(c) Holding His Hand Like a Brand New Kite [MA]

by **rock and/or roll** Wed 17 Sep 2008, 11:47 am

Title: Holding His Hand Like a Brand New Kite
Rating: MA
Author: Myself (Smashed Pumpkin)
Fandom: My Chemical Romance
Status: Chaptered; Incomplete
Summary/Exerpt:
A rather complicated love story. Frank has a crush on his best friend, Gerard. Gerard has his sights set on someone a little closer to home.

Warnings: slash, sex, incest, some swearing.

Note: Title is thanks to Becuz by Sonic Youth.
A big thank you to Sheepy for helping me with this story.

Holding His Hand Like a Brand New Kite: Chapter One

Stale cigarette smoke hung in the air, quite thick, and long overstaying its welcome. Frank watched lazily as a small fragile tendril of the toxin filtered from the cigarette between his fingers, curled upwards and was lost to the darkness of the room. Gerard’s room, Gerard’s bed, Gerard’s cigarettes. The packet lay crinkled on the small desk next to the bed; almost empty and folded in half. Quite characteristic of that time of day; cigarettes exchanged hands between small talk, light laughter and maybe even slight flirtations, until the cigarettes began to dwindle and no more conversation could be made.

And Frank liked it that way. He’d long known, and Gerard had too for that matter, that he was very much attracted to his friend, had a crush on him, liked him…however it was put, it meant the same thing. So, as natural as it was, he enjoyed spending time chilling out on Gerard’s bed, or inhaling his distinctive smell whilst Gerard fetched more food or videos or talked with his brother.

Gerard’s brother was another matter. He was nice enough when it suited him, but could also be blunt, arrogant and overtly sexual. A snottier version of Gerard was how Frank liked to describe him.

Frank rolled onto his side, stretched, flexed and sighed impatiently; restless and awaiting his friend’s return. The saggy mattress creaked and groaned under his small weight, prominent in the almost quiet; save for the undertones of music leaking from beneath a door up the hall. Muffled instrumentals reverberated off the walls of the neighbouring rooms. It grew louder for a second and died down once again, punctuated by the sharp closing of a door.

Small footfalls sounded up the hallway. Frank rolled over and looked up, seeing a dark figure slip through the door and close it quietly. Both greeted the other with a small smile, dark shadows lingering over the standing man’s pale face.

The figure made his way over to the bed, each footstep muffled by the thick fluffy carpet. Frank gladly moved up the bed, making space for his friend. But he was in for a surprise. In a seemingly expert way, Gerard crawled onto the bed and over Frank’s lower limbs, his legs pinning Frank on either side. Eyes locked to Gerard’s with confusion, but that was quickly changed to surprise as lips crashed to Frank’s with sloppy enthusiasm and haste. One hand clung to Frank’s thin t-shirt, the other tread whisper-soft up his thigh.

Forgetting all confusion and instead giving in to desire and overwhelming lust, Frank closed his eyes, voicing his appreciation through whimper-like moans. Gerard kissed the tender skin of his neck, over his jaw and back to his mouth. Frank, almost trembling at his actions, sank his fingers into Gerard’s hair. His other arm wrapped around the slender waist.

With that simple motion, Frank’s eyes opened and then widened.

“Shannon, what the fuck?” he spat, pushing the man off him.

“Dammit!” Shannon sat up, disgruntled and disappointed.

The small lamp beside the bed was quickly switched on and, through the haze as his eyes adjusted to the sudden burst of light, Frank saw an annoyed Shannon plonked on the end of the bed.

“How’d you know?” he muttered.

“Honey, I learnt how to tell you two apart ages ago,” Frank replied, rolling his eyes as he wiped at his mouth. Shannon’s saliva still invaded his taste buds.

“Oh yeah?” Shannon’s eyebrow rose. “How?”

“Nice try,” Frank snorted, to which Shannon scowled. “Where’s your better half?”

“Raiding the fridge.”

It was Shannon’s turn to roll his eyes as he got up from the bed and made his way to the door. As it creaked open, he almost collided with a shadowy figure about to enter, ice cream and spoons in hand. Shannon smirked and caught Gerard by the wrist. An almost visible shudder coursed through Gerard’s veins at his brother’s cool touch; he was forced to restrain a sigh as Shannon’s eyes looked him up and down. And just to make him squirm that little bit extra, Shannon licked up his cheek, tongue moist and deliciously warm.

“We were just talking about you,” he purred seductively, knowing it frustrated him oh so badly.

Gerard bit his tongue as Shannon pecked his lips and moved past him, out of the room and up the hall. The music once again increased in volume and then decreased with the snap of a door. Gerard sighed and joined Frank on his bed. The ice cream was soon open and both were lazily devouring it, sloppy noises sounding as they licked the spoons clean with each mouthful.

Frank watched Gerard as he ate. He was damn near identical to Shannon in appearance, bar a few details. But Shannon wanted to fuck Frank, Gerard didn’t. Frank wanted more than friendship, Gerard didn’t. Gerard wanted Shannon.

checked. chester.

by **rock and/or roll** Wed 17 Sep 2008, 11:48 am

Holding His Hand Like a Brand New Kite: Chapter Two

The two boys got comfortable on Gerard's bed as the last of the ice cream was scooped out of the depths of the tub. Small teeth sliced through the treat, the liquefied solid melting deliciously into the eager taste-buds that stood at attention for more of the creamy delight. The little cookie pieces stuck in the crevices of the gnashing bone, crumbly and sweet.

The empty quiet was perfect, leaving space and time to think, or to just float away with the darkness. Cigarette smoke still drifted here and there with the invisible air particles and the ice cream had left both boys' stomachs comfortably full and soothed. Frank, as was usual when he was in the other boy's presence, thought vaguely about Gerard.

But the quiet was invaded as a ruckus developed.

Frank sighed irritably as the sound of the younger of the Way trio’s voice, uncharacteristically high-pitched and banshee-esque, rattled the walls as it punctured the once calm silence. Mikey screamed at his older sibling to "Shut that music off, Shannon. I've got a big test tomorrow. And I'm trying to study, asshole."

Gerard groaned feebly and dropped his limp head back onto his pillow as the jarring squeak of an opening door sounded.

A distinctive gritty, grungy sound pierced the dense air, raw guitars, deep earthy vocals screeching out heartbreak, drug abuse, depression, upbeat drums, deep smooth bass. Shannon’s retort hung sharply in the thin silence, and Gerard glanced uneasily at Frank, unsure whether they should brace themselves for a heated argument from the two younger Way brothers. They usually co-existed peacefully, with the odd scuffle. But that was to be expected with siblings, especially testosterone-charged teenage time bombs just waiting to go off. And one always seemed to be the spark to light the other's fuse.

So, Gerard and Frank waited, ears alert to any sound that came from outside the room.

“Fuck off, Shannon,” Mikey could be heard spitting from outside Shannon’s open door.

“Hey, you’re the one outside my door, wise ass!” Shannon called back, annoyance starting to leak out from his vocal chords. “I like my music loud, you fucking know that. Why listen to music if it’s not loud?”

“Will you just kiss and make-up already?” Gerard called, rubbing at his forehead. All this arguing was starting to take its toll on his brain.

“I’m not kissing him,” Mikey replied, disgust radiating from his words.

“Not literally, dumb ass,” Shannon snorted. “Though...if you like...”

“Oh fuck off, go make-out with Gerard.”

“Already done that, my dear Michael.”

"You're disgusting."

An abnormally heavy padding of feet sounded against the wooden floorboards as Mikey stormed back to his bedroom. It was quickly followed by a door closing, not gentle but not too forceful either.

Gerard turned on his side to face Frank, a small grin now taking over the older boy's face. Within a few hours, it was a sure thing that Shannon and Mikey would be over the whole fiasco. In a matter of minutes, the two could go from being each other's worst nightmare to bosom buddies. And Frank wasn't at all fazed by these two-way tantrums; he'd long since learned that it wasn't necessary to feel awkward whenever any two, or possibly three, of the siblings argued.

"Gee-rard!"

A black-haired somebody stuck their pale face around the door which had been left slightly ajar. Gerard swallowed, his mouth slowly losing moisture as all traces of saliva and dairy products seemed to evaporate into the air that reeked so much of cigarette smoke.

The younger of the Way twins entered the room without invitation. He once more crawled up the bed without invitation but, although it too was without invitation, the very suggestive position Gerard found himself in was anything but unwanted. Shannon sat over him, bear-trap vicious kneecaps jabbing into the soft flesh of Gerard's thighs, and one hand firmly gripping the laying boy's shoulder.

"Thought I'd take Mikey's suggestion into consideration..."

Without even allowing Gerard a chance to protest, not that he would, Shannon went straight for the helpless boy's lips, which were almost shimmering with lingering moisture, just waiting to be savaged. A skilled, yet sloppy tongue slipped easily into the awaiting mouth and small, almost sticky noises joined the cigarette smoke in the air. Frank stared aimlessly at the ceiling, not particularly wanting to witness his crush making out with someone else, especially not someone so brash as Shannon.

The kiss lasted for a reasonable amount of time, but once both boys had finished with their over sweet display of affection, Shannon broke away. A coy smile took over his features that so resembled Gerard's. But Gerard's face held slight satisfaction, if not a hint of frustration and embarrassment at being so easily swayed.

Shannon crawled off the bed and stepped lightly across the room. He made sure to give Gerard a lingering glance, ensuring that his head was the last thing to disappear behind the door, the ebony black hair reflecting the little light being cast by the lamp.

"He's such a fucking asshole," Frank muttered bitterly.

"Huh?"

