I KNOW! TWO CHAPTERS IN ONE DAY! I'M ON A ROLL, PEOPLE! X) Enjoy!
- R.A.M.
Chapter Sixteen
Love the One you’re with
The air outside was suttle yet dense. Everything around me was in a tranquil state that left me with a happy grin on my face. The bitter mornings vanished leaving the scent of flowers in the air and the cool breeze that was just right for a stroll. I was happy for once, comfortable with where I was. I had never felt this way before, I wanted the feeling to stay with me, to stick itself to my body and never ever rub off. I needed this feeling. It was all Gerard’s doing. I was convinced. He had turned into something so much greater than just a friend. He was now a roll model I looked up to and learned from. I based my life off of his teaching and used them to bring me to the brighter side of things and avoid the dark dreariness of Jersey City. That’s what everyone needed, a break, a break from all the bad that circled around us all the time. Fuck, even the criminals needed a break at some point.
My strides were wide with confidence as I walked to Gerard’s apartment building. I possessed a jump to my step as I avoided confronting the weeds that grew ever taller, popping out of the grooves in the sidewalk. They still bugged me, they bugged Gerard, too. They weren’t ‘bad’ per say, they were just there, falling to the ground as the wind pushed them. They would be gone someday. I was sure of it, sure as hell.
I was comfortable enough now to just walk in without knocking on his door. The night before had been so perfect, a bond ignited the both of us and rockets flew in my stomach when he looked at me. I wasn’t sure what this feeling was. I did actually, but I sure didn’t want to admit it. Not now, not just yet. I fiddled with my feelings a lot. I would get all girly and start worrying about them and how they were affecting me. I would turn into a full on woman. I really didn’t want that! I was a man. I wanted to know my emotions when they happened. None of this bullshit about trying to figure it out for myself – that was for the opposite sex to worry about, I wanted to know what the hell I was feeling. My heart would always flutter when I saw Gerard walk into the room upon my arrival. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, at work, at home, in my fucking dreams he was there – helping me, staring at me. Whatever he wanted to do (like the unique artist that he was) he would be doing what he pleased.
I walked in and the first thing I saw was him standing in the middle of the room painting something. I realized I had never actually looked at him when he was in his creative mind set. I was always off doing something else in my own little world. But now as I walked in and made myself comfortable for the day, I got to look at him, and I mean really look at him. I noticed his eyes darting across the page; he didn’t even acknowledge my existence. I was in that world I still wasn’t allowed it. I was determined to fix that, though. I was going to gain entrance, and I couldn’t wait until that day came.
I sat on the couch. Gerard fingered with his paintbrush’s bristles and dipped it into some more paint. The skin on his left cheek twitched, I couldn’t help but giggle. Everything about him in that one single moment was perfect. His back was only hunched as much as it needed to in order to focus on what he was painting, his hair hung low in his face but it covered up only little sections, sectioning off his dazzling eyes for his one man audience, the width his legs were apart were perfect. He was stable, truly focused, truly paying attention to the little things. And maybe, I was one of those little things.
I brought my eyes away from him a noticed the floors, the ceiling, the walls. Everything was cleaned. There was not a trace of our paint flinging anywhere to be found in his apartment. How did he do it? It had crusted to ever surface. It was impossible make everything spotless again. I sucked in a little gasp, but that was enough to snap Gerard out of his zone and look to me. “What? Is something wrong?” I questioned after he studied my face. “No, uh, nothing’s wrong.” The way he looked at me, though, was a serious question. He wanted to know what was wrong. “Where’d all the paint go?” He smiled, turned back to his art. “Gone.” I tilted my head forward. “What?”
“It’s gone.” He repeated. I arched my back and stood up straight. It was gone.
Gerard had one of those painting pallets in his left hand; he held the brush in his right and created away. He didn’t slip back into his world quite as much, but I could tell as he narrowed his eyes that he was getting deeply into it. He was so calm when he noticed I was there. He must have heard me come in, or seen me. I examined him again, this time when he wasn’t completely engulfed by his work. Some things were different. His eyes were perplexed instead of relaxed, the distance between his feet were farther apart than they needed to be. He was different. I got up from the couch and walked over to him, placing my hand on his shoulder as first instinct. “You’re trying too hard.” My voice was hushed and smooth, like his usually is. He turned his head down, looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “You don’t have to go back, Gerard.” I added. His body tensed. I could feel it under my hold. “You don’t have to be there to be beautiful.” He tensed even more. His breath quickened and beat down on my face.
He knew he had his own world, but he went into it too often. He tried to go into it instead of gradually, naturally letting his mind and body take him there. He was forcing himself to be beautiful and make art, when really he was already beautiful and already creating the most breath taking art I have ever seen. He knew he had been caught in the act. I saw through him for the very first time and that felt good, I was getting better. I laughed at myself. Smiling on the outside but cracking up on the inside. His breath was still hard and warm again my skin.
