Taking Back the Life You Stole

Chapter 4

 When Frank woke up the next morning, the pain was still there, but not nearly as bad. He knew Ray had already left for work because their air smelled of buttered toast and coffee. He opened his eyes slowly against the sun coming through the windows. Underneath the usual scent of Ray getting ready in the morning, there was something softer, sweeter: lavender. He gently moved his fingers and felt then still entwined in the hand of another person. Frank looked down at Gerard sleeping peacefully on the floor next to the couch. Sometime in the night, Ray must have woken up, because there was a blanket on top of Frank and another on top of Gerard, and there was a pillow for him too. He smiled to himself, sometimes Ray was the best roommate he could ever ask for. Frank dug his free hand out from under the blanket and pushed it out of the way so he could see his legs with a much clearer head than he had last night. His pants were still down at his ankles, he made a mental note to pull them up before he fell back asleep. The gauze covering the cuts wasn't soaked with blood, so he took that as a good sign. Ray's words about just leaving stuff alone echoed through his head, but he couldn't help himself. He gently peeled back a corner of the gauze to survey the damage.

The scrapes were now covered in scabs, propper scabs, not the gross pus-filled kind he had last night. Mostly, he was just glad it didn't string anymore, it was more of a dull ache, but even then it was better than it had been yesterday morning. The way the skin around the scabs seemed to cling to the dried blood always interested him. It made that portion of flesh all tight and shiny. Bruises intrigued him too, and there was currently no shortage of raised areas of purple, yellow, and red skin. He gently pushed down on a particularly dark bruise, watching as the skin changed color around his fingertip. It caused such a different pain, poking the bruise, and it was almost comforting that the same injury could cause such contrasting sensations.

Frank glanced down at Gerard now, he wanted to finally get his pants back on, if only to not make Gerard uncomfortable when he finally woke up. Using his free hand, he carefully shimmied the legs of his jeans back over his thighs and hips, struggling the most with buttoning using only one hand. He carefully pulled the blanket back over his shoulders and was about to close his eyes when he heard Gerard make the smallest noise in his sleep.

It was almost a sigh, but it sounded distinctly happy. Frank didn't move, trying his best not to wake Gerard up and have him think Frank was just staring at him while he slept. After a few moments, when Frank was sure Gerard was still asleep, he allowed himself to close his own eyes, and join him.

It wouldn't last long. The amount of time that passed was probably only an hour at most, but this time it was Gerard that woke up first. It took him a moment to realize where he was. He didn't exactly enjoy waking up in a strange place on the floor. It was the hand he was holding that he recognized first. Something about the tattoos on his wrist and the way the muscles on the back of his hand were defined made it instantly recognizable to him. It was the warmth, though, and the way Frank's skin felt so soft against his face that made the anxiety he was having dissipate. He heard Frank groan above him and figured that signified he was awake.

"Frank," Gerard said quietly, "Frankie, are you okay?"

Frank smiled to himself at the use of a nickname before leaning over the edge of the couch to look down at Gerard. His eyes were soft and puffy from sleep. "I'm okay, not in too much pain."

Gerard nodded before looking sheepishly back down at his hands still wrapped around Frank's, "I'm sorry I fell asleep here."

"It's fine," Frank brushed off the concern, "I wasn't going to send you home after everything anyway." He moved to sit up and Gerard moved his legs out of the way of Frank's path, "You want some coffee?"