Archive of Our Own

Frank didn’t exactly look shy – but he was.

His hair, black and always falling into his eyes, was perpetually messy, borderline greasy. His uniform never sat quite right: tie crooked, shirt half-untucked from beige dress pants, sleeves sometimes rolled up just enough to earn a scolding from the hallway monitors. He’d grown used to the reprimands, teachers calling out his name before he even opened his mouth.

He had a decent group of friends. The kind you laugh with at lunch and walk to class with, but never really talk to. Surface-level, always. And it stung more than he liked to admit. Sometimes he missed the deeper conversations, the kind he still had with his mom on late-night calls, or the long-forgotten comfort of childhood friends who still texted him every few months like nothing had changed.

Sometimes he wished he could reply honestly instead of with the usual “Yeah, I’m good, you?” when they asked how things were going. But vulnerability wasn’t exactly trending in their circle. It was all jokes and sarcasm and pretending not to care about anything, which actually took a lot of effort.

But things had changed. Growing up felt like slowly going numb. Not all at once. Just piece by piece, like someone turning the dimmer switch down on everything that used to matter to him.

These days, he laughed at jokes that weren’t funny and rolled his eyes when the fifth guy that week whispered to see the “secret tattoo” on his forearm, a small, slightly crooked star he got on impulse to feel cool without his parents ever finding out. They all expected something badass or dangerous, but he never had the heart to tell them it meant nothing.

The days bled together in monotony: same classes, same corridors, same uniform, same sermons. He tried to keep up his grades, his parents were paying way too much for this “prestigious Catholic experience”, but the truth was, he hated it. Hated the grey-tiled hallways and the way the choir music always sounded funereal. Hated pulling out his lip ring anytime a teacher raised an eyebrow. Hated the fact that the only people he could call friends were guys who didn't even know when his birthday was.

Sometimes he prayed. Sometimes he didn’t. But lately, at least, he hadn’t gone to bed crying.

Meanwhile, on the opposite end of the social oblivion spectrum, Gerard was not doing much better. If Frank’s version of survival was rebellion, Gerard’s was quiet… well, everything.

Gerard and Frank had at least one thing in common: the hair. Black, straight, eternally disobedient.

But unlike Frank, Gerard was actually shy. Spiritually, Gerard felt like the weird kid who gets shoved in lockers or ends up with their head in a toilet bowl by school bullies in movies, even if that stuff never actually happened to him.

He hated going out. He hated calculus. And most of all, he hated being forced to play croquet in a stupid P.E. uniform that made his thighs look too noticeable for someone desperately trying not to be perceived.

The idea to send him to Catholic school came from his mother, the most angelic and devout woman ever. And his dad, ever the hopeless romantic, nodded along with whatever she said, even if it meant packing their oldest son off to some rich-kid purgatory where he’d wear a tie, sing hymns, and pretend he didn’t enjoy looking at boys.

Because yeah, that part didn’t go unnoticed. It’s not that his parents were clueless, they noticed. They just chose to correct it before it was “too late.” And so, here he was. A new transfer at the most boring, beige school on Earth, arriving awkwardly near the end of the school year because his mom thought a little "exposure therapy" might straighten him out. Literally.

So now he was being gently launched into his own personal hell, surrounded by his biggest distraction, in shared dorms, under tight schedules, and under God. Boys. Everywhere.

Their first meeting was painfully awkward, but that was just how things went in Gerard’s life. Always had. Always would.

He stood outside the dorm room door, clutching the strap of his old navy backpack. The door loomed in front of him, dark and heavy and terrifying. A small plaque read: Frank Iero. Gerard read it silently, letting the name roll over his tongue like a prayer he wasn't supposed to say out loud.

Frank.

He took a breath. Then another. Then one more, because the first two didn’t help. Finally, he twisted the knob and pushed the door open, already regretting every life choice that had led him to this moment. Even if they weren't really his.

Inside stood a boy, short, black hair, sharp eyes, clearly not expecting company. He was facing the mirror, adjusting his tie. He turned slowly at the sound of the door creaking open.

“…Can I help you?”

The first thought that shot through Gerard’s brain was: Yeah. You can definitely help me.

But what actually came out, after a long pause, was: “Hi.”

Frank blinked. “Hi… are you lost or something?”

Gerard’s mouth went dry. Oh god. The uniform. He looks so good in the uniform. He looks illegal in the uniform. Somewhere in his lost brain, words began to form.

“I’m… new roommate.” Jesus Christ. He sounded like a caveman. Where had verbs gone? Why was he like this?

Frank tilted his head, the expression on his face shifting from confusion to amusement. “Oh, are you Gerard? Sorry, I thought you were coming tomorrow.”

He said his name. He knew his name. Gerard felt his soul briefly leave his body. He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing made it to the surface. He was just standing there, stunned.

To be fair, he was supposed to arrive tomorrow. But he’d packed early, and the school had said his room was already available, and– none of that mattered. None of it would come out. Words had abandoned him like all good things inevitably did.

He didn’t even get a chance to explain. Frank was already brushing past him, tie finally adjusted, backpack slung over one shoulder. He paused at the door.

“Okay, see you around, man.”

Then, casually, without hesitation, he gave Gerard a friendly pat on the shoulder. It lasted a second. Maybe less. But it burned into his skin just like a divine mark.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Gerard stood there, still holding his backpack, still processing what had just happened. Slowly, he brought his hand up to touch the exact spot on his shoulder where Frank had touched him.

He was completely fucked.

The interaction had been brief, but for some reason, Gerard couldn’t stop thinking about him. His mind kept looping the moment like a VHS tape. The shoulder pat. The tie. The “See you around, man.” It all echoed around his head nonstop, even though the whole thing had taken like less than two minutes and included approximately three sentences. Total.

He scanned the dorm slowly, letting his eyes drift over what was now their shared space. Frank’s side of the room looked like a war zone: rumpled sheets, a hoodie half-draped off the bed, and... was that a stuffed bear by his pillow?

Gerard blinked. Okay. Unexpected, but surely endearing. It had a red ribbon around its neck. He stared at it a second too long before looking away, it felt like he’d accidentally seen something private.

He stepped carefully through the room like he was investigating a crime scene, not touching anything, just observing and cataloging. Trying to build a psychological profile of his new roommate.

Frank, it turned out, was a mess. Worn clothes were tossed in random piles, notebooks around the floor. A black boxer brief peeked out from under the bed, Gerard caught sight of it and immediately turned away, cheeks burning. He moved on, pretending like he hadn’t just almost died because of it.

Frank’s desk, at least, hinted at a different side, his textbooks were splayed open, with highlighters scattered across the surface. It seemed like he wasn’t just winging his way through school. Maybe he tried sometimes. The closet door was cracked open, but Gerard made himself look away. He didn’t really want to snoop. Not intentionally, at least. Not when he barely even knew the guy, the guy he had already decided to be stupidly infatuated with.

His feet carried him to the bathroom. A tie hung from the doorknob. Frank's, he assumed. Toothpaste marks dotted the sink. It was, as far as bathrooms go, pretty average. There was a toothbrush. Aftershave. Cologne.

He stared at the bottle of cologne without blinking. Don’t smell it, his brain warned. Don’t you dare be that weird.

Gerard backed out of the bathroom quickly and shut the door gently behind him, like if he moved too fast, his dignity would slip out of his hands completely. He sat on his empty bed, with his face warm and heart racing.

It was too much. The smell of the room, the thought of Frank’s hoodie, the overwhelming presence of him in every inch. Gerard was going to lose it, and he'd just arrived.

To distract himself from the boxer briefs, the cologne, and the entire spiral, Gerard started to unpack his things.

First came the bedding. He smoothed out his sheets with precision, making hospital corners his mother would be proud of. The pillow sat exactly in the center with the blanket folded just right. His side of the room looked like it belonged to someone who ironed socks.

For him, it wasn't really just a habit, maybe more... survival? A small, silent ritual to keep the panic at bay. If his bed was perfect, then maybe things weren’t falling apart. If his pillow sat just right, then maybe he was sitting just right, too.

Next were his clothes, tucked neatly into the empty closet. His toiletries bag took up the smallest possible footprint on the edge of the sink, afraid of taking up space.

Then came the photo. He placed it carefully beside his bed, a picture of him and his little brother, mid-laugh, both covered in sand at some long-forgotten beach. His chest ached and warmed all at once. The edges of the photo were soft from years of handling, and it sat like an anchor, a little piece of home in a place that already felt too cold. He lingered on the image, fingers grazing the frame. For a second, he could almost hear the ocean again.

And then, the final touch: the action figures.

They marched out of his duffel bag, lined up in neat, proud rows across half of his desk. Bright colors, with capes and tiny plastic weapons. The full collection. His little army. But he hesitated. Maybe he shouldn’t put them up. Maybe Frank would think he was a loser, or a freak, or some nerd stuck in middle school.

But after a long pause, Gerard squared his shoulders. Screw it. He liked them and they made him feel safe. And if Frank had a problem with it, well... he could take it up with Captain America.

Gerard didn’t have any classes scheduled for the day, his first was tomorrow morning, Math, with some professor whose last name looked like a typo. So for now, he curled up on his freshly made bed, propped neatly against his perfectly arranged pillows, and let himself sink into one of his favorite comic books.

It was a familiar one, with dog-eared pages and a cracked spine. He didn’t really register the plot, though. His brain kept wandering, flicking through memories of the drive, the room, the way Frank had said his name.

He thought about going outside. Maybe exploring the campus, maybe trying to meet someone. Be social or brave or whatever. But to him, the quiet of the dorm was so nice. After the long drive from home, full of awkward silences with his mom and overly cheerful encouragement from his dad, all he wanted was to breathe alone.

Not that he was ever any different. People were... exhausting. And scary. His peaceful bubble didn’t last long, though, the doorknob jiggled. And his heart jiggled with it.

The door swung open. Frank stepped in, already pulling at the knot of his tie and kicking off his scuffed Converse, which Gerard was pretty sure weren’t part of the dress code. He also smelled faintly like cigarette smoke. Gerard’s brain short-circuited just a little.

“Oh, hey! Sorry I didn’t stick around earlier,” Frank said easily, like they were old friends. “I was super late to class.”

“It’s okay,” Gerard managed, voice small and tight in his throat.

Frank didn’t seem bothered by the lack of energy on Gerard’s end. He just kept moving, toeing his shoes fully off and pulling open his closet. “Also, yeah, sorry about the mess. I’ll admit I’m not the cleanest.”

He smiled. Gerard’s heart jumped like it had heard something special.

“Let me know if you need anything,” Frank added, grabbing a change of clothes. “Oh, and, nice action figures, by the way!”

Gerard didn’t answer, just smiled. But apparently, that was enough because Frank gave a satisfied little nod, then turned and headed toward the bathroom, already tugging his shirt off as he walked in.

Gerard caught a brief glimpse of his back, pale skin, a faint inked outline just below his shoulder blade, and then the bathroom door shut behind him. A second later, the sound of running water filled the room. Gerard stared blankly at his comic book, brain not processing any panels.

His days settled into a quiet rhythm. Boring classes. Even more boring religious lectures. Comic books at night, lit dimly by the warm glow of his bedside lamp, while Frank snored softly just a few feet away. Too-tight dress pants. Too much hair gel to keep the hair in check. Everything uncomfortable in all the usual ways.

It wasn’t terrible. But it wasn’t anything special either. Just like any other school, except Gerard was slowly, hopelessly falling for his roommate.

Frank was nice. Not in the condescending way people sometimes treated Gerard, like being kind to him was a charity. Frank was casual and honest. He seemed genuinely interested when he wanted to be, and charmingly sarcastic when he didn’t. He made fun of teachers and cafeteria food with a smirk on his face, and Gerard would nod along, offering his quiet opinions when there was space to speak. The thing was... there was always space, and Gerard was more grateful for it than he let on.

He started to notice the little things, like how Frank always hung out with the sporty boys. The ones with sun-bleached hair, skateboards, and nicotine fingers. They lingered around stairwells and parking lots between classes, vanishing in pairs during breaks with the scent of smoke trailing behind them. And for the first time in his life, Gerard felt... curious.

Not just about Frank, though that curiosity ran deep and loud and sharp, but about them. What it would feel like to belong somewhere. To be part of a group. To laugh without overthinking. To sit on cracked pavement and complain about cafeteria food and life like it didn’t all feel like a silly performance. He wasn’t there, maybe he never would be, but the wanting had started and it felt so strong.

Things started to shift one night. It was late, probably around 1 am, and Gerard was where he usually was: curled under his blanket, comic book in hand, lit by the soft glow of his bedside lamp. The volume was one he’d read a hundred times, but it still held his attention.

The rest of the room was quiet, and Frank’s side of the room had long gone still, no music or shifting, just steady breathing in the dark.

Gerard was so absorbed in the comic that he almost didn’t hear it at first.

A soft sound. A sniffle.

He paused and blinked. Maybe it was nothing, a trick of the night, a random sound bleeding in from the hallway. But then he heard it again.

Another quiet sniffle. An unsteady breath. The shuffle of fabric.

Gerard turned his head. Frank was lying on his side, back to the room, the sheets pulled up to his shoulders. His body was almost still, but the shake of his shoulders gave him away. Not quite sobbing, but not breathing normally, either.

Gerard hesitated. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to intrude. Frank didn’t seem like the kind of person who wanted to be seen like this. He was... cool.

Gerard had also seen him. Day after day. His kindness, the space he gave. The way he never laughed too loudly when Gerard tried to talk, how he listened, even when he didn’t have to.

He was a good friend.

“Frank?”

A pause.

“…Are you okay?”

Silence.

Frank didn’t answer, didn’t move, and Gerard didn’t push. He laid back again, the lamp still casting a golden light over his comic, but the pages had lost their spark. He couldn’t stop thinking.

What could Frank possibly be sad about? He was popular and charming, had friends everywhere, and even the girls from the school next door swooned when he walked past. His lip ring was super cool and badass. He wore band shirts Gerard didn’t even recognize. He wasn’t supposed to be crying like a loser in his room at night, but... there he was... coming undone just a bed away.

Gerard didn’t sleep for a long time, because his brain just wouldn’t shut up. The image of Frank’s back, curled, covered in a black t-shirt, stayed with him long after the lamp was off.

Over the next few days, Frank started avoiding him.

The easy banter they’d shared after classes faded into silence. The casual jokes, gone. Frank started staying out later and later with his friends, pushing curfew, coming back with cigarette smoke in his hair and detention slips stuffed in his blazer pocket. He barely looked Gerard in the eyes anymore.

Their conversations shrank to functional exchanges: “you'll be late for class,” “is the bathroom free?”, and even those came laced with disinterest. It felt... cold. Like Gerard had done something wrong without even knowing what. Like he’d accidentally crossed some invisible line that no one had warned him about. And even though he didn’t want to admit it, not even to himself, it hurt a whole fucking lot.

Frank had been the only person at school who felt remotely safe. The only one who made the long days feel less hollow, who made Gerard think that, just maybe, he wasn’t completely invisible. And now he’d vanished, even while sleeping in the bed right next to him.

It wasn’t like there was anything Gerard could do about it, he didn’t feel like he had the right to ask for anything. They weren’t really friends. Frank was just... kind. Or had been before.

Still, one night, when Frank stumbled in past midnight, clearly tipsy, with his tie askew, Gerard found himself blurting it out before he could stop himself.

“Do you maybe wanna play something tomorrow?” he asked, voice unsure but hopeful. “Like an RPG or something. I used to play with my brother, it’s dumb, but... I dunno. It’s fun.”

For a second, there was silence. Enough time for Gerard’s heart to stutter. Frank didn’t even look at him, just let out a short, dry scoff, shook his head once, not even a full ‘no’, and collapsed onto his bed, with his uniform and shoes still on.

Gerard stared at the ceiling. He turned his back to Frank, heart pounding, cheeks burning hot with shame. His mouth was dry. His chest hurt in that stupid way it always did when he let himself hope for too much. He lay awake for a long time, curled under his blankets, trying not to cry. It was stupid to think he ever had a chance with someone like Frank, even as a friend, let alone something more. That night, it was Gerard who faced the wall.

A few more days passed like that, tense and offbeat. Frank still kept his distance as the easy conversations they’d once shared after class were gone, replaced by clipped words and Frank's late nights out. Gerard watched from the sidelines as his roommate slipped deeper into his crowd of loud boys, all jokes and hidden joints behind the chapel.

He barely looked at Gerard anymore, and even though he tried not to dwell on it, Gerard couldn’t help but think back to that night, with Frank's shaking shoulders, his silent tears, the moment he asked what was wrong. Something had cracked between them, and Gerard didn’t know how to fix it, he wasn't even sure what it was.

Still, a part of him stayed hopeful. Maybe it was just temporary. Maybe Frank would come around and they’d go back to talking in the dark, laughing about school rumors, sharing toothpaste and awkward silences that didn’t feel that awkward. He held onto that maybe like a life raft, because hope was stupid, but it was also all he had.

Today, though, was PE. Gerard’s personal hell.

Too many boys packed into one room, all half-naked and loud. The locker room was thick with heat and deodorant spray. Gerard changed fast, showered faster, and kept his head down the whole time. It was second nature by now, the art of being invisible.

He was already dressed again, fussing with his tie in the fogged mirror, when he heard familiar footsteps behind him.

Frank.

Still in PE shorts, shirtless, damp hair clinging to his forehead. Gerard froze for half a second, just long enough to hate himself, before pretending to focus on his reflection again. His cheeks flushed warm. He didn’t mean to look, but Frank had a way of existing that drew your eyes without permission.

Frank stepped up beside him, opened his locker, didn’t say a word. And then: “Hi.”

It was quiet. Maybe like an apology?

Gerard glanced at him, unsure. “Hey.”

Silence.

Gerard’s heart was doing that terrible nervous flutter thing. Frank didn’t even glance his way, just rummaged through his locker with what appeared to be tense movements. His shoulders looked tired and heavy, whatever he was carrying had been sitting there too long. Gerard had to say something.

“Is everything okay?”

Frank didn’t turn. “Yeah. Why?”

“You just seem… different.”

That made Frank pause. He shut the locker door with more force than necessary, the clang of metal bouncing off the tile. “Different how?”

“You don’t even talk to me anymore,” Gerard said, and immediately hated how small it sounded. Like a child pointing out that someone had stopped playing with them.

Another silence.

Frank’s shoulders tensed. “Why do you care?”

Gerard blinked. “What?”

“I said – why do you care?”

And there it was again. That edge. That bitterness that hadn’t been there before. Like Gerard had done something wrong just by missing him.

“I just…” Gerard started, his mouth dry. He didn’t even know what he was trying to say.

“What? Do you have a crush on me or something?”

It was loud.

Loud enough to echo and bounce off tile and slam into Gerard’s chest like a punch. Loud enough that the three boys who had just walked into the changing room caught exactly that part. Their laughter started immediately.

Mocking whistles, and fake kissing noises and exaggerated gasps. One of the boys snorted, “Looks like someone’s in love with Frankie,” and the others dissolved into even more laughter.

Gerard froze and his whole face went hot, blood pounding in his ears. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to disappear. His fingers clenched instinctively around the edge of the sink.

He came to this school to avoid this. He’d told himself it would be different, with stricter rules, uniforms, fewer people trying to define him by what made him other. And somehow, Frank had managed to strip all of that protection away in one second.

Frank saw it too.

Gerard's eyes watered, stubborn and blinking too fast. Heartbreak cracked across his expression.

“Shit, Gerard, I didn’t mean—”

But Gerard was already grabbing his things. His vision was blurry, his hands were shaking, but he shoved his notebook under his arm and shouldered his bag as fast as he could.

Frank reached for him, hand brushing his wrist. “Wait–”

His fingers brushed Gerard’s wrist, a ghost of a touch. Gerard flinched like it burned.

“I’m sorry,” Frank said quickly, voice low and urgent now, but Gerard wasn’t listening. He didn’t want sorry, not in front of this audience. Not after being humiliated. He walked out, teeth clenched, tears trailing down his cheeks in angry streaks.

Frank didn’t hesitate. Still shirtless and in shorts, he ran after him, ignoring the boys behind him, ignoring the laughter and the stares. The hallway outside the locker room was empty, echoing with his bare footsteps on the tile.

But Gerard was gone. Vanished into the maze of classrooms and corridors, as Frank stood there alone, chest rising and falling. And then, like the universe couldn’t help but punish him further, a staff monitor turned the corner and spotted him: no shirt, flushed face, completely out of bounds.

“Mr. Iero,” a voice snapped behind him. “What the hell are you doing running around like this?”

Frank turned slowly. A staff monitor with his arms crossed, looking directly at him. Still no shirt. Still damp. Still flushed and breathless and spiraling. Frank didn’t answer, he didn’t care at that moment. The words “Another detention” barely registered as they hit his ears. He just leaned back against the cold wall, running a hand through his damp hair, heart still pounding from the look on Gerard’s face, eyes still searching down the empty hallway.

He’d just hurt the sweetest boy in the world.

Gerard didn’t go back to his room. Instead, he ended up behind one of the least-used chapels on campus, the one reserved for ceremonies, graduations, and occasional Very Important Masses. It was tucked away near the edge of the garden, shadowed by ivy-covered walls and almost forgotten by everyone except the groundskeepers. And maybe ghosts.

He sat down on one of the mossy stones behind it, still in his stiff uniform, tie askew, chest heaving from the adrenaline crash. His body hadn’t caught up to what had happened, it just knew something had gone wrong. And then, quietly, like something breaking in him gave permission, he cried. Gerard hated crying. Hated the way it made his throat tighten and his face burn. But he’d learned, over time, that sometimes it was the only way to survive. It was a way for him to release his emotions, far away from witnesses or any form of comfort.

There was no one around to see him. Good.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, head in his hands, and let it happen. Gerard didn’t know how long he sat there, letting it out in shaky waves. Long enough that his shoulders started to ache from the tension. Long enough that the tears eventually slowed to hiccups, then silence.

It wasn’t that he was ashamed of being gay, not really. Not anymore. He knew who he was. He liked boys. He liked one boy in particular, if he was being honest. Jet-black hair, green eyes, and a crooked grin that had lived rent-free in his head since the first moment they met. But knowing that, being comfortable in it, didn’t make it any easier.

Because it wasn’t just about liking boys, it was about letting himself want. Gerard wanted to feel like he deserved this. Like he could belong to someone, be liked, be seen, be held the way he’d always dreamed of. But wanting it didn’t erase the awful heaviness that settled in his chest every time he thought about actually trying to reach out. Every time he remembered how invisible he could feel in a room full of people. How out of place he felt in his own skin.

Frank had felt different. From the beginning, Gerard admired him. He was cool in a natural way, always mouthing off to teachers, getting away with it, tying his tie wrong on purpose and smoking outside when no one was looking. He didn’t seem to care what anyone thought of him and Gerard had envied that.