Gerard's fragile dreamworld was subtly cracked and he turned on his side to see Frank roll his eyes at the older boy's vague, yet pleased expression. Frank pulled himself up into a sitting position, legs crossed neatly, and eyed Gerard with an utmost sarcastic air.

"Your brother...he's a complete asshole," he said, making sure to pronounce each word clearly.

"Why?" Gerard's brow furrowed. "What's he done?"

"He..." Frank looked down, now slightly embarrassed. "He pretended to be you so...I'd make out with him."

Gerard had to fight back a small smile at that. "I'll try to talk to him about it," he said reassuringly.

by **rock and/or roll** Wed 17 Sep 2008, 11:49 am

Holding His Hand Like a Brand New Kite: Chapter Three

The younger Way twin was making toast in the brightly lit kitchen when Gerard approached him. Shannon hummed loudly to himself, rummaging through the cutlery drawer for a butter knife. Gerard had to mentally slap himself several times as his eyes travelled down Shannon’s slim figure and stopped firmly on his ass, which was defined even further as he bent over. Not that Gerard hadn’t touched it before; an occasional brush of the hand would be presented as an accident, but by the smirk and raised eyebrow that always followed in response, it was obvious that Shannon knew better. And it’d be a complete and utter lie if he denied that he loved the attention.

“I need to talk to you.”

Shannon straightened up and turned slowly, a wide grin coming over his face. The butter knife had been sitting loosely in his grip, but he let it fall with a metallic clatter onto the counter top as he surveyed Gerard. The older boy licked his lips, remembering the feeling of having him so close and doing incredible things with that tongue of his. It was ironic really, that a tongue able to work such pleasurable magic could also spit such toxic words.

With movements that could put even the most accomplished stripper to shame, Shannon strutted over.

“What about?” he asked in a low voice, fingers planting themselves onto Gerard’s hip.

“Frank just told me what you did,” Gerard replied, trying to keep a hold of himself, but it was proving difficult as Shannon let his fingers dance along his hipbone, “and it made him uncomfortable.”

“Is that all?” Shannon asked, disinterested. And he’d thought Gerard wanted to play.

Gerard took a step back, far enough away so that Shannon couldn’t distract him with his soft hands. “What do you mean ‘is that all?’” he asked, frowning. “You used our appearance to trick him, and made him feel stupid. I want you to apologize... and mean it.”

Shannon laughed, a low quiet laugh, but it sounded sinister in the silence of the kitchen. It seemed to ruffle the invisible air molecules that presented themselves between the two. He stepped closer to Gerard again, almost prowling as if ready to pounce and tear through Gerard’s oesophagus. But instead, his footfalls stopped and he stood with his stomach pressing lightly against the older boy’s, a wicked smirk curling his lips.

“What about Tammy?” he asked, voice silky. “Does she know about what you asked me to do?”

Gerard gulped and glanced away. He knew he couldn’t gloss over the situation much longer. For, the three other boys occupying the house at that moment may have been aware that Gerard was gay...but that didn’t mean the rest of the world knew. And one sweet, yet utterly clueless Tamara Green had stumbled unknowingly into the complicated situation. “I’m going to tell her.”

“When?”

“When the time’s right,” Gerard protested, praying for his body to remain calm.

Shannon snorted. “When she walks in on you sucking some guy off, you mean?”

Gerard was silent. He didn’t have an elaborate plan that he was going to put into action. He didn’t know the words he’d use in a futile attempt to save Tammy’s feelings. And most of all, he didn’t know how to let those three small words out of his mouth; I am gay.

Both boys just stared at each other in the sudden silence. Shannon’s eyes almost cut through Gerard’s like the blade of a rusted dagger, but Gerard never broke the contact. So much could be said with just the eyes alone.

“I won’t tell her, if you give me what I want.”

Nearby, the toast popped jovially out of the toaster, now a pleasant and warm brown, but neither boy even flinched at the sudden interruption to their tense silence. All focus was on the other.

“Frank doesn’t like you,” Gerard responded voice soft but still filled with venom. “Would you just let it go?”

“Oh?” Shannon’s eyes became wide as he stared mockingly. “What makes you think I meant Frank?”

Gerard’s eyebrows furrowed together, at a loss as to what Shannon was talking about. But his eyes soon widened as a mouth covered his own and a hand darted out to squeeze at the meat of his ass. But Shannon couldn’t possibly mean-

“Are you going to give me what I want?” a low voice asked in Gerard’s ear. That perfect tongue slid out and stroked his earlobe and probed the shell, before retreating. The very feel of it made Gerard shiver involuntarily. Oh, the things Shannon could do with that tongue...

“You give me what I want-” Shannon gripped Gerard’s hip with his soft fingers, “and your little Tammy will remain perfectly clueless.”

Gerard’s every sense was going completely crazy. All moisture from his mouth had drained and resurfaced in the palms of his hands, sweat seeping out of the pores, and he was sure his heart had sped up by a few beats. This was it. This was the moment. Hadn’t he fantasised about this very moment for such a long, long time? But with Shannon looking at him so expectantly, that piercing gaze slicing Gerard up into fragile ribbons, his parched mouth fought to reply.

“N-no,” he said softly, a slight stutter laced with uncertainty interrupting his words. “I can’t...we can’t...”

“You’re afraid...aren’t you?” Shannon asked, an evil smirk transforming his face.

“Not afraid,” Gerard protested, pushing Shannon’s hands away from him. “Just cautious. What if Mikey found out? What if Frank...and what if our parents...?”

Shannon sighed moodily and backed a step away from Gerard, clearly grumpy that his advances had been denied...for now at least. Oh, Gerard was fine with the touches and even the kisses but for now, sex with Shannon was to remain a fantasy. He wanted it to be right; at the right time, at the right place. Shannon turned and made his way back to the toast he’d been preparing. Without even a glance over his shoulder he spoke in his low seductive voice.

“The offer still stands.”

Gerard, still mulling over what he had just denied and the possibility of Tammy finding out everything, exited the kitchen. But not without a backwards glance at Shannon’s slender form, ass still nicely defined in his tight jeans.

by **rock and/or roll** Wed 17 Sep 2008, 11:49 am

Holding His Hand Like a Brand New Kite: Chapter Four

She wasn’t supposed to make him feel this way. She was supposed to make his heart beat faster (though Shannon’s presence did), his skin tingle (Shannon’s touch did) and knees feel a little weaker (Shannon’s kisses did). Tammy made him laugh and he could be happy with her company, but not in that special way that one should be with their partner. Gerard stared in front of him, eyes drilling a hole through the patchy front lawn, while he was really focusing on nothing in particular. A few cans of Coke lay to his side, one with its ring pulled off thanks to Gerard’s wandering hands.

He was so lost and drowning in negative thoughts that it took him a moment to notice the brunette-haired figure of Tamara Green stroll around the street corner. Her small hands were tucked into the large pockets on her purple and black striped jacket as she walked, steps light to match her frame. The slight breeze played with her hair, picking it up and throwing it around her face as she walked, making it seem like ragged strips of material. Her eyes looked up from the sidewalk and landed on Gerard, instantly crinkling upwards upon seeing him sat outside the front of his house. He let a smile light up his face, almost a mirror image of hers. But if one was to zoom in and take a closer look, they’d see that it wasn’t as genuine and his lips were slightly strained; the same lips that disliked having Tammy’s all over them, and pined for Shannon’s warm tongue, sliding and caressing, controlling yet desirably so.

The images of a smirking Shannon were reluctantly forced out of his mind, but it could be counted on that they’d be revisited later that night, whilst Gerard was alone in his room. Tammy deserved better. And no, he wasn’t just thinking that to make him come off as less of a villain. He’d gotten himself into trouble before, but the days of a trembling lip and a childish squeal of an apology were long over. As if a plain sorry could really make up for this. You can’t play with fire and expect not to get burnt, and you can’t play with hearts and expect not to break them.

“Hey.” Tammy greeted him cheerfully, and made her way over to the steps where Gerard was sitting.

“Hi,” Gerard replied, attempting to bring his voice up to the same level of enthusiasm that echoed through Tammy’s. He smiled sweetly at her as she sat down beside him.

The shiny metal embedded above her upper lip shone in the lessening light of the afternoon. That Saturday had been a mismatch of different events, none terribly exciting or terribly horrible. Gerard went to work at Barnes and Noble and called Frank when he arrived back home, so the two could talk for over an hour. In between bouts of Frank detailing what homework he had due the next week and a new song he’d learnt on guitar, Gerard told him about work and apologised more than once for Shannon’s antics.

“It’s peaceful out here,” Tammy commented, candy floss lips smiling lightly. She pointed up to a nearby tree, whose leaves were swaying in a gentle dance to an unheard tune.

Gerard followed her gaze and nodded, appreciative of her eye for natural beauty. And pleased that she hadn’t attacked him with her baby-pink coloured in lips. She wasn’t one for lots and lots of affection, and hadn’t (thank god) given Gerard a sick-inducing pet name. No. It was always Gerard or Gee. And since his family called him Gee a lot of the time, it was just a normal nickname. Not a name that Tammy would whine out, teamed with fluttering her eyelashes like a bird in flight. She wasn’t like that; it’d be easier to break it off with her if she was a whining, manipulative scarlet woman, but Tammy was none of the above.

“What’ve you been up to today?” Gerard asked casually. He picked up a can of Coke and handed it to her silently, and she took it with a nod of thanks.

“I babysat the Gordon sisters again,” she replied, shrugging and drawing invisible lines into the metallic can with her thumb nail. “The younger one still acts like she’s got ADHD and wouldn’t sit still, even when I put The Little Mermaid on...but it was seven dollars an hour, so worth it, I reckon.” She looked up at Gerard. “What about you?”

“Work.” Gerard ran a hand through his hair. “And I talked to Frank for a bit.”

