?” Frank could feel Gerard’s eyes on him but he forced himself not to look up.
“You mean what am I going to do with you?”
Frank nodded.
Gerard hesitated for a moment before answering, almost long enough to make Frank look up. “I can’t let you go,” he said finally. “You’ll come with me.”
“To see Mikey?”
“I’ll find somewhere to take you. I can’t let you go.”
“I know,” Frank whispered. He didn’t say, I don’t want you to. He was afraid of Gerard pulling away from him, and it felt like he had been ever since Frank let slip the L-word.
Gerard took a breath and determinedly stuffed his wallet and the keys into his pockets. “Come on, let’s get some food for tomorrow.”
Nobody gave them a second glance inside the store, which was almost deserted anyway. Gerard headed towards the snack aisle, Frank trailing dutifully behind carrying the basket, and started pulling things off the shelves as he passed them. Frank hurried after him and organized the chips and crackers and sodas into the basket so nothing would squish and crunch. Gerard then pointed Frank to the produce section.
“Go pick out whatever you want and come to me in the freezer aisle,” he murmured under his breath. “You’ll come to me, won’t you, Frankie?”
“Yes,” Frank replied, just as quiet.
Gerard gave him a tiny grin. “Go, then. You have eight minutes.”
Frank darted away and began throwing things into the basket. Apples were easy for road trips. Maybe carrot sticks, too. Grapes? Tomatoes? He wondered whether he should bother with lettuce; if they were making meals, Frank wanted it, but if they were just eating on the road, it was a little cumbersome. He lifted a prepackaged bag of shredded lettuce and weighed it in his hand.
“Can I help you with anything?”
Frank whirled around, surprised. He almost dropped the lettuce. “Sorry, uh. No. I’m good.”
The man was wearing a green apron and he looked pleasant enough, but something about him rubbed Frank the wrong way. He had thinning grey hair and some scraggly stubble, but he was smiling. “You sure?”
“I’m sure,” Frank said quickly.
“You didn’t sound too sure to me.”
Frank put down the bag of lettuce. “I’m all set, actually,” he said stiffly. The guy took a step closer and Frank backed up.
“You’re with that other man, right? Where are you two from?”
Frank bristled. “None of your business,” he snapped.
The man shrugged. “I’m just making friendly conversation. It’s not exactly tourist season, and we don’t get a lot of new faces in here.”
Frank nodded and shifted the basket from hand to hand. The man was making him nervous and Frank couldn’t pinpoint why. He thought of Gerard waiting for him in the other aisle and tried to make his excuses.
“You guys just passing through, or are you staying in town?” the man asked, a little too insistent to be considered polite.
Frank’s hand tightened on the basket handles so they ground together. “I don’t know,” he said.
The man laughed. “Where’re you coming from, then?”
“I have to go see if he needs anything,” Frank replied awkwardly, and tried to push past. “He’s waiting for me.”
“I think you should get some of this, if you’re looking for good lettuce,” the guy said, stepping deliberately into Frank’s path and picking up a head of lettuce. “It’s a local brand. Good produce.”
“No thanks,” Frank spat. “I need to go.” The man looked at him and didn’t move. “Let me go.”
“Frank?”
Frank looked over the guy’s shoulder and saw Gerard at the end of the row. His hands were clenched into fists. He came over to them.
“Is there a problem?” he asked Frank. He reached up and wrapped one hand around Frank’s bicep and squeezed.
“No, I was just… having trouble deciding,” Frank replied quickly. “I’m sorry.”
The guy watched them with a weird expression. Frank didn’t like it. He looked back at Gerard’s face, his angry eyes, and licked his lips. “Are you ready to go?” he asked.
“I told you to meet me in the frozen food section,” Gerard said in what Frank thought of as his bedroom voice. Every sound, every line of Gerard’s body exuded confidence, even arrogance. Dominance. Frank nodded and leaned into Gerard’s touch, trying to communicate that it wasn’t his fault; he’d wanted to meet Gerard, he’d tried.
Gerard pulled him away from the man. “Come on, we need dinner for tonight.”
When they rounded the corner of the freezer aisle, Gerard swung Frank around and pressed him face-first against one of the cold glass doors. Frank was vividly reminded of the first time Gerard had done that, but it felt different this time.
“I told you to come to me,” Gerard hissed, flattening his body against Frank’s back to hold him there.
“I tried,” Frank whispered. “I’m sorry, I tried, I really did. He wouldn’t let me, he kept asking… I don’t know why, please, I did try to come.”
Gerard dug his fingernails into Frank’s arm. “I don’t care what you tried,” he said. “I want you to fucking obey me, understand?”
“Yes,” Frank breathed. It fogged up the glass in front of him. After a long moment, Gerard stepped away and Frank relaxed.
Frank stuck to Gerard’s side as they finished shopping. The man from earlier was at the register when they went to check out, and Frank stayed in Gerard’s shadow. They didn’t talk while the guy was checking them out, and the guy didn’t try to start any more weird conversations. Probably because Gerard was glaring at him.
The man did keep his eyes on Frank, though, and it made Frank nervous. He traced his fingers over the magazines, touched the candy bars and gum, picked up a pack of batteries and read the warnings, then put it back.
He heard Gerard pick up the bags and walk to the door. Frank looked up. Gerard was almost outside, and he called to Frank over his shoulder without even glancing back. The creepy guy was still watching him closely. Frank put down the TV Guide he’d picked up and started to follow Gerard.
“Stop right there,” the man said suddenly. Gerard had his hand on the door handle; he froze. Frank turned back around.
“What?” he asked.
“I saw you take it. Either give it back or I’m calling the police.”
“Take what?” Frank asked, thoroughly confused. “I didn’t take anything.”
“Frank, come on,” Gerard hissed under his breath.
“Thief!” the guy shouted. “Don’t you even think about moving, you son of a bitch.”
“What the hell?” Frank cried. He held up his hands. “I didn’t take anything!” Gerard gave him a hard, angry look and Frank shook his head. “I didn’t, Gee, I swear.”
Gerard looked from Frank to the creepy guy. “He didn’t take anything, I paid for it all. Come on, Frank, we’re leaving.”
Quick as a flash, the man yanked the phone off its post and dialed 911. “I’m calling the police. Don’t you fucking lie to me.”
Gerard stared at Frank and shook his head. He looked nervous, scared. It was the first time Frank had ever seen that expression on Gerard’s face, and his heart sped up. Gerard opened the door and backed out, still not breaking eye contact with Frank. Frank could see the command there, the silent Come with me, now. He took a hesitant step in Gerard’s direction.
The guy reached below the register and pulled out a gun. “Nobody gets away with stealing from my store, you little punk.”
Frank froze again. Gerard was still backing away from the building.
“No, don’t,” Frank whispered. “Don’t leave me.”
He watched Gerard get into the car and sit there with his hands on the steering wheel. Gerard wasn’t looking at him anymore.
“No…”
The creepy guy grabbed Frank’s arm and yanked him over to the checkout counter. “Empty your fucking pockets.” He’d put down the phone, so Frank assumed the police were on their way. He hoped Gerard would just leave. Why was he still sitting there?
“I don’t have anything!” Frank cried. “Let go of me!”
“I fucking saw you.” The man pushed Frank’s head down so he was bent over the counter and leaned over him, twisting Frank’s arms up behind his back.
“Get off me!” Frank thrashed but the man was bigger than him and he couldn’t break free. “Let go! I didn’t steal anything!”
“Stop lying, you son of a bitch.” He twisted Frank’s wrist and dug his fingernails in.
Frank screamed. “Let me go!”
“Get your fucking hands off him.”
Next thing he knew, the guy was on the floor with a bleeding cut down the side of his face. Gerard grabbed Frank’s shoulder and pushed him forcefully toward the door.
“Get the fuck out,” he shouted. He was holding his gun. Frank couldn’t make his legs work; he stared at Gerard.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the guy yelled back. He pushed himself to his feet and reached for Frank again. “He’s a fucking thief. Nobody steals from me.”
