A Kiss and I Will Surrender

28

"Ah," I let out a soft gasp as he pulled my shirt up. We were in his room and the smell of paint and cologne was thick in the air. I was laying on my back on his bed, and he was hovering over me, his eyes looking past me, into my soul.

My legs were curled around him on either side, holding him in place, I could feel my pants tightening. He leant down and pressed his lips to mine, gently at first but the longer we kissed the more passionate it got. He let out a soft moan against my lips and his hips grinded against mine. I could feel him getting hard too, finally he pulled away:

"Are you sure you're ready?" I nodded, this time I was sure. In fact, I was certain that I was ready.

He lowered his body onto mine, trailing soft kisses down my torso. He brought himself back up to me so we were face to face. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down to meet me, crashing my lips against his. He shoved his tongue into my mouth and a fire ignited in my chest. It felt so good to be this close to him.

I tangled my fingers in his hair and he pulled away. For a moment I was worried he was going to stop, but then his hands found their way to my jeans, undoing the zipper and sliding them down my legs. It was somehow both sensual and aggressive, but in just the right way. I kicked my pants off completely and he pulled his own down, leaving us in only our boxers. I sat up and he stood between my legs. Our lips met once again and we exchanged the flavors of each others mouths, moving in time with one another.

He grinded against me and I bucked my hips to meet his, I wanted him so badly. I wanted him inside of me. I couldn't wait any longer, I slid my hands down to his hips to push off his boxers. I looked into his eyes, my heart beating in my chest like a war drum.

"Frank," He said. I nodded, eagerly awaiting what would come next.

"Frank," His voice sounded strange, he didn't sound like himself anymore.

"Frank get up," I felt someone touch my shoulder and I jumped as my eyes shot open.

"Frank," It was my mother.

It had only been a dream; "I'm going to work now, I have meetings all day so if you need anything, Mark's number is on the fridge. I nodded, my head still fuzzy from the dream. I was in a daze, which lasted for a few minutes after she left. I heard the garage door close and then I was really brought back to reality.

"Oh God," I sat up, putting my head in my hands, "What am I doing?"

I had a clear problem that needed solving, so I started the day off with a hot shower. Vivid images from my dream flashed in my mind, I was slightly disappointed that I hadn't actually seen Gerard's whole body in the dream, but I guess some things have to be left to the imagination. I finished up in the bathroom and put on some sweat pants and a band T-shirt.

It was Thursday and I was home alone. I think it was better that way, if I had been with friends I would have felt bad. It would have been like I was taunting Gerard or something, which was the last thing I wanted to do. I couldn't regret what I'd done though.

The day was slow, I watched cartoons until the clock read 3pm, then I ate a bowl of cereal, my first meal of the day. Then I scrolled mindlessly through my phone, and finally I took a nap. Napping seemed like a great idea, until I found myself caught in another dream about the person I was trying to get over. Of course, it had to be another wet dream.

I woke up and rolled my eyes as I climbed off the couch and returned to the bathroom for my second hot shower of the day. Things like that made being a guy very annoying. I silently envied girls, but cringed at the thought of the female body. Ew.

Before I knew it, it was 6pm and my mom was coming home from work.

"How was your day, Frankie?" I shrugged as she walked in the door. It had been uneventful, not bad necessarily, but quite boring.

"Your dad called me earlier," My head shot up. I hadn't heard from him since Christmas Eve, he had basically fallen off the grid-- or at least off whatever grid I lived on.

"What did he say?" I had been hoping that he'd reach out, it wasn't often that he disappeared like that, usually he kept in touch enough to have visits with me at least once a month.

"He took a job in Chicago," I furrowed my brow, that was far.

"Why?"

"I don't know, honey, but he wanted to talk to you about it. He was thinking maybe you could go stay up there with him for the summer," I gave her a funny look. Her and my father not only rarely got along, but it wasn't often that they could actually communicate without someone blowing up completely. Especially when it came to custody and visitations. The first few years of their divorce were... messy, to say the least. They kind of took the phrase 'custody battle' literally. It was like a full on war, constant arguments; it was worse than when they were together.

Seeing my mom talk about my dad like this, sounding so calm, even considering sending me to possibly live with him-- it was a whole new level of weird. Maybe the distance had something to do with it.

"Okay, I'll give him a call later," I said. I wondered how he ended up in Chicago, and why? It was so far away... maybe that was the reason why. I didn't know, and I guess the only way to find out was to ask him myself.

Mark came over for dinner later on that night, and once my mom disappeared into her office to finish up some work, I gave him the run-down on Gerard:

"And I just.. I just couldn't, you know? I had to say no," I shrugged.

"Yeah, yeah, I get that. He sounds like he was genuinely sorry. At least, based on what you said."

"It doesn't matter, though. He's leaving in two days so it'll be just like it was in December, he'll just disappear and forget I even exist," I said sadly.

"The only ones who can do anything about that are you and Gerard," Mark told me, "If you want to try and make it work, you have to try. If you think it isn't worth it, then you did the right thing."

I guess he was right. We were the only ones who were in control of the situation; it was our situation after all. We talked a bit more about other things, and since I'd grown to trust Mark a lot more over the course of the last few months, I even inquired him about the news regarding my father. That was the strangest bit since I usually avoided the topic of my dad when talking to Mark.

"Chicago, hmm," He looked up in thought, "That's pretty far. If you do end up going, you'll be missed. But just like with Gerard, it's your choice. You need to do what you think is right, and I can give you my input, but in the end, it's all up to you," Mark talked in a way that made him sound so wise. He was right, all of this was up to me. It was my life, so I had to choose how to live it.

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