“He still have a crush on you?”

“Huh?” Gerard looked up at Tammy, a bit startled.

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” Tammy grinned. “It’s kinda sweet.”

Gerard was silent for a bit, looking out to the street and picking at his fingernail. The breeze had become gentler and the sun was slowly drooping in the sky.

“You should hook him up with Shannon.”

“No way.” Gerard turned back to look at her, decision already evident in his eyes. “Frank hates him.”

“Hey, just a thought,” she shrugged. “But really, Shannon needs to get laid. He keeps looking at me funny.”

Gerard bit his lip and turned his gaze away from her. It was clear in his absent eyes that he knew exactly why Shannon gave her those looks whenever she visited Gerard.

“Come on.” Gerard stood up and offered his hand to her. “Let’s go inside.”

She grabbed onto his hand and helped as he hoisted her up off the steps. Both ventured through the already open front door, the polish that was almost completely worn off the wood shining slightly in the light. The insides of the house were dark and dank, glossing over any dust or imperfections that lingered in the walls or floor. Mikey was sat on the couch in the lounge room, eyes fixated to the glowing television screen as some cartoon was playing.

“Hey Mikey,” Tammy greeted.

Mikey turned briefly and muttered a “Hey Tammy,” in response. He felt awkward in her presence, knowing Gerard’s true sexuality, but not having the nerve or heart to actually tell her. No, that was Gerard’s responsibility. Mikey turned back to the screen as the two left the room. Gerard led Tammy into the hall that branched out to the three Way brothers’ rooms; Gerard’s being the furthest away, Mikey’s the closest and Shannon’s in the middle.

The two found Shannon lying on his stomach, sprawled across Gerard’s bed when they entered the room. A slightly crinkled comic was propped open with one of his hands, and he was reading casually, legs bent at the knee and crossed in the air. He glanced up as he noticed the presence of other living beings in the room, and a slight smirk flitted across his face; his signature facial expression. Gerard looked to Tammy, avoiding Shannon’s glance, and saw her look up to the ceiling for a split second, almost as though she’d begun rolling her pretty chocolate eyes but stopped half way. The Coke was still in her hand, and Gerard could hear the faint sound of fingernails on metal as she tapped the aluminium, waiting for someone to say something.

“Hello you lovebirds,” Shannon said, smiling too sweetly, almost sickly sweet. “Don’t you two just make the most adorable couple?”

“Hi Shannon,” Tammy replied politely. “What’re you reading?”

“Batman.”

He climbed up off the bed, walked up to Gerard and handed him the comic, pushing it against his chest. Gerard could have sworn he felt the tip of one of Shannon’s fingers seek out the location of his nipple, and it almost made him blush.

“I’m going to watch TV with Mikey,” he announced, pushing through the couple and walking towards the door. “Neither of you get pregnant now. I’ve got condoms in my desk drawer if anyone needs them.”

“Shannon,” Gerard warned, face dark.

“What?” he asked, pretending to be oblivious. “I’m just saying, that...hypothetically, if you guys wanted to get it on, that they’re there.” He left the room, muttering, “Geez, I’m just trying to be helpful.”

Tammy looked disbelievingly after the younger twin, before turning back to Gerard. They stood in an awkward silence for a moment, Tammy stuffing her hands back in her pockets. Gerard was still staring at the space where Shannon had just been standing, unsure whether he wanted to slap him or kiss him.

“Maybe we should go back to my place,” Tammy suggested.

Gerard couldn’t help but notice a twinkle in her eyes as he glanced at her. He knew exactly what that look meant; her eyes were alive as fire crackers, and he realised that Shannon’s words had put certain ideas in her head.

“Uh...sure, yeah,” Gerard muttered, mind going through possible outcomes for this situation. “Just, let me go talk to Shannon.”

He left Tammy in his room as he hurried down the hall and into the lounge room. Mikey and Shannon were both sat comfortably on the couch, the latter with his head rested on Mikey’s shoulder, but Mikey either wasn’t bothered or was too engrossed in the flashing box to care. Gerard took hold of Shannon’s arm and tugged.

“What the hell?” Shannon yelped as Gerard pulled him off the couch.

“Dude, shhh,” Mikey hushed, glancing from the screen.

“I need to talk to you,” Gerard said urgently. “Come on.”

Shannon just raised an eyebrow and followed Gerard down the hallway and into Shannon’s room. Gerard made sure to close and lock the door and turned to face his twin. He’d taken a seat on his bed, black shoes tapping against the tiger print carpet, waiting for Gerard to spill about whatever it was that was making him look so anxious.

“So, are you gonna talk, or just stand there looking all shifty?” Shannon asked.

Gerard contemplated for a moment, hands fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt, before going to sit down next to Shannon, making the bed dip slightly. He finally opened his mouth.

It was a few minutes later that the pair departed the room, one to the lounge room to enjoy cartoons, and the other back to Tammy.

by **rock and/or roll** Wed 17 Sep 2008, 11:51 am

Holding His Hand Like a Brand New Kite: Chapter Five

Night came crawling at a snail’s pace for Gerard. From the moment Shannon, his not-so-occasional-alter-ego had left Gerard-style, he’d been keeping up the charade as best he could. He loved charades as a kid, but playing it with real life situations wasn’t nearly as fun. It unsettled his stomach and it felt as if the tide had definitely turned within him. Gerard pressed the tips of his fingers gently against the closed lids of his eyes. He almost hoped that he’d press just a little bit too hard and cause some kind of damage to his retinas, so he could be driven in a mad rush to the nearest hospital. Able to escape having to see the self-satisfied smirk on Shannon’s face when he would enter the elder twin’s room. Because he would. He did the last time, just to blurt out details that any respectable boyfriend would keep private.

Respectable and Shannon didn’t belong in the same sentence, let along in perfect succession. Gerard sometimes wondered jokingly if Shannon actually knew what a conscience was. He’d obsessed quite loyally over the Disney adaption of Pinocchio as a mere child, attempting to mimic the voice of Jiminy Cricket. Gerard could imagine a small green insect chirping into Shannon’s unresponsive ear, attempting to direct him between right and wrong. Quite ironic that such a free spirited and reckless soul would worship a film about a puppet. Shannon was anything but a puppet. A sometimes irresponsible, often flirty “fuck you” sort of guy, but not a puppet. He’d cut those strings long ago.

Gerard was on edge. His hands felt as if they were on the verge of breaking out into uncontrollable shakes. His heart felt weaker and seemed to be pounding faster. It wasn’t unusual. If anything, this jittery feeling had been present in varying volumes since he’d first agreed to take Tammy out on a date. Technically, it’d been “just as friends” but Gerard had known it’d end differently. He did nothing to stop the situation from escalating from manageable to almost unbearable.

Just as he’d predicted, a black-haired head poked around the edge of his door, a smile lingering almost manically on those kiss swollen lips. Gerard just nodded and Shannon stepped into the room, closing the door behind him to keep any words from earshot of others. No doubt, he wanted to dish out every single detail on a shiny silver platter.

It was a winwinlose situation. And there wasn’t any doubt about who had lost.

“You remember our little deal,” Shannon said lowly, slinking onto Gerard’s bed.

Their thighs touched, deliberately of course. Gerard was reminded of that one particular October 31st not so long ago, an unforgettable Halloween etched into his mind’s eye. Smiling pumpkin orange cellophane stuck over the windows to cast the insides of the house into an eerie Autumn flavoured glow. Caramel coated popcorn, poprocks and small packages of sherbet sat in a Tupperware container, situated perfectly next to the front door, a delicious concoction waiting to be devoured by youngsters decked out in ghastly shades. The twins and the birthday boy amused themselves with glowsticks in the front yard of the Way household, waiting for the youngest Way to join them. The sticks of light sliced through the steadily darkening sky as the three boys waved them, writing their names into the night, and leaving their imprint into the shadows.

An ivory-toothed vampire grinned at Gerard from behind a streak of neon yellow, and there was something about that grin. Predator/prey. It oozed determination, yet was sexual in nature as Shannon caught Gerard’s eye. And it was that same look, that same look that the boy sitting across from him gave him now. It was a delicious cocktail of sex and sin and thirst and passion. His eyes screamed out to Gerard like the wheels of a braking car skidding across bitumen, as Shannon stood, a coal-haired Medusa, gaze beckoning.

Gerard failed to reply. His vocal chords didn’t want to go to the effort when the answer was so plainly obvious. Scenarios played out constantly in his thoughts, even in his subconscious sometimes. He was the misbehaved student, the sickly patient. He was alone in his room with the lights turned off. And that scenario wasn’t far off from the truth.

He glanced away from Shannon for a moment, almost burnt by the light dancing in his eyes. When he looked back, Shannon was grinning, teeth on display and for one moment, he was back in that front yard. He was the vampire with the glowing wand and the lustful glance. No, Gerard countered, he resembled a shark. A great white shark about to strike and take a fatal bite out of its victim.

“It applies even more now,” Shannon went on, licking over his bottom lip. “’Cause seeing as I did you a favour-”

“A favour?” Gerard snorted sarcastically, finally able to speak. “What the fuck is wrong with you? She’s my fucking girlfriend, Shannon. It’d kill her if she found out. Are you really that fucking insensitive?”

The corners of Shannon’s mouth dropped for a second as he surveyed the annoyed expression on Gerard’s face. The spoilt brat inside him hadn’t been overpowered by age quite yet and he was so accustomed to using his moves, his looks to win over the affections of others and get what he wanted. His expression flickered, like the flame of a candle caught in a gentle breeze, but he soon regained all swagger and a small smile.

“I find it hypocritical that you’d call me the insensitive one when you asked me... you fucking asked me to do this,” he replied, a sharp bite to his voice. “I mean, come on. If you’re going to blame me, have the fucking balls to take some of the blame too.”