Gerard lifted the gun and aimed it at the man’s head. “He’s not a fucking thief. He’s mine, and you will not lay one finger on him, do you understand me? Get in the car, Frank.”
“You crazy son of a—”
“Don’t think I won’t kill you.”
Frank heard sirens off in the distance. “Gee,” he whispered.
“Get in the fucking car!”
“Don’t even think about it,” the man hissed smugly.
“Gerard!” Frank cried.
That seemed to pull Gerard out of his staring contest. He flinched and fired the gun into the air. It left a perfect round hole in the ceiling. He grabbed Frank’s wrist and yanked him along. They ran to the car; Gerard pushed Frank into the driver’s seat and Frank crawled over the center console while Gerard clambered in after him.
There was a cop car coming down the street, lights flashing, and it turned into the opposite side of the parking lot. Gerard turned the key forcefully and stepped on the gas.
“Shit,” he breathed. “Shit.”
“Why’d you come back?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Why did you come back for me? You were out.”
“Shut up, Frank, I’m trying to get us out of here alive. Shut the fuck up.”
Frank twisted around in his seat. The cop car was parked in front of the store with the door open. A few seconds later, the cop in his shiny black uniform and the creepy guy ran outside. They drove around a corner and Frank lost sight of them. He didn’t think they’d seen Gerard’s car.
“Why did you come back?” he asked again, once Gerard’s grip on the steering wheel wasn’t turning his knuckles white.
“I can’t let you go,” Gerard said stiffly.
“Why?”
“They’ll catch me if I do.”
Frank crossed his arms over his chest. “I wouldn’t tell,” he shot back defiantly.
“I don’t care what you think. I’m not letting you go.”
“Ever?”
Gerard didn’t answer. Frank was quiet for several minutes, and Gerard eventually turned on the radio. They were getting closer to Jersey, but they still wasn’t close enough to pick up Frank’s favorite radio stations back home, and Gerard fiddled with it until they were listening to something other than static.
“You love me,” Frank whispered confidently. “That’s why you came back for me.”
“I don’t love you,” Gerard muttered.
Frank stared at him. “Yes. You do. You saved me.”
“Hate to break your heart, Frankie, but I saved me.”
“I love you, Gee.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do,” Frank shouted. “I fucking love you, and you love me back, just admit it! I know you do!”
“I don’t.”
“Gerard, come on. You do, I know it.”
Gerard swerved violently off the road and slammed the car to a halt in an empty parking lot. He turned in his seat to face Frank and grabbed Frank’s chin.
“Listen to me,” he hissed. “I don’t love you and you don’t love me. It’s all in your fucked up head. I went back for you because I don’t trust you and I don’t want to get caught, do you understand that? Now, shut the fuck up so I can get us out of here.” He glared at Frank, then said, “I don’t fucking love you.”
Gerard’s thumb was pressed to the corner of Frank’s mouth, and when he licked his lips, his tongue lingered there for a moment as he tasted the saltiness of Gerard’s skin. He opened his mouth slightly and Gerard traced Frank’s lower lip. Frank didn’t miss the way Gerard stared at his mouth. He licked Gerard’s thumb again.
“Stop it,” Gerard whispered.
“Stop what?” Frank asked. His lips pressed against Gerard’s thumb in an accidental kiss. Gerard just closed his eyes and shook his head. After a few seconds, he pushed Frank away and turned forwards again. He didn’t speak again until they pulled into a motel parking lot.
***
Gerard spread Frank out on his back, arms and legs stretched to each corner of the bed. His hands were light and gentle as they moved up Frank’s calves, his thighs, his hips, to his stomach, just beneath his ribs. There was a bruise there from being slammed into the sharp counter. Gerard glanced up at Frank’s face and pressed a finger into the bruise until Frank inhaled harshly. He wouldn’t make a sound, though.
His hands continued up to Frank’s arms, both of which had a series of mottled bruises beneath the tattoos. Some of them were Gerard’s, from when Gerard jerked him around and pulled him along, but some of them weren’t. Those were from the creepy guy; Gerard pressed down on them like he had the one on Frank’s stomach, pushing hard enough to make Frank gasp.
Frank stayed completely still and tried not to flinch away from Gerard’s touch. He wasn’t handcuffed, and Gerard wasn’t really holding him there. It was almost like a test of Frank’s willpower. He knew Gerard wanted him still, and he was determined to do just that.
“What do you want from me?” Gerard whispered.
Frank looked down and held his gaze. “Anything you’ll give me.”
“What if I don’t want you?” Gerard bent down over Frank and rested his chin on Frank’s stomach. “What if I want to tie you up and leave you here?”
Frank bit his lip and didn’t answer. The thought of Gerard abandoning him like that made his heart hurt.
“What if I want to fuck you every night and never let you come? Or make you always dress like a girl? Or sleep on the floor?”
Frank didn’t answer. He said, “I love you.”
Gerard pinched Frank’s side hard enough that he flinched. “Why do you think that?”
“Because.”
“Answer the question, Frankie.”
Frank closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he could explain it to Gerard’s face. It hurt too much to think about, so he just didn’t, usually. “You’re the only person who’s cared about me,” he began quietly. “You like the things I like, and you remember everything about me, so I know you pay attention. You’re beautiful. You’re a good person. I just… I love you.”
“I kidnapped you, Frankie,” Gerard pointed out softly. “You can’t love me.”
“But I do,” Frank replied earnestly. He opened his eyes and saw Gerard watching him. Gerard tilted his head and his hair brushed Frank’s skin, tickling him.
“Was your life really so awful that this is better? Being on the run, handcuffed to beds, dressed in girls’ clothes? How is that better than living your own life?”
Frank moved his arms. He reached down and touched Gerard’s shoulder tenderly, brushing Gerard’s dark hair out of the way. “I need it like that.”
Gerard’s eyes flicked over to Frank’s arm and he pressed his lips together tightly. He took Frank’s wrists and crawled over him, stretching Frank’s arms up to the headboard. “I thought you could stay still, Frankie,” he murmured. “Apparently I was wrong.”
Frank rolled his shoulders as best he could and clasped his hands together. “I’m sorry.”
Gerard let go of him and leaned close, but he just looked down at Frank for a moment. His hair was falling down around his face and brushing Frank’s cheek, like a curtain around them, a secluded little bubble.
“Now, stay like that and don’t fucking move.”
Frank nodded without breaking eye contact. Finally, Gerard leaned in and kissed him. It was just enough to leave Frank wanting more; Gerard then moved down to Frank’s throat, then his chest, laying kisses and bites all over Frank’s skin.
Frank held in a moan; Gerard hadn’t said to be quiet, but Frank thought it was implied. But then Gerard’s teeth grazed his nipple and Frank couldn’t resist any longer. He arched his back and whined. Whatever Gerard gave him, it wasn’t enough. He pushed his hips up, begging for friction, and Gerard moved out of reach; he arched his back to follow Gerard’s mouth and Gerard just moved with him. All the gentle half-touches were driving him crazy and he needed more. He craved more.
Gerard swirled his tongue around the bruise on Frank’s stomach, pushing hard enough for Frank to feel the sharp throb of pain beneath it. Frank couldn’t take it.
“Oh god, Gerard, please… Please, more, I need you.”
Gerard grinned wickedly up at him. “I’m right here, Frankie.”
Frank closed his eyes. “Please touch me.”
Gerard wrapped his hand around Frank’s aching cock and Frank was so surprised that he cried out, his hips jerking up to meet Gerard’s motions.
“Weren’t expecting that, were you?” Gerard asked, sounding amused.
Frank shook his head. “Please…”
“More?”
“Anything.”