And behind all that rebellion, there was softness too, the stuffed bear on his bed he secretly cuddled to sleep, the way he always said goodnight, the brief moments of gentleness when he thought no one was paying that much attention. Gerard thought… maybe he was someone safe.

And now? Now he felt like a complete idiot. The one time he’d let his guard down, let himself believe he could belong somewhere, could be wanted, he’d been mocked. And by him of all people.

Laughter still echoed in the back of Gerard’s mind. The way Frank had said it, so flippantly. ‘What? Do you have a crush on me or something?’ God. It echoed. Loud and cruel and stupid.

He laughed bitterly under his breath, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. The only time he tried to feel normal, tried to feel something, and he got burned. “I should just bury myself out here,” he muttered to the empty chapel wall. “Right next to all the saints that would probably tell me I’m going to hell.” More tears came.

Eventually, the crying softened into silence, his ribs ached. He wiped his face with his sleeve and stared at the ground for a long time. He needed to get over it. Over Frank, that is. Over this whole fantasy he’d built in his head. He didn’t have the energy or time to be heartbroken and failing math at the same time.

All while Gerard sat in a hidden garden crying behind a chapel wall, Frank was stuck in the principal’s office, dressed properly this time, uniform ironed, hair damp from a rushed shower, and tie knotted in something that at least resembled professionalism. He sat stiffly in the shiny leather chair across from the desk, spine rigid, eyes downcast, tuning in and out of the scolding like it was a background noise on a loop.

“Do you have any idea how many years this school has prided itself on its discipline?” The principal’s voice thundered across the desk, like he was performing for an invisible crowd. Frank nodded, barely so. Just enough to keep the lecture from dragging longer, but the words kept coming.

About the uniform, how Frank’s shirt was always untucked, how his lip ring had no place in a Catholic institution. About his slipping grades, Math, English, even Music, the one subject he used to care about. About how his mother had sounded tired, disappointed, on the phone when she heard about yet another detention.

“Smoking on school grounds,” the principal repeated slowly, with theatrical disgust. “Again.” Frank’s ears burned red.

Frank felt humiliated. He was eighteen. A legal adult, technically. But sitting here, he felt like a kid again, one who had let everyone down and didn’t know how to make it right. Especially the one person he actually cared about disappointing, even if he hadn't shown it that much during the past few weeks. Yeah, it hurt. But it wasn’t anything new. Frank already knew he was screwing up.

And yet, through it all, through the pointed fingers and the dragging lectures and the guilt collecting in his throat, he couldn’t stop thinking about Gerard. The way his face had crumpled. How fast he’d grabbed his things and disappeared. The way he didn’t even look back. Frank knew he messed up.

He didn’t mean it, that comment, the tone, the mockery it accidentally carried. It just spilled out, a knee-jerk reaction born out of panic and the pressure of the moment. Boys had entered the room. He’d felt the wall of expectation slam into him. He knew it was cowardly, but now, the damage had already been done.

And it wasn’t what he meant. He didn’t want to say it like that. Hell, he didn’t even know what he wanted, but he knew it wasn’t that.

He wanted to explain. Apologize, properly, and honestly, and without running from it like he always did when things got real.

But instead, here he was. Pinned to a chair, nodding through another half-hour sermon about failure and second chances and Catholic virtue. A rebel without a cause, they called him. Like they hadn’t even tried to ask what the cause was.

And all he wanted right now, more than another chance, more than a cigarette, more than his mother’s forgiveness, was to find Gerard, look him in the eye, and say something true. Even if it came out messy, Frank wanted to be honest.

When the principal finally let him go, Frank didn’t waste a second. He sprinted back to the dorms, heart thudding, lungs tight, as if apologizing might become impossible the longer he waited. He slammed through the door, breath halfway between panic and hope. But Gerard wasn’t there, it was just an empty room.

Frank let out a breath through his teeth and leaned against the doorframe. Shit. Of course. He was probably still hiding somewhere, probably crying. Or furious. Or both. The silence in the room felt different now. He hated himself for making it that way.

He moved slowly through the dorm, picking up scattered clothes, the cluttered mess suddenly an embarrassment now that Gerard wasn’t there to see it.

A black hoodie off the desk chair. A lone sock from the floor. The empty energy drink on the windowsill. Then, reaching under his bed, he found his stuffed bear.

He held it for a moment, not even sure why, but the weight of it in his hands made his chest tighten. He hugged it close, just for a second, quick and hidden and human. Then he placed it gently on his pillow, straightened it like it was something sacred, and stood back.

His eyes drifted to the other side of the room. Gerard’s bed, perfectly made as always. A neat pile of comics by the lamp. And then, a photo. Frank moved toward it without thinking. It was a small picture, easy to miss in the usual clutter of their lives, but it caught his attention now. In it, Gerard was maybe six or seven, grinning beside a younger boy with the same eyes and scrappy hair. His brother, Frank guessed. There was something about it that gutted him.

“God,” he muttered to himself. “I’m such an asshole.”

He didn’t know how to fix it, but he had to at least try. His class had already started ten minutes ago, one more absence and he’d probably be on some academic watchlist. But for once, he didn’t care. Frank pulled a page from the back of his notebook, then paused. What the hell was he even supposed to say?

He chewed on the pen cap for a second, then scribbled something fast. It was messy, rushed, probably too honest, but maybe that was the point.

Hey Gerard,
It’s Frank.
I just wanted to say I’m really sorry for what happened earlier.
And for how I’ve been acting these past few days. You didn’t deserve that at all.
If you feel like it, maybe we could talk?
(Or play that RPG you mentioned, I think I’d be pretty good at being a wizard or something, not gonna lie.)
Anyway. I’m sorry.
I mean it.
– Frankie :(

He stared at the note for a second, internally cringing at the sad face. Too much? Probably. But he left it anyway. Frank folded it in half and placed it gently on Gerard’s bedside table, just beside the photo. He hesitated, then adjusted the paper slightly so it sat straight.

Then, with one last glance at the quiet room they shared, he left. He had no idea what Gerard would do. Whether he’d tear it up or ignore it or never speak to him again, but at least he’d said something, the weight on his back was just a tad less heavy now.

For a while, they didn’t cross paths at all. Gerard had timed it that way on purpose, he waited in the chapel garden, hidden in the shade of a crumbling statue, until he was certain Frank would be stuck in afternoon classes. The coast was clear.

When he finally made it back to the dorm, the silence was a relief. The door clicked shut behind him, muffling the world again. He kicked off his shoes, loosened his tie, and collapsed onto the bed like a starfish, arms spread wide, staring up at the ceiling where a crucifix hung

His eyes were raw. Nose stuffy. His body felt like it had been hollowed out and filled with wet cotton. He sighed long and heavy, blinking at the ceiling.

He thought maybe reading would help. Just something familiar that didn’t involve feelings or boys or real life. So he reached for the comic by his pillow, and that’s when he noticed it.

A small piece of paper folded in half sitting neatly on his bedside table. He froze. His fingers hovered over it like it might burn him. He knew who it was from before he even touched it. Gerard picked it up, slowly, like it was fragile. He opened it. And read. And then he read it again. And again.

His stomach turned over, a cocktail of feelings bubbling up, part giddy, part furious, part already crying again for no reason.

Frank’s handwriting was messy. His note was… sweet. Stupidly sweet. It made Gerard want to smile and scream at the same time. He didn’t know what to do with that. He didn’t know what he should feel. The pain from earlier was still lodged inside him, sharp and recent. However the note, the small effort put in there, pulled at something soft inside him too.

Without thinking, he folded the paper back up and slipped it into his pocket. Somewhere he could keep it close and safe, where he wouldn’t have to see it too often but without the risk of losing it altogether. He needed to breathe. He decided on a second shower, not exactly for cleanliness, but to have some clarity.

Gerard let the hot water run down his face, his neck, his shoulders, steaming away the weight of the day. He stayed under the spray for what could’ve been minutes or hours, watching thoughts swirl down the drain until his chest felt a little lighter.

Finally, when his fingers were pruney and his head had quieted down, he stepped out. He wrapped a towel around his waist, not bothering with clothes, the dorm was empty anyway. Or so he thought.

He opened the door to a wave of steam, one hand holding the towel’s edge at his hip, and froze. Frank was there. Sitting on Gerard’s bed like it was his, flipping absently through a comic book, still in his uniform but with the top buttons undone.

“WHAT the fuck are you doing here?” Gerard shrieked, his voice jumping a full octave as he darted back behind the bathroom door, gripping it like a shield. Only his head and a curtain of wet hair peeked out.

Frank startled like he'd just been caught stealing. “Oh my God, shit!” he gasped, throwing a hand over his eyes. “Why are you coming out of the bathroom naked?!”

“I live here!” Gerard snapped, heart pounding out of his damp chest. “This is literally my room!”

“Look, I thought I had time to-”

“To what? Break into my bed and read my comics naked?!”

“I’m not naked!”

“Well I am!”

“I can tell!!”

They both groaned at the same time. Gerard slid further behind the door until only the tip of his nose stuck out as Frank kept his hand plastered over his eyes.

A beat passed. Frank lowered his voice. “Look, can we not do this? Please? I—I didn’t come here to fight. I just wanted to talk. Or apologize. Or... both.”

Gerard’s face twisted, flushed red, from embarrassment and from frustration. “Oh, now you want to talk? After ignoring me for days and humiliating me in front of everyone?”

Frank winced. “I’m trying now, okay?”

“Well it’s kind of hard to talk when I’m naked.”

“I said I’m sorry. I’ll go, okay?” Frank stood up quickly, knocking the comic book off his lap, hand still over his eyes. “You can change, and I’ll come back in like, an hour or whatever.”

“Wait. No, don’t.” It came out faster than he meant to. He swallowed, then added: “Just… turn around. And no peeking.”

Frank smirked. “You got it.” He turned on his heel and faced the wall, lifting both hands in surrender.

Gerard sprinted across the room, flinging open his closet with the grace of a newborn deer and scrambled into his underwear, sweatpants, and the first t-shirt he could find. Frank heard the rustling, the soft thump of the towel hitting the floor, and resisted every urge in his curious teenage body not to look.

“Okay,” he finally said, breathless. “You can turn around.”

Frank pivoted slowly, and when he saw him, he gave a low, teasing whistle. “Looking good, Way.”

Gerard rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the flicker of something in his chest.

Frank sat back down on the edge of his own bed, palms braced on his knees. “So… did you read my note?”

Gerard crossed his arms and nodded once. “Yeah.”

“And?”

“And I’m still mad at you.”

“I figured.” Frank rubbed at the back of his neck. “But I meant what I said, you know. I’m sorry. I was a dick. I freaked out in the locker room, and I took it out on you, and that wasn’t fair.”

Gerard shifted on his feet. “You really hurt me.”

“I know.”

Silence settled between them. Frank broke it first.

“You scare the shit out of me, you know that?”

Gerard blinked. “What?”

Frank shrugged, suddenly looking a little too small even for himself. “You’re just… really you. And I don’t even know what I am half the time. And then I went and messed up the one real connection I actually thought I had here. Even if it's been like... a month.”

Gerard didn’t know what to say to that. His throat felt too dry, and his fingers curled tighter around his arms. Frank glanced up, eyes a little vulnerable in the dim light. “I’m not great at this feelings stuff, I mean. I usually just joke around or get pissed off. But with you… it’s different. I don’t want to mess it up again.”

Gerard let out a breath, the weight in his chest shifting a bit. “Neither do I.”

Frank looked up, eyes sincere now. “I’d still like to do that RPG thing with you. If you’d have me. And not, like, out of guilt or anything. Because I want to.”

Gerard took a moment. Then nodded.

“Cool,” he said. “Maybe you can teach me how to build a cool elf character. Or whatever.”

Gerard’s lips twitched. “You’d make a terrible elf.”

“Why? Because I’m short?”

“Because you’re loud and annoying.”

Frank snorted. “Wow, thanks. Love this bonding experience.”

Gerard looked away, but not before Frank caught the little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

That night, neither of them left the dorm. Frank wouldn’t say it out loud, not even to himself, but it might’ve been the most fun he’d had in ages. No cigarettes, no skipping class, no playing it cool around people he didn’t even like that much. Just the two of them, sitting cross-legged on the dorm floor in a little cocoon of soft lamplight and open notebooks, RPG dice scattered between them.

Gerard wore a mismatched pajama set that made Frank grin, a black tee with a washed-out vampire print and plaid flannel pants a size too big. His hair, still a little damp from earlier, curled around his ears. Frank hadn’t even changed out of his school uniform yet. His tie hung loose, and his shirt had untucked itself halfway during a moment of laughter when Gerard had tried to do a terrible goblin impression.

Time passed in bursts. Frank listened intently as Gerard talked about his favorite campaigns, his voice speeding up the more passionate he got. It was charming, like watching a match catch fire. His hands moved a lot when he spoke, flailing a little as he explained the difference between charisma modifiers and attack rolls, and he kept stopping mid-sentence to make sure Frank was following.

Frank wasn’t really following. But he was watching.

“You’re really cute, you know that?” The words left Frank’s mouth casually, like they weren’t about to knock Gerard flat.

Gerard’s brain completely short-circuited. “Wh—I—what?”

Frank giggled, a breathy giggle, and leaned forward, fingers reaching across the board to gently squish Gerard’s cheek between his thumb and forefinger. “You’re adorable talking about orcs or whatever.”

Gerard rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the massive, traitorous smile curling onto his face. His heart was thundering. It felt too good. For a second, he let himself forget everything else. Just this once, he didn’t overthink. Frank’s thumb lingered for a breath longer than it had to, and Gerard didn’t flinch away.

The hours bled into each other. Somewhere between rolling dice and telling stories, the board game was forgotten, and the two of them ended up lying on the dorm floor. Their legs pointed in opposite directions, but their heads stayed close, their eyes drifting from the ceiling to each other.

Frank broke the silence, voice low and hesitant. “So… I don’t know if I should ask this, but… that night, when I came in late. You asked if I was okay.”

Gerard turned his face slightly toward him, eyes open and waiting.

Frank let out a slow breath. “Why were you awake?”

“I heard you.” Gerard’s voice was soft. “You were… you were crying. I wasn’t trying to be weird. I just… wanted to help.”

Frank winced like the memory still stung. “I know, Gee… Can I call you that?”

Gerard nodded, cheeks warming at the nickname, even more at the gentle tone Frank used.

Frank stared up at the ceiling for a second before answering. “It wasn’t anything deep that night. I just… missed home, I guess. Had a shitty day. Then I realized I couldn’t sneak out to get a smoke without getting in trouble, and it all hit me at once.” He laughed, dry. “Didn’t think you’d notice.”

“I miss home sometimes too. Mostly my brother.” Gerard admitted quietly.

Frank turned to look at him, something tender crossing his face. “Are you two close?”

“Yeah,” Gerard whispered. “Really close. It’s the first time we’ve ever been apart, actually.”

“That’s rough. Why didn’t he come with you? To this school, I mean.”

Gerard hesitated, his throat catching a little. “That’s… kind of a touchy subject.”

Frank didn’t press. “Okay. We don’t have to talk about it.”

Gerard gave him a grateful look, one that Frank caught out of the corner of his eye. For a moment, nothing needed to be said. They just lay there, two boys in a dorm too big for all the stuff they were carrying around in their hearts.

Eventually, Gerard started to drift off first, his eyes fluttering shut, his hand half-curled against the fabric of Frank’s blazer. Frank watched him sleep, then laughed quietly to himself.

When they woke up the next morning still on the floor, Frank stretched with a groan.

“Jesus, I think I broke my spine,” he mumbled, rubbing the side of his neck dramatically. “I’m gonna need, like, a neck brace.”

Gerard just mumbled something half-asleep into the carpet. Frank smiled at him one last time.

After that night, after the awkward comic book ambush and the apology and the hesitant, clumsy patching up of everything that had cracked between them, something shifted. Not drastically, but naturally.

They talked until the early hours of the morning, voices hushed, heads turned toward each other in the dark, lit only by the ambient glow of Gerard’s bedside lamp. Sometimes their conversations were dumb and meaningless: Frank debating whether candy could be considered a proper meal, or Gerard explaining the lore of some obscure comic book villain in way too much detail. Other times, the words felt heavier, almost like secrets, even when they weren’t.

They’d regret it in the morning, of course. Both of them dragging their feet into chapel or first period, barely keeping their eyes open. But it was worth it every time.

They’d started spending more time around the forgotten chapel too, the one tucked behind the school like a relic, crumbling at the edges. It became theirs. A place they could hide out between classes or when the world felt too loud. They’d sit in the overgrown garden behind it, knees pulled up, sharing snacks or stolen watermelon candy from the nearby corner store. Gerard would bring his sketchbook sometimes. Frank would talk about bands Gerard had never heard of. They made each other laugh easily now.

It felt like a secret they didn’t have to keep, but somehow still did. And it was... amazing. And terrifying. Because Gerard couldn’t shake the feeling that he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Gerard’s mind often replayed that feeling, the tight coil in his stomach whenever Frank’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, or when silence stretched between them a little too long. Like they were both holding their breath, waiting for something, maybe the world, maybe themselves, to mess it all up again.

He kept telling himself he was over it, over what happened in the locker room, over how Frank had humiliated him and then just ran after him like that would fix everything. But some part of him still remembered it too clearly. How fast his trust could crack.

It made him cautious, even as his feelings for Frank grew more impossible by the day. Worse still, was how easy Frank made it to fall again.

Because now that things were back to “normal,” Frank had completely dropped the careful, guarded version of himself he’d first shown Gerard. He was loud. Messy. Unfiltered. He changed with the door open. Walked around shirtless. Shaved with the bathroom door cracked, humming to himself and making the whole dorm smell like aftershave. He’d leave his socks in Gerard’s laundry pile and his stuff on Gerard’s side of the desk like he owned it. He talked with his mouth full. Complimented Gerard without thinking, offhand, easy stuff like, “You smell nice,” or “Your hair looks cool like that.” And Gerard, poor, doomed Gerard, soaked it all in.

He wasn’t sure how to deal with it. He didn’t know what it meant that Frank was so comfortable with him, or if it meant anything at all. Maybe this was just what Frank was like with all of his friends. Maybe he was like this with all the other guys he joked around with in class, the ones he sneaked cigarettes with behind the gym. But he didn’t want Frank to be like that with everyone. He wanted this to be different. Wanted them to be different.

Because he didn’t know how to be just friends with someone who made him feel like this, someone who felt like sunlight and chaos and home all at once. He didn’t know how to stop his heart from lurching every time Frank’s shoulder brushed his in the hallway, or every time Frank looked at him a second too long after one of his jokes landed, like he was waiting for something.

Gerard tried not to think about it too much. He told himself to be careful. To slow down and not get ahead of himself. But some nights, when Frank was curled up in his bed across the room, face smushed into his pillow, limbs sprawled in a tangle of dark plaid sheets, one hand still curled around the edge of his stupid stuffed bear, Gerard would watch him through the dim light of his lamp and think: God, I’m so fucked.

A few days later, Gerard was unexpectedly summoned to the principal’s office. His heart dropped. Had he forgotten an assignment? Been caught wandering near the off-limits chapel? Or worse, were they going to expel him for his pathetic croquet performance? God, he hoped it wasn’t the last one.

He arrived flustered, his collar skewed, tie askew, and sweat dotting his brow. But when he reached the office, the door was shut. Inside, muffled voices spilled out, clearly a reprimand was in progress. Through the glass, Gerard spotted a group of boys being scolded. Sitting just outside, slouched on the bench, was Frank.

He looked awful. A blooming black eye shadowed one side of his face, and dried blood clung stubbornly beneath his nose. His uniform was rumpled, his knuckles raw. And yet, all Gerard could think, with a jolt of helpless affection, was how badly he wanted to kiss him. There was something about the way Frank looked in that moment, smaller than usual, vulnerable, stripped of all his usual coolness, that made Gerard’s chest tighten.

He sank down beside him, worry already written across his face. “What happened?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Frank glanced at him briefly, and Gerard caught the shimmer in his eyes, tears unshed, holding on by a thread. But he didn’t speak. Instead, he reached for Gerard’s hand and laced their fingers together with a surprising gentleness.

Gerard didn’t press. He simply nodded once, offering silence in return, and let his thumb trace soothing lines over the bruises on Frank’s knuckles.

When the group of boys filed out of the principal’s office, they passed by Frank and Gerard with crooked smirks stretched across their bruised faces. Gerard didn’t miss the barely-muttered slur, “fag”, passed between them like a dirty secret. Two of them looked just as battered as Frank, fresh bruises blooming on their cheeks, cuts split near their brows.

The principal emerged moments later, rubbing his temples like he’d been carrying the weight of the whole school between his eyes. “Mr. Way, come in, please.”

Gerard nodded, his stomach twisting. He glanced at Frank one last time, their joined hands still resting quietly between them. Then, with reluctant fingers, he let go and rose from the bench, walking into the cold, sterile office that already felt too far away.

Gerard sat gingerly on one of the leather chairs in the middle of the office, the cushion cold and stiff beneath him. Across the room, the principal settled slowly into his own high-backed chair, it seemed designed to make anyone sitting across from it feel smaller. He cleared his throat, slipping on a pair of thin-rimmed glasses, and looked at Gerard, not with disapproval, but with a kind of scrutiny. Like he was trying to read the boy before him without asking anything.

“So, Mr. Way,” he began, voice calm and deliberate, “have you been settling in well? How are your classes?”

Gerard shifted slightly, his fingers curling into the fabric of his uniform pants. “Um… they’ve been good. The professors are nice and…” he hesitated, then added, “I made a friend.”

The principal gave a soft hum, clearly noting every word. “That’s good to hear. Would this friend happen to be Mr. Iero?”

Gerard nodded once, unsure what tone to take. “Yes, sir.”

Another thoughtful pause. The man’s expression didn’t change, still measured, still unreadable, but there was something a little softer around his eyes. “You know, I had a reason for pairing you two together. It wasn’t just because Frank’s room had been vacant for a while.”

Gerard stayed quiet, unsure whether he was meant to respond or not.

“Frank’s had… some disciplinary issues,” the principal continued. “I imagine you’ve noticed that.”

Gerard nodded again, more hesitantly this time.

“You seem like a thoughtful kid, Gerard. Your records are impressive, and your teachers speak highly of you. So I thought, perhaps, your presence might have a grounding effect on Frank. A balancing force, if you will.”

He didn’t say it unkindly. In fact, it almost sounded like he admired both of them in different ways. But Gerard still didn’t quite understand why he was sitting here when Frank was the one outside looking like he’d been in a bar fight.

The principal seemed to read his silence. “You’re probably wondering why I called you in.”

“I am, sir.”

The older man leaned forward slightly, folding his hands on the desk. “There’s going to be a consequence for what happened today. I’ll let Mr. Iero explain the details to you himself, when he’s ready. But as for now, I’ve decided he’ll spend the next week cleaning the back chapel during his free periods.”