“It’s complicated, isn’t it,” Gerard sighed, dropping his head.

“Right,” Shannon replied, rolling his eyes. “Tell Tammy that when she finds out and I’m sure she’ll understand.”

Gerard didn’t answer, just kept his head down, but raised his gaze. His face harboured that look that misbehaved dogs sported on their furry snouts. Head down but eyes raised, puppy wide and sparkling with misconstrued innocence. But he wasn’t innocent. Shannon was the notorious “bad boy” Way, but that didn’t mean Gerard had a clean record.

“I suppose you want to tell me all the juicy details,” he muttered.

He looked down again, not wanting to listen, not wanting to know. He was the source of the dastardly situation and the web of lies extended and multiplied, crisscrossing over pre-existing layers with every day that he kept his silence. But he didn’t want to hear the consequences of his actions. Partially out of shame, and partially out of jealousy.

“Well, I put my dick in her pussy,” Shannon replied, looking bored. “Is that juicy enough for you?”

Gerard almost laughed bitterly at the remark, but managed to stifle it before it broke out of his mouth. Trust Shannon to be so blunt.

“You better have used protection,” he said, head snapping up as the thought hit him like a steam train. “If you didn’t, I’ll fucking slap you.”

“You sure know how to turn a guy on, Gee.” Shannon raised an eyebrow. “I’m almost tempted to say no now.”

Gerard took that as a yes, and he knew Tammy was on the pill, so his frantic heart slowed down significantly and he sank back into his pillows. Relief flooded his veins, almost as plentiful as the blood cells that spread through his body. Shannon looked down at him, sprawled out comfortably on the bed, tight pants clinging to the soft curves of his legs, t-shirt flattened from gravity and outlining his chest as it rose and fell with his steadied breathing. And he unconsciously licked his lips, making them slick with saliva.

“Your fuck buddy coming over tonight?” Shannon asked, breaking the silence that’d descended upon them.

“What?” Gerard sat up and brushed his hair behind his ear.

“Is Frank coming over tonight?”

Gerard sighed, letting out a stream of hot air that tickled at his lips. He didn’t bother correcting Shannon’s provocative title for his friend, even though it irked him.

“Yeah, he is,” he replied. He could almost anticipate the exact second that Shannon’s smirk crawled back onto his face. “Stay out of his way for a bit, will you? I don’t want you to scare him away.”

“Nothing wrong with being friendly,” Shannon retorted. “And I think it’d take more than my tongue down his throat to scare him away from you. He worships you like some fucking god or something.”

Gerard rolled his eyes, the hazel orbs of colour moving like marbles. He climbed off the bed and stood before his still sitting twin. Shannon crossed his legs at the ankle bones and spread his hands out on Gerard’s blankets, looking almost bored.

“I know you can’t grasp the concept of ‘friend’ minus ‘with benefits’ straight after it, but I don’t like Frank in that way. I want to make that clear,” Gerard said firmly, eyes blazing at Shannon like the high beam headlights of a truck.

“Whatever,” the younger drawled. “Save me the lecture, please.”

Gerard narrowed his eyes slightly as Shannon stared back, eyes dulled by boredom. The elder eventually nodded, pushing back the black liquorice strands of hair that fell into his face as he did so. He had to be lenient sometimes, he had to be understanding that this was Shannon, and without his out there and occasionally overbearing personality, his sexual nature, his quirks, he’d be Gerard’s clone inside and out. Gerard extended a hand in what seemed to be a call for a temporary truce, the other took it in his with a trademark smirk and Gerard pulled him to his feet. As the two left Gerard’s room with the slight thump of a door to mark their exit, the smell of dinner cooking probed their nostrils and Shannon muttered, “We’ve really got to get you laid, Gerard.”

by **rock and/or roll** Wed 17 Sep 2008, 11:51 am

Holding His Hand Like a Brand New Kite: Chapter Six

Dinner was set out casually on the large dining table when Gerard and Shannon entered. The old oak was worn in some places, the polish weathered and showing the grainy texture of the wood beneath. A homely and familiar picture; the setting for many past dinners shared under the brilliant light of the overhead bulb hanging from the ceiling inside an inky blue lampshade. Steam was rising like the mist of a stagnant swamp above a modest feast of pasta curled into spirals, steamed cucumbers, finely sliced carrots, capsicum and turkey. Glasses that were slightly fogged over sat to the left of each place mat, all filled with chilled water and slowly melting ice cubes.

Gerard slid into his usual seat at the table and got comfortable as Shannon took the seat next to him. And, as was also usual, he couldn’t help but notice the little specific movements that Shannon made; the grace with which he tucked his lengthy hair away from his mouth and behind his ear or the elegance in which his ass scraped across the cushiony seat, whether subconscious or deliberately planned to make the eyes pop out of his head and drool to flood the entire kitchen. Gerard may have just let his eyes linger longer, if he hadn’t of been acutely aware of the presence of his parents. Mr and Mrs Way took their seats opposite their sons, joining the twosome as they waited for the youngest of the Way clan to emerge from his room.

Their mother nodded at Gerard and gestured to the small stack of plates, next to Gerard’s elbow.

“Could you pass over some plates, please Shannon?”

His response was a sigh and, “It’s Gerard, mom.”

She started and looked back and forth between the two; two sets of eyes that radiated the same colour stared back at her, almost amused. Shannon twiddled his thumbs in a gross caricature of boredom as he waited for the light bulb to switch on above his mother’s head. And -

“Oh sorry, Gerard. You’re wearing Shannon’s favourite jacket, is all.”

He froze for a split second, his face setting like the broken reel of a film and looked down at the clothing that covered his torso. A black denim jacket with orange wrist cuffs, buttons and stitching met his eyes, not his choice of colour; he’d have picked the all black one.

“Oh, right.” He swallowed. “Um, he let me borrow it just for today.”

Their mother nodded, mouthing a small ‘oh’. She took the plates that Shannon had been waving by the sidelines and handed one to her husband.

“You boys thought about changing your, uh, looks up a little?” their father asked, dragging the metallic bowl of steaming vegetables towards him. “It’d make it a lot easier for us and that poor girl of yours, Gerard.”

Shannon’s head turned instinctively to Gerard, eerily reminiscent of a wide-mouthed fairground clown as it did so. Just as creepily slow-paced, the bones of his vertebrae working against each other as the jagged metal teeth of mechanical wheels move in unison to work a powerful machine. He smiled what was really a smirk, and rested his pale cheek on his curled hand, looking up at Gerard through his eyelashes.

“I think dad has a point,” he stated, raising an amused eyebrow. “It’d be so awkward if Tammy mixed the two of us up, wouldn’t it Gerard. Can you imagine what that’d be like?”

Gerard just glanced without visible emotion into Shannon’s eager face. He had a wide smile that, on occasion, mirrored his own, but it wasn’t as simple and pretty; it was the almost manic grin of a circus clown. He wanted to stir the pot and see the insides of it tremble.

“It’s a…twin thing, dad.” Gerard cleared his throat, softly and politely as he shifted in his chair. “It’s just our thing…But besides, it’s not all that hard to tell who’s who. Shannon has the big mouth and no tact.”

Shannon ignored the comment and bit his lip in thought. “It’d be cool to have, like, a bit of red in my hair, I think. Not completely red, just a bit…and Gerard should just cut his off completely.” He turned to the other boy and smiled sweetly, extending a hand to ruffle his hair. “We can’t see that pretty little face otherwise.”

Gerard scrunched up his nose, a twisted replica of a smile curling his mouth as Shannon let their gaze meet for a brief but important moment. The eye-contact was never empty. It was always saying something, alluding to something that couldn’t be voiced in front of their parents. You look hot in my jacket.

“Not too short,” their mother interjected, breaking the fragile moment. Shannon looked away and picked up his fork. “You have lovely hair, both of you.”

“When’s Mikey going to crawl out of his hole so we can gorge ourselves already?” Shannon quipped, tapping his fork against the ceramic plate. “And where’s your kid friend, Gee?”

Gerard let out a sigh. “He’s not a kid.”

“He’s seventeen,” Shannon replied, pointedly.

“Exactly. Teen, Shannon. Seventeen,” Gerard said irritably. “And stop doing that. Put the fork down.”

“You’re not my mom.” He let the prongs of his fork crash back against the plate with a metallic clatter.

“Shannon, put the fork down,” their mother requested, preventing a potential squabble between the two.

“Fine,” he huffed. The tapping stopped and he crossed his arms with boredom across Gerard’s t-shirt.

It was a few minutes later before Mikey entered the kitchen, choosing to ignore Shannon’s reproachful glare as he took the seat at the end of the table. He went about his business quaintly, taking a plate given to him by Gerard and spooning vegetables onto the circular surface; a clash of orange, green and red of different textures created a delicious smelling shambolic mess.

“You took your time,” Shannon muttered.

Mikey glanced up at him, his arm outstretched and fingers loosely grasping the large spoon that was dipped into the bowl. The irked boy was watching him move slowly, too slowly for Shannon’s liking. Nobody was even allowed to lick their food until every family member had a substantial mound of sustenance gracing their plate. Mikey let the spoon drop against the side and retracted his arm.

“I was finishing an essay that’s due soon,” he said confidently. “I mean, sorry if me taking my education seriously is inconvenient for you.”

“It is,” Shannon replied, nonchalantly. “Why can’t you just do your homework the night before like everybody else? I stood by that principle.”

“And you failed Calculus,” Mikey pointed out.

“But I got the top grade in my history class,” came the smug reply. “And who cares about Maths anyway?”