**********
part 3
warning: Strong non-con/dub-con scenes; potential squicks and triggers. Stockholm Syndrome; non-con/dub-con sex (oral and penetrative); Dominance/submission; bondage (handcuffs); forced cross-dressing/feminization; criminal activity; violence; blood/bruising; handwaving elements of the American justice system.
part 1
part 2
part 3
**********
+ 2 days
Gerard’s hand was nearly crushing Frank’s as they walked together through the grocery store. Frank hadn’t been able to stop playing with the hem of his skirt, and Gerard had grabbed his hand and held tight, hissing, “Don’t do that,” in Frank’s ear.
Frank felt like all eyes were on him, or on them, and he didn’t know which was worse. “Everyone’s looking at me,” he whispered nervously.
“It’s ‘cause you’re so fucking pretty,” Gerard replied, tugging Frank along. “Come on, Frankie. Swing your hips a bit, you’re a girl.”
“Is this fucking fun for you?” Frank snapped.
“Fucking is fun, yeah,” Gerard answered blithely. “Now shut up and come on, we shouldn’t stay too long.”
“Then let’s just go!”
“No.” Gerard let go of Frank’s hand and instead grabbed his wrist and twisted. “We haven’t finished shopping, and I want to show off my sexy girl.”
“Gee, please,” Frank whispered. He tried to yank his arm out of Gerard’s grasp.
Gerard pulled Frank into an empty aisle in the frozen food section and slammed him up against the cold glass doors face-first, grinding his hips on Frank’s ass. Frank was sure the skirt was riding up far enough to give him away. Gerard slid one hand up beneath the skirt and dug his fingernails into the crease between Frank’s ass and his thigh, painful even through the thick stockings.
“Don’t fucking test me, Frankie,” Gerard hissed, “you know I don’t have a problem with hurting you.”
Frank nodded, his cheek sliding against the glass. His breath made a foggy cloud of condensation.
“I’m gonna fuck you in that fucking slutty little skirt, Frankie, and you’re going to fucking love it, you hear me? Answer me.”
“Yes,” Frank replied.
“Turn around.”
Frank did, still pressed up against the cold glass, and avoided Gerard’s eyes. Gerard took Frank’s chin in his hand and forced him to look up.
“I don’t need you, Frankie, and you’re just lucky that I want you. Do not disobey me. Understand?”
“Yes,” Frank whispered. Gerard tapped his cheek sharply—not quite a slap, but close—and let him go.
***
Half an hour later, Frank was on his knees in the passenger seat of Gerard’s car, leaning over the center console with Gerard’s dick in his mouth. Gerard held both of his wrists tight behind his back, and his other hand was in Frank’s hair, pushing him down. It was uncomfortable and Frank was probably showing his ass to everyone who walked by the car, but he understood that this was punishment for not cooperating.
“Take it, Frankie, come on, fucking take it, yeah, there,” Gerard muttered, thrusting his hips up and holding Frank in place. Frank tried to relax his throat and concentrate on not gagging. He could barely breathe. “Fuck, yeah, Frankie, take it.”
Frank’s spit was sliding down his chin, like before, and it caught and stuck on Gerard’s dark pubic hair every time he pushed Frank down far enough. It didn’t take long for Gerard to come; he laced the fingers of both hands through Frank’s hair, tugging and holding him in the right position and ordering him to swallow. Frank did, if only because he couldn’t spit with Gerard’s dick still in his mouth, and Gerard let him up.
“You’re a fucking mess,” Gerard said.
Frank could feel it, sticky wetness all over his face and throat, and his hair tangled and standing on end. His eyes were wet with tears and his lip was bleeding. He nodded.
“Should I let you clean up before we get out of here? Or do you want to walk around like this?”
“Please let me clean up,” Frank whispered.
“Maybe I should just leave you tied up next time I go out,” Gerard mused.
“No!”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“No, don’t, please,” Frank cried. He remembered vividly the horrible ache in his chest from being abandoned like that, the loneliness and the uncertainty, and the more physical ache in his shoulders from being unable to move for hours on end. “I’ll be good, I promise,” he said. “Please don’t leave me like that again, please.”
Gerard reached around to the back seat and pulled out the makeup kit. He tossed it into Frank’s lap. “Clean yourself up,” he said coldly, “and don’t piss me off.”
**********
+ 23 days
“Frankie, tell me about Gerard.”
Frank looked up and smiled like he was trying not to but couldn’t keep it off his face. “We had sex the first time on the fifth night.”
Ray really shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d suspected, of course, but to hear Frank say it… Ray made a note and asked, “Did anything happen before the fifth night?”
“Yeah,” Frank said, shrugging, “but that was the night we slept together.”
Ray scribbled down that Frank didn’t want to talk about what happened before the fifth night and smiled encouragingly at him. “How did it start? Who instigated it?”
“I did,” Frank replied immediately.
“Did you kiss him?” Ray asked carefully.
“No…” Frank said. “We didn’t kiss.”
**********
+ 4 days
“Gee, please, can’t I wear something normal?” Frank asked while Gerard was getting dressed. On the bed, there was a pink t-shirt and the same black skirt as yesterday, waiting for him.
“I told you why you have to wear it; do you really want to start a fight with me right now?” Gerard snapped. Frank chalked Gerard’s bad mood up to the six hours they’d spent driving to a new motel.
“Nobody knows me here,” Frank replied reasonably.
“I don’t care if anybody knows you,” Gerard said. “I care if they recognize you. Now get dressed and cleaned up, I don’t have time for this.”
“Come on, Gerard, nobody’s going to recognize—”
Gerard grabbed a fistful of Frank’s hair and forced him to his knees. He leaned over him, ignoring Frank’s shout, and took his chin in his other hand, wrenching his mouth open and holding him still. “Damn right nobody’s going to fucking recognize you, because nobody fucking cares about you anymore. Nobody gives a shit about you, least of all me. Shut the fuck up and get dressed, I’m not gonna tell you again.”
Frank knew even before the words left his mouth that he was pushing his luck. “So I can wear my jeans, then?”
Gerard slapped him hard across the face.
Frank let out his breath and took a moment to calm down. His hair was hanging over his face and his left cheek felt like it was on fire. He looked up at Gerard through the clumpy mess of hair.
“I told you not to fucking test me,” Gerard spat. “I don’t have to keep you, you know.”
“Then let me go.”
“Not a fucking snowball’s chance in hell,” he laughed. “Next time it won’t be your face I’ll be slapping.”
Frank thought he could probably take Gerard in a fist fight. He’d been in a few and done alright, and Gerard wasn’t exactly a body builder. But Gerard had a gun. That weighted the odds a little bit. Frank picked the skirt up off the bed.
“Good boy.”
***
+ 5 days
Gerard left Frank cuffed to the bed while he showered and dressed, and then while he set up his laptop and chatted with Mikey on his headset. Frank waited quietly; Gerard wouldn’t leave him tied up forever. He watched Gerard eat breakfast and brush his teeth, write in a spiral-bound notebook, and read the music news blogs. Then Gerard put on his shoes and leather jacket and headed for the door.
“Wait,” Frank cried, breaking the silence. “Please don’t leave.”
“Is there any reason I should stay?” Gerard asked, not even turning around to look at Frank.
Frank licked his lips. “I’m sorry.”
Gerard glanced back at him.
“I’m sorry about yesterday; I don’t know what I was thinking. It won’t happen again, I swear. Please don’t leave me.”
“You swear?” Gerard asked. He walked over to the bed and looked down his nose at Frank. “Why should I trust you, Frankie?”
Frank licked his lips again. “I won’t disobey you again, Gee, I promise.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Gerard said. “We both know that’s not true.”
“I’ll try, please, I’m trying. I’m going to try.”
“What do you even want, Frank?”
“I just don’t want to be alone. Everything else… I don’t care.”
“You want me to untie you?”
“I don’t mind it, as long as you’re here,” Frank answered truthfully.
“You hungry? Want something to eat?”
Frank shrugged as best he could with his wrists cuffed to the headboard.
“You want to get dressed?”