Gerard blinked, but said nothing.

“And,” the principal added, after a pause, “I’d like you to accompany him.”

Gerard’s brows rose, just a little. “Sir?”

“This isn’t a punishment for you, Mr. Way. Let’s be clear about that. But I don’t want Frank to go through this alone. He… he needs someone steady around him, I think he’ll respond better that way.”

There was a beat of silence between them, the ticking of a distant clock filling the space. Gerard nodded slowly, something nervous blooming in his chest. “Alright.”

Just as he stood to leave, a question tugged at him. “And the other boys? The ones who were in here earlier?”

The principal’s face darkened for a flicker of a moment. “They’ll be dealt with, Mr. Way. You don’t need to worry about that.”

The principal politely asked Gerard to send Frank in, and with a soft nod, he left the office. Out in the waiting area, the two boys locked eyes for the briefest moment.

As Frank passed him, he reached out without thinking, and gave Gerard’s wrist a firm, lingering squeeze. It wasn’t much, but it said thank you, and I’m okay, and please wait for me all in one silent motion. Then he was gone, slipping into the office and shutting the heavy door behind him.

Back in their dorm room, Gerard was a mess of nerves. He sat cross-legged on his bed, one leg bouncing erratically, gripping Frank’s worn-out stuffed bear in one hand. The thing still smelled faintly like Frank, like watermelon candy and cigarette smoke and something warm Gerard didn’t have the words for. He hoped Frank wouldn’t mind.

His mind wouldn’t stop racing. What happened? Why did Frank look so broken? Why would he get into a fight with his own so-called friends, and why now?

The door creaked open sooner than expected. Frank stepped in slowly, hunched slightly, and eyes downcast. His uniform was rumpled, sneakers barely tied, and the bruising on his face looked even worse under the yellow dorm light.

He kicked off his shoes, ran a hand through his tangled hair, and finally glanced up. “Why are you holding Mr. Snuggles?”

Gerard blinked. “What?”

Frank pointed weakly at the bear. “My bear.”

“Oh!” Gerard quickly looked down at his hand, like he hadn’t even noticed it was still there. “I… I’m sorry. He just looked lonely, I guess.”

There was a pause, then, a soft laugh. That perfect, raspy giggle that made Gerard feel like the air had been punched out of his lungs in the best way.

“I’m glad you took care of him while I was gone,” Frank said, smiling faintly as he turned toward the bathroom.

“Frank, wait–.”

He paused in the doorway, turning back. His face was rough, an angry red bruise darkening the left side, blood dried around his nostrils, and a thin cut above his eyebrow. Even hurt, even like this, Gerard couldn’t help but think he looked beautiful. Tired, raw, vulnerable, but beautiful.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Gerard asked softly, voice trembling at the edges.

Frank sighed, head tilting down just slightly. “Yeah. I will. But… Do you mind if I shower first? I really don’t want you to see me like this.”

There was something shy in the way he said it, ashamed and just... worn out. Gerard nodded, standing quickly. “Wait! go sit on the counter. I think I have something in my bag that can help.”

Frank hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah, just go.”

Frank gave him a little smile and disappeared into the bathroom, already tugging at the knot of his tie as he went. A moment later, Gerard followed, a small box of medical supplies tucked under one arm.

Frank was perched on the counter when Gerard stepped in, legs casually spread, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. The room smelled faintly like cigarettes and soap.

“Mind if I take this off?” Frank asked, tugging at the collar stained with blood. “Kinda ruined it.”

Gerard opened his mouth, then shut it, then finally managed to shake his head. “No. I mean, go ahead.”

Without a second thought, Frank slipped the shirt off, his pale skin catching the light in soft, curved shadows. He wasn’t sculpted, not athletic in a conventional way, but Gerard thought he looked perfect. Real. Tangible. Beautiful in a way that made his stomach twist in knots. He tried not to stare, he really did.

But then his eyes landed on the small star tattoo inked into Frank’s upper arm, almost hidden in the crook of his bicep. Without thinking, Gerard lifted his hand toward it, drawn in by something he couldn’t name. But just as his fingertips were about to brush the ink, Frank gently pulled his arm away.

Gerard flinched. “Shit sorry. I shouldn’t have–”

Frank shook his head, smiling softly. “No, it’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

The silence that followed was almost warm. Frank extended his arm slowly, letting it hang in the space between them. The little star tattoo stood out now, faint but dark against his pale skin. “Got it with a friend like… a year ago,” he said, his voice casual but fond. “It cost, like, fifteen bucks. Wanted to look cool.” He laughed under his breath, amused, but a little embarrassed. “It doesn’t really mean anything. Just… something dumb I did.”

Gerard smiled, leaning in closer as he pulled out a cotton swab soaked with antiseptic. He started gently dabbing at the bruise blooming along Frank’s cheekbone. “Well, I think you do look cool,” he said softly.

Frank didn’t answer, not with words, but something shifted in his expression. He would never admit it, but the moment Gerard said that, his chest gave a traitorous little skip.

They stayed like that for a while, tucked into the warmth of the small bathroom, Gerard bent in close, Frank blinking up at him with the occasional wince whenever the antiseptic stung against his skin. Every so often, Gerard would murmur a quiet “sorry,” and Frank would shake his head, trying to play it cool, even though every careful touch made his pulse stutter.

“Do you think it’ll take long for the bruises to fade?”

Gerard examined the damage, tilting his head slightly. “It’s pretty bad,” he said honestly, moving to the purpling edge of the bruise near Frank’s brow. “Maybe… three weeks, give or take?”

“Three weeks?” Frank groaned dramatically, tipping his head back. “God. I look like I lost a bar fight. I’m never leaving this room again.”

He laughed at himself, but it was a shy sort of laugh, too aware of the truth behind the joke. There was something vulnerable under it, something that said he hated being seen like this. Without really thinking, Gerard reached up and gently cupped Frank’s chin, turning his face slightly so he could clean a small cut on his cheek. His hand was warm and steady, even if he was nervous as fuck about touching Frank.

“I think you look really fucking cool,” Gerard said, barely above a whisper.

Frank’s breath caught just a little in his throat, and the air thickened between them. Neither of them moved.

After Gerard slipped out of the bathroom to give Frank some privacy, he found himself pacing. Sitting. Standing. Pacing again. The soft thrum of the running water behind the door gave him too much time to think and overthink.

What had happened? Who hurt Frank? And why? He remembered what the principal had said, that Frank would open up when he was ready. Gerard wanted to respect that. He really did. But god, he was dying to know. Everyone seemed to know except him, and it gnawed at his chest like a dull ache. All he wanted was to understand what was happening inside Frank’s head, inside his heart.

When Frank finally stepped out of the bathroom, his damp hair falling in soft curls over his forehead, dressed in old, cozy clothes that looked a size too big, Gerard’s heart thudded stupidly in his chest. He looked… huggable. All Gerard wanted to do was crawl into his arms, tangle their legs together, kiss every bruise, and never let him out of his sight.

And then Frank spoke. “They were making fun of you.”

Gerard blinked, abruptly jolted out of his daydream. “I—what?”

“Those assholes,” Frank said, his voice sharper now, edged with ranger. “Behind the cafeteria. I heard them talking about you. Calling you names. Slurs. Just… being disgusting.” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly sheepish. “I kind of… lost it. I mean, it pissed me off so bad I couldn’t help myself. I was the one who threw the first punch. The problem is, there were four of them. One of me. So now I look like this and my nose hasn’t stopped bleeding since second period.”

Silence stretched between them. Gerard’s breath caught. “You got into a fight… because of me?”

Frank looked at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Well… yeah.”

He said it so casually, like getting punched in the face was no big deal if it meant defending Gerard’s name. Like he would’ve done it again. Like he would always do it again. And Gerard didn’t know what to do with that.

Without thinking, without planning it, Gerard stood and crossed the room. His arms wrapped around Frank in a sudden, instinctive hug, tight and full of things he didn’t know how to say. His face buried against Frank’s shoulder, the cotton of his shirt still warm from the shower.

Frank froze in surprise, but only for a second. Then one of his hands came up, ruffling Gerard’s damp hair with a kind of amused tenderness. “Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured. “On the plus side, now we get to clean up a chapel that hasn’t seen human life in like… six months. So, fun activity?”

Gerard laughed softly against his neck, a dreamy sigh slipping out before he could catch it. He didn’t care that Frank was shorter, he fit perfectly in his arms anyway. He breathed him in, finally close enough to catch the soft scent of his soap, clean cotton, and just a hint of something just Frank. He remembered, not for the first time, how on his first day here, he wondered what Frank’s cologne might smell like. Now he knew. And now he never wanted to forget.

The next afternoon, Gerard and Frank made their way to the far-off, barely-functioning chapel the school had all but forgotten. Their uniforms were pristine, crisp blazers, polished buttons, shirts tucked in exactly how the dress code demanded. Except for Frank’s shoes, of course. The same beaten-up black Converse he always wore, the soles almost flapping from use, caked in little flecks of dried mud.

He caught Gerard eyeing them and shrugged. “You know I’d rather die than wear those stiff-ass loafers.” Gerard smiled back at him. He already knew.

Frank shoved his hands into his pockets as they walked, his voice soft. “Sorry you got roped into this, man. I didn’t think they’d pull you in too.”

Gerard shrugged, brushing it off. He didn’t tell Frank what the principal had said about not wanting him to feel alone, that he’d asked Gerard to go as a quiet gesture of care. He kept that part folded up somewhere private, tucked behind his ribs like a secret he wasn’t ready to unwrap.

“I don’t mind,” Gerard said eventually. “Wasn’t doing anything else anyway.”

But the silence that followed had weight. And Gerard, ever the overthinker, let the question slip before he could stop himself.

“What did they say?” he asked. “The guys you fought. What were they saying about me?”

Frank was quiet for a second too long. Then, with his eyes cast off to the side, he answered, “It was… pretty bad. I don’t really wanna repeat it.”

Gerard let out a humorless chuckle. “Let me guess: faggot. And whatever other synonyms they could come up with.”

Frank clicked his tongue. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

They didn’t speak after that, but the silence wasn’t heavy this time, it just was, like they both understood the moment didn't need any more words.

When they reached the chapel, the heavy wooden doors stood slightly ajar, groaning faintly when Gerard pushed them open the rest of the way. Inside, dust floated like ghosts in the streaks of sunlight cutting through stained glass, illuminating the pews in muted reds and blues. A few cleaning supplies had been dumped near the altar, some old brooms, almost empty bottles of polish, and a pair of yellow plastic gloves that had definitely seen better days.

Frank sighed dramatically and peeled off his blazer, already rolling his sleeves up. He picked up the gloves and snapped them onto his hands.

“You look like someone’s weird church janitor,” Gerard snorted.

Frank spun around. “What? Stop laughing at me, go get your own gloves, loser.”

There was no heat in his voice, though. Gerard laughed again and shook his head, stepping toward the supplies. Frank nudged his leg gently with the toe of his sneaker, just enough to make him stumble slightly.

They started by gathering the brittle leaves scattered across the chapel’s dusty stone floor, their laughter echoing in the otherwise empty space. Gerard swept in long, graceful arcs, while Frank complained every five minutes about his “ancient, creaking back.”

“Oh my god,” he groaned dramatically, leaning on the broom like a walking stick. “I’m too hot for manual labor.”

“You’re just too lazy,” Gerard shot back, grinning.

Eventually, they filled several old buckets with water, and naturally, didn’t get through a single one without a splash war. Frank flicked soapy water toward Gerard, and before long, Gerard’s neatly combed hair was soaked, dripping over his forehead in wet strands. Frank looked at him, eyes bright, cigarette nearly falling from behind his ear. “You look like a wet dog.”

Gerard burst into laughter, brushing wet hair out of his eyes. “That’s rich, coming from the guy wearing dish gloves with a black eye.”

They worked like that for hours, their rhythm growing easier with every shared joke and quiet moment. The chapel slowly began to resemble something more sacred and less abandoned, but there was still a long way to go. The pews stretched endlessly, and they both realized why this punishment was designed to last a full week instead of just one long day.

Eventually, they collapsed onto one of the wooden pews, their clothes damp, hands sore, and backs aching. Gerard sat upright, still looking oddly composed despite everything. Frank, in contrast, sprawled beside him, one knee pulled up, slouching comfortably as he pulled out the cigarette from behind his ear.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to smoke inside a church,” Gerard said, raising an eyebrow.

“You aren’t.” Frank shrugged, lighting up anyway. “Sorry, I didn’t even ask if it bothers you.”

Gerard shook his head softly, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “It doesn’t.”

Frank exhaled slowly. “Thank God. I’ve been dying.”

The smoke curled up toward the ceiling, fading into the stained glass light above them. And just like they always did, they talked. First about everything and nothing, Frank excitedly rambling about a new band he’d discovered, Gerard gushing about a new Batman comic with an alternate timeline twist he couldn’t wait to read. Somehow, between jokes and shared favorites, the conversation turned heavier. It seemed to always do that when it came to them.

“Do you ever feel guilty?” Gerard asked suddenly, quietly.

Frank paused mid-drag, glancing over. “Guilty about what?”

“Not being what people expect you to be.”

Frank laughed, a bitter amusement slipping between his teeth. “Every single fucking day of my life.” They both went quiet.

After a moment, Frank flicked ash onto the floor. “Man… being in a Catholic school really brings out the religious guilt in all of us.”

Gerard let out a soft laugh. “Tell me about it.”

Frank stood, brushing off his pants. “Let’s save the rest for tomorrow.”

Gerard groaned, flopping back dramatically onto the pew. “I’ll die before this chapel is clean.”

Frank offered a hand back, smiling. “Then we’ll haunt it together.”

And with that, they left, backs sore, hands raw, hearts a little fuller than before.

The next day brought them back to the chapel, unsurprisingly, cleaning again. For once, they were actually working rather than just turning buckets into makeshift instruments or trying to make each other laugh.

Frank took on the gruesome task of scraping ancient gum off the undersides of pews with a butter knife and grimace. Meanwhile, Gerard knelt at the front of the chapel, carefully polishing the carved wood and marble of the altar.

Above him, the stained glass depiction of Christ loomed, arms outstretched and eyes cast downward. Gerard stared up at it for far too long, gaze pinned to the mournful expression in the glass. Something about it felt too close, like he was being watched.

He swallowed. His throat was dry. His skin crawled, hot beneath his collar, and he shifted uncomfortably, his fingers tightening around the cloth in his hand. That familiar old guilt crept up his spine, cold and shameful.

He didn’t notice Frank approaching until he felt two warm hands rest on his shoulders. Gerard startled slightly, his eyes snapping away from the glass.

“Hey,” Frank said, voice soft, like he didn’t want to scare him. “I just finished scraping like… a hundred years of gum from under the seats."

Gerard blinked, the tension in his chest breaking just a little.

“Wanna grab something to eat before our evening class? I’m starving.”

Gerard nodded automatically, his mind still lost in that glass reflection. He didn’t really hear the question, just the warmth in Frank’s voice pulling him out of the haze.

Frank narrowed his eyes slightly. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah. Why do you ask?”

“You just…” Frank hesitated, searching his face. “You looked kind of spooked out. Like, haunted vibes. Do you wanna talk about it?”

Gerard’s lips parted, but no words came out. What was he even supposed to say? That looking at a stained glass window made his whole chest hurt? That he still felt like he was being judged by a God he wasn’t even sure he believed in?

He shook his head lightly, murmuring, “No. I’m okay. Just… thinking.”

Frank didn’t push. He never did, and Gerard loved him for it. He just gave a little shrug, then reached down and took Gerard by the wrist instinctively. Their new thing.

“Come on,” he said, tugging him toward the door. “Let’s get out of here. You look like you need food and five minutes away from Jesus.”

Gerard let out a quiet laugh, the tension in his chest loosening. He didn’t say thank you out loud, though Frank already knew.

And as they stepped out into the fresh air, Gerard didn’t even look back at the chapel. He was too focused on the warmth of Frank’s hand around his wrist, the sound of their footsteps echoing in sync, and the sense that, for now, he wasn’t alone in the weight of it all.

The next day, like clockwork, found them once again in the chapel. Surprise, surprise, cleaning duty still had them in its holy clutches. This time, they were stationed side by side at one of the stained-glass windows, gently wiping away decades of dust with rags and diluted vinegar. The soft squeak of their cloths on the glass filled the space between them. Occasionally, their arms brushed when they reached too far without looking, but neither of them pulled away.

They worked like that in silence for a while, until Gerard broke it. “What’s the most bullshit thing about religion for you? Like, something you learned here.”

Frank chuckled immediately, as if he’d been waiting for a question like this. “Oh man, that’s hard. There’s so much to choose from.” He tilted his head, pretending to think. “Probably the whole virginity thing. Like, Jesus cares whether or not you’ve had sex? That always felt... so invasive.”

Gerard laughed, nodding. “Yeah, that’s a good one.” But his mouth didn’t stop there. His curiosity had teeth. “Are you a virgin?”

Frank answered easily, casually, “Nah.”

It hit Gerard like a small slap to the ego. He felt something coil in his stomach, tight and ugly and unfamiliar. He hated it.

Then Frank looked at him expectantly. “And you?”

Shit. Gerard hesitated. He could lie, it wouldn’t be hard. Say something vague, something cool. But instead, he cleared his throat and admitted, softly, “Yeah. I am.”

Frank noticed the way Gerard’s shoulders pulled in slightly, his defensive instinct kicking in. So, in true Frank fashion, he tried to lighten the moment.

“Well, to be fair,” he said, smirking, “I lost mine to this girl like two years ago, barely knew her. Came super fast and she never talked to me again. I should probably still be a virgin. Might’ve saved us both some time.”

That earned a real laugh out of Gerard, bright and almost surprised. Frank always knew exactly what to say to dissolve the tension like sugar in warm tea. They kept cleaning, arms brushing a little more intentionally now.

And then, after a pause, Gerard added, quietly, “I haven’t even had my first kiss.”

Frank turned toward him, blinking. “Seriously?”

Gerard nodded, slightly embarrassed, wiping at a smudge that didn’t really exist. Frank didn’t tease or laugh, instead, he smiled, softer this time. “That’s kinda sweet.”

Gerard raised an eyebrow. “Sweet?”

“Yeah,” Frank shrugged. “Means when it happens, it’ll mean something.”

Gerard wasn’t sure if his chest hurt or if it was just the stained-glass light warming his face. But he smiled too, looking down at his rag and muttering, “I hope so.”

After a beat, Gerard’s voice dipped, barely louder than a breath. “I think I’m just nervous I won’t know what to do. I kind of missed the whole first kiss train when I was younger… and now it feels like everyone else has it figured out, and I’m still stuck at the station.”

Frank turned his head, one eyebrow raised, something unreadable behind his soft smirk. “Do you want me to show you?”

Gerard nearly knocked his forehead against the stained-glass window. Show him? Like, show show?

“What?”

“You know. Just for practice,” Frank replied casually, like this was the most normal thing to offer your emotionally repressed dorm roommate. “Then when you actually kiss someone you really like, you’ll have some experience under your belt. I wouldn’t say I’m an expert, but... I’ve gotten some decent reviews.”

Gerard let out a short laugh. “Oh, so you’re a certified kisser now, Mr. Iero?”

Frank smirked, unbothered. “Well, I’m not running a course or anything, but I’d say I know my way around a kiss or two… Mr. Way.”

Gerard was on the verge of spontaneous combustion. His crush, his infuriating, funny, impossibly confusing crush, was literally offering to kiss him. In a chapel. Beneath the disapproving stare of half the Holy Family.

They sat down on the wooden bench below one of the larger stained-glass windows. Above them, a glowing depiction of Mary cradling baby Jesus cast soft hues of rose and gold between their shoulders.

Frank scratched the back of his neck, the nerves suddenly catching up to his confidence. “Okay, um… I’m not exactly a kissing coach or whatever, but I guess I’ll just show you? I’ve never kissed a guy before, so I’m not totally sure where my hands are supposed to go.”

Gerard smiled despite the butterflies wrecking his insides. “Where do your hands usually go when you kiss girls?”

Frank shrugged, all innocent-like. “On their tits.”

Gerard choked. “Oh!”

They both burst into laughter, their giggles echoing through the dusty chapel air, bouncing off the pews and ancient stone.

“I’m pretty sure the principal would have a stroke if he knew we were holding Kissing 101 in here,” Gerard said through his grin.

Frank snorted. “Yeah, pretty sure we’re one holy water away from exorcism.” Their laughter softened together.

Frank turned toward him again, eyes steady but kind. “So… do you want to? You can say no.”

Gerard took a deep breath, trying to steady the storm inside his chest. He gave a small nod, barely perceptible, but enough. Across from him, Frank exhaled too, a slow, shaky breath, and that alone made Gerard feel a little less alone in his nerves.

Then, ever so gently, Frank reached up and cupped Gerard’s cheek. His hand was warm despite the chill lingering in the chapel air. Their faces hovered close, breath mingling in the quiet, reverent stillness. And then, without any warning at all, Frank closed the last sliver of distance between them.

The kiss was soft. Almost painfully soft.

Frank tasted like cigarettes and watermelon candy, the kind they always stole from the convenience store down the street, and the cold glide of his lip ring against Gerard’s mouth made the moment feel strangely electric. It wasn’t messy or rushed, just two boys trying their best to figure each other out with careful mouths and cautious hearts.

Their lips moved with hesitance, never straying beyond the safe territory of a first kiss. Just the brush of lips and the warmth of breath. Still, Gerard felt like the earth had shifted.

Eventually, Frank pulled back, but not before placing one last delicate kiss near the corner of Gerard’s mouth, a punctuation mark to something he couldn’t quite name. Gerard stayed still, his eyes fluttered shut, unsure of how to exist now that he knew what Frank’s lips felt like on his. And then he felt it, fingers gently tucking a strand of his dark hair behind his ear. The softest coaxing. Gerard opened his eyes.

“So… how was it?” Frank asked, voice quiet and edged with a tiny grin. “Not too bad for a first kiss?”

Gerard’s laugh was timid, but genuine. “It was… nice.”

Frank smiled, clearly pleased. “I’m glad.”

But of course… of course, their stolen moment didn’t end in the quiet of that chapel. Later, back in the dorm, they each lay on their separate beds, doing their best to pretend things were still normal. Gerard had his notebook open in his lap, doodling nothing in particular. Frank was tossing a stress ball in the air and catching it, bored. Then came the voice from across the room.

“So…” Frank said, far too casually. “Do you wanna learn how to kiss with tongue?”

Gerard felt like he couldn’t breathe, Frank, right here, breathing just inches away, making his heart pound out of his chest. His lungs clenched.

Frank leaned in, smirking. “You know… kissing. With… tongue involved.”

Gerard shot upright. “I know what it is!”

Frank laughed, a soft, teasing rumble. “Then why do you sound so confused?”