His hand made a sharp motion, as if he meant to pick up the discarded piece of cutlery and tatptaptap, that irritating metallic clanging inside eardrums again. But he stopped halfway. If there ever was a woman who he’d listen to, it was his mother. Quite begrudgingly so, but he listened all the same. Instead, he occupied himself by piling turkey onto his plate. In turn, Mikey simply ignored his brother’s reply and tucked into his food, jabbing at the carrot pieces with more aggression than was needed. It wouldn’t be a lie to say that Shannon had a knack for pushing people’s buttons. But rather than let the bitchy sentences escalate into an argument, the family fell silent as talk was suddenly sucked from the room, and the other three took turns with the large spoon, covering the plates to their liking.

Gerard was almost halfway through his meal, a slice of cucumber pierced on his fork, when there was the rapping of knuckles against the old wood of the front door. He dropped his fork lightly, pushed back in his chair and rose, ignoring Shannon’s mumble of ’booty call’ as he left the kitchen.

by **rock and/or roll** Wed 17 Sep 2008, 11:52 am

Holding His Hand Like a Brand New Kite: Chapter Seven

The lounge room was occupied by four relaxing boys as nine o’clock crept around. Frank was sitting on the indigo carpet, jeans-clad legs spread out in front of him and a carton of take-away noodles situated neatly in between them. Donna had already fussed over him when he’d arrived with the cardboard carton, insisting that they’d had plenty of vegetables left over from dinner. But he hadn’t wanted to impose.

A wandering foot crept near his thigh, but he swatted it away with the hand that wasn’t occupied with a fork. The owner of the Converse-covered foot was seated on the couch to Frank’s right, perfectly situated to face the old battered television. His look-a-like was squished next to him and Mikey was the third, looking like three sardines stuffed in a tin. There was something sexual in the way that Shannon’s hand rested casually on Gerard’s hip, no matter how innocent it may have seemed on the outside. Nimble fingers walked under his shirt and traced at the soft skin there. Shannon was watching the boy eat, noodles flicking sauce onto his face as he slurped them hungrily. Frank sure had a way of working that mouth of his, contorted into a hollow tunnel for the noodles to pass through.

“You’ve got sauce on your chin,” Shannon pointed out as he leant forward and stuck out his tongue. “Here, let me-”

“Fuck off, or this fork is going to be put to some other use,” Frank cut in dangerously, holding up the metal implement so it glinted in the light from overhead.

“Kinky bastard.” He smirked and settled back into the couch, back into Gerard’s presence, his hand growing bolder by the minute as he allowed his fingers to trace the hem of his brother’s pants. And Gerard pretended not to notice. But Shannon knew better. He knew how to read lust, desperation, all those emotions characterised in Gerard’s stiff posture, clearly aware of the other two surrounding him. Never one to contemplate boundaries, he wanted to make Frank jealous. Which was working, but for all the wrong reasons. The younger boy saw the indiscreet contact and his mouth set into a line perfectly parallel with the musty carpet. Peeved, upset, both.

Mikey was oblivious to the tension in the room, exercise book perched on his knees and, on top of that, his essay neatly penned in biro. His eyes flicked back and forth, up and down, as he reread it, a critical eye keeping watch for mistakes.

“How long’s it have to be?” Gerard asked, peering over his younger brother’s shoulder.

“One thousand, five hundred,” Mikey replied, eyes not leaving the lined page. “I counted.”

Gerard just nodded silently in reply and shuffled slightly in between both his brothers. He tried to move away from Shannon’s fingertips; they felt vice-like even though he was being as gentle and ghostly as was possible. It matched the skin he was rubbing; soft and delicate.

“Are we actually going to do something?” Shannon asked, breaking the silence that had fallen upon the four boys. “Or are we just going to sit here watching Franklekins eat.”

“Why don’t you go masturbate?” Mikey asked, voice disinterested and eyes still focused intently on his essay. “That should take up, what, two minutes?”

“I don’t need to masturbate,” Shannon replied smirking. Although he was secretly quite impressed by Mikey’s quick-witted reply. “You see, there’s this pretty rad thing called ‘sexual intercourse’ and I happen to participate in it.”

“So you’re saying you’re easy?” Mikey asked. He looked up this time, glancing past Gerard and quirking an eyebrow at Shannon.

“Nope,” came the smug reply, “I’m actually quite difficult.”

Mikey merely stared at him a few seconds longer, then shifted his gaze back to the essay and flipped over onto the second page. Shaking his head all the while. From his position on the floor, Frank looked up at the twin boys, licking soy sauce from his lips. The carton lay open and empty next to him, all morsels devoured. Physical hunger satisfied, belly full but his mind was the opposite of satisfied as he glanced to Shannon’s still wandering fingers.

And Shannon took advantage of the obvious burning in Frank’s irises by slipping his hand behind Gerard’s back and tracing invisible patterns on his brother’s other hip. Using Gerard for his own twisted means, but copping-a-feel all the while. Multi-tasking.

“I’m heading off to bed,” Mikey announced, sliding his essay underneath the inside cover of his exercise book. “Night Frank, night bros.”

A chorus of ‘Night Mikey’ erupted from the three other boys, and Mikey rose from the couch, book in hand as he made his way off down the hallway. A slight silence followed his departure, the twins and the younger boy noting the absence of rustling paper and flitting eyes.

“I’m kinda tired too,” Gerard piped up, noting the tense atmosphere that’d crept into the room. He felt like a chew toy being fought over by hungry mongrels; two stubborn puppies, unwilling to slacken their rival grip on each end.

Shannon’s hand was brushed away as Gerard stood and stretched his arms out in front of him. The contact was wanted, desired and made his skin almost tingle. It was as though Shannon had fairy dust imprinted into his fingertips, the tiny crevices in each digit and under the short nails. They worked magic, but made his insides lurch at the thought of his parents finding out, of Frank giving up on him, becoming distant.

With a jerk of his head, he made it clear to Frank that he should follow. Which he did, after chucking his empty cardboard container into the small metallic flip-top bin under the kitchen counter. Shannon was quick to follow too. Down the hallway and into Gerard’s room. A flip of the light switch next to the door frame, and the sudden illumination poured over onto the room, Gerard’s bed and the mattress set up on the floor, ready for Frank to slumber on.

Shannon darted past the two other boys and pounced onto the mattress, making it sink under his weight as he bounced on it contently. He looked up as Gerard and Frank made their way into the room and smiled sickly sweet, even though Frank looked less than pleased that Shannon had occupied his make-shift bed.

“So…” Shannon began, once the others were seated on Gerard’s bed. “We should play spin the bottle.”

“No,” Frank instantly objected. And Gerard snorted subtly in agreement.

“Why not?” Shannon pouted, grossly over exaggerating his disappointment.

“Because there’s a one in two chance that I’ll have to kiss you and I don’t want to subject my poor innocent mouth to that sort of torment again,” Frank said smartly.

“I bet you’ve thought about sticking your poor innocent mouth over Gee’s dick,” Shannon replied, that smug smirk creeping up his face like a deadly spider.

“Shannon,” Gerard sighed, dramatically. “That’s the kind of thing you’re supposed to keep to yourself.”

The other twin smiled, almost seeming pleased at the reaction he’d provoked from Gerard. And Frank too, judging by the way he was biting the inside of his lip and attempting to focus his whole-hearted attention on the sheets under him.

“Like I said,” Gerard went on, “I’m going to sleep. No movies, no comics…no molestation, Shannon.”

Shannon studied his face as he finished speaking, eyes moving in an almost figure of eight motion, before he heaved himself up off the small mattress and onto the bigger one, next to Gerard. It almost caused Frank to cry out as a limb came close to making unwanted contact with his chest. That wide smile returned to Shannon’s features as he snaked his arms around Gerard’s waist and tugged the boy down to lay with him. Snuggling into his shoulder as he did so.

“Shannon…”

“Hey, I want to sleep with my brother; is that so wrong?” he asked, glancing up at Gerard through his eyelashes, his voice slightly muffled against the material covering Gerard’s torso.

An almost inaudible mutter of “Yes” was heard from the foot of the bed, bitter and frustrated. Frank climbed delicately off the bed and onto the mattress, slipping into the sleeping bag that now lay crumpled. He was still fully clothed, not exactly warm to the idea of stripping off in front of the bad boy Way and being objectified. Or ridiculed in front of Gerard. He wasn’t sure which one was less favourable.

“Night Gerard, night asshole,” he murmured affectionately, kneading his pillow into a more comfortable shape.

“Love you too, babe,” Shannon replied in jest.

He smiled at Gerard, eyes crinkling up at the corners and nuzzled into the pale neck. It was warm and inviting, and Shannon breathed out through his nose, allowing the recycled air to tickle the skin. Gerard liked this kind of thing, being held and feeling loved. If it was by the right person of course. Shannon knew this. And he wouldn’t tell Gerard, but he really was the only person he’d fall into this kind of pussy-assed shit with.

The older twin had to reluctantly leave the cosy embrace to switch off the bright light, but he was soon crawling back onto the bed to be close to his brother. Not before placing a chaste kiss to the back of Frank’s head beforehand, of course. At which the small boy had smiled and rolled over, away from the bed, to find a more comfortable sleeping position.

“Night night,” Shannon whispered as Gerard rested his body against his once more. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite…but if they do, just tell me and I’ll totally kick their asses.”

Gerard had to smile at that.

And so the three became silent, the two twins sleeping side by side and Frank slumbering peacefully on the floor.

by **rock and/or roll** Sun 26 Oct 2008, 10:39 am

Holding His Hand Like a Brand New Kite: Chapter Eight

There was usually something satisfying associated with waking up next to your love interest. Maybe share an early morning cuddle and swap body heat, enjoy a sweet kiss and so on. In Gerard’s case, he was brutally ripped away from sleep’s inviting embrace by a firm grip on his shoulders and rough shaking. In his groggy post-sleep haze he silently wondered if he’d get whiplash from the quick motion. But nevertheless his eyes opened, flickering as they became accustomed to the light bouncing off the room’s walls. Early morning he deduced, and by the weight on his hips and hazel eyes staring into his, he realised that Shannon was sitting on him.