Frank shrugged again. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I won’t do that again.”
Gerard pulled the necklace with the two handcuff keys out from underneath his shirt and flicked them back and forth on the chain. He stared down at Frank but didn’t make eye contact. Finally, he came to a decision. He unlocked Frank’s hands.
“Take a shower and get dressed. There’s leftovers from last night in the fridge. When you’re done, maybe we’ll get out of here.”
Frank nodded and waited for Gerard to let go of his wrists, but Gerard didn’t. He brought them together and locked the handcuffs around them again.
“I’ll let you out to put a shirt on and that’s it.”
“Okay.”
They stared at each other for a moment before Gerard nodded and said, “Go.”
**********
+ 23 days
“We’d just gotten back to the motel,” Frank explained in a low voice that Ray had to strain to hear. “I was wearing the skirt he bought me.”
“He bought you a skirt?” Ray prompted gently.
“To wear out,” Frank said. “Because I couldn’t wear pants. But I was teasing him. I don’t even know why, I guess I just wanted to provoke a reaction. I baited him, and he slammed me into a wall in the bathroom at the mall, and he asked if I wanted him to fuck me right there, where anyone could walk in and see us, and me with my skirt.”
Ray watched Frank’s face as he told the story, watched how Frank lost himself in it and seemed to relax. Most likely comforted by memory and not reality, reliving the past because it was a known quantity rather than face the uncertain present, where he had no control.
“I said no,” Frank continued, staring down at his hands. He started to smile. “He told me he’d fuck me back in the room, so we left.”
**********
+ 5 days
Gerard swiped the key through the lock and pushed Frank into the room. He stumbled, and then Gerard was there behind him, pressing him up against the wall as he kicked the door closed behind them.
“You just like to fucking push me, don’t you, Frankie?” Gerard asked, biting down hard on Frank’s earlobe and then dragging his teeth down Frank’s throat to his shoulder, where he bit again.
Frank didn’t answer, just pushed back against Gerard’s body, and Gerard grabbed his wrists and stretched them over their heads against the wall, grinding his dick against Frank’s ass, hot even through the denim.
“Get on the fucking bed and take your shirt off,” Gerard growled. Frank did as Gerard asked and lay down on his back, waiting. When Gerard joined him on the bed, he was holding the handcuffs and the blindfold he’d bought at the store.
Frank started to shake his head when he saw the blindfold, but Gerard just glared at him and fitted the mask over his face. It fit better than the piece of cloth Gerard had used before, and it didn’t slip when Frank rubbed his head against the pillow, which Gerard yanked out from underneath him. Unable to see, Frank listened closely for clues as to what Gerard was doing, where he would move next.
He wasn’t quite prepared for Gerard to cuff him to the headboard, although he knew it was coming. Gerard snapped the cuffs tightly around Frank’s wrists and bit Frank’s jaw, muttering, “I should’ve bought the handcuffs without the padding, I don’t know why I let you fucking choose…”
Then Gerard disappeared and Frank heard the distinct sounds of his jeans unzipping and falling to the floor, and then the rustling he presumed was Gerard taking off his shirt.
“Put your fucking legs up, Frankie,” Gerard hissed. Frank lifted his legs, knees bent, and spread them, guided by Gerard’s insistent hands.
“You’re a fucking tease,” Gerard continued. “You were teasing everyone in that fucking store, Frankie. They can’t fucking have you. You’re mine, and you shouldn’t fucking tease me.”
“Sorry,” Frank breathed, tilting his head back against the bed. The blindfold made him disoriented, even though he could feel the bed beneath him and the solid, firm wall against his hands.
“You’re not sorry,” Gerard said. “You wanted this; you love this, don’t you? You’re hard already, Frankie, don’t fucking lie to me. You can’t lie to me.”
Frank shifted back and stretched out one leg, searching for Gerard.
“Nuh-uh-uh,” Gerard admonished, batting Frank’s leg away. “You’re my fucking whore, Frankie; this isn’t about what you want.”
Frank groaned and moved back into position, tugging uselessly at the cuffs. He wondered if begging would help. “I’m yours, Gee, please,” he said quietly.
Finally, he felt Gerard kneel between his legs, and then Gerard lifted the skirt up around Frank’s waist, pointedly ignoring Frank’s cock.
“You fucking love this skirt, I can tell,” Gerard murmured silkily. “I’m not sure you even have a dick, the way you walk around in these fucking clothes, like they were made for you. Or like you were made for them. I bet you fucking wish you were a girl, don’t you, Frankie? Such a pretty fucking girl, with a fucking wet cunt and no underwear on underneath this short fucking skirt. Ready for anyone to stick it in, aren’t you, you fucking slut.”
Frank exhaled loudly and concentrated on Gerard’s voice. He didn’t really sound angry anymore; he was off in a fantasy, and Frank was part of that, and reality didn’t matter. Frank liked that, he liked forgetting about the things he didn’t like. He moaned and urged Gerard to continue.
“Tell me how much you want it, Frankie? How much do you want my cock in your cunt? Tell me.”
“I want it,” Frank whispered.
“Tell me.”
“I want your cock in my cunt,” Frank cried. “I want you in me, please!”
“What if I want to fuck your sweet little ass, Frankie? I should’ve bought a fucking dildo for you or something.”
“Mmm, please, please fuck me,” Frank moaned. “Fuck my ass, please, Gee, please—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Gerard hissed, and then he was pressing his cock against Frank’s perineum and Frank was pushing back against him. “I’ll get the gag if I need to.”
“No, I’ll be good, I promise,” Frank said quickly. Gerard thrust against him for a moment, the head of his cock up against Frank’s balls, and it was really fucking hot and so fucking good, and Frank arched his back and moaned again. Then, because he knew Gerard wanted it, he said, “I’ll be a good girl, I promise.”
He was rewarded with the sound of Gerard actually moaning Frank’s name and grasping Frank’s knee tightly. Gerard didn’t waste any time prepping Frank, just reached down with one hand and pushed his cock into Frank’s ass without further warning. Frank whined and squeezed his legs together around Gerard’s body. He considered crossing his ankles and pulling Gerard further into him, but then thought better of it. Frank was sure Gerard wouldn’t appreciate the gesture in the way it was meant.
Gerard reached up with his other hand and stuck three fingers into Frank’s mouth. Frank sucked them in and wrapped his tongue around them, even when Gerard pushed too far back and Frank felt like he was choking. He gagged and a thick drop of spit slid out the bottom of his mouth.
“Fucking dirty slut,” Gerard murmured, withdrawing his hand, and bent down to lick his way into Frank’s mouth. Gerard’s tongue was much more welcome than his fingers, and Gerard kissed him fiercely. Frank didn’t do much of anything but take the onslaught, barely able to focus at all with Gerard’s dick hot and hard inside him.
“You want to fucking come, don’t you?” Gerard asked.
Frank had actually forgotten about his own cock, ignored as it was between them. Gerard was just so much more important than that, in Frank’s mind. He demanded Frank’s full attention, and Frank gave it without thinking. It was so much easier to concentrate on what Gerard needed from him, because he wasn’t even sure what he wanted for himself. He couldn’t remember ever feeling that way about the other people he’d fucked. It was always about getting himself off and then getting the fuck out.
Gerard slid his wet hand down Frank’s chest until he reached Frank’s dick and closed his fist around it, and then, yeah, then Frank wanted to come. He wanted Gerard to jerk him off, wanted to suck Gerard’s cock, wanted Gerard to finger him open until Frank was ready to come again.
“Yes, yes, please,” Frank finally answered with a short cry. “I want to come, please let me come.”
“Not until I’m done,” Gerard said, and Frank felt a little thrill of satisfaction. He spread his legs wider and forced himself back to meet Gerard’s thrusts.
It didn’t really take long for Gerard to come inside him. He kissed and sucked and bit Frank’s chest and throat, muffling his own noises, and Frank just stayed pliant and took it, took everything. Gerard left his cock inside Frank after he’d finished, and, breathing heavily, finally kissed Frank on the mouth again.
