Satin and Saxophones

Words Lit End to End.

We had eaten our dinner in comfortable silence every once in awhile trading a story, but for the most part it was so easy to just sit with him. Mind boggling comfortable, and wonderful. As we walked down the sidewalk, I couldn't help but peer out of the corner of my eye at the cigarette perched between his fingers. His eyes would drift toward mine every once in a while making me play with my fingers or look up into the sky pointing out the stars, and how beautiful they were.

"You know you're much more beautiful." Frank said with a smile nudging his elbow toward me. My face exploded into a blush as his arm wrapped itself around the small of my back and swung me around a corner without warning. The lights beside all of the doors were bright and the small black mail boxes underneath each of them had last names printed in beautiful cursive handwriting. We walked past a Vanderpump, a Wallace, and a James. Each mailbox I read, waited for it to be his as I noticed him fiddling in his pockets for his keys. Pulling them free I noticed a small brass saxophone keychain hanging from his key ring. My eye catching "Iero" on the mailbox making me smile, and mentally memorize how to spell his last name. The sounds of dogs barking filled my ears as Frank started fiddling with his keys in the lock, a sense of nervousness washing over his confidence that made me laugh.

"Here, let me help." I chuckled wrapping my hand around his turning the key in the door with his nervous smile looking slightly up at me. Before i could even blink his hand reached for its favorite perch my lower back, pulling me an inch closer his lips dipping up to mine. The feeling of his soft lips on mine, with the slight taste of cigarettes, and the aftertaste of whisky on his lips made my stomach twirl into itself happily. My hand was still perched on the door knob as his lips parted from mine and began to trace down my jawline. "Frank." I breathed heavily into his hair as he took the message and opened the front door backing us in. The feeling of small feet, and the sound of their small yaps attacked over me making me laugh into the kiss my chest pressing up against him, and my arms wrapping around his neck as my head dipped backwards. His hands began running down my back tracing the outlines of the buttons lining my back. "Frank." I repeated breathily but in different intent as I pulled away. The weight of reality crashing all around me as my mind began throwing a tantrum throughout my head. Sharp pains coursing through my temples as if I had just been punched. I knew that if this went any further he wasn't going to find what he wanted. I wanted so much for tonight to just be a dream, so I didn't ruin any part of it the way I always did. I had an appetite for destruction, self destruction a delicacy. I wanted so much to let him kiss me and kiss me, his hands to trace my body and see me the way I saw myself. His lips filling me with compassion that I hadn't felt in years, hands setting my body aflame in confidence. I could see so clearly my legs wrapping around him, my body pressed so closely to his. As I pulled away his hands pill me back his lips relocating to my forehead making me almost melt back into him. I didn't feel as though he was using me, I felt comfortable, I felt happy for the first time in what seemed like forever. "We gotta stop." I whispered against his neck as his hands stopped pawing at my back and he pulled away just until his hands rested on my hips his eyes looking into mine. I waited for the pronunciation of the word that would make me feel beyond dirty in this moment of heaven on earth. The word tease was hissed at women that didn't put out to compassion, that didn't sell out to empty gestures. It wasn't that I would let him touch me, fill me, and feel me. Reality was that I wasn't who he thought. It was easy to live in the boots of reality of who I truly was deep down as long as I was able to dwell in my mindset alone. It was the moment that my makeup, and dress was taken from me. The shape of my face, and the way I carried myself almost merit alone until you kept looking. The truth was that my body parts didn't match the true me. The truth was that I was certain it would ruin every part of this snowballing intimacy. Because no matter how deep inside I felt biologically female, I was a man. When I was aroused, it didn't pool between my legs the way it's described in erotic novels. I would never be able to carry, and give birth to a child that was my own. The harsh truth was that I would most likely be alone my entire life, part in fear of being hurt, part fear of being taunted, and lastly because the gender that dwelled in my hear, brain, and corded through my veins it would never match what hung between my legs or the lack of density on my chest.

"Doll, are you okay?" Frank murmured as my head raced over every though that had always been in the back of my head half fueled by self hatred, and made while by the cruel words predominantly from my father, but from others as well. The words lit end to end like dynamite and buzzed through my pounding skull. The words were always there, but now in the fear of fucking up the small ray of light that I had found tonight, they amplified. I nodded as his hands released my body, and I stumbled backwards. The safety of our closeness dissipated as I realized that once I looked at him in his beautiful hazel eyes every piece of perfection that had in encompassed the short, but immortal last 6 hours would disappear before my eyes as I was shooed out with his broom out onto his cold door step. "Gee please talk to me." He said with an edge of pleading, genuine worry seething in his tone as he led me to his black leather sofa. The room decked out in crystal, dark wood, and silver. His bar was shining in the corner as I thirsted for a drink to settle my nerve anything to make myself able to breathe. Canister after canister filled with liquor, gleaming crystal glasses, and a silver martini shaker glared back at me with an invitation of comfort as the words to ask for a drink tumbled out of my lips in which he indulged. His short legs flying there and pouring us each a shallow drink.

"I haven't been completely honest with you, Frank." I confessed my hands piling into my lap until the glass of liquor hit my hands, and instantly filled my throat as I tried to find the words to continue speaking. "My name isn't really Gee." I sighed with defeat looking back at my half drank drink that had now lost all of my interest as I avoided his eyes that I feared were filled with hurt, anger or disgust. Instead his hand reached tinny shoulders tracing his thumb over them.

"Sweetheart singers rarely keep their actual name as their stage name." Frank chuckled snaking his other hand to wrap around mine only to squeeze lightly. There was an electricity that flowed through him, and into me every time we touched. It made me feel more alive than I ever had. "What's your actual name then." He smiled, and before I could stop myself the words vomited onto my lap.

"Gerard Arthur Way." I whispered avoiding his gaze, but holding onto a fraction of hope as his hand was still wrapped around mine.