“Ugh, go back to sleep,” Gerard moaned, screwing his eyes up in distaste.

“Franklekins informed me that mom and dad saw us sharing a bed,” Shannon replied lowly, “but, they thought it was perfectly innocent and absolutely adorable. You know, like when we slept in the same bed when we were kids and told stories about being superheroes and kicking criminal ass.”

Gerard sighed, a fragmented frame of memory flitting across his mind for a split second; sheer red tights, poorly drawn symbols and cringingly cheesy catchphrases… Super Shannon and his sidekick Gerard in all their tacky glory. The Way brothers were imaginative kids to say the least.

He rubbed at his temple, the thought vanishing and looked up at Shannon. “Tell me all this when I’m more than half-awake, then I’ll freak out accordingly; I’m too tired to care right now. And where’s Frankle- Frank?”

“Kitchen, making breakfast with mom.”

“And he didn’t say ‘morning’ first?” He rubbed tiredly at a sore eye, dislodging sleep from the inner corner. Stretching and sighing out a yawn as he slumped back down into the blankets that were radiating heat stolen from the bed’s occupants.

“Well, he’s made you a pancake with a smiley face on it,” Shannon replied, shrugging. “And he tried to impale me on a spoon when I attempted to eat it. But he woke up a while ago, didn’t want to wake you.”

Gerard nodded in understanding, head jerking like a bobble-head against the wrinkled pillow. He was still physically drained from the disturbance to his sleep, but from the brilliant sunlight leaking through the curtains, he figured it must be time to rise from his bed. Plus, his stomach was protesting the absence of food in his system.

“I gotta get up,” he sighed begrudgingly. “Breakfast and all that good shit.”

Shannon wouldn’t budge as Gerard sat up. He instead leant forward, hands sliding up from Gerard’s hips, ghosting past his sides and landing softly yet firmly on the broad shoulders of the boy beneath him. Now that he looked, Gerard noticed that quite a sizable amount of his stomach was visible, pale and warm from the contact made as Shannon lay down, resting his torso against his. The caramel eyes were wide and questioning as they met Gerard’s, and there was no conflict in his mind about what he was requesting.

And Gerard doubted he could have resisted the invitation, even if he’d wanted to; Shannon’s hair was messed up from his obvious turbulent movement during sleep, but it was tangled quite artistically so and this, combined with the slight traces of charcoal smudged under each eye made Gerard melt. And so he gladly obliged, tired arms wrapping around Shannon’s shoulders and mouths connecting in a frenzy of wet, warm tongues and slick lips. It was over in little under twenty seconds, but for those short seconds, Gerard had been transported to his own private world with Shannon, late morning kisses and bed times snuggled up under the blankets. A place where he and Shannon could be together, undisturbed and unthreatened by the judgement of society.

“Better scoot before they see us like this,” Gerard said quietly as he pulled his lips from Shannon’s. “I don’t know what I’d do if they freaked and, like, separated us or something.”

“Naw, you love me,” Shannon cooed, smiling in what could almost be seen as genuine.

“You love me?” Gerard asked, turning his head to face Shannon and seek out the truth in his eyes. His hair, previously spiralled out on the pillow in a faulty pinwheel was gathered up with the motion and clung to the side of his head. Their noses touched, joining like the metal teeth of a machine, working in perfect synchronization.

“Course,” he replied. “You’re my twinsie.”

It wasn’t the answer Gerard had been hoping for. In all truth, he knew the answer. We’re twins. I love you because you’re my brother. He had to mentally berate himself for even contemplating that Shannon, the Shannon “I-Don’t-Do-Long-Term-Relationships” Way would want just that with Gerard, his flesh and blood no less, his shared appearance. After all, his longest relationship to date was only a period of a month, give or take a few days. And throughout the entire “relationship,” Shannon had been sharing kisses and the occasional grope with Gerard. Those movie nights in Gerard’s room weren’t as innocent as their parents perceived them to be.

“I really got to get up now,” Gerard pressed, attempting to shield his disappointment behind words and movement. “’Cause if I’m late again, I could get fired, then I’ll have no money and I won’t be able to buy you a kick-ass birthday present anytime soon.”

Shannon quirked an eyebrow at this and Gerard could sense that ideas were swimming throughout his mind. Knowing Shannon’s train of thought and recognising that look on his face, Gerard had a feeling it wasn’t good.

“When was the last time you bought your little Tamara a present?” he asked, his voice too sugary.

“Uh…her birthday,” Gerard muttered. He raised a heavy arm and scratched behind his ear, not looking at Shannon.

“And what was the present?”

“Um, Green Day CD, Nimrod I think.” Gerard was catching on and he could sense where this tangent was heading.

“Mhm.” Shannon clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “And on our birthday, what did you get me again?”

As if he’d forgotten.

Gerard could remember the day perfectly; it’d started off with Shannon barging into his room at six am and pouncing on his bed, waking the poor sleeping boy with a start and two loud exclamations; Gerard's of fright and Shannon's of, "Wake the fuck up, it's present time!" Once the initial shock and annoyance had worn off, Gerard realised that the more awake boy had a fair sized package in his hands; wrapped neatly in paper, blue and covered in silver stars.

Shannon happily traded the present for a sloppy kiss and waited impatiently as his brother opened it, a delighted smile on his face as his eyes lay on what was inside. Every colour of the rainbow and then some compacted into brilliantly vibrant tubes of paint, brushes of different lengths and widths and a few patches with the insignias of bands emblazoned across them. Apparently Gerard’s casual assertions that he’d been running low on paint and his brushes were in less than good condition hadn’t gone unheard. He carefully placed the wrapping paper and its contents onto the ground before jumping on his brother and hugging him for a good minute, hands clutching at pyjamas and content smiles stretching their faces.

They exchanged hushed ‘happy birthdays’ before Gerard regained his ground and dug out Shannon’s present from under his bed. It was modest sized and box shaped, almost small enough to fit into the palm of Shannon’s hand. He took it curiously and ripped at the paper, a perfect intense shade of orange, to reveal a plain white box tied with a ribbon that shimmered silvery-gold in the early morning light. A pop of the lid later and he found a silver bracelet sitting on a layer of blood red velvet. He picked it up, beaming as he squinted at the elegant engraving of the twins’ birth date.

“A little more personal than a CD, hey?” Shannon stated, breaking through Gerard’s reminiscing and coaxing him back into the here and now.

"Fuck you," Gerard huffed, not awake enough to handle Shannon's goading.

He shoved the smirking man away from him and pulled back his blankets, the realisation suddenly resonating that he hadn’t changed the night before and his belt was digging into the skin of his middle. Shannon had a unique way of making Gerard forget about the simple rituals of day-to-day life when he was faced with that alluring and almost unbreakable smirk, those caramel eyes and milky white skin. Without a second glance at his companion, who he was certain was lounging suggestively on the bed awaiting attention, eyes fierce and enticing; Gerard left the bedroom, stepping past Frank’s vacated bed, sheets rumpled and creased, and into the hallway.

Just as Shannon had said, his mother and his best friend were in the kitchen, Mrs Way preoccupied with the stove, upon which a black and rusted frying pan was being licked at by blue and orange flames, and Frank slopping batter out of a metallic silver bowl on request.

Upon spying his friend, Frank smiled and called “Good morning,” and Mrs Way glanced away from the sizzling batter for a split second to do the same.

“Your father and I will be leaving early tomorrow,” she added, eyes still focused on the stove. “So you’ll have to make sure that Mikey gets to school on time.”

“What?” Gerard asked, dumbfounded. “Leaving to where?”

“Remember when I told you that we’d be going to New York for a week?” she sighed. “For a holiday, remember?”

“Well, yeah,” Gerard replied, scratching intently at the back of his head. “But I didn’t think it’d be so soon…”

A week trapped at home with Shannon; he felt his heartbeat begin to pick up with apprehension, and took a seat on one of the tall chairs in front of the counter.

Frank’s feet padded over to where his friend was sitting and Gerard looked down at the plate he was carrying; a lopsided smile and two blobs for eyes were carefully drawn on the pancake face with blue food colouring. And Gerard smiled at the childlike drawing, hugging Frank with one arm as he accepted his breakfast.

“And no crazy parties while we’re gone,” Mrs Way piped up. “You can have Frank over, but don’t trash the place.”

“I won’t,” Gerard promised through a mouthful of pancake. “But I can’t speak for Shannon.”

“Gerard.” Mrs Way turned from the stove and looked sternly at her son. “You’re the eldest and it’s your responsibility to look after your brothers and keep them in line.”

“The eldest by three minutes,” Gerard replied, his effort at sounding incredulous lost in his chewing. “And that’s probably ‘cause he was too lazy to try and beat me to the – oh god, I’ll shut up now.”

Frank laughed and Mrs Way suppressed a small smile as she scraped another pancake off the frying pan and dropped it onto a plate. Gerard shuddered overdramatically, thoughts fighting between the course of his birth and the possibilities of a parents free house for the week.

by **rock and/or roll** Thu 27 Nov 2008, 9:35 am

Holding His Hand Like a Brand New Kite: Chapter Nine

Gerard doubted he would ever let himself off the hook for getting sucked into such a predicament. The first warning sign came the morning of his parents' departure, after he'd found the envelope. The light sparkling through the windows made little patterns across the kitchen, creating the feeling of being inside a kaleidoscope as he read; $500 - make sure Shannon hasn't taken any jotted across the paper pocket in the elegant scrawl of his mother's hand. The notes were all there when he leafed through them (Shannon's sticky fingers obviously hadn't got there yet).