“You better lick it all off my fucking fingers,” he said when he pulled back, and for a second, Frank didn’t know what Gerard was talking about.
But then Gerard stroked him once, fully, up to the tip and then down to the base, fingers tight and brutal and exactly what Frank needed, and Frank remembered. His hips came up off the bed of their own accord as he thrust into Gerard’s hand, but Gerard just pushed him down and held him there.
“I don’t fucking think so,” he said with a breathless laugh.
Frank was so wired that he was ready to come already, as long as Gerard didn’t disappear. He wanted it to last, though. It was the first time Gerard had really touched him, certainly the first time Gerard had ever paid any attention to Frank’s dick when he fucked Frank.
“You love being my girl, don’t you Frankie,” he whispered. “How much do you want to come? Should I let you?”
“Yes, please let me, Gee, please let me come, Jesus Christ, I need it,” Frank cried shrilly as Gerard twisted his hand and squeezed.
“You need it?” Gerard taunted, and Frank could hear the grin in his tone.
“I need it, I need you, please let me come, please…”
“Then come,” Gerard said simply. It was enough for Frank. He arched up off the bed, following Gerard’s hand on the upstroke, and came with a loud shout that Gerard silenced with his tongue between Frank’s lips.
His orgasm left Frank feeling weak all over, completely boneless, and Gerard kissed him through it, keeping him grounded. Frank’s hands relaxed on the bed; he couldn’t even feel the cuffs anymore. After a moment, Gerard pulled away and wiped his fingers through the mess on Frank’s stomach and brought them to Frank’s lips.
Frank poked his tongue out and tasted himself on Gerard’s fingers, and waited for Gerard to push them into Frank’s mouth. He didn’t, though; he left a sticky mess on Frank’s lower lip and let Frank take his time sucking his come off Gerard’s skin. He continued to lick and suck long after he’d cleaned Gerard up, and Gerard murmured appreciatively.
“Go to sleep, Frankie,” Gerard ordered softly. He gently planted a kiss on Frank’s sweaty forehead and left him tied up and blindfolded while he went to shower.
***
+ 8 days
Driving through the desert was boring as hell. The monotony gave Frank too much time to think, and his own mind was driving him crazy. Frank’s hands shook even as he clasped them together in his lap. He thought he was hyperventilating, but Gerard wasn’t acting like anything was wrong, so he suspected it was only in his head. The brown, dusty sand whizzed by outside his window, making him dizzy. He didn’t stop staring at it.
Then Gerard did look over at him with a confused expression. “Frank?”
Frank clutched his stomach, suddenly nauseated. He groaned. “Pull over,” he mumbled. “I’m going to be sick.”
There weren’t any other cars on the road; Gerard pulled off into the dirt, tires kicking up a cloud of dust as the car jerked to a halt. Frank opened the door and tumbled out, scrambling away as quickly has he could manage on his knees.
The dust tickled Frank’s throat and he coughed, trying to clear his lungs; it progressed into dry heaves, but nothing came up. Frank heard Gerard running over to him.
“Frank? Frank!” He stopped a few feet away.
Frank turned around, still huddled on his knees, and stared tearfully up at him. Gerard’s brow was wrinkled with concern and he stretched out a hand to Frank.
“You okay?” he asked carefully. He closed the distance between them.
Frank reached past Gerard’s hand and into the pocket of his jacket, fingers closing immediately around the gun. He yanked it out and crab-walked backwards. Gerard didn’t move, and his expression didn’t change.
“If you aren’t going to let me go, just fucking shoot me already,” Frank cried. He looked down at the gun and wiped tears from his cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt. “Are there even fucking bullets in this fucking thing?”
“Yes,” Gerard answered.
“If you don’t fucking kill me, I’ll just do it myself,” Frank said. He stroked the handle of the gun with his thumb, getting a feel for the weight. It was heavier than he expected. He held it up against the side of his head. “Please just kill me.”
“Why?” Gerard asked. He didn’t seem particularly worried about Frank waving the gun around.
“Why?” Frank screeched. “My life is shit. My parents are dead. I’m a month late on my rent already, and I got fired from my shitty minimum wage job at fucking Wal-Mart the day before I met you. I don’t have any family left, and none of my friends remember me, ever. I’m drowning in student loans and I didn’t even finish two years at college. My dog died last week. I got kidnapped in a fucking bank robbery. Should I go on?”
Gerard cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. After a moment, he crossed his arms over his chest. “So you want to die.”
“The only reason I’m still alive is that you want me as some kind of—of—of sex toy or something, I don’t fucking know. You don’t need me anymore and you’re not going to let me go. Just put me out of my fucking misery.”
“Okay.”
Frank lifted his head. Gerard held his hand out again, this time reaching for the gun. “You’ll do it?”
Gerard nodded. Frank handed the gun over and wiped furiously at his eyes. He could feel the dirt caking his skin, gritty in his eyes when he rubbed them. Sniffling didn’t make it any easier to breathe, and his heart was pounding erratically in his chest. Frank sat back on his heels and stared up at Gerard. He didn’t know what to do with his hands.
Gerard calmly aimed the gun at him, face blank and eyes clear. Frank didn’t like staring down the barrel, so he closed his eyes. The gunshot was louder than Frank expected, a deafening bang that echoed in his ears. He jumped, his entire body tensing at once, and his eyes flew open. His throat closed up and he felt sick again, but this time he couldn’t breathe even to puke.
Gerard was still holding the gun in front of him, aimed down at the dirt, and it was smoking slightly. The grey smoke mixed with the dust that was gently blowing away from the small crater the bullet left in the ground.
“You don’t want to die,” Gerard said slowly. “I’ve been suicidal before. You’re not there yet. Get up.”
“What?” Frank gasped.
“All that shit you said? None of it matters anymore. Get up and get back in the car.”
Frank stared at him. His hands were shaking worse than before. Gerard’s hands were perfectly still.
“Get in the car, Frank.”
Neither of them moved for a full minute, and then Frank nodded and wordlessly rose to his feet, walked past Gerard, and sat back down in the passenger seat. He buckled his seatbelt, closed the door, and exhaled slowly. The adrenaline rush was making him jittery, and he took another deep breath to calm down.
Gerard put the gun in the trunk of the car. He climbed in and turned the key. The car stuttered to a start and Gerard pulled back onto the road. They didn’t talk, and Frank kept taking deep breaths.
***
+ 10 days
Gerard hadn’t touched him since the incident with the gun, except to handcuff him to hotel beds at night. They didn’t talk much, and it wasn’t about what happened when they did. Frank couldn’t let it go.
“Hey, Gerard?” he asked hesitantly. “Back there, in Texas or wherever-the-fuck, you said I didn’t want to die.” Gerard nodded and didn’t look away from the road. Frank licked his lips. “How did you know?”
“If you really wanted to, you’d have just done it. Why ask me to do it for you?” Gerard answered simply.
“What if I wanted you to choose?”
“What?” Gerard asked. “You want me to look at your life and tell you whether or not it’s worth living? That’s just stupid, Frank.”
“No, it’s not,” Frank protested. Gerard threw him a look he couldn’t read. “You said you’ve been suicidal before,” he prompted.
“Yeah.”
“What saved you?”
Gerard looked over at him. “Nothing.”
***
+ 12 days
Frank didn’t pry any more after that, but he was still curious. He wanted to know more about Gerard, more about all the things Gerard knew about himself and about Frank. Because he actually knew a lot about Frank, a truly surprising amount about Frank’s feelings. Frank started to think that Gerard knew him better than Frank knew himself. He wanted to know Gerard in the same way.
Things he knew about Gerard: sometimes Gerard slept fitfully, but he never woke up from his nightmares; Gerard drank a lot of coffee in the morning and at night, and Frank wasn’t sure if Gerard ever actually slept some nights; Gerard liked quiet while he was driving; Gerard liked Frank’s tattoos.