Gerard’s cheeks heated. “Do you just want to kiss me again?”

Frank’s eyes glinted. “I’m literally asking.”

Gerard melted. It hit him like gravity.

“So… do you… want to? Come here.” He gestured with a playful wave, offering the bravado of a provocateur. Gerard shuffled over like he was under hypnosis, knees pulled in, heart in his throat, climbing onto the edge of Frank’s bed.

Frank mirrored him, legs crossed, body relaxed, but his hands trembled slightly with eagerness. Then he stuck out his tongue in a teasing preview and moaned playfully. Gerard giggled, swatting at him with a mock jab. “Ew, don’t be gross.”

Frank grinned, leaning closer. “I know you don’t think I’m gross.”

Gerard finally met his gaze. “I really don’t.”

Frank smiled wider. “Not even when I wear the same underwear two days in a row?”

Gerard giggled again, heat spreading all the way down. “Not even then.”

Frank’s smile softened into something fond, so fond. Gerard caught a flash of vulnerability, and damn, even his teeth were cute.

“My teeth are cute?” Frank asked, incredulous.

Gerard blushed furiously. “Did I just say that out loud?”

Frank laughed, head dropping back in amusement. “Yes, you did.”

Gerard looked away and rolled his eyes. “I thought you were going to kiss me.”

Frank crept closer. “Oh, someone’s eager?”

Gerard stood, heat racing all over his body. “I’m going back to bed.”

But Frank didn’t let him go, his hand rested gently on Gerard’s neck, thumb brushing across the flushed skin of his cheek. “I promised you a kiss, didn’t I?”

That was it, no more room to panic. They came together, slow and tentative at first, but there was intention behind that kiss. It was sweeter, richer, and more urgent than before. Gerard could literally feel it in his bones, electric and real.

Frank’s tongue slipped inside Gerard’s parted lips, hot and exploratory. Gerard responded instinctively, opening to meet him. It was messy, gentle, and so right. Frank guided the kiss with a practiced confidence, Gerard melted like wax. His own hands floated, unsure of where to place them, but Frank gently captured one. It fit like destiny, small warmth against his palm. Minutes later, they finally pulled away, need pressing and beautiful. The air felt thick around them.

“Not bad for a newbie,” Frank teased, lips brushing Gerard’s ear.

Gerard buried his face in his hands, too red to see. “Shut up.”

Frank’s voice was quiet, low. “I like kissing you. You do it so… innocently. Like it’s all new.”

Gerard lifted his face, voice small. “I really don’t know what I’m doing.”

Frank closed the space between them with a light peck. “It’s cute.”

They sat in silence, each breath bringing them closer. Then Frank’s nerves taxed him. “We… should probably sleep.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll stay… in my bed.”

“And I’ll…” Gerard hesitated. “I’ll go to mine.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight?”

“Night.”

The lights clicked off. A tense stillness. Later, Gerard wondered quietly if he heard Frank stumble around the bathroom in the middle of the night. He didn’t ask. And Frank didn’t mention it. Because sometimes sleeping apart feels closer than lying together.

On their last day of chapel clean, they really did want to stay focused on their task. But when they least expected it, both boys stumbled to the church’s bathroom, invading one of the stalls and locking it behind them, as if someone would actually come looking for them in this remote place.

The kiss was urgent, hands tugging at hair, muffled breaths and soft hums filling the cramped space between them. Their uniforms were already half-worn, as if neither of them cared about the idea of appearance anymore. They kissed with an unspoken desire, teeth brushing, their lips hungry for more. Frank pulled Gerard closer by the waist, his movements almost instinctive, desperate to stick one of his legs between Gerard’s own, but still, he was careful, always careful, never wanting to cross any lines.

“I can’t stop thinking about kissing you, Gee…” Frank whispered, voice low and filled with something Gerard couldn’t quite place. “What have you done to me?”

Gerard couldn’t respond. All he could focus on was the heat between them, the taste of Frank’s lips lingering, his body too aware of the way Frank's proximity made his heart race. The words were stuck in his throat, the realization of everything that was happening sinking in slowly. And the tightness in his slacks more prominent than ever.

To say that Frank was confused would be an understatement. For as long as he could remember, he had always believed he was attracted to... girls. That was the extent of it. He kissed them, and he supposed he enjoyed the sweet taste of lip gloss on their lips and the floral scent of their shampoo. He liked boobs… or whatever. Every time he jerked off was to porn magazines that his friends sneaked around the school gates. It was all so clear to him, until now.

But everything with Gerard was… different. He felt alive in ways that confused him, torn between exhilaration and guilt, a mess of emotions he wasn’t prepared for, mostly horniness, but something more. He couldn’t stop kissing him, though. It had become a pattern. They’d get back to the dorm after class, exchange a few fleeting kisses here and there, sometimes gentle, sometimes with more urgency. God, it was maddening.

So Frank did what he always did when everything felt too much: he called his mom, seeking the comfort he knew only she could offer.

The school had designated public telephones scattered around the campus. Frank, hands shoved deep in his pockets, made his way to one of the booths in the far corner of the school grounds. It was a quieter part of campus, away from the usual noise of chattering students. The faint hum of distant conversations mixed with the low, comforting sounds of a school that was, for the moment, calm. Frank had hoped that some of the peace would settle in his chest as well, but it didn’t.

He lit a cigarette, and the sharp bite of smoke was oddly grounding as he stepped into the cramped phone booth, the glass slightly fogged and streaked with fingerprints. His palms were clammy, his chest tight with nerves. Frank closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm his racing heart. After a few seconds, he pulled out the crumpled piece of paper with his mom’s number on it and dialed.

It only rang three times before she picked up.

“Mom?”

“Oh, Frankie, hey baby, how are you?” Her voice was warm and familiar, wrapping around him like a soft blanket, making the weight of his confusion a little easier to carry.

He didn’t need to put on a mask when he talked to her. With his mom, Frank didn’t have to be the “cool guy” he often pretended to be. This was his mom, the person who knew him better than anyone else, who had seen him through everything, even his worst days.

They started with the usual check-ins, school, his grades, how things were going at the dorm. She scolded him gently about his growing list of detentions, but there was something light in the way they spoke. It wasn’t until Frank felt a wave of emotion settle heavily in his chest that he knew he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Mom… can I talk to you about something private?”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, a rustling sound, and then her voice softened, a little more concerned. “Of course, Frankie. What’s going on?”

He could already feel the lump forming in his throat, the words that had been trapped inside now fighting to be released. “I made a new friend. And… I’m confused about how I feel.” His heart skipped a beat as soon as the words left his mouth. They sounded so simple, but they carried so much weight to him.

His mom’s voice was quiet for a moment, as though she was carefully considering what he had just said. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know… He feels… special, I guess,” Frank said, his voice uncertain, even to himself. “More than the others. But I’m not sure if that’s normal, or… if I should feel this way.”

“Are you two close?” she asked, her voice gentle but probing, trying to understand the full picture.

“Yeah, we’ve been sharing a room and everything, but that’s not really it. It’s more than that. It’s… complicated.” Frank felt himself twist the phone cord in his hands, as if it could somehow give him the right answers.

She was quiet again, and Frank’s heart hammered in his chest. “Then what is it, baby?” she asked after a moment, her voice tender and patient.

Frank took a deep breath, forcing the words out despite the tightness in his throat. “I feel… different things when I’m with him. Things I’ve only felt when I was with girls before, but this time it’s... different. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s confusing.”

He could hear the careful silence on the other end, and he almost thought she might not answer. But then she spoke, her voice steady and full of understanding. “And how does he feel about it?”

Frank laughed softly, though there was no humor in it. “I don’t know. He’s just… himself around me. He doesn’t seem to care about anything.”

“Does he treat you well?” His mom’s voice softened even further, a quiet reassurance in her tone.

Frank smiled, his chest feeling lighter just thinking about it. “Yes. Way better than I’ve treated him.”

There was a brief pause, and then Frank could hear the faintest hint of a smile in her voice. “Then hold on to it, Frankie. You deserve to feel that way. If he makes you feel good, then that’s all that matters.”

It was like a weight had been lifted from Frank’s shoulders. The confusion, the tightness in his chest, it was still there, but now it didn’t feel as heavy. His mom’s words gave him a strange sense of clarity, as though he was allowed to feel what he felt without judgment.

“Thanks, Mom,” he whispered, his throat suddenly feeling tight with emotion. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear those words until she said them.

After they said their goodbyes and hung up, Frank stood there for a moment, staring at the phone in his hand. It felt almost surreal that the world hadn’t stopped, that his life hadn’t fallen apart because of these confusing feelings. But somehow, hearing his mom’s voice had made it all seem a little less scary.

He left the booth, his steps lighter, the weight of his confusion replaced by a strange sense of clarity. He found himself walking back to the dorm with a skip in his step, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

When he opened the door to their room, he saw Gerard still sprawled out in his bed, his hair a mess and the blankets tangled around him like he’d been wrestling them in his sleep. Frank’s heart fluttered a little at the sight, Gerard, so peaceful, so unaware of the storm of emotions Frank had just sorted through.

Gerard’s eyes fluttered open, squinting in the dim light as Frank closed the door behind him. “Where were you?” he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.

Frank smiled down at him, the familiar warmth of their dynamic soothing the edges of his anxiety. “I was just talking to my mom…”

Without thinking, he leaned down and pressed a light kiss to Gerard’s forehead, almost lingering, a simple gesture of affection. Gerard, still groggy, giggled and threw the blankets over himself as if pretending to be embarrassed. Frank couldn’t help the giddy feeling bubbling up inside him, the way Gerard’s reaction made everything feel a little lighter, a little easier. And for the first time in days, Frank didn’t feel quite so lost.

That afternoon, they finally had the whole day to themselves. With the chapel cleaning behind them, Frank and Gerard spent the late hours lounging in the grand garden near the main church, sharing watermelon candies like they always did. The sun was warm, the sky wide and scattered with soft clouds, and both boys lay sprawled on the grass, shoulders brushing gently as they stared up, trading quiet commentary about the shapes drifting overhead.

They laughed, told stories, some dumb, some a little too honest, and Gerard felt a subtle comfort settle in his chest. Being with Frank outside their shared room, out in the open like this, made him feel seen. It was rare for him to feel chosen, but right now, that’s exactly what it felt like.

Frank was halfway through telling one of the dirtiest jokes Gerard had ever heard when a group of boys approached from across the lawn. Gerard stiffened instantly. He recognized some of them, guys who had been part of that fight with Frank not too long ago, and though they were still on school grounds, a cold unease crept in. The group came right up to them.

“Yo, Frank!” one of the boys, blonde and loud, called out. Frank sat up slowly, expression unreadable, and Gerard followed suit.

“Hey, what’s up?” Frank replied. His tone was polite enough, but there was something clipped beneath it, like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Sorry about the fight the other day. We’re cool, yeah?” the blonde added.

Frank didn’t answer right away. He just gave a quick nod. When the boys lingered awkwardly, he added, “Do you need something, dude?”

“Yeah, there’s a party tonight, just a couple blocks from here. You coming?”

Before Frank could respond, another one of the boys jumped in. “Jennie’s gonna be there. She asked about you, probably wants a repeat of last time.”

The group erupted in laughter, jostling Frank’s shoulder like it was some sort of victory. Gerard’s gaze dropped to the grass, his fingers pulling at the blades unconsciously. His chest tightened.

Frank barely reacted. He knew these guys, he’d hung out with them before. And yeah, Jennie was a sweet girl. They’d hooked up a while ago, but it had never meant anything to him. It was just something he did because, at the time, it felt like what he was supposed to do.

The voices around him faded into background noise. His eyes drifted to Gerard, still silent beside him. He couldn’t read his expression. The other boy was completely still, eyes cast downward, lips pressed together like he was holding something back.

“I don’t think I’ll go,” Frank said finally. “I’ve got a bunch of homework to catch up on.”

“Seriously?” one of them asked, clearly unconvinced. “Jennie’s into you, man! You’re gonna pass that up?”

“I’ll think about it, alright?”

With that, the group slowly peeled away, laughing among themselves as they disappeared back across the garden. Frank let out a long sigh, his posture slumped, the weight of the interaction already dragging at him. He glanced at Gerard again, searching for something in his eyes, but Gerard was still looking at the ground.

Frank reached out gently, his fingers brushing the nape of Gerard’s neck, playing with the dark strands there in an instinctive comfort.

“Are you going?” Gerard asked, his voice low.

“I don’t know… probably not.”

“Do you like her?”

“Jennie?” Frank paused. “She’s… nice, I guess.”

Gerard hummed in response, but the sound was distant, unreadable. Frank’s stomach twisted. Everything he said felt wrong. He wanted to reach out, say the right thing, do something, anything, to make this moment less awkward. He wanted to grab Gerard by the face and kiss him in front of everyone, to make it clear who he actually wanted. But something in him still hesitated.

“You should go practice kissing with her, then,” Gerard said, suddenly, voice dry with humorless sarcasm. “Maybe even something else.”

He stood up abruptly, brushing grass from his pants. Frank blinked in surprise.

“Gee, wait–”

But Gerard was already walking away, quickly, trying to hide whatever he was feeling behind brisk steps. Frank started to reach for him, but Gerard pulled back.

“It’s not like we’re dating or anything,” Gerard snapped, eyes narrowed. “You can do whatever you want.”

Frank’s chest ached. He knew Gerard was jealous, of course he was. And as childish as it might seem, Frank knew he would’ve reacted the same way if the roles were reversed. He wanted Gerard to himself. He was just too afraid to admit it out loud.

“Yeah, we’re not dating,” Frank said quietly, “so why are you acting like this?”

Gerard turned sharply, eyes glinting with frustration. “As if you don’t fucking know.”

And then he was gone, storming off, leaving Frank standing alone in the grass with the fading warmth of their shared moment and a sinking pit in his stomach. He didn’t chase after him. Not this time. They both needed to cool down, and the last thing Frank wanted was to make things worse. Still, as he stood there, the silence around him felt a little too loud, and the ache in his chest a little too real.

Gerard spent the remainder of the afternoon tucked away in the quiet sanctuary of the library, intentionally avoiding Frank and seeking refuge in his own quiet thoughts. He idly filled the corners of his notebook with some doodles, cartoony faces and floating shapes, his mind far too distracted to focus on anything substantial. He struck up a soft conversation with the warm-hearted librarian, an elderly lady who always remembered his name and asked about his sketching. She shared stories about the new cat she had recently adopted, her voice light and kind. Gerard listened with a smile, grateful for her gentle presence.

When the sun began to dip lower in the sky and the library neared closing time, he realized he had no excuse to stay any longer. He reluctantly packed up his things and made his way back to the dorm, unsure of what he’d find waiting. As he pushed the door open and found the room empty, a breath of relief escaped him. A small part of him had hoped to see Frank, but the larger part, the part still bruised, was grateful for the solitude. He needed space to think, to feel.

Meanwhile, mere two blocks away, Frank stood frozen outside a stranger’s house, the address scrawled in crooked handwriting on a torn scrap of notebook paper. He stared at the door for what felt like an eternity, debating whether or not he should even be there. Every part of him screamed to turn around, to go back, to forget the night entirely, but before he could move, the door creaked open.

Jennie stood there, her smile bright and eyes a little too glazed to hide her tipsiness. She smoothed down her hair nervously, clearly surprised, but pleased to see him.

“Frankie! Hi!” she greeted, voice slightly slurred.

“Hey, Jennie,” he replied with a half-hearted smile, trying to summon warmth he wasn’t feeling. “It’s been a while. How’ve you been?”

She didn’t bother answering, just tugged him gently by the wrist, promising to grab him a drink. Frank stepped inside hesitantly, immediately hit by a wave of loud music and even louder energy. The bass pulsed beneath his feet. The room spun with unfamiliar faces, plastic cups, and loud conversation.

He stood awkwardly near the doorway, surrounded by people he vaguely recognized but didn’t feel close to. Their small talk felt dry and mechanical to Frank. He laughed at the right times and nodded when expected, but inside, he felt completely hollow, like a shell of the version of himself that had been sprawled out on the grass next to Gerard just hours earlier.

Later, the group inevitably spiraled into a game of Truth or Dare. Frank was dragged into the circle, against his better judgment, but played along. For a while, he went unnoticed, spared by the spinning bottle. People kissed, swapped embarrassing stories, and threw back shots with loud whoops. It was all fine, until the bottle landed on Jennie.

Someone dared her to pick a partner and spend seven minutes in the closet. She didn’t hesitate. She pointed at Frank.

The group burst into teasing laughter and approving cheers, and Frank’s stomach dropped. He couldn’t say no. Not without humiliating her. So he swallowed his discomfort, took her hand gently in his, and followed the room’s directions to the small linen closet down the hall.

The door closed behind them. Darkness. Muffled bass. Warm air and the faint smell of old wood. They stood close, too close, and Jennie leaned in, her hand still in his. She kissed his cheek, clearly waiting for him to close the space between them. But Frank didn’t. He stood still.

And when her hand started to wander, inching toward something that made his whole body tense, he gently caught it and took a step back, giving her space in the tight quarters.

“Sorry, Jennie. I… I can’t.”

Jennie paused. Then, softly: “I knew it.”

Her words struck a nerve, sharp and unexpected.

“Knew what?” Frank asked, his voice barely above a whisper, the words catching like barbed wire in his throat. Did everyone knew he was gay but him?

“You’ve got a thing for Lisa, right? Ugh, I always noticed the way you looked at her…”

Frank blinked. His brows furrowed in confusion. Lisa? Who on earth was Lisa? The name stirred nothing in his memory except maybe a vague image of someone who might’ve lent him a pencil once during a mass. The thought made him chuckle under his breath.

Jennie, however, did not find that funny. She shot him a sharp look, one that could slice paper. Oh no. Now he’d dragged her into a closet, turned down a kiss, and laughed in her face. Incredible work, Frank.

“To be honest with you, Jen,” he said, trying to salvage what was left of the moment, “I do have a thing for someone…”

Her expression instantly shifted, eyes downcast, shoulders drawing in. Frank’s stomach dropped, he felt like a monster. And just like that, standing in a literal closet, he figured it was probably as good a time as any to step out of a metaphorical one.

“And… it’s a boy.”

“Oh!” Her voice pitched up in surprise. And, thankfully, not the horrified kind. Actually, she sounded… relieved? Not because she was thrilled that Frank had just come out to her, but probably more so because he wasn’t crushing on one of her friends.

“Yeah…” Frank nodded slowly, now awkwardly aware of how anticlimactic coming out in a dark party closet was. The adrenaline had vanished, and now he was left fumbling for words in the most emotionally exposed moment of his life.

“That’s great!” Jennie beamed.

Frank gave her another squinty-eyed look, like he was still waiting for the punchline. “You think so?”

“Of course! Tell me about him…” She sat down cross-legged on the floor and patted the spot beside her, like they were about to braid each other’s hair and unpack years of secrets. Frank hesitated for a second, then joined her on the floor, his heart still racing, but a little lighter now.

“Well… he’s a really good friend,” Frank began, his voice soft, hesitant. “I like his jokes… and the way his hair looks when he’s just out of the shower.” He paused, letting out a sigh so wistful it could’ve floated away. “I like when he rambles about his nerdy interests like I totally understand them. And how he actually laughs at my terrible jokes, like really laughs. I like how sweet he is, and attentive, and kind of awkward in this… adorable way.” He groaned and buried his face in his hands. “What the hell am I going to do?”

Jennie placed a hand on his thigh. “Okay. But… have you told him any of this?”

Frank shook his head, hands still glued to his face. Jennie exhaled dramatically, her fingers now tracing small circles over the denim of his jeans.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” She asked.

Frank shrugged, his voice muffled. “I don’t know. Lately, every time I try to fix things between us, I end up making them worse. It’s like I open my mouth and he gets sad. I don’t even know if he likes me back…”

Jennie made a face. “Ugh. Boys.”

Frank blinked, pulling his hands away. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re all dumb,” she said, grinning. “Just tell him how you feel. If he doesn’t like you back, then he’s clearly blind and hopeless. I mean, I wanted to kiss you tonight, and now here I am being your crisis counselor.”

Frank laughed, grateful for how she somehow managed to make everything feel less awkward. “Sorry for ruining your night,” he said sheepishly.

Jennie rolled her eyes. “Oh, you couldn’t. To be honest, I think I’d rather have this heart-to-heart with you than make out behind a stack of coats at a party full of people I don’t like that much.”

Frank smiled, his shoulders relaxing. “Yeah… that's fair.”

Jennie tilted her head. “So? Where is loverboy now?”

Frank’s lips curled into a smile just at the thought. “Probably in our dorm, reading comics or doodling something weird. He wants to be a comic book artist, you know?”

Jennie’s smile softened into something more knowing. “Okay, don’t panic when I say this… but, Frank?” She leaned in slightly, voice gentle but firm. “You’re kind of in love with this guy. And I don’t even think you know it.” Frank’s mouth opened in quiet protest, but she stopped him with a playful smirk. “You should see the way your eyes light up. It’s gross. Cute, but gross.”

“Do you really think I should tell him?” Frank asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jennie gave him a look that was half sincerity, half sass. “This is gonna sound like a really bad MySpace quote, but… we only live once?”

Frank nodded slowly, trying to steady his breath, heart still pounding from the whole night. He glanced around the tiny, dimly lit closet and noticed a small, dusty window at the top of the room. A few beat-up boxes were piled beneath it, like a makeshift escape route.

“Jen,” he said, his tone suddenly more serious. “Can I trust you with this? Like, really trust you? No one knows about it except my mom, and even then, only because she’s dangerously good at skeptical guessing. So… can you keep this a secret?”

Jennie didn’t hesitate. “Of course. Frank, don’t worry. This is just between us. Total vault.”

He let out a breath of relief, almost laughing now. “I can’t exactly give you that kiss, but… I really need a hug right now.”

Jennie chuckled, already opening her arms. “Come here, you little soft emo boy in love.”

Frank scoffed, blushing as he moved into her embrace. “You’re actually so annoying.”

She didn't respond, just wrapped him in a hug that lingered just a second longer than necessary. After a beat, Jennie pulled back and looked up at the tiny window.

“Okay,” she said, clapping her hands once like a plan had just formed, “I really don’t want to do the classic walk-of-shame out of this closet in front of half the party crowd. So, how about we crawl out through that little window over there and pretend none of this ever happened?”

Frank raised an eyebrow. “You mean never speak of it again?”

“Exactly.”

“Deal.”

Frank went out first, hoisting himself up through the tiny window with a bit more noise than he intended. Once he was out, he turned and offered Jennie a hand, helping her balance in her skirt and tiny heels. She gave him a grateful look as he caught her on the other side.

Like the accidental gentleman he sometimes was, Frank insisted on walking her home. The streets were quiet, and it was already late. As they walked, he felt lighter, her words still replaying in his mind.