He stepped out into the hallway, fully intent on returning to his warm, inviting bed when it happened. An ass-grab from the dark-haired, smirking temptress as their paths crossed outside the bathroom. A hazel eye winked cheekily and he couldn't stop from staring as Shannon shed his towel in front of him and went about his business, silken skin glowing and movements provocative. The muscles in his arms and legs flexed as he turned the taps. Even a mental slap couldn't drag Gerard's gaze from that ass. Shannon turned and smirked.

"You can join me if you want." His voice was a few tones lower than normal. "Nobody said you couldn't touch."

Steam began to fill the small room, condensing on Shannon's chest, and Gerard quickly got the fuck out of there before his desires and hormones got the better of him. It was lucky too, because only a few short moments later, Gerard heard an exclamation of, "Shut the door, Shannon. Nobody wants to see that."

"Like what you see, Michael?" There was a purr laced in his voice.

"I like girls, Shannon. Girls who aren't related to me."

"I dunno. That cousin on mom's side's pretty hot."

"Go suck yourself."

"I would, but it's physically impossible. Someone hasn't been paying attention in Human Biology… You know, I'd be careful with that or you might lose your nerd status…and that’d just be terrible wouldn’t it? You’d be fending the girls off with a butter knife.”

Without the constant presence of their parents lingering over them, limits and boundaries were warped. There was no set dining time, no other adult eyes to catch the meaningful looks they sent each other between mouthfuls. The three brothers enjoyed take-out on the living room floor; a garlic bread entrée, greasy pizza main course and a reheated cheesecake for desert. Frank joined them once or twice, in which case some stray vegetables were dug out of the fridge's salad drawer, and he and Gerard battled it out on Nintendo.

He knew better of course. He knew that Shannon and Gerard always sat next to each other for reasons other than their extraordinary bond that only twins seemed to share. And no, it wasn't accidental when Shannon's hand came into brief contact with Gerard's thigh. One resonating agreement seemed to bounce between them, though. Keep Mikey unawares. At all costs. Whatever feelings and desires burned throughout the twins' veins, they were saved up, pent up, and let loose during intimate liaisons in the dead of night, or through heated lip contact in the hallway.

Gerard was pinned against the wall by another set of hips, hands caught and rendered useless by his sides in a monkey grip. A breath in, a less than steady breath out. A tongue lashed at his ear. Hands grabbed at his thighs, stomach and chest. With the expiration of one stage of their relationship, another had ripened. Oh, Gerard relished in the impulsive attention. He lapped up each sweet taste like spilt milk and was silently and confusedly thankful that Shannon was just the right amount of reckless. And it appeared that an extra mischievous shimmer had surfaced in the eyes that so mirrored his own.

"You're completely sure about this?"

"Mhm." He nodded, movements slightly restricted from the weight against his body.

"Really sure? 'Cause there's no going back from this, Gerard."

"Yes, I know."

"I'm just making sure."

"I'm sure. Fuck, just do it before I change my mind!"

An exasperated and exhilarated sigh broke free from his mouth. His head lolled backwards, too turned on to go through reassurance after reassurance that what they were doing was right. Would this secret ever be right? There was a moment, just a moment, when Gerard brought his head forwards again and they stared at each other. Gerard's eyes sure and definite. Perhaps more sure than Shannon had ever seen him, glowing with a determined light. Yes, he wanted this. Shannon immediately pushed their lips together.

With an experienced hand, his pants were down. His belt buckle jingled. The denim material bunched around his calves. Zipper undone. Dick out. He had to bite his lip as the soft hands handled him. Shannon got to his knees on the tiger-print carpet. A mouth and unclean breath swarmed the sensitive area, hot, almost searing. Gerard moaned like a sex-starved teenager, which was half true at least. Fingers were involved somewhere, saliva coated and flirtatious. Plenty of tongue. Slippery yet delicious on his warm skin. He pawed at Shannon's messed up hair. His heart thumped manically. Rushed, stressful, euphoric. Not exactly how he pictured venturing to third base, but euphoric was a start.

A repressed whine and a needy thrust of hips later, and Shannon's mouth was filled. Some spurted outwards, smearing across the sides of his mouth. And he just sat there, a small smile on his face, gazing up at Gerard as Gerard trembled, mouth still open and breathing in air raggedly. Sweat had formed on his brow and his dick now hung loosely, still out and deflated.

"Wow..." His chest heaved. "All those years sucking off other guys really paid off. I mean, fuck."

The other just continued to smile, almost proud. He'd nearly come to ignore the negative connotations that came along with a sentence like that. Gerard soon calmed down enough for Shannon to zip him up and guide him to the latter's bed. With their ebony hair splayed across the pillow, the twins looked like mirror image Snow Whites. Poison apple lips. Alluring yet dangerous. They lay for a good thirty seconds before Shannon saw fit to meld their lips together again. A hand on his cheek, and a flick of Shannon's tongue, and Gerard had copped almost half a mouthful of himself. His first instinct was to stop and spit, not all that warm to the idea of having something that'd come out of his dick in his mouth, but he took a deep breath through his nose and sucked it up.

"Will your lovely if not...very very mistaken girlfriend be making an appearance during this parental free week?"

And there it was. His lips spewing poison, showing just how dangerous they could be.

"I'm not sure." Gerard shrugged, not catching Shannon's gaze. "Um, she hasn't called me since last week...Did something happen when you were over there?"

Shannon snorted. "Of course something happened dufus. We had-"

"No, not that." Gerard sighed impatiently. "I mean...did you say something to make her, I dunno, despise me?"

"Well, there was the whole no cuddling thing."

"The what?" His eyes immediately snapped back to Shannon’s unperturbed face.

"She wanted to cuddle after we'd done the deed. I didn't. We conflicted. She got a little prissy. I may have called her co-dependent. I don't know, I forget shit. It all seems kinda insignificant now."

Gerard had to let out a small breath of a sigh to keep from snapping. Shannon meant well. He meant well. He wanted to help Gerard...well, that was partly his motivation. But really? Co-dependent? Tammy wasn't exactly the passive type. In fact, Gerard would have been wholeheartedly surprised if a comment like that had gone down without some backlash. Oh, she was a sweetheart but you couldn't expect to grab a rose and not get pricked by its thorns.

Gerard gazed at his brother. No, Shannon wasn't a puppet. A puppet would have played along with the scenario, been the perfect little doting boyfriend, catered to her every whim.

"I should call her...apologise and shit."

He was pushed down before his back even left the bed. "Later. Look, she's never really asked to cuddle before, so it's not like she has anything to compare it to. Besides, it's" - he consulted the metal band around his wrist - "almost midnight. What's a few hours, yeah?"

Shannon cupped Gerard's cheek in his hand and ghosted over the faint stubble with his fingertips. It was quite remarkable really. He was well accustomed to the tempting seductress, the sexual demon, but he hadn't yet gotten his head completely around the caring Shannon. It was nice, and Gerard grinned.

"I finally know why you're so fucking cocky all the time," he sniggered despite himself and Shannon smirked.

But there was a funny taste in his mouth, which he was positive had nothing to do with Shannon's wandering tongue. Christmas may have come early this year, but it'd been followed by one hell of a Boxing Day hangover.

by **rock and/or roll** Fri 20 Mar 2009, 7:48 pm

Holding His Hand Like a Brand New Kite: Chapter Ten.

The next Monday couldn’t have come sooner.

With every, “Gerard, we need more toilet paper,” or “Gerard, Shannon’s been in the shower for two hours and is slowly depleting the world’s water sources and suffocating the marine life,” his brain ached just a little more. Little electrical shocks gnawed at the talk-tendered tissue as the two younger Ways bickered like a married-for-fifty-years couple on maximum volume. Every little comment and every whiny word made the elder appreciate his parents’ plight as he consistently struggled not to cry out with a pent-up exasperation that was rivalled only by his sexual frustration. Raising three boys filled with testosterone and building temper tantrums that could measure on the Richter Scale was a trial that only love and patience could handle.

Luckily his parents possessed both and Gerard had inherited them in abundance. He’d always been ready to forage for a bandaid whenever Shannon got too boisterous with toddler Mikey, kiss the sore better and calm the glazy-eyed little boy with soft shushing sounds he’d learned from observation. The tears dried with time and a smile, and the three would be back to watching rainbow-coloured TV programs in minutes.

He stood in the kitchen now, head rested on the cool metal exterior of the fridge, willing his raging headache into oblivion.

“Hey lover.”

A jolt of surprise and nerves, almost as painful as a shock from an electrically charged fence ran through his stomach as two arms slid sneakily around it. They rested comfortably, almost like the hands of an expectant father connecting with his unborn child, warm and excited. But his touch felt icy to Gerard as an invisible shiver rippled out, and his legs struggled not to wobble like a new-born taking its first tentative steps.

And then it came, the words whispered so alluringly close to his ear that immediately transformed Gerard from lover to brother: “We need more toilet paper.”

He stepped out of Shannon’s cosy embrace, his legs as rigid as the expression spread across his face. That dull ache restated its claim on his brain as he turned to glower at his brother. Shannon just smiled sweetly, the early markings of a devious smirk making their appearance known upon his lips.

“I bought toilet paper two days ago.” Gerard sighed irritably, the breath coming out in short sharp explosions of heated air. “And I really don’t see how we could have used it up already. So I have to assume that either the toilet’s developed a taste for the paper and is eating it of its own accord, or someone’s taking it and using it for purposes other than what it was made for. And for fuck’s sake, Shannon, toilet paper may technically grow on trees, but you still have to pay for it.”