Frank knew that last one because Gerard had said so, during one of their more candid conversations. Gerard was still very vague, though, and it was frustrating to ask questions and get ambiguous answers. Gerard was a mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a sexy leather jacket, and Frank just wanted more.
That night, Gerard fell asleep early while curled up in his pajamas, watching TV, and he’d forgotten to lock Frank in the handcuffs, which he’d done every single night previous. Frank figured Gerard must be exhausted, keeping up with Frank while on the run from the police, staying at crappy motels and driving all day. He reached carefully over Gerard for the remote and switched the TV off, then took off his clothes and slid slowly between the sheets.
Gerard didn’t move. He was sound asleep. Frank figured he could probably get away with kissing Gerard goodnight, but he played it safe and just kissed him on the cheek. Gerard didn’t even stir. Frank put his head down on the pillow and watched Gerard sleep until his own eyelids closed. He didn’t even glance at the door.
***
+ 13 days
When Frank woke up, he was curled against Gerard’s side with an arm over Gerard’s chest, and Gerard’s arm around his shoulders. He looked up and saw that Gerard was awake, cup of coffee firmly in hand.
“I forgot to cuff you,” he said, and Frank nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“You needed the sleep,” Frank replied.
“Next time, cuff yourself.” Gerard said. “Understood?” Frank nodded again.
“I should’ve—”
“It’s fine,” Gerard cut him off quickly. “You didn’t know. I’m glad you stayed, though.”
Frank was confused for a few seconds. He glanced at the door, but the feeling of longing was gone. “I didn’t even think of leaving,” he admitted quietly.
Gerard petted his hair. “Good,” he whispered.
***
+ 15 days
They settled into a routine, of sorts. Sometimes Gerard talked to Frank, and sometimes he ignored him; Frank still couldn’t pinpoint any particular reason, but on the days Gerard didn’t feel like talking, Frank stayed quiet and obedient. He’d learned that quiet Gerard meant Gerard was deep into his own head, and he got angry when interrupted.
Frank liked it when Gerard talked to him, though. He’d gradually become comfortable enough with Gerard to reply without working himself into a panic about what Gerard would think or do or say in reaction. Surprisingly, he and Gerard actually shared interests, especially in comic books, a topic that fueled several long hours’ worth of conversation and debate.
As awful as it was, Gerard was Frank’s best friend. They’d connected at some point during their time together. Frank didn’t know when it had happened, but the more he thought about Gerard, the more he couldn’t imagine them not becoming friends. Gerard had never been mean to him without reason, and he’d always kept his promises. And most of the time, he was a great conversationalist.
Frank’s other so-called friends were people he’d met at work, or in his short time at Rutgers, and he’d yet to find anyone as intelligent and charming as Gerard. Frank’s other friends told him all about parties and clubs they frequented, while conveniently forgetting to invite him, not that Frank could afford cover charges or expensive cocktails anyway. Frank’s other friends didn’t share or appreciate Frank’s interests or passions, they didn’t like the same kinds of music, and they didn’t care about him.
Frank and Gerard had only had sex a few times, and Frank had to admit it was the best sex he’d had in… years. Which was kind of pathetic, Frank knew. Sometimes Gerard caught his gaze and held it, even as he came, moaning and thrusting hard into Frank’s ass or his mouth. He didn’t look smug about it, and Frank thought maybe it was because he was offering himself up to Gerard voluntarily, sometimes eagerly. Truthfully, Frank looked forward to the times Gerard yanked him close for a biting kiss that left Frank’s lower lip bloody, and then pushed him down to his knees. The sex was satisfying even when Gerard didn’t let him come. Sometimes it was even more satisfying, to be left wanting more of Gerard. He’d been worrying about himself all his life, and this was different; he could finally let go of that tension and concentrate on Gerard.
Frank felt that connection between them intensify whenever Gerard fucked him, and he thought Gerard could feel it too.
Frank was on his knees, sweaty forehead resting against Gerard’s bare hip as they both caught their breath when he blurted it out. He nuzzled against the top of Gerard’s thigh, eyes closed and hair sticking to his cheeks, and whispered, “I love you.”
Gerard wasn’t moving, but Frank noticed when he froze stiff, muscles tense.
“You don’t love me,” he said firmly.
Frank hadn’t quite realized he’d said that out loud. He blinked twice, eyelashes brushing Gerard’s skin, and replayed the moment in his head. “I love you,” he repeated, more sure of himself the second time.
Gerard lifted his hand to Frank’s cheek and brushed aside the wet strands of hair. His thumb swiped over Frank’s cheek a second time, and then again, and Gerard sighed and backed away without answering.
Frank told himself sternly not to be upset. Of course Gerard didn’t think of him that way. He’d picked Frank up by mistake. He didn’t want Frank with him anyway.
It still hurt, though.
**********
+ 23 days
It was becoming increasingly obvious by the way Frank talked about Gerard that something had developed between them. Ray still wasn’t sure whether Gerard shared Frank’s feelings or whether it was all in Frank’s mind, if he was forming connections and imagined relationships where there was really nothing.
“The first time you slept together,” Ray began slowly, “was that the first time you had sex?”
“No,” Frank answered simply, finally looking up and meeting Ray’s eyes. He apparently still didn’t want to talk about what happened before that night, but Ray was sure that if he commanded it, Frank would tell him. He hated to manipulate the kid like that, though, after all he’d been through.
“Why was that the first time you slept together, then?”
“He let me come. He made me come. He kissed me.”
“He hadn’t kissed you before that?”
“It was different.”
“Okay.” Ray nodded. “Okay. So then how did things evolve from that point?”
“I fell in love with him,” Frank replied candidly.
“You fell in love with him,” Ray echoed. It felt like something was stuck in his throat. What had Gerard done to the poor boy that made him think this was love?
**********
+ 19 days
“I talked to the director,” Brian began softly, closing the office door behind him. “Bob, maybe you shouldn’t be getting so involved, you know?”
“Bri, don’t give me that.”
“No, listen. You got emotionally attached to this kid, and we’re just afraid…”
“Afraid of what?” Bob snapped.
“We’re afraid that we’ll have to start looking for a body,” Brian finished calmly.
“No.”
“Bob, it’s been over two weeks,” he reasoned. “We haven’t seen a trace of either of them, and we haven’t gotten any demands. Why would the guy keep him alive after all this time?”
“He’s counting on me, Brian,” Bob replied vehemently. “I saw him, that day at the bank, I saw his face. He was so fucking scared, Brian, and I told him I would help him. I have to help him, I promised. You didn’t see his face at the bank. He needs me. I promised I would fucking save him.”
“Bryar, what the hell are you going to do when the kid turns up in a fucking body bag? I’ll tell you what you’re going to do: you’re gonna go to pieces. It’s tragic, okay, but you don’t know him, and you can’t start putting the blame on yourself. It’s that psycho we have to catch.”
“He’s not dead.”
“You don’t know that,” Brian said quickly. He softened, though, and conceded, “He might not be dead. But chances are small, and they’re getting smaller every hour.”
“We have to catch him,” Bob replied.
Brian sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Bob… Promise me you won’t blame yourself when this all goes wrong.”
**********
+ 20 days
They were on their way back to Jersey. According to Gerard, enough time had passed that the spotlight was off them, and if they were careful, they could maybe stop running. Frank wasn’t so sure, but he trusted Gerard’s opinion. They avoided major roads and cities; they weren’t in any great rush. Gerard said that he needed to see his brother, and that’s all there was to it.
Frank drove for a few hours up the coastline, the ocean on their right, until they finally reached a beach town with a decent-sized convenience store. Gerard told him to pull in.
“What do you need?” Frank asked.
“Food for tomorrow,” Gerard replied shortly. “We can’t make any stops once we get closer in case we’re seen.”