When they reached her place, she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Go tell him, Frankie. Or at least go look at him like a kicked puppy until he figures it out himself.”

Frank laughed under his breath and nodded, then made his way back toward the school. The gates were already closed, of course. With a dramatic sigh, he climbed them up like he'd done it a million times, praying none of the faculty were taking a late-night stroll.

The walk back to the dorm felt like the longest of Frank’s life. Every step echoed in his ears. His palms were clammy, his legs weirdly wobbly, and was his hair doing that awful sticking-up thing again? He ran a hand through it anxiously. Great. He was about to pour his heart out and looked like he’d been attacked by a bear. Still, he pushed forward.

When he finally reached the door to their shared room, he opened it cautiosly. The hinges gave a tiny creak, but the room inside was silent. Empty. No Gerard at the desk, not in bed, unless he’d suddenly acquired invisibility, and not even hiding in the bathroom.

Frank stood in the doorway, confused for a second. Then it hit him. He didn’t know where Gerard was, but he had a feeling. A gut-punch sort of feeling. Of course.

Without thinking twice, Frank turned on his heel and started making his way across campus again, his nerves playing in his stomach. It was fully nighttime now, the grounds dipped in shadow and too much quiet. The moon wasn’t exactly doing its job of lighting the way, and the occasional rustle from some nocturnal creature didn’t help calm his nerves.

When the isolated chapel finally came into view, it looked almost haunted in the dark. The stained glass windows, usually vibrant and comforting during the day, now stared down like silent judges. A cool breeze kicked up as Frank stepped closer, and he instinctively wrapped his arms around himself. Not because he was cold, but because something about this felt bigger than him. Bigger than everything else.

Like he was about to walk into a confessional booth, except the only sin was maybe being completely in love with his best friend. And maybe he was finally ready to admit it out loud.

Frank hesitated at the heavy wooden door, his hand resting lightly on its worn surface as he eased it open with the utmost care. Inside, the church was dimly lit by the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the stained glass. There, in the vast silence, sat Gerard, alone, facing the altar, his back turned to Frank. He was quietly gazing up at the towering cross suspended in the center of the sanctuary.

Not wanting to startle him, Frank moved softly across the aisle, each step barely a whisper against the stone floor. Gerard’s voice was low and barely audible, a tender murmur that Frank guessed must be a prayer. The sight struck him unexpectedly, Gerard holding the small, worn photograph of him and his brother together in one hand and a rosary in the other, his fingers delicately tracing the beads as tears silently welled in his eyes.

Frank had never known this side of Gerard, this quietly devout part of him that carried such vulnerability. Watching him now, seated amidst the shadows and light, his heart swelled with a tender fondness he could hardly put into words. He longed to close the distance, to wrap his arms around Gerard, to hold him close and finally confess everything that had been tangled up inside for so long. In that sacred stillness, Frank realized just how deeply he cared, and how much he wanted to be there for him, everytime possible and for whatever reason.

When Gerard finished praying, he delicately wiped away the tears pooling at his eyes, carefully pocketing the small photograph while still clutching the rosary in his hand. Frank figured this was the moment, now or never. He stood up, took a steadying breath, and called out softly with his favorite nickname, trying his best not to startle the taller boy.

“Frankie...” Gerard turned around, his cheeks still damp and his eyes wide with surprise.

For a heartbeat, they stood facing each other in a delicate standoff, both clearly on guard. Gerard was the first to break the silence. “How much did you hear?”

Frank shook his head quickly. “Nothing. Didn’t want to intrude.”

Gerard nodded slowly, grateful for the respect. But then the silence settled back in like an awkward guest refusing to leave, until Gerard finally asked, “So... how was the party?”

Frank hesitated, then confessed, “Actually, I need to talk to you about something else.”

Well, that was it. Gerard’s mind raced, bracing for the worst. Surely, Frank was about to reveal he’d fallen for the girl he’d slept with at the party, meaning the end of their friendship, their room-sharing arrangement, and any casual conversation. Because, let’s be honest, how could you still hang out with someone after passionately locking lips with them in the bathroom of this very chapel?

But then, instead of stepping back, Frank closed the distance, and to Gerard’s shock, dropped to his knees right in front of him. The gesture was so unexpected that “surprised” felt like an understatement. Frank took a deep breath and reached out for Gerard’s hands. Gerard, though a bit awkward with the rosary beads in his palm, met the gesture willingly and allowed Frank to hold both his hands.

“Gee, I… honestly have no idea how to say this. I didn’t rehearse, and I’m basically just rambling whatever comes to mind. But… I’m in love with you. I don’t know when it started, I just know I’ve never felt this way before, not with anyone. And you… you fucking drive me crazy every time you talk about action figures, or when you come out of the shower with your wet hair and those rosy cheeks from the heat, and…”

Frank’s confession was cut short when lips pressed gently but urgently to his. Gerard’s eyes were closed, but Frank’s remained wide open, as if he were trying to memorize every second of the moment.

The kiss was perfect, even with void of a dramatic tongue. The beads of the rosary pressed softly against Frank’s cheek, grounding the moment in holiness. He melted into the kiss, tilting his head just so, deepening the exchange between them.

His knees were beginning to protest from the unforgiving wooden floor, but there was nowhere else he’d rather be. Gerard crouched down to meet him halfway, their tongues finally mingling, sharing the familiar taste of each other. Smiles tugged at their lips, breaking through the intensity, all beneath the watchful gaze of the holy cross above.

They shifted into open-mouthed kisses, content to share the soft exchange of breath and warmth, completely unbothered by how messy or flushed they probably looked. Frank noticed that Gerard’s fresh tears had managed to kiss his cheeks, too, simply from how close they were. He responded by pulling the other boy in tighter, arms snug around his waist, despite the slightly uncomfortable angle they were in.

When they finally pulled apart, it felt like they’d been underwater and just surfaced for air. Frank cupped Gerard’s face gently, thumbs brushing away any lingering tears from his damp cheeks, it made Gerard’s heart clench.

“Frankie,” Gerard whispered, voice trembling, “do you mean this? Please don’t mess with my feelings. I… I’ve been in love with you since the first moment we met.”

Frank swore something inside his chest exploded. It felt like he’d been punched and kissed and hugged and knocked breathless all at once. God, if only he hadn’t been such a chaotic little disaster, maybe they could’ve been here sooner.

Speechless, because apparently every word in the English language had just abandoned him, Frank leaned forward instead. He slid a hand behind Gerard’s neck and tugged him back in, sealing his answer with another kiss, because sometimes, feelings say more when your lips do the talking.

Eventually, after their pulses calmed and their knees stopped wobbling, the two boys made their way to one of the old wooden chairs nearby. Still buzzing from everything that had just happened, they sat side by side, fingers laced together, whispering quiet confessions into the cool air.

Gerard spoke first, eyes down and cheeks pink. “You’ve always been the coolest guy in the world to me. I get nervous just hearing your voice.”

Frank grinned like an idiot. “And you’ve always been the sweetest, nerdiest, prettiest boy I’ve ever met."

They giggled and blushed their way through more soft touches, little pecks to cheeks, foreheads, noses, anywhere their affection could reach. But eventually, surrounded by dozens of saints and judgmental stained glass eyes, they figured it was probably time to return to the privacy of their dorm. The saints were lovely, sure, but not the most subtle third wheels.

The walk back to their room was quiet, the night air crisp and still. They held hands the entire way, guiding each other carefully through the dark, occasionally stumbling over tree roots or uneven patches of grass because neither of them could see a damn thing.

They laughed like the teenagers they were, young, giddy, and full of too many feelings all at once. Frank cracked jokes about how they’d definitely be expelled if anyone found out what just happened, and Gerard snorted with laughter before reminding him that maybe confessing in the middle of a chapel wasn’t their most subtle move.

They kissed behind a few trees on the way because, well, Frank couldn’t help himself. He was overflowing. It felt like if he didn’t keep kissing Gerard, he might actually combust.

The darkness of their dorm room welcomed them like an old friend, mercifully empty. As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, they kissed again. Not with urgency, but with the soft thrill of finally kissing without fear or questions, with all their messy feelings now fully out in the open.

Frank, ever the gentleman, kept his hands respectfully stationed at Gerard’s waist, firm but careful, never daring to stray. Meanwhile, Gerard stood a little stiffly, clearly flustered and unsure of where his hands were even allowed to go. Eventually, he panicked in the most adorable way possible and settled for gently holding onto the back of Frank’s neck, as if the boy might disappear otherwise.

Frank, heart swelling, couldn't help but grin mid-kiss. “You can touch me, you know,” he mumbled softly against Gerard’s lips.

The comment earned him a huffed laugh and a bit of newfound courage. Gerard, cheeks pink but determined, finally threaded his fingers into Frank’s dark, slightly unruly hair, the very same hair he’d spent way too many nights imagining himself touching. He ran his hands through it with reverence, as if ticking something off a secret bucket list.

Frank practically melted on the spot, exhaling a contented sigh into the space between their mouths. He’d never known being felt by someone who meant something to him could make his heart feel this full.

They smiled at each other with a warmth that said more than words ever could, eyes bright with something between awe and amusement. Frank was the first to lean in, gently pressing their foreheads together in a silent plea for closeness. Gerard, now growing more confident in the quiet intimacy, brought his hands to explore Frank’s back with new assurance. His touch was still careful, but more certain than before, fingers tracing the curve of his shoulder blades, and gently skimming the dip of his spine, as though learning a map he'd always wanted to know by heart.

Eventually, when the clock threatened to roll well past midnight, the unspoken agreement to get some sleep finally surfaced. Both boys headed to their closets on opposite sides of the room to change for bed.

Frank, ever at ease in his skin, began undressing on the spot, his shirt was off in seconds, tossed somewhere on his bed, and his worn jeans followed soon after, replaced by a pair of baggy shorts and a faded band tee. Gerard, on the other hand, remained rooted to the floor, still fully dressed in his slightly wrinkled uniform, looking somewhere between flustered and hypnotized.

Frank noticed and raised an eyebrow, amused. “You gonna change or just stand there looking at me?”

Gerard stammered, desperately trying to keep his eyes anywhere but on Frank’s now mostly bare legs. “I uh, well… not with you watching me like that!”

Frank burst out laughing and threw his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll turn around, princess.”

True to his word, he spun around dramatically, facing the wall while grinning to himself. From behind, he could hear the faint rustle of fabric and Gerard muttering something unintelligible as he finally stepped out of his clothes, cheeks hot but smiling all the same.

They lay in their separate twin beds, facing one another across the short distance of the room. Their conversation was easy, full of soft laughter and drowsy smiles. Neither of them seemed eager to end the night, even as sleep loomed and the clock ticked silently on.

Frank found himself growing restless, not because of the conversation, but because, frankly, the space between them felt way too big. He wanted to close it. He just wasn’t sure if they’d reached that level yet.

As Gerard told him a funny story about a classmate who got stuck in a fence (don’t ask), Frank debated internally whether to pop the question, the real question. Physical affection was something he craved more than he liked to admit. He wasn’t the type to shy away from closeness, in fact, he was a certified cuddle enthusiast. And after everything that had happened between them that day, being close to Gerard just felt right and kind of necessary.

“Hey, um…” Frank started, already regretting how awkward he sounded. “I don’t wanna come off as weird or anything, but... how do you feel about sharing a bed?”

In the darkness, Gerard’s cheeks went full cherry red, grateful Frank couldn’t see how flustered he suddenly was. He fumbled for a reply, nervously laughing as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I-I’ve never, you know... shared a bed before. Unless you count my brother when we were, like, six.”

Frank smiled at that. It was cute, of course Gerard hadn’t. Meanwhile, Frank was a big cuddler. If he’d ever hooked up with someone, he was 100% the guy who stayed after, tucked in and playing with their hair. And sure, maybe he and Gerard weren’t quite at that level yet. But the night was cold, the emotions were raw, and the idea of falling asleep next to Gerard felt way more comforting than weird. It felt... safe.

“You wanna try?” Frank offered gently, lifting his blanket in an invitation. “Promise I don’t kick. Much.”

Gerard stood hesitantly, his pajama pants comically bunched at the ankles and his movements more robot than human. But despite his nerves, he made his way over and slipped into Frank’s bed, lying stiffly on his back.

Frank chuckled quietly at the way Gerard seemed to turn into a mannequin the second he got under the blankets. “Okay, that’s way too awkward,” he said with a grin. “Here, come lay on my chest.”

Gerard didn’t even protest. With a shy sort of surrender, he shifted closer, resting his head on Frank’s chest. One of his arms found its way around Frank’s waist, unsure but sincere. Their legs tangled together naturally beneath the duvet, warm and safe.

“It’s nice,” Frank said after a beat, his fingers gently threading through Gerard’s hair. “Being close like this.”

Gerard hummed softly in response, trying not to focus too hard on the way his heart was pounding like a marching band in his chest. Instead, he let himself melt into the moment, into the comfort of Frank’s touch and the warmth of his chest.

Of course Frank could feel the thud-thud-thud of Gerard’s heart drumming nervously against his own chest. It was impossible to miss. Still, he chose not to mention it, partly out of kindness, but also to avoid sending Gerard scrambling out of bed and possibly out the window. Instead, he simply snuggled in closer, hoping the physical closeness would eventually settle the boy.

To help ease the tension, he gently took Gerard’s free hand in his own, their fingers intertwining naturally. Frank began tracing small, idle shapes on the back of Gerard’s hand with his thumb, circles, figure-eights, hearts, whatever came to mind, hoping the soft contact might help distract the taller boy from the stampede happening inside his ribcage.

Wanting to give them both a distraction, he nudged the silence away with a soft question. “I didn’t know you were religious…”

Gerard hesitated for a moment, then gave a quiet, slightly embarrassed laugh. “Oh… I’m actually not. It’s more like a coping mechanism. You know, for when things get really bad.”

Frank hummed in understanding, sensing there was more beneath the surface.

Gerard continued, his voice gentler now. “That photo of me and my brother… there’s a prayer written on the back. My grandma wrote it for me before I left. She told me to repeat it whenever things got hard, said someone up there would be listening.”

Frank felt something heavy settle in his chest, guilt creeping in. “I have a feeling I might’ve been one of the reasons you needed that prayer.”

“Well, yeah… but it’s oka—”

“No, Gee,” Frank interrupted softly, squeezing his hand. “It’s not okay. I’m really sorry. For everything. For making things confusing, for not being honest. I was figuring stuff out too, but I know I hurt you in the process, and that’s on me. I just… I hope you can forgive me.”

Gerard was quiet for a moment before responding with a wry chuckle. “Frankie, when I figured out I was gay, I cried for like… six months straight. You freaking out for a couple days barely even counts.”

Frank let out a surprised laugh, relief washing through him like a warm tide. “Guess that makes me a quick learner, huh?”

“A disaster of a quick learner,” Gerard corrected, smiling against Frank’s collarbone. “But yeah.”

That night, they drifted off to sleep wrapped in each other’s arms, Gerard’s face nestled into the crook of Frank’s neck, drawn in by the oddly comforting blend of aftershave, cigarette smoke, and lingering watermelon candy. Gerard's heart knew it was safe.

By morning, things had... shifted. Quite literally.

When Gerard blinked awake to the soft blue light of dawn, he realized their positions had flipped entirely. Now it was Frank who was clinging to him as if he hadn’t experienced physical affection in years, arms draped around Gerard’s torso, one leg thrown across his waist, and his entire body splayed across the mattress like an affectionate starfish.

Gerard couldn’t help but smile. He already knew Frank was a chaotic sleeper, but there was something ridiculously endearing about the way he’d ended up draped over him. It meant he felt safe. But, of course, this sweet moment came with a catch. A very hard one.

At first, Gerard assumed the awkward pressure against his hip was Frank’s stuffed bear, which occasionally made surprise cameos in his bed. But when the realization hit that this definitely wasn’t a plush toy... Gerard's soul briefly left his body.

Oh God. He froze.

Not that he wasn’t aware this kind of thing happens, he was a boy too, after all, but why now, when Frank was pressed up against him like that? The panic set in almost instantly. Sweat beaded at his temples. Frank had a morning class soon. He’d have to wake him up. And Gerard was going to have to do it without passing out from awkwardness or screaming into a pillow.

He started gently: a few cautious strokes over Frank’s back, a light graze of his fingers over the nape of his neck, a whispered “Frankie…” near his ear. The boy didn’t budge. Gerard sighed. Of course, he’d fallen for the one person in this universe who could sleep through the apocalypse.

After several minutes of coaxing, Frank finally stirred with a sleepy groan, eyebrows furrowed and one eye squinting open. He looked impossibly soft in the morning light, hair a wild mess, lip ring glinting, and just the tiniest dried bit of drool trailing down from the corner of his mouth. Gerard, tragically and helplessly in love, reached out and wiped it away with his thumb before his brain could stop him.

“Mornin’,” Frank mumbled, his voice raspy and low, Gerard nearly flatlined on the spot.

Thankfully, Frank remained blissfully unaware of his situation, pressing a sleepy kiss to Gerard’s cheek before mumbling “bathroom” and padding toward the door, closing it softly behind him.

Left alone, Gerard flopped back onto the bed with a groan, staring at the ceiling as the sound of running water filled the silence. He tried very hard not to think about what Frank looked like right now, messy hair, warm skin, sleepy smile. Unfortunately, Gerard’s imagination was faster than his willpower.

Gerard did his best to ignore the rather... hard situation currently happening beneath the blanket and between his legs. It wasn’t like he could just reach down and take care of it while Frank was in the bathroom only a few feet away. That would definitely cross a line, several lines, actually.

To be fair, arousal had always been a somewhat tricky topic for Gerard. His teenage years had been an ongoing tug-of-war with his own body, not helped by the period he’d spent on antidepressants that, among many things, turned his libido into a distant memory. He used to joke that the pills didn’t just dull his feelings, they depressed his dick too.

Thankfully, he’d been off his medication for a while now, and although things were starting to work again in that department, random morning surprises like this were still rare enough to catch him off guard. Not quite the standard 18-year-old hormonal chaos, but close enough to ruin a peaceful morning cuddle session.

A few minutes later, Frank emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered, dressed in his uniform, and looking maddeningly adorable with damp hair pushed back and his usual sleepy smirk still lingering. He walked over to where Gerard was now awkwardly seated on the bed, strategically shielding his lap with Frank’s pillow, and flopped down beside him without hesitation.

“Sorry you had to witness that,” Frank chuckled, stretching his arms above his head. “I’m a total wreck in the mornings.”

Gerard, still clinging to the pillow, could only offer a tight-lipped nod, his internal monologue on loop: Don’t ask me about the pillow. Don’t ask me about the pillow. Please, for the love of God, don’t—

“Hey, why do you have my pillow on your lap?”

“Uh… it’s just comfortable,” Gerard replied, voice higher than usual and eyes looking anywhere but Frank’s face.

Frank didn’t question it further, thankfully accepting the excuse without a second thought. He leaned in to press a quick kiss to Gerard’s lips before hopping up and slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Wanna get lunch together after class?” he asked casually. Gerard nodded wordlessly, still very much trapped in his own private purgatory.

As the door shut behind Frank, Gerard let out a long, slow exhale. He felt, quite sincerely, like Sisyphus, if the boulder had been swapped out for a very persistent teenage crush and the hill was just surviving day after day.

Eventually, Gerard relinquished his death grip on the pillow as he cautiously assessed the situation in his pants, mentally calculating the last time he'd had to deal with this particular type of crisis. It had been a while.

Which then led, as most dangerous thought spirals do, to a new and absolutely unhelpful line of questioning: When does Frank deal with this? They practically spent every waking moment together. Shared a room, shared routines, shared everything short of a toothbrush. And yet, not once had Gerard heard... suspicious noises. (Well, okay, there was that one night, but they don’t really talk about that night.)

Regardless, Gerard was currently thanking every divine being he'd ever read about in a theology class for the small mercy of not having a morning lecture. With a quiet groan he padded into the bathroom, subtly adjusting himself in his pants like a criminal or something.

He swore he tried not to think about it. About him. About the way Frank had curled into him like he belonged there, about the warmth of his dick casually pressing against his side, doing scandalous things to his entire nervous system.

But after five minutes (okay, maybe six), Gerard found himself leaning against the sink, red-faced and breathless, Frank’s name slipping past his lips like a whispered confession. A prayer, really. One meant only for him, and, unfortunately, whatever celestial being was on bathroom duty that day.

Following what could only be described as an eventful morning, Gerard made a valiant attempt to focus on his studies. He was supposed to be concentrating on physics, something about gravitational forces and trajectories, but instead, the only thing pulling his attention with any force was the growing ache in his sweatpants. Once again, his body was betraying him. And unfortunately, the subject of his very specific distraction was currently in biology class, blissfully unaware.

Gerard groaned internally. He briefly considered smacking himself across the face, or maybe delivering a stern internal lecture about discipline and self-control. But none of that mattered, because his libido was clearly the one in charge today.

With no other choice, he threw himself under the coldest shower he could manage, so cold, in fact, that his soul briefly left his body, and his most delicate anatomy practically vanished into the void. But it worked. Barely. And once he felt relatively human again, he cleaned himself up and got ready to meet Frank in the cafeteria, desperately trying to act like he wasn’t losing his mind every five minutes.

Later that evening, they were back in their dorm. The lights were low, the room warm and quiet. Frank was perched at his desk, hunched over a cluster of chemistry notes, preparing for an upcoming final. Meanwhile, Gerard sat on his bed, textbook forgotten in his lap, having officially lost the battle against the sight of Frank’s back and the soft strands of hair curling around his ear.

His thoughts spiraled, again, and this time, without thinking, his mouth betrayed him.

“Frank…” he said, quietly. A warning shot.

Frank hummed in response, distracted but listening.

Gerard paused, deeply aware of how incredibly weird he was about to sound. Still, the question slipped out before he could catch it: “When do you, uh… you know… jerk off?”

There was a beat of stunned silence. Frank slowly turned around in his chair, an amused eyebrow raised and a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I’m sorry,” he said, barely containing his smile. “Did you just ask me when I– what?”

“Please don’t make me repeat it,” Gerard muttered, already feeling the heat rise to his ears.

“Oh, I absolutely will make you repeat it,” Frank replied, eyes glinting.

Gerard groaned and buried himself deeper into the safe haven of his textbook. “You know what? Let’s just pretend that never happened. I’ve got way too much to catch up on regarding…” He glanced at the title of his current page. “...the Industrial Revolution. Yes.”

He began rereading the same sentence for the fifth time, only half absorbing it, painfully aware of Frank’s amused gaze burning a hole into the side of his face.

“Look,” Frank began casually, leaning back in his chair like he was negotiating something. “If you need, like, privacy from time to time, I can totally disappear for two, maybe three minutes? However long it takes for you to, you know…” He made a vague but unmistakable gesture with his hand. “Take care of business.”