I didn’t believe he was trying to be someone he’s not by drifting away by force. That wasn’t him; he was just trying to be true to himself and to me. I knew this. I knew it all, I don’t know how. It jut came to me suddenly and I understood only a tiny chuck of what was actually happening to him and I. We were partners against the world and we were trying to win with only two people, him and I. I had the feeling Gerard tried to recruit others the way he is recruiting me, but unlike the other, I was willing to go freely. Let him take me and take all that I have, as long as I save him. Nothing else matters. I wasn’t telling him these things out of pity, I actually cared. I can’t remember the last time I actually cared about someone so much. My heart throbbed for him. The feeling was unnatural; I didn’t think it had a name. Maybe it’s the feeling of truth. Gerard is beautiful, Gerard is an artist, Gerard is pure, wonderful, innocent. How could you lie to something like that? How could you leave something like that to rot away without giving it care? I was going to save him because we were partners. What exact kind? I wasn’t sure, and I really don’t give a shit. Gerard didn’t have to escape the real world and his flause to be beautiful. Gerard was already so, so, beautiful. He just needed to see that and I was going to help him.
My eyes were half open. I started to feel my heart pounding against my chest, every beat stronger than the last. The sticky hot breath still hit my face but I liked it, I wanted it to stay, just the feeling I had. It was all Gerard and I had to except that fucking fact. There was no hiding it anymore. After four days I was sure, I still didn’t want to admit it, but it was true. I –…
Gerard’s thin lips pressed against the tip of my nose. I squinted and crunched up my face then opened my eyes. He was fully turned around, now. Facing me with his palette and brush still in hand – he rubbed the brush into one of the colors, it was red, and dabbed it where he just kissed. I felt my face turn the color of the paint. Gerard let out a laugh that caused goose bumps. He brought his mouth to my nose again but this time licking off the red paint with his tongue. The goose bumps returned, cold chills shot through me Holy fuck was I turned on. I couldn’t believe it either. I was weak in the knees and trying to keep my eyes closed but all I wanted to do was look at Gerard, see him for the person he really was. I stood there and let him do whatever he wanted to me. He gently set down the brush and palette down, easing his way closer to me. I didn’t back up. I didn’t want to back up. I was there and was going to stay there. I was scared the day before, petrified even, but now I understood. Only a little bit but that was better than nothing. I kept my body still from shaking out of nervousness. I waited for Gerard to continue but I didn’t feel his touch. I opened my eyes and saw him staring at me with passion driven into the olive color. “Is this really what you want, Frank? Do you realize –,”
“Yes.” I said before he could talk for any longer. I didn’t want him to change my mind. I was set and ready. I didn’t care right then what the world would thin of me for any of this. I felt closer to Gerard than anyone I have ever met and I only met him four days ago. But four days ago seemed like enough, plenty of time to get to know a person. To learn their strengths, weaknesses, but it wasn’t enough. It was for us, though. It had to be – I was doing this because I wanted to. My mind needed to shut the fuck up about everything else. I was here with Gerard now. I didn’t want to imagine a world without him.
Although the evidence of our paint fight had disappeared and somehow had been erased from his floor and walls, the feeling was still there, implanted in our memories. That was the day I knew I could trust Gerard with my life. He would protect me from everything that wanted to hurt me. He was young like me, full of life and had so much meaning. He was like a book I couldn’t put down. I just wanted to keep reading and reading. The ink was a bit smeared but that was okay, people could fix that kind of thing. But, Gerard didn’t need fixing, he just needed someone to help him – or in his mine – save him. Either way you put it I was going to be there for him forever. I would do anything for him, just like he would do anything for me.
Before I could think of anything else I caught myself leaning in quickly and getting the initial shock over with. Our mouths come together, nothing more than that, though. He and I stood there in front of his canvas he had been painting on only moments earlier. Since his hands were free, they roamed around the small of my back. A place I had never been touched before but there was always a first for everything.
I was never gay, I never questioned it before. In high school, I was always positive that I wouldn’t stray in that direction. I didn’t think it suited me well, and I really never had the urge to drift to liking a man. It seemed awkward and weird – but as kissed Gerard then, too nervous to glide my hands across him, it wasn’t awkward at all. It was the most natural thing I have done in a long time. Maybe even in my whole life. I wasn’t okay with it yet. I knew it was going to take time. I needed to adjust. But Gerard was my soul. I could feel him sinking into me (literally and mentally.) His arms on my grew tighter. My fingertips were lightly at his hips. I still didn’t known what to do. But our mouths did. Opening and closing the gap between us. For a moment his tongue slid into mine but then he stopped, figuring it was too soon for that. I agreed but I would be lying if I said I didn’t like it. The chills remained on my body, along with Gerard’s hot breath, and the feeling that made me happy. I forgot about all my insecurities, finally saying to myself: ‘fuck this!’ and wrapping my arms around Gerard’s necking, having to stand up on my toes a little bit. Our kiss grew deeper and our breathing quickened. I couldn’t stop, I wouldn’t stop. I just wanted to stay here. In his apartment doing this. I felt so close to him, so secure and like I was home. Gerard whispered something between kisses, but every time I wasn’t able to understand him. I whispered back things. Not knowing what I was saying, myself. At one point I thought I heard him say “thank you” but wasn’t sure.
His spit tasted like smokes but there was no trace of beer. I was happy for that. I didn’t want to be reminded of that night. This moment was too precious to waste wondering over that. I felt so alive and so free. “Gerard,” I whispered in his ear after pulling away for a second. He pecked the side of my neck, “Don’t talk.” He uttered in a passionate tone. He brought his lips back to mine and silenced me. He shut me up because we were doing what the fuck we wanted to do. And damn it, we were enjoying every mouthful we could get of each other.