Frank nodded and handed Gerard the car keys. Neither of them moved. Frank swallowed and, staring at the top of the steering wheel, asked, “What are you going to do when we get back to Belleville?” Frank could feel Gerard’s eyes on him but he forced himself not to look up.
“You mean what am I going to do with you?”
Frank nodded.
Gerard hesitated for a moment before answering, almost long enough to make Frank look up. “I can’t let you go,” he said finally. “You’ll come with me.”
“To see Mikey?”
“I’ll find somewhere to take you. I can’t let you go.”
“I know,” Frank whispered. He didn’t say, I don’t want you to. He was afraid of Gerard pulling away from him, and it felt like he had been ever since Frank let slip the L-word.
Gerard took a breath and determinedly stuffed his wallet and the keys into his pockets. “Come on, let’s get some food for tomorrow.”
Nobody gave them a second glance inside the store, which was almost deserted anyway. Gerard headed towards the snack aisle, Frank trailing dutifully behind carrying the basket, and started pulling things off the shelves as he passed them. Frank hurried after him and organized the chips and crackers and sodas into the basket so nothing would squish and crunch. Gerard then pointed Frank to the produce section.
“Go pick out whatever you want and come to me in the freezer aisle,” he murmured under his breath. “You’ll come to me, won’t you, Frankie?”
“Yes,” Frank replied, just as quiet.
Gerard gave him a tiny grin. “Go, then. You have eight minutes.”
Frank darted away and began throwing things into the basket. Apples were easy for road trips. Maybe carrot sticks, too. Grapes? Tomatoes? He wondered whether he should bother with lettuce; if they were making meals, Frank wanted it, but if they were just eating on the road, it was a little cumbersome. He lifted a prepackaged bag of shredded lettuce and weighed it in his hand.
“Can I help you with anything?”
Frank whirled around, surprised. He almost dropped the lettuce. “Sorry, uh. No. I’m good.”
The man was wearing a green apron and he looked pleasant enough, but something about him rubbed Frank the wrong way. He had thinning grey hair and some scraggly stubble, but he was smiling. “You sure?”
“I’m sure,” Frank said quickly.
“You didn’t sound too sure to me.”
Frank put down the bag of lettuce. “I’m all set, actually,” he said stiffly. The guy took a step closer and Frank backed up.
“You’re with that other man, right? Where are you two from?”
Frank bristled. “None of your business,” he snapped.
The man shrugged. “I’m just making friendly conversation. It’s not exactly tourist season, and we don’t get a lot of new faces in here.”
Frank nodded and shifted the basket from hand to hand. The man was making him nervous and Frank couldn’t pinpoint why. He thought of Gerard waiting for him in the other aisle and tried to make his excuses.
“You guys just passing through, or are you staying in town?” the man asked, a little too insistent to be considered polite.
Frank’s hand tightened on the basket handles so they ground together. “I don’t know,” he said.
The man laughed. “Where’re you coming from, then?”
“I have to go see if he needs anything,” Frank replied awkwardly, and tried to push past. “He’s waiting for me.”
“I think you should get some of this, if you’re looking for good lettuce,” the guy said, stepping deliberately into Frank’s path and picking up a head of lettuce. “It’s a local brand. Good produce.”
“No thanks,” Frank spat. “I need to go.” The man looked at him and didn’t move. “Let me go.”
“Frank?”
Frank looked over the guy’s shoulder and saw Gerard at the end of the row. His hands were clenched into fists. He came over to them.
“Is there a problem?” he asked Frank. He reached up and wrapped one hand around Frank’s bicep and squeezed.
“No, I was just… having trouble deciding,” Frank replied quickly. “I’m sorry.”
The guy watched them with a weird expression. Frank didn’t like it. He looked back at Gerard’s face, his angry eyes, and licked his lips. “Are you ready to go?” he asked.
“I told you to meet me in the frozen food section,” Gerard said in what Frank thought of as his bedroom voice. Every sound, every line of Gerard’s body exuded confidence, even arrogance. Dominance. Frank nodded and leaned into Gerard’s touch, trying to communicate that it wasn’t his fault; he’d wanted to meet Gerard, he’d tried.
Gerard pulled him away from the man. “Come on, we need dinner for tonight.”
When they rounded the corner of the freezer aisle, Gerard swung Frank around and pressed him face-first against one of the cold glass doors. Frank was vividly reminded of the first time Gerard had done that, but it felt different this time.
“I told you to come to me,” Gerard hissed, flattening his body against Frank’s back to hold him there.
“I tried,” Frank whispered. “I’m sorry, I tried, I really did. He wouldn’t let me, he kept asking… I don’t know why, please, I did try to come.”
Gerard dug his fingernails into Frank’s arm. “I don’t care what you tried,” he said. “I want you to fucking obey me, understand?”
“Yes,” Frank breathed. It fogged up the glass in front of him. After a long moment, Gerard stepped away and Frank relaxed.
Frank stuck to Gerard’s side as they finished shopping. The man from earlier was at the register when they went to check out, and Frank stayed in Gerard’s shadow. They didn’t talk while the guy was checking them out, and the guy didn’t try to start any more weird conversations. Probably because Gerard was glaring at him.
The man did keep his eyes on Frank, though, and it made Frank nervous. He traced his fingers over the magazines, touched the candy bars and gum, picked up a pack of batteries and read the warnings, then put it back.
He heard Gerard pick up the bags and walk to the door. Frank looked up. Gerard was almost outside, and he called to Frank over his shoulder without even glancing back. The creepy guy was still watching him closely. Frank put down the TV Guide he’d picked up and started to follow Gerard.
“Stop right there,” the man said suddenly. Gerard had his hand on the door handle; he froze. Frank turned back around.
“What?” he asked.
“I saw you take it. Either give it back or I’m calling the police.”
“Take what?” Frank asked, thoroughly confused. “I didn’t take anything.”
“Frank, come on,” Gerard hissed under his breath.
“Thief!” the guy shouted. “Don’t you even think about moving, you son of a bitch.”
“What the hell?” Frank cried. He held up his hands. “I didn’t take anything!” Gerard gave him a hard, angry look and Frank shook his head. “I didn’t, Gee, I swear.”
Gerard looked from Frank to the creepy guy. “He didn’t take anything, I paid for it all. Come on, Frank, we’re leaving.”
Quick as a flash, the man yanked the phone off its post and dialed 911. “I’m calling the police. Don’t you fucking lie to me.”
Gerard stared at Frank and shook his head. He looked nervous, scared. It was the first time Frank had ever seen that expression on Gerard’s face, and his heart sped up. Gerard opened the door and backed out, still not breaking eye contact with Frank. Frank could see the command there, the silent Come with me, now. He took a hesitant step in Gerard’s direction.
The guy reached below the register and pulled out a gun. “Nobody gets away with stealing from my store, you little punk.”
Frank froze again. Gerard was still backing away from the building.
“No, don’t,” Frank whispered. “Don’t leave me.”
He watched Gerard get into the car and sit there with his hands on the steering wheel. Gerard wasn’t looking at him anymore.
“No…”
The creepy guy grabbed Frank’s arm and yanked him over to the checkout counter. “Empty your fucking pockets.” He’d put down the phone, so Frank assumed the police were on their way. He hoped Gerard would just leave. Why was he still sitting there?
“I don’t have anything!” Frank cried. “Let go of me!”
“I fucking saw you.” The man pushed Frank’s head down so he was bent over the counter and leaned over him, twisting Frank’s arms up behind his back.
“Get off me!” Frank thrashed but the man was bigger than him and he couldn’t break free. “Let go! I didn’t steal anything!”
“Stop lying, you son of a bitch.” He twisted Frank’s wrist and dug his fingernails in.
Frank screamed. “Let me go!”
“Get your fucking hands off him.”
Next thing he knew, the guy was on the floor with a bleeding cut down the side of his face. Gerard grabbed Frank’s shoulder and pushed him forcefully toward the door.