Gerard blinked at him, horrified. “You’re an idiot.”

“You love it.”

“Not right now, I don’t.”

Frank grinned like the devil himself. “Well, since we’re being honest, and you brought it up, by the way, if you’re really curious about when I enjoy a bit of quality alone time as a perfectly healthy young man… I don’t know. In the shower? Sometimes in bed, until someone moved in and ruined my sacred nightly routine.”

Gerard tried to maintain composure. Okay, so that was normal. Maybe he could figure out how to cohabitate with this chaotic little menace after all.

“It’s not like I plan it,” Frank continued breezily. “It’s just, oh hey, a boner.”

Gerard looked at him with something between horror and curiosity.

“But seriously,” Frank said, tilting his head with a soft smile, “Don’t you do that stuff too?”

Gerard squirmed slightly. Frank always had a talent for flipping the interrogation tables. Still, it was a fair question.

“Touchy subject,” he replied carefully.

Frank let out a low whistle. “Ooh. How touchy are we talking?”

“Touchy like… I might need a little time to open up about it,” Gerard admitted.

To his credit, Frank’s teasing faded, and his smile turned warm, almost protective. “Hey, don’t stress about it. We don’t have to do anything, but please talk to me about whatever you want, okay? You can trust me.”

Gerard managed a shy smile. “Thanks, Frankie.”

And just like that, the air between them settled again, Frank returning to his notes with focus, and Gerard pretending he was too, while his brain frantically spiraled down a rabbit hole of feelings and questions he never thought he’d be asking his roommate.

That night, they found themselves lying together again. It was starting to feel like something that might settle into routine, a rhythm only they understood. Gerard didn’t mind it one bit.

There was something oddly perfect about talking while wrapped in Frank’s arms. It made everything easier. The weight in his chest lightened. The words came out smoother. He felt seen, as if whatever heavy, unfiltered thought he offered would be accepted and treasured by the sweet boy tangled up with him without any kind of judgement.

As silence passed, full of warmth and unsaid things, Gerard quietly asked, “What are we?”

It was a question that used to make Frank want to evaporate from panic before. But now, hearing it from Gerard, it didn’t cause anxiety, it just made his heart skip a beat in a delightful kind of way.

“I’m whatever you want me to be,” he replied with a small smile, meaning every word.

Gerard reached up and cupped Frank’s cheek, fingers brushing gently over the faint scruff on his pale skin. They locked eyes, letting the moment stretch out between them like a thread they were both holding onto, afraid to let go. Frank leaned into the touch, nuzzling into Gerard’s palm, and pressed a soft kiss into the center of it.

“I really like you, Gee,” he said, voice soft, sincere.

“I like you too, Frankie.”

With that, Frank settled down again, his head finding its place on Gerard’s stomach, looking up at him with wide, puppy-like eyes. Their hands remained intertwined, thumbs tracing slow patterns against each other’s skin.

“I hope you like being like this with me,” Frank murmured, almost bashful. “And I hope you don’t mind that I’m kind of a mess sometimes.”

Gerard let out a soft laugh, brushing a strand of Frank’s hair away from his forehead. “I don’t mind it one bit.” Frank carefully guided one of Gerard’s hands to his hair, silently pleading for head scratches until he fell asleep. And of course Gerard wouldn’t refuse it.

They woke up much the same way they had the morning before: wrapped around each other like tangled headphones, with no real sense of where one ended and the other began, and it felt so good. Gerard blinked his eyes open, the early light making soft shadows across Frank’s face, and yep, there it was again: that now-familiar ache between his legs. He honestly hadn’t expected any less, not after a night spent that close to the person who made his heart do backflips just by breathing.

What he didn’t expect, however, was to also feel Frank’s problem, his legs directly pressed up against his thigh, both of them apparently waking up with the same situation.

Carefully, trying not to disturb Frank too much, Gerard slid his free arm lower, gently pressing his hand over his pajama pants to relieve the uncomfortable pressure. A quiet sigh escaped him, a little relief, but not enough. He froze when he felt Frank subtly shifting, his hips moving just a little against him.

Then came the softest, sleepiest hum from Frank’s lips. Content. Dreamy. Completely unaware of the chaos he was causing. Gerard, wide awake and now internally panicking, stared at the ceiling and considered the very real possibility of cumming in his pants right then and there.

Still deep in sleep beside him, Frank shifted again, this time with a groggy, contented hum that left Gerard staring at the ceiling like it was about to grant him divine intervention. The sound was low, languid, and entirely too much for someone already teetering on the edge of self-control.

Gerard swore he had never been this horny in his entire life, not even during the mortifying moment of flipping through a porn magazine for the first time as a teenager and discovering a very unplanned male biology lesson on page seven.

He was frozen, caught between three equally unappealing decisions: keep pretending to be asleep and pray his body got the memo, wake Frank up and make a dignified exit to cool off alone, or... that ill-advised secret third option, let nature take its course and maybe see if mutual suffering could lead to mutual solutions.

And then, as if the universe had a twisted sense of humor, Frank shifted again, pressing closer, letting out another unconscious little sigh as his hips moved in a sleep-induced rhythm. Gerard’s sanity cracked.

He turned on his side, now face-to-face with the sight of Frank in full, unfiltered glory: his face buried in their shared pillow, dark hair sticking in ten directions, a noticeable trail of drool glistening at the corner of his mouth, skin shiny with sleep. Objectively? It was a mess. But to Gerard? Somehow still impossibly, devastatingly attractive. God help him.

So, Gerard decided, against his better judgment, to at least try something.

He began with a soft kiss to the corner of Frank’s mouth, choosing to ignore the small trail of drool like a man in love. There was simply no room for squeamishness when his heart was thudding like a war drum and his dick was straining for release.

Next came a gentle kiss to the tip of Frank’s nose, then one to the cheek that wasn’t currently smooshed into their shared pillow, and finally, a warm press of lips to his forehead.

Before Gerard fully realized what he was doing, his entire body had slowly, stealthily migrated until he was lying almost entirely on top of Frank, 90% commitment, 10% deniability. Not the most dignified position he'd ever been in… but definitely one of his favorites.

Frank stirred with a soft hum, slowly waking as he instinctively sought out Gerard’s warmth, nuzzling closer in the most endearing way. His eyes blinked open, heavy with sleep, and his hand reached up to find its favorite resting place, buried in Gerard’s hair.

“Mornin’, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep.

And that was it. No more subtlety, no more restraint, Gerard had officially reached his breaking point.

He leaned down and kissed him with an urgency that left no room for hesitation. Morning breath be damned, he wanted to swallow Frank. Said boy let out a surprised little yelp, caught off guard but doing his best to rally, focusing all his still-groggy energy into returning the kiss now being enthusiastically delivered by the very determined boy on top of him.

The kiss escalated quickly, heat blooming between them as their hands moved desperately, roaming across fabric, seeking comfort, connection, and the smallest sounds of approval muffled between them. Gerard strategically positioned himself on top of the shorter boy, their members now in almost complete contact together if it wasn’t for their articles of clothing.

They didn’t break the kiss, but Gerard started rutting against Frank in an almost desperate manner, as if he needed the other boy just to breathe, Gerard moved with desperation. Frank met his intensity with equal enthusiasm, god how good it felt to actually feel wanted.

Like two very horny boys, they kept it going for a while, searching for their pleasure together, though Gerard remained far too shy to meet Frank’s gaze directly, instead choosing to bury his face in the crook of Frank’s neck and nibble his lips in an effort to stifle any sound.

Frank was a bit more expressive but wisely kept his noises discreet and restrained, not really wanting to get a noise complaint from some noisy student that happened to be passing by.

Gerard was the first to come in his underwear, the sensation was so intense that Gerard shut his eyes tightly and held his breath before slumping over Frank. He felt utterly exhausted, barely able to move, only regaining his senses when he heard Frank giggling beneath him.

“You’re squishing me,” Frank complained.

Gerard wobbled as he sat up, the awkward situation in his pants now unmistakable thanks to the large, damp patch at the front. Frank laughed, without any malice.

“You made a mess, dude.”

Gerard covered his face with his hands. “Don’t call me dude when I’m sitting on your lap.”

Frank smiled softly, resting his hands gently on Gerard’s waist.

“You didn’t finish.” Gerard commented when he noticed Frank’s still pretty much hard member inside his sleeping shorts.

“It’s okay, it’ll go down in a bit.” He caressed Gerard’s sides. “Just give me another kiss, we have to get to class.”

Today they had class together, and calling Gerard restless would be a serious understatement. After their rather eventful and very fun (!) morning, Gerard excused himself to the bathroom to clean up the mess he made inside his briefs. They managed to arrive on time, but Gerard found it impossible to focus with Frank’s thigh brushing against his under the table the entire time.

It was probably the most innocent touch on the planet, literally just because the chairs were pushed too close, but the warmth of it was distracting. By the end of class, Frank had succumbed to sleep, his arms folded into a makeshift pillow as the teacher wrapped up the lesson.

“Mr. Way, could you please wake up Mr. Iero? This information will be on the test next month,” the teacher called.

Gerard shook Frank gently to wake him up, and he did. And Gerard very timidly thought to himself that he’d combust if the teacher knew Frank could not keep his eyes open because someone woke him up pretty early so they could rut against each other’s dicks until Gerard passed out from orgasming. Yeah. Just boyish things.

For the next few days, Gerard felt like a hormonal teenager all over again. He’d find himself popping a boner at the most inconvenient of times, whether it was during lunch, gym class, or even a quiet moment of prayer in the temple with just the whole school in it. Honestly, he wished he could send a very clear message to his balls to just calm the fuck down.

Frank kind of noticed it, but he didn’t say anything. He really was an angel in demon’s clothing. He teased Gerard from time to time, but he knew it was a sensitive topic for the taller boy, so he never crossed the line of just teasing to actually making him uncomfortable.

His words kept echoing in Gerard’s mind: “We don’t have to do anything.” But what if he did want to do something?

It started to be one of the only things in his mind. Sex. Sex with Frank specifically. It turned him on so bad, the mystery of it all just adding on to him being more curious and more horny and more desperate. What kind of sounds would he make? Would he talk him through it? Is he more quiet or talkative? Does he like it rough or soft? Or maybe a mixture of both?

He found himself curious about Frank’s body, he guessed it was normal. But catching a glimpse of Frank’s lower tummy, complete with a modestly shy happy trail, made Gerard bite his lip so hard he nearly drew blood.

One day, Gerard arrived at the dorm feeling utterly exasperated after surviving a sex ed class that spent most of its time insisting they should use condoms, and avoid sex altogether if they wanted Jesus to be proud of them. Meanwhile, Frank was sprawled across his bed, headphones in, absorbed in some fantasy novel Gerard didn't even know the name of.

“We need to talk,” Gerard announced.

Frank glanced up suspiciously, carefully removing his earphones. “Oh God, what did I do this time?”

Gerard threw up his hands in frustration. “You’re just… you.”

“Sorry, I’m not following.”

“You just look sexy all the time.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Frank’s mouth. “Sexy… me?” He pointed at himself, barely able to believe it.

“Yeah! You always look so cool and effortless with your smooth hair and lip piercing and ugh I… I know you always lift your shirt on purpose and I know you always wear those jeans way too low so you can like, show off to me that you’re sexy like oh! Look at me I’m Frank and I have pubes and now you all can see it ha ha I’m so hot.”

Frank had a front-row seat to Gerard’s adorable meltdown over just how hot he apparently was, and he was enjoying every second of it.

“Someone’s horny…” His tone was cocky.

Gerard groaned and Frank gently called him over to sit next to him on the bed.

“Okay, now that I know you find me the most irresistible man on the planet…”

“Didn’t exactly say that.”

“Let’s talk about it shall we?”

When they were already positioned comfortably on Frank’s bed, their usual cuddling spots secured, Frank initiated the conversation. We love a communicative couple, am I right?

“So, I did notice you’ve been a bit… restless the past few days. But since you told me it was kind of a sensitive topic for you I decided not to push it. So… would you like to actually talk about it now? You know I’m all ears.”

Gerard rolled his eyes affectionately. “Ugh, you’re so annoying sometimes. One day, I swear I’m going to explode your head with my bare hands.”

“Nice.”

They laughed and Gerard started. “I told you it was a weird subject for me not only because I’m well… a virgin, but also because I basically had no libido for like 3 to 4 years, and it’s still weird to me seeing my body actually react to this stuff.”

“Oh… were you on…”

“Yeah, antidepressants. For sure made my dick depressed.”

Frank gently ran his fingers through Gerard’s hair, a soft giggle escaping him as he encouraged, “Keep going. I’m listening.”

Gerard took a deep breath before continuing, “After I stopped taking them, things started to feel normal again. But I’ve never experienced anything like this before. It’s kind of embarrassing to admit, but... I’m seriously, ridiculously attracted to you. And apparently, my body decided it wants to broadcast that fact to the whole world.”

Frank smiled reassuringly. “Gee, I get it. Your body’s just doing its thing, totally normal. No shame in that. But what about your mind? What are you feeling? Do you actually want this?”

There was a pause, and Gerard’s voice softened. “Truth is... you’re the only thing I can think about all day.”

“Okay, now I’M hard, you can’t just say stuff like that!”

They laughed together for a bit before calming down again.

“We can take things slow, alright? Whatever you’re comfortable with, anything you actually want. Even if it’s just something to take the edge off before class, don’t ever hesitate to tell me what’s on your mind. Even if it feels like the most embarrassing thing in the world, I’m here for it. I don't mind.”

They sealed their little pact with a kiss, but before long, Frank pulled back with a mischievous grin. “So, what else do you think is absolutely super hot and sexy about me, huh?”

And for the next few days, Gerard was more relaxed. He did spend his fair share of longer showers and risky moments under the covers while Frank was in class, but knowing they were basically in this together was way more calming.

One day, Gerard decided he was ready. This was it, no more second-guessing. They were now walking down the street, hand in hand, doing their best to avoid any nosy classmates who might spot them, after all, their relationship was still somewhat a secret. Just a casual little stroll... to buy condoms. Truly, the definition of a walk in the park.

Gerard had never actually done this before. His entire knowledge of condoms came from paying attention in Biology class, and even then, it was more theoretical than practical. So to say he was nervous would be a laughable understatement. The cashier behind the counter was going to know. They’d look at him, look at the box, and immediately understand that he and Frank were about to be inside each other. Real, actual sex. Oh god he felt ill.

“Are you nervous?” Frank asked, peering at Gerard with a knowing smirk.

“No... why do you ask?” Gerard replied, a little too fast to be convincing.

“Because your hand is so fucking clammy."

Gerard’s eyes went wide, and he yanked his hand away like it had been caught committing a crime. “Oh my God,” he muttered, horrified.

Frank laughed, not unkindly, and reached for Gerard’s hand again, intertwining their fingers. “No, no, it’s cute, I promise. Just talk to me instead of spiraling.”

Gerard sighed, attempting to look casual and failing miserably. “How are you so calm? We’re about to go buy... you know...” He leaned closer like he was sharing state secrets. “Condoms.”

Frank had the audacity to grin. “Okay, you don’t have to whisper like it’s a slur.”

Gerard groaned. “This is literally the most embarrassing moment of my life.”

Frank chuckled and bumped their shoulders together. “Gee, come on. Everyone buys condoms. The cashier has probably sold a thousand today alone. I promise you, we are not special.”

“Yeah, but they’re going to know. Like, know-know. That we’re gonna... do stuff.”

“You say that like we’re gonna rob a bank,” Frank teased. “Trust me, they’re not going to ask for details.”

By the time they arrived at the convenience store, Gerard looked like he was mentally preparing for war. They slipped through the automatic doors, heads down, eyes front. Frank guided them toward the back of the store with ease, while Gerard followed like he was being marched to death.

Then they found it, the aisle labeled “Feminine Care & Miscellaneous,” which, for some reason only known to retail gods, was where the condoms were kept. The two boys stopped dead in the center, shoulders stiff, eyes scanning the wall of options like it was a puzzle they’d been given zero instructions for.

“Why are there so many kinds?” Gerard whispered, brows furrowing. “What dick size do you wear?”

Frank pondered. “Definitely not that one.” He pointed at the package showcasing a very muscular male torso with the words XXXL on the front and Gerard rolled his eyes. “Okay okay, serious business. What about... these?” He picked up a discreet black box labeled Classic.

Gerard squinted. “At least it’s not that flashy.”

Frank grinned. “Nothing but the best for our discreet, tasteful stroll of sin.”

“Why are you like this?”

“It’s a gift.”

As the boys finally made their way toward the checkout – after spending a solid fifteen minutes debating lube flavors before settling on the most boring, least risky “traditional” option – Gerard suddenly came to a halt, stiff as a board.

Frank stopped too. “Why did you freeze?”

Gerard’s voice dropped to a frantic whisper. “The woman at the register… that’s the librarian.”

Frank blinked. “What?”

“That’s the nice lady from the library that always talks to me about her cat– how don’t you know her???”

Frank shrugged. “Never been to the library.”

“What the fuck is she doing here, are they not paying her enough? Do you think she’s going to recognize us?”

“I mean, we’re not in uniform and, as I said, I don’t step foot in the library.”

“Yeah you uncultured man, but I do!!” Gerard panicked while whispering.

“Just stay behind me, play it cool… she’s old, probably half-blind, we’re good.”

Frank took the lead toward the checkout, forcing on a smile that somewhat exaggerated his lip ring. He cleared his throat and, in a panic, slapped a pack of mint gum onto the basket as if it might diffuse the situation.

The kind lady scanned their items. Frank exhaled, felt they were in the clear, when she paused, leaned over, and said with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes, “Someone’s getting lucky tonight, huh?”

Frank was sure this was not the type of customer service they preached in this store, but he could only awkwardly laugh and hope the woman didn’t notice Gerard hiding behind him like the Grim Reaper.

“Who’s the lucky lady?”

Frank hummed. “You know, just, a… girl… you know how they are.”

“Oh to be young again…” She finished up packing their sinful stuff and waved Frank bye, probably not even noticing the boy clinging onto Frank like an obsessive spirit. They sprinted out of the store, not looking back and dying of laughter at probably one of the most nerve-wracking experiences of their lives, Gerard was right, buying condoms was not for the weak.

“I think I aged like five years,” Frank replied. “Your librarian friend is wild.”

The unholy paper bag sat on their desk for a few days without being touched. Frank didn’t mind it, studied beside it like it was a long term friend. Gerard on the other hand, avoided it like Pandora’s box. He knew the last word was his, knew Frank wouldn’t do anything he wasn’t ready for or even try to force Gerard to do sexual stuff. But he needed to get over his fear of intimacy, not because of Frank, not because of their relationship, but because of him.

Of course, the intrusive thoughts didn’t just disappear. Gerard was still battling against them every morning, every sleepy-eyed afternoon shower, and, embarrassingly, during gym class. Especially during gym class. He never thought a high school soccer game could feel like slow, emotional torture, but here he was, flustered and sweating from the sidelines while not even playing.

Frank wasn’t exactly a jock, but he was irritatingly good at sports. Always picked early, always easy to cheer for. He had this ease about him, laughing with the other boys like he actually enjoyed the suffering of mandatory athletics. Gerard, meanwhile, had perfected the “I’m tragically ill” routine. Stomachache? Toothache? Backache? All valid. The coach had stopped asking questions weeks ago.

The silver lining, of course, was the view. Sitting on the bench gave Gerard an uninterrupted sightline to Frank: his hair messy and plastered to his forehead with sweat, cheeks flushed pink from exertion, those black shorts riding up in a way that should’ve been illegal. His legs? Distracting. The way his shirt clung to his back? Unforgivable. Gerard spent half the period pretending to look at the scoreboard, and the other half trying not to combust.

He braced his hands against the wooden bench, knuckles white, trying to remember how to breathe like a normal person. There was no way anyone else was struggling this much just because they thought their maybe-boyfriend looked like he walked off a vintage Calvin Klein ad.

As the whistle blew and the game wrapped up, Frank jogged toward him with that bright, post-exercise glow that looked amazing on him and absolutely unholy to Gerard’s nervous system. He flopped down beside him and downed an entire water bottle like he hadn’t just murdered Gerard’s sense of self-control for thirty minutes straight.

Frank smelled like sweat, Gerard's new favorite cologne, apparently. He was dangerously close, and Gerard could practically feel the heat radiating off of him like he was sitting next to a very smug furnace.

And just when Gerard thought it couldn’t get worse, Frank leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. A soft, casual, sweaty kiss, probably meaningless to Frank, but Gerard's brain short-circuited. Fireworks. Static. He was sure his heart stopped beating for a few seconds.

Frank grinned, oblivious to the meltdown occurring beside him. “You didn’t look bored. Were you actually watching the game for once?”

Gerard blinked slowly, trying to recalibrate his soul. “Yeah. Uh. Big fan of… running.”

Frank snorted, bumping their shoulders together before pulling Gerard to his feet. “Come on, benchwarmer. Let’s go pretend to shower before the next class.”

After what had been their most intense make‑out session yet, snuck into the last shower stall, they finally disentangled, each off to complete the mundane task of cleaning off reality. Gerard spent the afternoon in the library, chatting with the sweet old librarian who had no idea that, mere hours earlier, her favorite quiet boy had been locking lips with Frank, the lucky condom buyer.

Seeking refuge among dusty pages, Gerard made his way upstairs to the second‑floor fantasy section. He thumbed through illustrated maps and sagas... until a small locked alcove caught his eye. The padlock looked ancient and a bit sad, like a forgotten relic. Curiosity got the better of him, and with a deliberate nudge from him, it clicked open.

Inside lay a collection of religious texts on sexuality. Gerard’s stomach clenched. Titles like Sexuality in the Sight of God, Divine Purity: Sexual Ethics in Faith, and Sins of the Flesh: A Moral Examination stared up at him. He hesitated, then gently lifted Sexuality in the Sight of God. The subtitle, something about sanctity and salvation, immediately set his heart thudding.

He sank into a nearby armchair and started reading. The writing’s tone was stern, almost anxious. One passage detailed how lovemaking outside marriage, especially same-sex acts, would doom souls to a specifically designed section of hell. Another described men who loved other men as “demons so fierce they defy divine order.” Another chapter stressed that sex should only ever reach fruition for procreation, anything beyond that was a moral deviation.

Each word felt like a cold finger on Gerard’s chest. He recognized that this literature was designed to shame, to squeeze any warmth or identity from someone like him. A part of him wanted to shut the book and run, but another part hungered for understanding, proof that he wasn’t misreading his own body and feelings.

Time blurred. He skimmed more titles, Temple Boundaries, Purity Codes of the Patriarchs, Forbidden Love Through the Ages. With every new tome he opened, the library chair felt a little more confessional. When he finally closed the last book, the weight in his chest nearly crushed him. He returned the book to its glass shelf, re-fastened the best he could, and shook it just enough to avoid suspicion.