Shannon’s smirk spread, capturing his entire face and making all his muscles work towards it. “You know, looking at you is kinda like looking into a sexy mirror.”

A small tremor forced its way through Gerard’s insides, circulating uneasily within his stomach. His heartbeat joined in the fun, accelerating to match tempo. A compliment from Shannon – a genuine one, that is - was one to treasure. The man in question stared into him, and Gerard was sure that Shannon was waiting for him to break, waiting for him to be the first to look away, his confused and ashamed eyes glancing elsewhere; his gaze travelled over Gerard’s face, picking out every tense muscle and unsure line, before he spoke again.

“...I’m making a papier-mâché sailboat, and all I could find were a few old newspapers and dad’s good printing paper. And I can’t use that. That stuff’s like...fucking white gold to him. Besides, it’d be impossible to mâché.” Gerard resisted the throbbing urge to blurt out that ‘mâché’ wasn’t a proper word on its own. “And come on, they left us five hundred bucks. That’s like...double what we needed for food...and you let Mikey buy that shitty album he’s been orgasming over for the past few days, so let me have my toilet paper, thank you. Besides, I thought that you of all people, being an arty freak and all, would have encouraged my creativity.”

Gerard had to laugh then – more with incredulity than anything else. His twin played the role of the evil double, the tempting seductress with those fuck me eyes so so well. But he could be a bitch and a downright brat when the mood suited him or “just ‘cause.”

“That’s not creative. It’s disgusting.” Gerard grumbled, finding his voice as a small thunderstorm built with intensity deep in his throat. He was so torn. He wanted to yell obscenities at his smirking brother while clawing at his own still just-stumbled-out-of-bed hair. But he wanted that touch on his skin, and he wanted it to linger, to live on in visible marks. “I’ll stop by the supermarket and grab some more...but you get one roll, Shannon.”

“Wicked awesome.” Gerard raised a disbelieving eyebrow, and Shannon responded with a I’m-a-cat-and-I-just-ate-your-canary smile. “All Betsy needs now is a mast and a sail.”

“You named it Betsy?”

“Well...yeah. All boats and ships and stuff are female, Gerard...and speaking of females...“Gerard swallowed, tongue like sandpaper against the roof of his mouth, glancing on helplessly as Shannon rubbed it in painfully. “Have you called Tamara yet? Or...are you hoping that she’ll miraculously forget that you turned into Mr Hyde?”

“She wouldn’t answer. And this is all your fucking fault, so I don’t see why I should have to make it right.”

“I can think of two reasons.” He raised two fingers, all swagger and over-exaggeration. “Number one, she’s your girlfriend, not mine. Number two, you’re the one who didn’t have the balls to either sleep with her or tell her that you’re gay, so yes, I would have to say my poor dear Gerard, that it is your fault.”

Gerard glared, his breaths coming out sharp and annoyed. The truth hurt. It hurt more painfully than his squirming stomach and aching brain combined. And he knew Shannon could see it and sense it with every frenzied and unsure look Gerard tried not to broadcast from his eyes. Shannon ruffled up Gerard’s already disheveled mop of hair, the most affectionate gesture he could muster, and chewed on his bite-plumped bottom lip as he watched Gerard walk away.

-

Students streamed out from the entrance like a broken floodgate, fleeing in every direction, to poor excuses for their first car, to the school buses with their arms linked in tight chains with their closest friends, and others to their parents, waiting patiently in the driver’s seat and reading TV Guide. Some hung around the front lawn, sharing very public farewells with their senior boyfriend, or finalizing details with friends for that night’s escapades.

Shannon groaned as if he had a stabbing pain in his gut. He sat in the back, almost sinking into the spongy seat with its frayed grey cover. A small mountain of toilet paper rolls packaged neatly in plastic stood proudly next to him, one of which was already claimed with a messy scribble of biro. “Please tell me we’re not going to sit here all afternoon so you can point out all the boys that you think are hot. ‘Cause that’s boring...and a little wrong, seeing as most of them aren’t even legal yet.”

“We’re waiting for Frank. Who isn’t legal by the way, but you still seem intent on getting into his pants.”

“Well, he plays the ‘innocent virgin’ card well. You know...I wouldn’t be all that surprised to find out that the boy’s a stud. It’s always the ones who seem the most naive.”

“Mhm.” Gerard tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, glancing distractedly out at the school. “I’m guessing you’re not including yourself in that category? ‘Cause you’re the most shameless and unsubtle person I’ve ever met. And Shannon” – he twisted in his seat to face him– “if you so much as breathe on Frank, you’re walking home, alright?”

Shannon leaned forward, hands wedged between his knees as he gazed with eyes half-lidded at Gerard, words coming out low and husky. “Oh, do me right now, Gerard.”

Gerard swallowed, eyes locked on the building. “Fuck you.”

“Yes please. Right up against the seat here.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, the things that voice does to me.”

“Shut up or I’ll end you.”

The passenger door swung wide open as Shannon was about to retaliate with more purring words dipped in candied sex and sprinkled with mirth; Frank plopped down into the seat, dragging his bag with him. He seemed oblivious to the sexually charged atmosphere he’d just intruded on, but a little nervous smile flitted across his face as he announced, “Hey guys,” catching the attention of both.

They turned to face him, Gerard twisting back around in the driver’s seat, greeting him with a, “Hey Frankie,” and Shannon stating, “That schoolboy look really compliments your ass, Frank.”

The younger boy ignored Shannon’s prowling eyes and instead leaned over the gearstick to hug Gerard, feeling warmth hit his chest. He caught a whiff of cheap shampoo reeking of oversweet strawberries, no doubt tossed in the shopping trolley last minute by a flustered Mrs Way. Frank sniffed at it, making sure to be discreet so Shannon wouldn’t have any more ammo given to him. The pair parted and before Gerard could so much as open his mouth to ask, How was school today? Frank beat him to it.

“What’s with all the toilet paper?” He looked curiously at the mound in the backseat.

“Betsy needs a mast and sail,” was Shannon’s simple reply.

Frank just raised a dumbfounded eyebrow at him before turning his attention to Gerard. He was accustomed to Shannon’s utterances frequently making no sense to him. That, or being laced with sexual inappropriateness.

“Where’s Mikey? Isn’t be hitching a ride with us?”

“Huh? Oh...no.” Gerard observed Frank curiously. A certain nervous bounce had possessed him. “He’s hanging out with some girl he met through friends. But he should be back before mom and dad are tonight.”

“Oh.”

A wave of silence passed over the interior of the car for a brief moment. Shannon proceeded to make irritating clucking noises against his palate, whilst Frank looked down, hands twisting in a slow and demented dance atop his knees. Gerard still observed him, part curious, part concerned.

“I was wondering if you could do me a favour, Gerard?” That nervous smile was back.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Well, see that girl over there?”

Frank pointed through the dust-covered windscreen, and the other two peered out. There was a copper-haired girl standing close to the car park, an assortment of sparkly and brightly-coloured bracelets wrapped around her wrists and a small strip of material wrapped around her thighs. She held a mini backpack over one shoulder as she waited. An air of impatience circled her, obviously not accustomed to waiting more than five minutes for her parents’ car to roll in.

“Yeah..?”

“That’s Lillian Ber-Taylor. She’s in my World History class and...well, she asked me out today. And I told her, ‘No, I’m sorry, but I’m gay,’ but she got upset, right. ‘Cause she thought I’d just made that up to try and spare her feelings or something. So, well, I was wondering if you could...kiss me.”

Gerard stared at the downturned eyes of his friend as Frank pulled at a loosening thread on his school pants, his own eyes slightly wider as a plethora of thoughts wreaked havoc on his mind. Thoughts of 'Shit, but he likes me' and 'He’s seventeen; is that even allowed?' floated towards the front of his mind as he battled with what to do.

Shannon’s low-toned insistence of, “Do it,” wasn’t of much help either.

In the end, it was Frank’s desperately pleading eyes that made up his mind.

He tasted like teenager, a mix of bad cafeteria food and candy bought while skipping Maths class; too sweet and too young on Gerard’s older lips. Frank, on the other hand, could taste experience on Gerard’s, and he liked it. The way he fit his lips to the younger boy’s and the way he controlled the kiss spelled out practice and consideration. There wasn’t any tongue – Gerard wouldn’t have let it go that far – but it lasted longer than an innocent and friendly peck. And it was...awkward, like first time sex between two shy and skinny teens with painfully bony limbs stuck at all the wrong angles and a silent wish of Is it over yet?

It was over in half of a dead slow minute. They pulled away, Shannon clapping and exclaiming, “Dudes, that was fucking hot.”

Frank sported a subtle but victorious grin and Gerard seemed determined to avoid the eyes of passing students. But as he clumsily turned the key in the ignition and put the car into gear, he failed to notice that Lillian Ber-Taylor’s eyes were glued to her glittery wristwatch throughout the whole ordeal.

by Sponsored content

(c) Holding His Hand Like a Brand New Kite [MA]

(c) Holding His Hand Like a Brand New Kite [MA]

Re: (c) Holding His Hand Like a Brand New Kite [MA]

Re: (c) Holding His Hand Like a Brand New Kite [MA]

Re: (c) Holding His Hand Like a Brand New Kite [MA]

Re: (c) Holding His Hand Like a Brand New Kite [MA]

Re: (c) Holding His Hand Like a Brand New Kite [MA]

Re: (c) Holding His Hand Like a Brand New Kite [MA]

Re: (c) Holding His Hand Like a Brand New Kite [MA]

Re: (c) Holding His Hand Like a Brand New Kite [MA]

Re: (c) Holding His Hand Like a Brand New Kite [MA]

Re: (c) Holding His Hand Like a Brand New Kite [MA]