Frankie Baby

Four times Gerard got the reaction he expected out of Frank and the one time he didn't.

One

"It was a dark and stormy night..." Gerard said lowly over the flashlight shining under his chin. Frank stopped listening after that, watching the way the light made shadows across Gerard's face. He looked so pretty.

But boys can't be pretty, Frank always thought. It wasn't until he met Gerard would he understand that, yes, boys can be pretty, too. Gerard thought Frank was also pretty. He sure told him enough.

Gerard was always complimenting him and being a generally nice guy. It was super annoying. Why did he have to be so nice? It made it harder for Frank to hate him. Truthfully, though, Frank didn't hate Gerard at all. Quite the opposite, but he'd never admit it.

Only when the darkness and summer heat blanketed him in the middle of the night would Frank even consider it.

Gerard would tease Frank and call the shorter one 'Frankie Baby.' Which one could call a compliment, but Frank considered abuse.

But it doesn't matter. Frank isn't thinking about this right now. He isn't thinking about all the times Gerard's teased him, causing him to blush and stutter. It's 'telling scary stories over the campfire' time. Not "think about Gerard and get all warm inside" time. That was for later.

"...and then he jumped out from under the shadows and yelled into the frail boy's ear--" Gerard whispered, leaning forward. "Boo!" He yelled, grabbing Frank's shoulder. Frank jumped ten feet into the air and shrieked.

"You asshole," Frank growled, his disdain obvious on his face.

"Language!" A nine-year-old said. The others giggled at Frank's bewilderment.

"I could tell you weren't listening to my story," Gerard explained, wagging his finger at Frank as if he was scowling a child.

"That's because it sucked," Frank huffed, crossing his arms. Maybe he was acting like a child.

"I think I got my point across," the other mumbled and flicked the flashlight off.

"Alright! Everyone back to their cabins, it's bedtime," counselor Ray said.

"But not for us," Mikey whispered triumphantly.

The counselors got the kids back into their respective cabins and settled into theirs. They technically weren't supposed to drink on the job, but it was summer, so that's what they were going to do.

Gerard slipped his arm around Frank's shoulders, leaning into him to whisper, "sorry for scaring you, Frankie Baby," and poked him in the ribs. Frank's insides twisted, a blush creeping onto his face, and a strangled squeak escaped his throat. Gerard laughed, dropping his arm.

What an asshole...

Two

Some days Frank would join Gerard and Lindsey in the crafts cabin instead of being with Ray and James in the music one. Frank liked both art mediums--music being his ultimate favorite, but arts and crafts were still good. Plus, he got to watch Gerard work.

Frank swore Gerard could turn anything, even trash, into art. And then he'd go on to say, "Frankie Baby, everything is art," or something equally as cheesy as that. Gerard was good at everything. God, is there anything you can't do?

"Hey, Frankie!" Lindsey waved at him from a table with a bunch of six-year-olds. A chorus of 'hey Frankie's' joined after. Okay, so maybe everyone called him Frankie. But adding "baby" at the end of it surely meant something. It wasn't an accident--not anymore at least. It was on purpose!