Gerard smoothed down his shirt, tucked his hands into his pockets, and fled, eyes glued to the floor. His steps were ashamed. At the front desk, he forced a polite smile at the librarian, who greeted him with her usual warmth. “See you tomorrow, sweetie,” she said, her tone oblivious and benign.

“See you tomorrow,” he answered, voice shaky but polite. As he escaped the building, the afternoon breeze hit his face. The books he’d read echoed in his head. Shame. Fear. Anger. Confusion.

When Gerard returned to their quiet dorm room, he found Frank fast asleep, sprawled out on his bed with the small teddy bear nestled securely in his arms. Clearly, the morning soccer match had taken its toll. Frank’s breathing was soft and steady, his face relaxed in sleep, a faint crease of a pillow mark visible on his cheek.

Gerard quietly sat on the edge of his own bed, letting his gaze linger. There was something impossibly tender about the way Frank slept, unguarded and peaceful, entirely himself. And as Gerard watched the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, his thoughts wandered to the weight of the day.

How could something so rooted in tenderness, this feeling that pulsed like light through his veins, be painted as ugly, sinful, wrong? How could the simple act of affection between two boys be twisted into something grotesque by others who had never even felt this kind of softness?

He didn’t know if what he felt for Frank was capital‑L Love yet. But it was something… something powerful and warm, that tightened his chest, that filled every empty corner of him and made him want to be better. Being cared for in return was like a blessing he wasn’t sure he deserved.

And before he even realized it, tears were silently spilling down his cheeks. Heavy, full tears that carried days’ worth of unspoken emotions. He covered his eyes with both hands, body curling in slightly, trying to cry as quietly as he could, not wanting to wake up Frank.

But Frank stirred. Somehow, through the fog of sleep, he heard Gerard’s soft sniffling, like some alarm inside him had gone off.

“Gee?” Frank’s voice was thick and laced with concern.

Gerard didn’t answer, just curled in tighter, trying to shrink himself out of existence. But Frank was already moving, crossing the room in a few steps and easing onto Gerard’s bed without hesitation. Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around him, anchoring him with the kind of warmth only Frank could provide right now.

He felt like nap-warm skin and comfort, and Gerard leaned into him like it was the only place in the world that made sense. His shoulders shook a bit harder. Frank held him tighter. He didn’t ask what was wrong. He didn’t push for an explanation. He just let his touch speak for him, steady strokes over Gerard’s back, a calming hand in his hair, quiet presence through the hiccups and sobs. He made space for it all.

When Gerard finally found his voice, he blurted out between shaky breaths, “Do you think I’m… gross? Like I can't control my urges? And… is this wrong? Is it wrong to want to be with you?”

Frank recognized the weight behind the question, and he tried to answer it as maturely as he could. He gently swept away a stray tear from Gerard’s cheek and replied softly, “First off, I would never think that. And second, this is natural. Being intimate with someone you care about isn’t some seven-headed monster that eternally damns you. It’s love. Sometimes it’s just desire. But both are human. Both are beautiful reactions to what we feel.”

Gerard sniffled, attempting a shaky laugh. “You sound so mature.”

Frank shrugged playfully. “Hey, I can be. Sometimes.” He paused, studying Gerard’s face. “Where is this coming from?”

Gerard’s shoulders tensed. “Weird old books in the library that said loving someone of the same sex will send us straight to hell… to a special punishment room or whatever.”

Frank rolled his eyes affectionately. “Oh yeah? You’ll share your afterlife torture accommodations with me? That's pretty cute.” Gerard cracked a smile, his first real one in hours.

Frank shifted and took Gerard’s hands, holding them firmly. “Look, I know it’s been confusing. We’re both figuring this out, and that’s okay. But please, never question what we have. Because what I feel for you is pure.” He paused, voice softening. “With you, I feel so open and I feel happy. The world narrows to just us, and this is special. I love how you light up talking about anything. I love how you still get shy around me, and how it makes me shy too. And if all of this is wrong… well, then I’d rather be wrong with you than right without you.”

Tears blurred Gerard’s eyes, harder than before. Frank’s heart surged.

“Oh God, did I say something wrong?” He panicked.

But Gerard shook his head, struggling through the tears, “No… you’re so good to me…”

Frank’s breath hitched. He cupped Gerard’s face and kissed each teary cheek gently. “Awww… of course, baby,” he whispered. Frank peppered Gerad’s face with kisses, with every soft press, Gerard’s tears slowed, his breathing evened out, and the emotional storm began to pass.

Their kisses began to slow, growing more deliberate, more thoughtful. Hands wandered with curiosity, no longer rushed but careful and attentive. Their bodies pressed closer together, radiating warmth, comforting, but also completely irresistible. Time stretched in the soft haze between them as they exchanged kisses, occasionally broken by a playful lick to the cheek followed by quiet, breathless laughter.

“I wanna do it, Frank.”

Frank blinked, still a little dazed from the haze of warmth and kisses. “Hmm? Do what?”

Gerard hesitated, cheeks already flushing. “You know… want you to fuck me.”

Frank unglued their mouths as fast as he could, his heart beating so fucking fast from hearing Gerard say such crude words for the first time. It was usually him saying the inappropriate stuff, but seeing Gerard right there, so pliant and almost begging for it, asking even, now it was Frank’s turn to blush like a tomato.

“You want to… what? Oh my god, are you serious?”

“You’re the one panicking now,” Gerard pointed out, smirking despite his own racing heart and damp cheeks.

“I’ve never… you know… done it with a boy.”

“Well, I’ve never done it with anyone, so I guess we’re kind of even?” Gerard replied, raising an eyebrow.

Frank blinked at him, taking a few deep breaths and trying to slow down his entire nervous system. “Okay… okay, you’re right,” he said, before leaning in for a quick, supportive peck on Gerard’s lips.

“I’m just gonna hop in the shower real quick, and I’ll be right back, alright? If you start freaking out, feel free to come in, we can just talk while I wash up.”

Frank nodded, managing a small laugh. He was already freaking out. Frank lay on Gerard’s unmade bed, fussing with his lip ring in a familiar nervous habit of his. Sure, he’d had sex before, but never like this, with someone he truly cared about. What if he fumbled something and Gerard never spoke to him again?

He sighed low enough that only he could hear it. His mind ticked off a familiar list: his dick was average, he’d gained a few pounds since last month, needed a haircut, and his cheek still bore the aftermath of that stubborn bruise. Rising, he padded over to the window and studied his reflection. He knew Gerard thought he was attractive, but he still felt utterly ordinary.

He stood on his tip toes, was he too short? I guess they’d be laying down but, ugh, what about his stomach? Would it be too noticeable if he was on top? He wanted to disappear, Frank usually ignored those insecurities by sticking them at the back of his mind, but they all kind of came crashing down at the same time due to what was about to happen.

When the bathroom door creaked open, out walked Gerard looking downright adorable in a pair of Lord of the Rings pajamas, his damp hair almost touching his shoulders. Frank, who had been mentally rehearsing how not to be awkward, immediately sucked in his stomach and subtly leaned against the closet in what he hoped looked like a nonchalant, bicep-flexing pose, despite the fact he’d never so much as touched a dumbbell in his life.

Gerard squinted, amused. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” Frank replied a little too quickly. “Just, you know… being sexy and… attractive?” It came out sounding like a question, and he knew he looked like an idiot.

Gerard only laughed, crossing the room to gently cup Frank’s cheeks in his hands. And then he kissed him, initiated it, even, which might’ve been a first. That fact alone made Frank’s brain shut up for a second. The kiss was electric, growing steadily more intense in that way only hormonal young men could do. Still, their hands remained respectfully over clothes, as had quietly become their rule.

Gerard pulled back for a moment, breathless. “My bed or yours?”

“Yours,” Frank answered instantly. “It smells like you.”

They stumbled their way over, Frank helping Gerard down onto the mattress before crawling on top of him, hovering just inches away.

“Hi,” he whispered, grinning.

“Hey there,” Gerard replied, eyes soft.

Gerard smelled like fresh soap and shampoo, and Frank, despite every effort, was very aware that he probably still smelled faintly of cigarettes, thanks to a quick solo trip to the chapel courtyard earlier. But just as the insecurity started to creep in, Gerard leaned in, nuzzling into the crook of Frank’s neck.

“I love the way you smell,” he murmured, like to him, it was the most obvious truth in the world.

Frank felt goosebumps shoot across his entire body. He let out a low, bashful hum of appreciation, brain fogged and heart suddenly about five sizes bigger. After finally retrieving the “sin bag,” as they had sweetly nicknamed it, the boys still felt a bit rusty when it came to actually… you know, getting it on.

“Can we turn the lights off? Maybe just leave the bedside lamp on? No one’s seen me naked since my parents used to bathe me as a kid, so I’m freaking out a little,” Gerard admitted, cheeks coloring.

Frank let out a relieved sigh. Finally, he wasn’t the only one feeling awkward about his body. “That is actually a good fucking idea. Please don't look at my stomach that much."

“Aww, but I love it,” Gerard said with a mischievous grin. “You know I always rub it when we’re about to fall asleep!”

Frank shot him a deadpan look. “That was supposed to be a state secret, even between us. But yeah… let’s keep the eyes up here, okay?”

Gerard nodded carefully, trying to memorize the unspoken boundaries.

“We’ll get there eventually,” Frank said softly. “For now, let’s just… start slow, keep it comfortable, and try not to be weird.”

Gerard smiled, feeling like he was floating on a big, fluffy cloud. The drowsy warmth settled over him, making his whole body feel pleasantly heavy. The first sensation of skin-on-skin came as Frank’s cool fingertips traced lightly along Gerard’s waist, just beneath the loose fabric of his lounging t-shirt. The unexpected chill sent a thrilling shiver down his spine. Feeling playful, Gerard gently bit Frank’s lower lip, right near the piercing, knowing it was a sensitive spot.

They knocked teeth, and giggled about it, they exchanged neck kisses and moaned about it. When the shirts finally came off, the warmth of skin against skin made Gerard’s head spin with a pleasant kind of dizzy. True to his word, he kept his eyes mostly elsewhere, even though he was itching to take in every inch of Frank’s physique. In the gentle, low light of the room, he focused instead on the little sounds Frank made and the tender way they touched, savoring every moment as they’d agreed.

Their lower parts knocked together, the drag pleasurable. Gerard was lost in so many sensations, but feeling good in all of them. Frank asked for permission before slipping off his sweatpants, taking off his next and quickly covering them both with the comforter before they could stare too much at each other.

Gerard ran his fingers through Frank’s hair, already damp at the temples from the heat and excitement building around them. They kissed again, taking their time to explore each other with nothing but skin in between. It was blissful, Gerard let himself get lost in the moment, even slipping out a little moan or two, which Frank definitely caught, given how close they were.

“Is it okay if I finger you?” Frank whispered between them and Gerard couldn’t help but moan again.

Believe it or not, knowing Frank had a bit more experience, and actually knew how to handle him a little bit, made Gerard even more turned on and eager for whatever was next. He just nodded, his mouth suddenly feeling a bit unreliable. Meanwhile, Frank carefully coated his fingers with the simplest lube available on the store, no flavor, no sensation, no nothing.

Gerard could feel it by his entrance, suddenly feeling pretty nervous about it. Frank shushed him calmly. “Relax for me baby, I’ll take care of you. Promise.”

Frank started fingering him, soon adding one more finger, and then one more. It was honestly kind of irresistible and so hot watching Frank so focused on the task at hand, carefully reading every little reaction Gerard’s body gave. He caught the way his arms tensed with each movement as he tried to reach the spot inside him, the way his eyebrows knitted together in concentration, and the taller boy threw his head back in awe.

This was nothing like touching himself. Nope, he had absolutely no clue where the next touch would come from, and that unpredictability made it all the more thrilling.

Once Frank felt Gerard was ready, he leaned in, bringing their bodies close again. Their skin was warm and damp, clinging together in a way that was undeniably messy, sweaty, flushed, maybe even a little gross, but underneath it all was something soft and steady: trust. Care. A whole lot of affection packed into every heartbeat. Frank paused, his brows furrowed just slightly with concern. “If anything hurts, seriously, just tell me, okay? We stop the second you need to.”

Gerard gave a firm nod, even though his heart was practically trying to somersault out of his chest. Oh god, consent. Why was that suddenly the hottest thing on the planet?

“I need to hear you say it, baby,” Frank murmured, voice low and careful.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gerard exhaled, a little breathless. “Okay. Sure. Green light.”

Frank let out a shaky laugh and leaned down to kiss his forehead, lips brushing over damp hair. Then, with a bit of practiced ease (too much ease, maybe), Frank reached for the box, tore it open, and rolled the condom on beneath the comforter like it was nothing. Gerard couldn’t help but stare, mind spiraling into curiosity. Just how many times had he done this before? And why was that so annoyingly hot?

“Ready?” Frank asked, his voice slightly breathless.

“Yeah. Are you?” Gerard responded, his heart already racing.

“Fuck no.”

Gerard laughed, caught off guard by the honesty. “Do you want to stop?”

“I don’t,” Frank said quickly. “But I’m so fucking nervous, you have no idea.”

“You really don’t look like it, if that helps,” Gerard offered a small smile.

“It doesn’t,” Frank muttered, chuckling under his breath. “But thanks.”

Gerard gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “If it hurts, I’ll tell you. We’ll be okay, yeah?”

Frank nodded, still visibly tense, biting at his lip ring because his nerves were getting the best of him. Then, slowly, he braced himself on his forearms, hovering just above Gerard’s face. One of their hands remained tightly clasped, fingers intertwined like a lifeline. With his other one, he managed to steady himself and stick the tip of his dick inside Gerard. They both sighed at the sensation, even if it wasn’t even one inch in.

Frank tried to ease it a little further in, but Gerard quickly whispered, “Can we stop for a second?” The burning sensation was too much, too sudden.

Frank froze immediately. “Okay. Okay, yeah. We’re good. Just breathe.”

What followed was nearly ten minutes of stillness and patience. They lay there, close and quiet, letting the tension melt away bit by bit. Frank’s fingers brushed gently over Gerard’s forehead and cheeks, murmuring small, soothing nothings. Gerard breathed through it, clinging to Frank’s steady presence. The room was silent except for the soft whir of the fan and their occasional whispered reassurance.

Eventually, when Frank was finally all the way in, and Gerard gave a small, shaky nod of okay, they both exhaled the breaths they hadn’t realized they were holding.

“You’re… so fucking tight. If you don’t give me like five seconds I’ll literally cum right now and sleep until tomorrow.”

Gerard let out a breathy laugh, and Frank could quite literally feel it. “Oh god,” he groaned, burying his face in Gerard’s neck at the sensation, “Please don’t laugh.”

They were almost literally stuck together, no movement at all from both parties because Frank was about to spill everything, Gerard, meanwhile, could only manage a soft, breathy laugh and run a calming hand through Frank’s dark hair in reassurance.

Once he composed himself, Frank concentrated on not cumming on the spot. Trusting inside the boy under him that let out a surprised moan, all of him being hit on just right by Frank. From the feeling alone, since he didn’t quite get a good look at his dick, Frank was not that big, but thick in a way that made the drag so so good.

It felt good, new and intense in a way that left Gerard both curious and dazed. The sensation was welcome, but still unfamiliar, like listening to a song in a language you didn’t speak but somehow understood. Frank, on the other hand, was in a completely different headspace, clinging to the last thread of self-control, determined to make the experience as good as possible for Gerard, even if he felt like he might spontaneously combust in the process. At a particularly well-aimed thrust, Gerard’s head fell back against the pillow, a sharp gasp escaping him before he could even think to hold it in, and from the way Gerard reacted, Frank knew he’d found exactly the right spot.

Well, it should’ve been, because five thrusts later and he was spilling everything inside the condom, Frank slumped down on top of Gerard, completely breathless and utterly boneless, a sheepish little “sorry” mumbled between them. Gerard couldn’t help but laugh, he found the whole thing impossibly endearing rather than frustrating. Sure, it hadn’t been flawless, but who said first times had to be? For him, this was more than enough. In fact, he couldn't imagine it being any sweeter.

Once Frank could actually catch his breath, he took care of the used condom and returned to bed looking suspiciously determined, like it was a personal mission to make Gerard come. The boy had gone a bit soft, so Frank guessed the first thing he had to do was initiate a kiss between them again. And so he did, but he was still pretty much reckless on how to touch a dick, even though he literally had one.

When he felt Gerard’s erection chubbing up against his thigh under the covers, he knew it was time to actually do something about it. With a low, nervous voice, he asked for permission to touch him, Gerard could only nod in response, completely dazed. The angle was a little awkward, though, and Frank kept adjusting, trying to make it work until his arm went numb.

“Babe, I’m sorry, I’m not a dick expert.”

Gerard let out a breathy laugh. “Do you wanna maybe try being behind me? Y’know, so it’s more familiar to you? I think it might work.”

So, they switched places, Frank propped up against the bed frame, Gerard nestled between his legs, the comforter still pulled over them because, honestly, they were both afraid of dicks.

“Okay, first,” Gerard said, grabbing Frank’s hand and spitting on it. Frank was so turned on at the sight, his eyes totally lost on what to do next. “Go on,” Gerard laughed, “It’s too dry, kinda hurts.”

After snapping out of his little trance, Frank reached for Gerard’s hard member again, this time more determined to get it right. He thought about what he liked and how he touched his own dick, but figured everyone’s a bit different, and that just made him wonder what exactly he should be doing.

He gave a few tentative jerks, sliding Gerard’s spit around his cock. The quiet sound made them both a bit shy, but also so fucking horny. “Is this okay, baby?” he asked softly.

The pet names were driving Gerard crazy, and his balls tightened at it. He nodded, cheeks flushed. “Maybe a little faster… and tighter.”

Frank complied, tightening his grip on Gerard’s cock and fastening his pace, the boy threw his head onto Frank’s shoulder, his ragged breaths brushing against the other’s sweaty neck. Frank couldn’t resist turning his head just enough to plant tiny kisses along Gerard’s temple and cheek, a small, gentle gesture of affection telling the boy to let go and give himself to pleasure.

Gerard opened his legs a bit more, leaving more room for Frank to touch him freely. The shorter boy noticed how Gerard was quiet when it came to sex, emitting only small sounds that he couldn’t control and that Frank had to concentrate to actually hear. He guessed it suited him and fell more in love right then and there. Hand on dick and all.

He breathed deeply, feeling that Gerard was growing close to an orgasm every time he squeezed the head of his penis. His thighs trembled, and his Adam’s apple bobbed nervously in his throat. Tiny beads of sweat kissed his forehead as his eyes squeezed shut. “F-Frankie, I’m close.”

Hearing his name leaving Gerard’s lips like that made Frank almost lose it, movements growing even faster. Frank couldn’t help it but to latch his mouth on Gerard’s neck, softly biting the skin, tasting the sweat there. At the feeling, Gerard came with a rigged moan that sounded a lot like Frank’s name.

Frank jerked him through the aftershocks, chest rising and falling. After the bliss wore off, the embarrassment hit. Gerard practically made himself smaller, even sitting down, curling his knees in and burying his face in the crook of Frank’s neck. Frank just laughed softly and let him hide there, wrapping his body around Gerard in this awkwardly protective hug. Their heads came together for comfort, fingers entwined again, both just wanting to be as close as possible.

At that moment, Frank didn’t care one bit that his right hand was covered in cum, that their skin was clammy and sticky, and that they both definitely needed a shower, like, yesterday. None of that mattered. Not the awkwardness, not the sweat, not the discomfort of being a little gross. All Frank wanted was to stay wrapped up in Gerard’s warmth, to hold onto him as tightly as possible.

Gerard was trying to hide, curling into Frank’s neck like a shy little baby animal, while also clinging to him at the same time, as if being close was the only thing keeping the world from spinning out of control.

Frank finally managed to coax the boy’s eyes to meet his own, and with a careful shift, they settled side by side on the bed, sharing the same pillow. The comforter lay draped over them, stubbornly refusing to budge, a warm, tangled barrier that somehow didn’t make them overheat, even though the room felt like a sauna.

Their eyes stayed locked, shy little smiles breaking through every now and then like sunbeams through clouds, hesitant. Unable to hold back any longer, Frank leaned in closer, bridging the small space between their faces until their noses gently brushed together, a tender nuzzle that made his heart race.

“So, how did you like your first time? Sorry for cumming in like 5 minutes.”

Although Frank said it jokingly, Gerard could tell beneath the humor there was a flush of embarrassment.

“I loved it.”

Frank looked genuinely surprised, his eyebrows shooting up. “Really? You did?”

“Well, yeah. It was with you, so I guess that made all the difference.” Gerard smiled softly, feeling a bit shy but honest.

Frank rolled his eyes dramatically. “Oh, so that’s what all your late-night wet dreams were about. Got it.”

“Shut up, Frank.” Gerard nudged him playfully, trying not to laugh.

“No, seriously,” Frank said, his tone shifting to something more thoughtful. “How was it for you? Were you comfortable? Did it hurt at all during those five minutes I somehow managed to hold it together inside you?”

Gerard bit his lip and thought for a moment. “It didn’t hurt, not really. Just a little bit at the beginning when we had to stop. I’m still not used to the sensation, but I felt safe.”

Frank glanced down, suddenly a little embarrassed, his cheeks tinged pink. “I hope we get to figure all this stuff out together… You know, take it slow, learn what works for both of us.”

“You’re so red right now.”

“Shut uuuuup,” Frank muttered, though his grin betrayed him.

They woke up intertwined, as if cuddling each other had always been second nature, though the only real change from typical nights was the complete abandonment of clothes, both too exhausted and lazy to even bother retrieving underwear.

Gerard stirred first. His muscles felt pleasantly tender from the night's events, but more importantly, his mind was unburdened, no guilt, no anxiety. Just a calm, contented peace. He blinked at the ceiling, marveling at how much his world had shifted ever since this smaller, softer boy crashed onto his life. Frank, currently snoring, lay beside him, limbs askew and totally unselfconscious.

With a sly grin, Gerard fished out his underwear and borrowed Frank’s oversized t‑shirt, pulling it on without a second thought. Padding over to the bathroom, he splashed water on his face, determined to look… at least dorm-room acceptable. But something he noticed on his neck made him stop all his ministrations.

"Frank Anthony Thomas Iero Jr."

Gerard stormed across the room to the bed. Under normal circumstances, the sight of Frank passed out completely naked on top of the covers would’ve been hilarious. Unfortunately, this wasn’t exactly a comedy moment to him.

The shorter boy stirred, ever the heavy sleeper. His green eyes blinked open slowly, focusing on Gerard, who looked absolutely furious, though, in Frank’s opinion, still pretty cute in his oversized shirt. Frank only hummed in response, rubbing his eyes and yawning while trying to wake up properly.

"Care to explain this?"

Gerard pointed accusingly at his neck, where a very purple, very unmistakable hickey had bloomed.