“Get the fuck out,” he shouted. He was holding his gun. Frank couldn’t make his legs work; he stared at Gerard.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the guy yelled back. He pushed himself to his feet and reached for Frank again. “He’s a fucking thief. Nobody steals from me.”
Gerard lifted the gun and aimed it at the man’s head. “He’s not a fucking thief. He’s mine, and you will not lay one finger on him, do you understand me? Get in the car, Frank.”
“You crazy son of a—”
“Don’t think I won’t kill you.”
Frank heard sirens off in the distance. “Gee,” he whispered.
“Get in the fucking car!”
“Don’t even think about it,” the man hissed smugly.
“Gerard!” Frank cried.
That seemed to pull Gerard out of his staring contest. He flinched and fired the gun into the air. It left a perfect round hole in the ceiling. He grabbed Frank’s wrist and yanked him along. They ran to the car; Gerard pushed Frank into the driver’s seat and Frank crawled over the center console while Gerard clambered in after him.
There was a cop car coming down the street, lights flashing, and it turned into the opposite side of the parking lot. Gerard turned the key forcefully and stepped on the gas.
“Shit,” he breathed. “Shit.”
“Why’d you come back?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Why did you come back for me? You were out.”
“Shut up, Frank, I’m trying to get us out of here alive. Shut the fuck up.”
Frank twisted around in his seat. The cop car was parked in front of the store with the door open. A few seconds later, the cop in his shiny black uniform and the creepy guy ran outside. They drove around a corner and Frank lost sight of them. He didn’t think they’d seen Gerard’s car.
“Why did you come back?” he asked again, once Gerard’s grip on the steering wheel wasn’t turning his knuckles white.
“I can’t let you go,” Gerard said stiffly.
“Why?”
“They’ll catch me if I do.”
Frank crossed his arms over his chest. “I wouldn’t tell,” he shot back defiantly.
“I don’t care what you think. I’m not letting you go.”
“Ever?”
Gerard didn’t answer. Frank was quiet for several minutes, and Gerard eventually turned on the radio. They were getting closer to Jersey, but they still wasn’t close enough to pick up Frank’s favorite radio stations back home, and Gerard fiddled with it until they were listening to something other than static.
“You love me,” Frank whispered confidently. “That’s why you came back for me.”
“I don’t love you,” Gerard muttered.
Frank stared at him. “Yes. You do. You saved me.”
“Hate to break your heart, Frankie, but I saved me.”
“I love you, Gee.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do,” Frank shouted. “I fucking love you, and you love me back, just admit it! I know you do!”
“I don’t.”
“Gerard, come on. You do, I know it.”
Gerard swerved violently off the road and slammed the car to a halt in an empty parking lot. He turned in his seat to face Frank and grabbed Frank’s chin.
“Listen to me,” he hissed. “I don’t love you and you don’t love me. It’s all in your fucked up head. I went back for you because I don’t trust you and I don’t want to get caught, do you understand that? Now, shut the fuck up so I can get us out of here.” He glared at Frank, then said, “I don’t fucking love you.”
Gerard’s thumb was pressed to the corner of Frank’s mouth, and when he licked his lips, his tongue lingered there for a moment as he tasted the saltiness of Gerard’s skin. He opened his mouth slightly and Gerard traced Frank’s lower lip. Frank didn’t miss the way Gerard stared at his mouth. He licked Gerard’s thumb again.
“Stop it,” Gerard whispered.
“Stop what?” Frank asked. His lips pressed against Gerard’s thumb in an accidental kiss. Gerard just closed his eyes and shook his head. After a few seconds, he pushed Frank away and turned forwards again. He didn’t speak again until they pulled into a motel parking lot.
***
Gerard spread Frank out on his back, arms and legs stretched to each corner of the bed. His hands were light and gentle as they moved up Frank’s calves, his thighs, his hips, to his stomach, just beneath his ribs. There was a bruise there from being slammed into the sharp counter. Gerard glanced up at Frank’s face and pressed a finger into the bruise until Frank inhaled harshly. He wouldn’t make a sound, though.
His hands continued up to Frank’s arms, both of which had a series of mottled bruises beneath the tattoos. Some of them were Gerard’s, from when Gerard jerked him around and pulled him along, but some of them weren’t. Those were from the creepy guy; Gerard pressed down on them like he had the one on Frank’s stomach, pushing hard enough to make Frank gasp.
Frank stayed completely still and tried not to flinch away from Gerard’s touch. He wasn’t handcuffed, and Gerard wasn’t really holding him there. It was almost like a test of Frank’s willpower. He knew Gerard wanted him still, and he was determined to do just that.
“What do you want from me?” Gerard whispered.
Frank looked down and held his gaze. “Anything you’ll give me.”
“What if I don’t want you?” Gerard bent down over Frank and rested his chin on Frank’s stomach. “What if I want to tie you up and leave you here?”
Frank bit his lip and didn’t answer. The thought of Gerard abandoning him like that made his heart hurt.
“What if I want to fuck you every night and never let you come? Or make you always dress like a girl? Or sleep on the floor?”
Frank didn’t answer. He said, “I love you.”
Gerard pinched Frank’s side hard enough that he flinched. “Why do you think that?”
“Because.”
“Answer the question, Frankie.”
Frank closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he could explain it to Gerard’s face. It hurt too much to think about, so he just didn’t, usually. “You’re the only person who’s cared about me,” he began quietly. “You like the things I like, and you remember everything about me, so I know you pay attention. You’re beautiful. You’re a good person. I just… I love you.”
“I kidnapped you, Frankie,” Gerard pointed out softly. “You can’t love me.”
“But I do,” Frank replied earnestly. He opened his eyes and saw Gerard watching him. Gerard tilted his head and his hair brushed Frank’s skin, tickling him.
“Was your life really so awful that this is better? Being on the run, handcuffed to beds, dressed in girls’ clothes? How is that better than living your own life?”
Frank moved his arms. He reached down and touched Gerard’s shoulder tenderly, brushing Gerard’s dark hair out of the way. “I need it like that.”
Gerard’s eyes flicked over to Frank’s arm and he pressed his lips together tightly. He took Frank’s wrists and crawled over him, stretching Frank’s arms up to the headboard. “I thought you could stay still, Frankie,” he murmured. “Apparently I was wrong.”
Frank rolled his shoulders as best he could and clasped his hands together. “I’m sorry.”
Gerard let go of him and leaned close, but he just looked down at Frank for a moment. His hair was falling down around his face and brushing Frank’s cheek, like a curtain around them, a secluded little bubble.
“Now, stay like that and don’t fucking move.”
Frank nodded without breaking eye contact. Finally, Gerard leaned in and kissed him. It was just enough to leave Frank wanting more; Gerard then moved down to Frank’s throat, then his chest, laying kisses and bites all over Frank’s skin.
Frank held in a moan; Gerard hadn’t said to be quiet, but Frank thought it was implied. But then Gerard’s teeth grazed his nipple and Frank couldn’t resist any longer. He arched his back and whined. Whatever Gerard gave him, it wasn’t enough. He pushed his hips up, begging for friction, and Gerard moved out of reach; he arched his back to follow Gerard’s mouth and Gerard just moved with him. All the gentle half-touches were driving him crazy and he needed more. He craved more.
Gerard swirled his tongue around the bruise on Frank’s stomach, pushing hard enough for Frank to feel the sharp throb of pain beneath it. Frank couldn’t take it.
“Oh god, Gerard, please… Please, more, I need you.”
Gerard grinned wickedly up at him. “I’m right here, Frankie.”
Frank closed his eyes. “Please touch me.”
Gerard wrapped his hand around Frank’s aching cock and Frank was so surprised that he cried out, his hips jerking up to meet Gerard’s motions.
“Weren’t expecting that, were you?” Gerard asked, sounding amused.
Frank shook his head. “Please…”
“More?”
“Anything.”
**********
part 3