A Bullet Through A Flock Of Doves

Ten - I Know A Thing About Contrition

Gerard was immediately aware of something wet and squishy on his mouth.

It took him a sleepy second to realize it was a pair of lips, and then that they were Frank's lips, and then that Frank had terrible morning breath.

Or maybe that was Gerard, but he'd never admit that.

Whatever the case, he grumbled and pushed Frank away before waking up considerably more as he felt that he was very much naked, and so was Frank. Gerard felt very vulnerable, and he didn't like that. Then again, Frank was just as exposed, and he didn't seem to be very guarded at all from the way he was trying to melt his bones or something in order to curl himself around Gerard's body.

Gerard really didn't like that. He was not a cuddly type of person, it just made him uncomfortable. He edged away slightly, and Frank's eyes blinked open fully. He looked a bit hurt and a bit defiant. But Gerard's attention was on something else - Frank's hand. The faint pink outline of his cross was imprinted there like a scar, and it made Gerard's insides turn cold with dread. Had Frank recognized the cross? Had he put the pieces together?

Gerard might have to put a knife through his ribs. It was the easiest solution to keep his and his...group's secrets safe. But what a shame to stain such pretty skin? It was true, Frank was an attractive little slut, and Gerard could have some fun with him - come to think of it, he'd love to stain Frank's skin, and not with tattoos.

Maybe later.

Maybe he could just keep the slut close until the time arose where he knew too much. Either that, or Gerard's superiors would just make the choice for him and quietly dispose of Frank on their own.

"So, what, you don't want to snuggle?" Frank actually sounded disappointed.

Gerard gave him his most scathing glare, which was pretty terrifyingly amazing. "It is not in my list of pastimes, no."

"What are your pastimes, then?"

"Having sex with tattooed sluts, going to prison, killing people, punishing people, torturing people, the list goes on and on."

"Sounds fun."

"Oh, you have no idea."

Frank chewed his lip and said, "So, um. That cross thing. What-"

"Shut your mouth."

He narrowed his eyes. "Excuse me?"

"Don't talk about it, or I promise I'll do something much worse than last night."

Frank's eyes glittered. "I like the sound of that."

Gerard's eyes and voice were flat. "Unless you enjoy having your innards cut from your body and your mouth being sewed shut, I don't think you do."

Frank paled. "Oh."

"Thought not," Gerard said, and he wriggled out of the bed, ignoring Frank's hungry eyes and tugging on the prison uniform. Did he mention how much he hated orange? The first thing he was going to do when he got out of here was buy some brand new clothes, none of them even remotely orange at all.

If he got out of here.

No, shut up.

"How many people did you kill?

Gerard hesitated, turning to Frank slightly and considering whether to actually tell him or not.

No, he wouldn't tell him.

"Twenty."

Frank raised an eyebrow. "Twenty?" He seemed dubious. Fine, let him be - Gerard was not changing his answer anytime soon even though it was far from the truth.