"Oh man…" Frank chuckled under his breath.

"This is not funny! How the hell am I supposed to show up to class like this?"

"Hey, hey, relax. We’ll figure something out, alright? Just... after I put on some clothes. I know you can’t resist my gorgeous body, but try to keep it together."

He grinned, but Gerard just stood there, arms crossed, radiating murder.

"Ugh, I didn’t know I bruised so easily," Gerard muttered, examining the damage in the mirror once again.

Frank wandered over behind him, admiring his handiwork. "Damn, I did a great job."

Gerard spun around, eyes narrowed, looking like he was about to strangle someone.

"Hey, you weren’t complaining last night when you were cumming your brains out."

Gerard felt like a walking furnace. Wearing a full turtleneck underneath a dress shirt and tie in August was probably a crime, and definitely against some unspoken law of nature. Every step toward campus made him sweatier, grumpier, and more convinced that he was going to spontaneously combust out of heat.

Beside him, Frank looked completely unfazed. Worse, he looked pleased with himself.

He strolled along like nothing was wrong, tossing casual smiles at people they passed, most of whom were definitely giving them weird looks. Gerard wasn’t sure if it was the outfit, the slow public unraveling of his sanity, or the very obvious "we fucked” energy that clung to them. (Okay, maybe it was all three.)

Just before they split up for class, Frank leaned in and lowered his voice. "Hey listen, don’t panic. Jennie probably has some makeup stuff at her place. We can use that to cover the bruise, alright? No big deal."

Gerard blinked at him. "Jennie? As in the same Jennie you kissed before confessing to me? The one you also fucked last year?" He folded his arms, giving Frank a pout.

Frank winced, then smiled like he was trying not to. "Okay, technically, yes. I didn’t kiss her before I confessed to you though, but yeah, the second part is… not inaccurate."

Gerard just rolled his eyes. "Great."

"But she already knows about us," Frank added quickly. "I kind of came out to her at that party. It’s... a long story. One I’ll happily tell you when I’m not five minutes late to a class I’ve already failed once."

By the end of the school day, Gerard was a mess. His neck was sweating. His shirt was sticking to him all over and he was so irritated.

Frank, meanwhile, was completely unbothered. As usual. He hummed to himself as they made their way to the school gates, hands in his pockets. It was offensive to Gerard how relaxed he looked, so he kept glancing at him with passive-aggressive eyes.

“Stop looking at me like you're contemplating murder, please,” Frank said eventually, without even turning his head.

“I am contemplating murder,” Gerard muttered. “You are, very literally, the reason I’m sweating through two layers of clothing.”

Frank just grinned. “You still look hot.”

A few minutes later, Jennie arrived, cheerful, waving a small makeup bag in one hand. "Hey, Frank. Here’s that concealer you asked for. What do you even need it for, anyway?"

Frank opened his mouth, then immediately closed it again when he and Gerard exchanged a brief but suspicious look. Jennie followed their gaze and only then noticed Gerard standing beside him.

Her face lit up. "Ohhh! You must be Gerard!" She grinned. "Frank talked a lot about you at the party."

"Okay, cool, time to stop talking now," Frank said quickly, grabbing the concealer and trying to move things along.

But Gerard’s curiosity was piqued. He raised an eyebrow. "Wait, hold on. What did he say?”

Jennie smiled like the cat who knew exactly where the canary was buried. "Mmm, I have a feeling he already shared most of it with you," she said smugly. Then she leaned in, whispering next to Gerard’s ear, "But I think he has a crush on you."

Gerard let out a dry laugh. "If having a crush includes trying to bite my neck off, then yeah, I’d say he’s pretty into me."

Jennie blinked once, then burst into laughter. "Oh! So that’s what this is for!" She glanced around, then gave a mock-salute. "Anyways, be safe, boys. Wear condoms."

With that, she turned on her heel and vanished into the street just before a professor could notice them trading illicit cosmetics on school property. There was a brief silence.

Gerard blinked after her. "She’s… nice."

Frank sighed and shook his head. "She’s a menace to society."

Back at the dorm’s bathroom, Gerard finally peeled off the layers that had been suffocating him all day. The turtleneck, the button-up shirt, the tie, it all landed in a pile on the tile floor as he climbed onto the counter and sat on the edge of the sink. The cool air hit his skin like a blessing, his chest rising and falling with exaggerated relief. God, it felt good to breathe.

But as he sat there, half-naked in the bathroom light, a creeping realization hit him: this was the first time Frank was really seeing him like this. Shirtless. Exposed. Just... him.

The night before had been dark, with the lights off, and the duvet pulled high, Gerard doing everything short of wearing a hoodie during sex to keep himself hidden. He wasn’t really used to being seen.

And yet, Frank was there, leaning against the wall a few feet away, silent and soft-eyed. And staring. Not exactly in a gross way. It was more... reverent. Frank looked like he was trying to memorize him. Gerard immediately looked away, face heating up for reasons that had nothing to do with the leftover heat from walking around in wool. His hands twitched like he wanted to cover himself again.

But then, without saying anything, Frank stepped forward and buried his face gently into the side of Gerard’s neck, right where he’d left the infamous, purple hickey. He breathed him in slowly, like trying to remember Gerard's scent.

Frank’s lips parted slightly, pressing an open-mouthed kiss over the bruise. It wasn’t sexual, moreso devotional. His hands slid down the sides of Gerard’s torso with such care it almost felt like an apology, like he knew this body came with walls and doubts and years of insecurity and wanted to touch it like it deserved better.

Gerard had spent so much of his life hating the way he looked, hating how his chest curved or how pale his skin was or how his bones didn’t sit like other boys’. But right then, with Frank’s fingers tracing down his ribs and his mouth pressing slow, patient kisses to his neck, Gerard didn’t feel like something to be fixed. He felt wanted. And that feeling, whatever it was, was so beautiful it nearly scared him.

Frank pulled back slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes, then cradled Gerard’s face between his hands and tilted it upward. Their lips met in a kiss that was slow, sure, without needing a single word. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t hungry. They sighed into each other, foreheads brushing, skin warm, the space between them folding in like a secret they finally knew how to carry.

Frank smiled softly. "Can I say something stupid?"

The question hung in the air. The weight of the moment was heavy, but not in a bad way, like standing at the edge of something wonderful and terrifying at the same time. Gerard didn’t speak, just nodded

Frank exhaled. "I’m in love with you. I love you, Gee."

He said it like it was the only thing he’d ever been completely sure of. And Gerard, surprised as he was, felt it. Every word. In the way Frank said it. In the way his hands still held him like he was something fragile and precious. In the way he didn’t rush to explain it or take it back. It bloomed inside him, this weird, warm, dizzying sensation that climbed up through his ribs and settled inside his body.

Frank kept going, because of course he did. "I imagined saying it in a more dramatic way, like on a rooftop during a thunderstorm or in the middle of a flash mob or something ridiculous like that. But... there’s not much to say, really. I just know. I know I’m in love with you. I feel it in my bones. Like, this little squeeze I get in my chest every time I see you. Or how my heart just goes stupid whenever you look at me. Or how I laugh more when I’m around you, even when your jokes are bad, and God, they’re so bad…"

Gerard laughed quietly, eyes still shy but softening. Frank smiled through it, brushing a thumb across his cheek. "I know it sounds cheesy and gay as hell, but I wanted you to know. I needed you to. I don’t want you to ever doubt what I feel."

There was a silence, but it wasn’t awkward. Gerard finally looked up, eyes shining but unsure. He didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he reached up, took Frank’s face in both hands, and pulled him in for a kiss again.

When he pulled back, his voice was barely above a whisper. "I’m in love with you too. In the most cheesy, most gay way that exists."

Frank let out a disbelieving laugh, giddy and breathless. He kissed him again, longer this time, like he needed one more seal on the moment.

Then he pulled away just enough to grin and say: "Okay. Before I start making out with your face again, we should probably do something about that hickey I gave you."

Gerard sighed and reached for the concealer. "You mean the one you attacked me with?"

"I was expressing affection,” Frank said defensively. “And doing an excellent job, apparently.”

They examined the concealer in the mirror. The shade was... not ideal. A little too warm. But between a careful blending situation and Gerard buttoning his shirt all the way up, they figured it would pass for the mass they had later. Barely. But they didn't really care anymore.

Mass was, unsurprisingly, just as boring as every other week, maybe even worse this time. Too many boys crammed shoulder to shoulder in the stifling heat of the main chapel, dress shoes scuffing marble floors, the overwhelming scent of incense making everything feel heavy and holy in that vaguely oppressive ambience. A weekly dose of ritualized guilt.

The priest’s voice echoed through the cavernous space, reading lines from the Bible with a loud, emotional tone. Gerard sat rigid beside Frank, knees together, fingers twisted around the fabric of his pants. His jaw was tight, eyes locked somewhere near the stained-glass window above the altar, but it was obvious to Frank that he wasn’t really looking at anything. He was actively listening.

The reading had wandered into the territory of sin and punishment, fire and damnation, the usual bunch. And Gerard’s breathing had subtly shifted, shallower. Frank didn’t hesitate, reaching down and gently taking Gerard’s hand, sliding their fingers together in his lap, grounding him with something real. Gerard’s eyes flicked down, startled for just a second, but then he gripped back. It was easy to spiral and believe the words were meant for him. So Frank held his hand like a tether, that was the only kind of prayer Gerard needed.

After the final “Amen” and the slow procession of boys filing out, Frank tugged Gerard aside, steering them toward the back exit, away from the others. No one paid them much attention. They snuck around the side of the building and found their place: the quiet, crumbling steps of the disused chapel. Their unofficial spot. No rules. No glares. Just their own space.

Frank slumped down on the steps with a long exhale, fishing a cigarette from the inner pocket of his blazer. Gerard sat beside him, legs stretched out, blazer bunched under him as a makeshift cushion. Frank lit up, took a drag, and leaned his head back.

“God,” he muttered, exhaling smoke, “if that was supposed to save my soul, I think it backfired.”

Gerard laughed under his breath. “World’s slowest group exorcism.”

They talked like that for a while, loose and easy, it was pretty much always like this after mass. They needed to scrape off the weight of it, and let the lightness return, as ironic as that sounded. At some point, Frank leaned his head against Gerard’s shoulder, gently, like he’d done a thousand times before. Gerard didn’t even flinch anymore, just shifted slightly, and let Frank settle in against him. Their physical boundaries had been softening for weeks after their first time together.

The sound of voices broke the calm, with loud, mocking sounds echoing off stone. Gerard stiffened instantly. He turned his head just enough to see movement around the side of the chapel. Frank sat up slowly, lifting his head from Gerard’s shoulder, cigarette still between his fingers.

A group of boys emerged, five of them, loud and smirking, clearly amused by themselves. Frank recognized all of them right away.

One of them called out, his voice cutting across the courtyard. “You still hanging out with this freak, Frank?”

Gerard’s stomach twisted into something cold, but familiar by now. His shoulders hunched instinctively, already bracing himself for impact. He hated that they were probably going to ruin the one part of his day that actually felt okay. Another boy chimed in, his tone mocking: “Careful what you say, man. Frank might try to give us black eyes again. I’m not trying to get sent back to the principal just ‘cause you can’t shut up.”

They laughed, but Frank didn’t even blink. He flicked ash from his cigarette, not even remotely affected by what was happening.

“Is he sucking your dick so you don’t stop hanging out with him? Is he your boyfriend now?”

Gerard looked down at his hands, already expecting an avalanche of slurs or jokes or worse.

“What do you want?” Frank asked, voice calm and steady. “Can’t you guys take a hint? We’re not exactly begging for company.”

Another one scoffed. “Why, so you two can kiss or something?”

That was it. That was the bait. And Frank, God bless his chaotic, fearless heart, took it. He smiled, like he’d been waiting all day for someone to give him permission.

“Maybe,” he said.

There was a pause, then came the confused, almost horrified reaction: “Wait, what? Are you gay now?”

Frank didn’t answer, but the next thing Gerard knew, was that Frank was turning toward him with something wild and stupid and brave in his eyes. And then, he kissed him. Right there, in front of all of them.

His hand found the back of Gerard’s neck, thumb brushing against his skin because it was a habit. The kiss wasn’t flashy or dramatic, just familiar to them. Like they’d done it a hundred times already. (Because they had lol).

Gerard froze for a second, caught between panic and warmth blooming in his chest. But Frank didn’t stop, he just kissed him like none of the world mattered except the two of them. And the silence from the group? Priceless. For a moment, all the mocking laughter died. The idea had been funny until it became reality, and then reality slapped them right in the face.

Someone made a sound, a surprised gasp. “Yo, what the hell–”

Frank actually laughed into the kiss. Not because he thought it was a joke, but because the moment was so good. So bold and wrong and perfectly, perfectly right. He kissed Gerard deeper, fingers sliding along his jaw, lips pressing forward like this was just any other after-school moment between two boys who’d gotten tired of hiding.

Gerard was already blushing so hard he could feel it in his ears, but he kissed back anyway. Even as his mind raced through every possible outcome. Expulsion. Suspension. A priest reading them a passage about eternal damnation. Or worse, these guys snapping and jumping them right there, burying their bodies behind the chapel with the rest of the school’s skeletons.

But still he didn’t stop.

“Okay, what the fuck?” one of the boys finally shouted, as if saying it out loud would undo what they’d just seen. “Are you seriously kissing him? Like actually?”

“Yeah,” Frank mumbled, lips still brushing against Gerard’s.

“Dude, we’re literally on school grounds! That’s against the rules!”

Gerard felt Frank grin against his lips.

He unglued their mouths for a moment, “Then I guess we’re going to hell,” he said, before adding his other hand to Gerard’s cheek and kissing him again, this time even deeper. His tongue ghosted over Gerard’s lips, asking for entrance, casually commiting a Catholic scandal.

One of the boys actually gagged. “We’re reporting this! You’re both so done!”

Frank didn’t even look up.

The group finally turned and stormed off, a loud trail of disbelief and disgust following them. Promises of expulsion were tossed over their shoulders. Something about "defiling sacred ground." One of them said “freaks” again, but it barely even registered anymore. When the last pair of footsteps vanished around the corner, silence washed over the courtyard.

And then, they broke. Frank was the first to laugh, uncontrollably so. Gerard followed instantly, gasping for air through a wheeze, face flushed and hands shaking with leftover adrenaline. They laughed until their ribs hurt, until their bodies curled in toward each other like there wasn’t room to hold it all in.

“You’re crazy,” Gerard said breathlessly, still clutching his stomach from laughing too hard.

Frank shrugged. “Crazy for you, babe.”

“You just kissed me in front of witnesses, on school property. Are you trying to get expelled?”

“It was worth it.”

Gerard wiped at his eyes, still grinning. “But seriously, so you think we’ll actually get kicked out? Because… that was a gay kiss. A very public one.”

Frank leaned back on his elbows, cigarette long forgotten near their feet. “Please. I got caught smoking weed behind the chapel last year and all they made me do was write a two-page apology and say five Hail Marys.”

“You what?”

“Yeah.”

Gerard blinked, then dissolved into another fit of laughter.

Frank tilted his head toward him, smiling. “Relax. It’s just a kiss.”

“A gay kiss.”

Frank puckered his lips. “Wanna make it two?”

The next morning came far too quickly.

Sunlight dragged its way into the classroom like it was being punished for showing up, and both boys sat in their usual seats, barely pretending to pay attention. The teacher droned on at the front of the room, chalk tapping rhythmically against the board, but neither Frank nor Gerard were particularly focused on the finer points of 18th-century literature.

Gerard’s notebook lay open, completely blank save for a small doodle of a bat in the corner of the page.

Right by the end of the class, the door opened, one of the school’s monitors spoke in a clear voice, “Mr. Iero, the principal would like to see you in his office now.”

Frank stood up, passing by some boys whispering and making faces, Gerard guessed the word was already around, then. Frank didn’t even budge, hands in his pockets in his usual relaxed and cool manner, adjusting his messy black hair.

God, Gerard really was in love. But then he noticed the heaviness of the situation. What if they actually got in trouble for this? If there was something this institution hated more than lust was lustful gays.

In the hallway, Frank quietly accompanied the monitor. He wasn’t really scared, he just didn’t want to actually get into a fight with the principal about who he liked to kiss.

The hallway was quieter than usual, eerily so. Frank followed the monitor without much fuss, his footsteps casual despite the pit of unease that had started to grow in his stomach. Not fear, exactly. Just... an acute awareness that this could be the beginning of something complicated.

The monitor stopped at the familiar office door and knocked once before opening it. Frank stepped inside like routine. He’d been in this office enough times to know the exact number of ceiling tiles (twelve) and that the second chair on the left creaked if you leaned too far back.

The principal looked up from his desk with his usual calm demeanor. “Good morning, Mr. Iero,” he said evenly. “Please, have a seat.”

Frank did as instructed, adjusting his uniform jacket and subtly wiping his clammy palms against the legs of his trousers. He tried to appear nonchalant, but the faint creak of the chair under him felt louder than anything.

“I imagine you have an idea of why I’ve asked you here,” the principal began, fingers steepled on the desk.

Frank tilted his head slightly. “Actually, sir, I don’t.”

The principal’s lips twitched, maybe in irritation, though it was hard to tell.

“Very well,” he said. “It’s been reported, by several of your classmates, in fact, that you were seen... kissing another student. On school grounds.”

Frank didn’t even flinch. He just raised an eyebrow.

“With all due respect, sir, isn’t that a matter of personal choice? Something private?”

“In most circumstances, perhaps,” the principal replied. “But this is a Catholic institution. And public displays of affection, of any kind, are explicitly against the school’s conduct policy. You’ve been here long enough to know that.”

Frank nodded once. “Then I apologize for breaking that rule. It wasn’t exactly a well-planned display. The whole thing was more of a reaction to being publicly harassed, if I’m being honest.”

There was a pause.

“Frank.”

“Sir?”

The man sighed quietly, folding his hands together. “I know where you go to school. I know how certain things are dealt with around here. And I also know how students can twist words and moments into weapons.”

Frank sat up a little straighter.

“I’m not here to judge you,” the principal continued. “Nor am I interested in punishing you for something as personal, and frankly, as normal, as liking someone. That’s not what this is about.”

Frank blinked. Okay. That was... unexpected.

“What is important,” the man said, “is that you respect the boundaries of the school while you’re here. You’re free to be yourself inside these walls. But within them, I ask that you keep personal matters private, not because of what they are, but because of where they happen.”

Frank exhaled slowly. The tightness in his chest started to ease. Good, he wasn’t about to get expelled for being gay.

“I appreciate that, sir. Really. And I do understand, it just... happened fast. The guys who reported us were provoking me. They’ve been doing it for a while.

The principal’s expression darkened. “Yes. I’m aware. In fact, two of the students involved in that incident are currently facing expulsion.”

Frank blinked again. “Wait, really?”

“They’ve had a pattern of harassment with other students as well, and this was the final straw. You don’t need to worry about this anymore.”

Frank nodded, absorbing the weight of that. “Oh... okay. Thank you, sir.”

He was already about to stand up to leave when the principal spoke again.

“Frank.”

He turned.

“I always suspected you and Mr. Way were close,” he said, his tone softer. “But I didn’t know to what extent. I just want you to understand, you’re both respected here. Not just as students, but as people. And I want this school to be a place where you feel safe, not somewhere you have to hide.”

Frank’s lips parted slightly in surprise.

“If anything of this sort happens again, you come to me directly. I’ll handle it.”

And for the first time since stepping into that office, Frank smiled.

“Thank you, sir. That really means a lot.”

The older man smiled, frown lines softening. “You’re free to go, Mr. Iero.”

As Frank turned to leave, the principal nodded toward the window behind him. “Also, you’ve got someone waiting for you.”

Frank followed his gaze.

Outside, just across the hallway, stood Gerard, rigid with nerves, his hands gripping the straps of his backpack like they were holding him together. His eyes were wide and locked on the office door, shoulders hunched.

Frank stepped out looking… calm. Undramatically alive. No signs of fire or brimstone. No detention slip or security escort. Just Frank, with that trademark lopsided grin and hands shoved deep in his pockets like he hadn’t just been called in for kissing another boy.

Gerard blinked at him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice low.

Frank didn’t answer with words at first. Instead, he pulled Gerard into a hug, arms tight and reassuring. Gerard hesitated, but only for a second before melting into it.

Frank leaned close, his breath warm against Gerard’s ear. “I want to kiss you so bad right now.”

Gerard froze, already blushing.

“But,” Frank continued, ever so tragically dramatic, “we’re still technically on school grounds, and apparently that’s a crime now. So… in our room later?”

Gerard groaned. “God, you’re the worst.”

“Only a little,” Frank replied with a smirk, pulling back just enough to see his face. “But good news: we’re not getting expelled. The principal was shockingly chill about the whole thing. I think he might actually be… human?”

Gerard blinked again. “So we’re not in trouble?”

“Well. Not for being gay. Just for having bad timing and poor impulse control,” Frank shrugged. “But we’re good.”

Gerard let out a sigh so deep it could’ve echoed down the hall. “Oh thank God. I was already planning what to pack if they kicked us out.”

They lingered there for a moment, two boys who'd just narrowly escaped being sacrificial lambs.

Gerard looked at Frank, really looked at him, the ridiculous boy who kissed him in front of something as ridiculous as half of the croquet team, and had somehow made everything that came after feel okay. He hadn’t asked for that kind of reckless loyalty. But now that he had it, he didn’t really know how to imagine anything else.

“Hey,” Frank said suddenly, tapping the strap of Gerard’s backpack, “you know that thing you do when you get nervous? Like the little jaw clench and the shifting side to side?

Gerard squinted. “Yeah, kinda.”

Frank laughed. “It’s cute. Also, you’re doing that right now. Everything’s fine, ‘kay?”

“I get nervous for us.”

Frank grinned, and for once, he didn’t have a comeback. He just stood there, watching Gerard with something fond in his expression that he rarely let the world see. The bell rang from the distance, but neither of them moved.

“We should probably go to class,” Gerard mumbled.

Frank shook his head. “We just survived a near-death experience. I think we deserve a nap.”

Gerard raised a brow. “We have theology next.”

“Exactly! Let’s skip it in protest."

He grabbed Gerard’s hand and started walking, and this time, Gerard didn’t let go. The hallway was still mostly empty, but even if it hadn’t been, neither of them cared. For once, the silence between them didn’t feel nervous or uncertain, both of them felt like they earned it.

“You know,” Gerard said as they rounded the corner, “I never thought the end of our religious education arc would include you kissing me in front of your homophobic friends.

Frank laughed. “But it felt good, didn't it?”

“It did, but promise me we’ll never do a public make out protest again.”

Frank leaned in with a wicked grin. “Well, I can't promise you that.”

And with that, they disappeared down the hallway to their room, to kiss, and kiss some more, and pretend they were orcs or something. And then, maybe, a little more kissing.