Billababe (the_mourning) wrote in bunnyficcorner,
Billababe
the_mourning
bunnyficcorner

Black Holes And Revelations 8/?



Title: Black Holes And Revelations
Author: The_Mourning and my wonderful friend, Matt.
Pairing: Frank/Gerard, Bob/Ray
Rating: R
Summary: Frank, a 17 year old boy, is simply at the wrong place at the wrong time. What happens when he finds out the crazy phycopath that kidnapped him isn't what he seems?
Warnings: Murder, Death, a Nymphomaniac, swearing (a lot of that), attempted rape, angst, awkward fluff, sex (Implied)
Dedications!!: Firstly, To Africa ([info]sammich_is_luv ) who's a good enough freind to put up with my shitty hand writting to actually type and edit this for me. I LOVE YOU, MAN!! And secondly, to all those loverly people who have taken the time to go through and actually read this crap I write.
Thanks so much!! <333
Disclaimer: Writes lie. Just like your parents... And your teachers

Previous Chapters

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I woke up alone; not an unfamiliar feeling, but I could hear the sounds of the shower. I rolled onto my back, stretching, noticing I was still naked. I sat up slowly, running a hand over my inked chest sleepily, scanning the floor for the bag. I located it, leaned over and pulling out a fresh pair of boxers, and slid them on. I flopped back down and shuttered my eyes again, hoping to maybe fall back asleep.

I must have, because when I woke up again, I felt a slight dampness against my skin. It was vaguely uncomfortable. I opened my eyes, looking up at Gerard. I had apparently rolled against him whilst sleeping, and since, you know, he only had boxers on (well, at least he was covering himself up) there was a lot of damp skin exposed.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Gerard said. Smiling, not taking his eyes of the TV set.

“Fer the second time, sure.” I mumbled, stretching again.

“Yeah, I know, cause all of the sudden you’ve got underwear on.”

“Whatever,” I sighed. “Whe—“

“I DON’T LIKE IT.” dictates Gerard, shouting, but also in complete monotone.

 “Umm…” That was a little off-putting, but, I guess to be expected of him. I pushed myself up so I was sitting. “I’m gonna go take a shower.” I slid out of the bed, feeling Gerard’s eyes on my back as I grabbed some clothes.

“M’kay,” he paused, then continued and I could hear the smirk in his voice, “Have fun!”

I turned, scowling, and went into the bathroom.

((\\ ,.*.,//))

Around twenty minutes later, I was out of the shower with a towel wrapped around my waist. I heard a knock on the bathroom door, and before I could say a thing, he opened the door.

“I hope you’re dressed or at least covered up,” Gerard laughed.

“What?” I said, almost indignant sounding.

“Whatcha want for breakfast? I’ll go get it.”

I thought for a second. “Just whatever. I don’t care.” I shrugged again.

“Oh, what a help you are, Frankie-boy,” Gerard shook his head sadly, and closed the door again. Confused, I also shook my head dispiritedly and finished dressing. I opened the door, and Gerard was standing there, as if he had left the bathroom before and then hadn’t moved from the spot directly outside it. Freaky. “I forgot there’s breakfast in the lobby. Come on.” He grabbed my hand, and pulled me out the door behind him.

Breakfast was short and uneventful. We got there pretty much as the breakfast maids were starting to clean up, but there were still a few drowsy businessmen sitting around, so we weren’t completely alone. I ate froot loops with chocolate milk. Gerard called me childish, and my resulting comeback to prove him completely wrong was to call him a doodie-head. He snorted coffee out his nose. I, very indignantly, led the way to the room again.

As soon as I was in the door I began to untie my shoes – damn Chucks – while Gerard went and sat down. Or so I thought.

I felt his hand on my shoulder, startling me, causing me to trip backwards ending up against the door. Then his other hand was on my neck and his tongue in my mouth before I could even process what was happening. Without thinking about it, I wrapped my arms around his neck, letting him do as he pleased. Maybe froot loops get him hot and bothered, I found myself thinking quite randomly. The thought that followed directly afterwards was Why the fuck would I think that with a man’s tongue down my throat? A minute later, as quickly as it had started, Gerard pulled away from me, smirking. My arms fell to my sides as I watched him go sit down in a chair, picking up a pen and pulling a pad of hotel stationary towards himself.

 I sighed, a bit confused, and slid down the door so I could take off my other shoe.

((\\ ,.*.,//))

A while later, I was getting fed up with Gerard’s random glances. He’d scribble something on the paper, then slide a sneaky look at me and scribble out something more. This process proved to be really annoying when repeated for almost two hours.

“What are you doing?”

“Huh?” Gerard looked up at me, obviously not hearing what I said.

“What are you doing?” I repeated, getting up from where I was laying on the bed.

“Nothing,” he answered, smiling a little.

“Seriously.”

“Nothing!” he insisted, standing and wow…actually sitting on the pad so I couldn’t see it.

“You are so weird,” I sighed, shaking my head, and retreating back to the bed again, flopping back down. And he called me childish.

I heard Gerard mumble something inaudible and pull the pad of paper from under his ass. He ripped off whatever he’d been working on, starting in on a new one. I laughed quietly, and Gerard glared at me. “Shut up!”

Awhile later, my stomach growled loudly. “When are we eating?”

“Now?” Gerard asked, standing and abandoning the pad. He abruptly made a beeline for the door. I followed him down into the parking lot, and within fifteen minutes we were seated at the same small diner we had attended almost a week ago. There was even the same aging lady serving us. Hmmm, strange.

She gave us menus, smiling kindly. I decided on the first thing I saw; spaghetti. Gerard got the same. My pale-faced captor looked up at me suddenly. “Frank?”

“What?” I glanced up quickly – the serious tone in his voice was wrong. I discovered his kohl-rimmed eyes could be really disconcerting when they were focused with such intent. I blushed.

“Do you think anyone’s looking for you?”

The heat from my cheeks drained away. I stared at him, meeting his almost-worried expression while I thought, sipping Coke quietly with a bendy straw. Much deliberation, however, wasn’t really needed. “No,” I answered quietly. And I looked away.

“Why? I mean, what is up with your mom? Does she really not care?”

“Nope, with us gone, there’s just more money for drugs and booze. Besides, if she was ever sober enough to realize we were missing, it’s not like she could or would go the police. You could smell the pot and vodka on her from a mile away.” I spoke carefully, in a measured pace, staring pointedly at my hands that were folded in front of me. Gerard said nothing after hearing my response, making me look up. Was that understanding in his eyes?

“Kid, you are more like me then you will probably ever know,” he sighed.

Before I could say anything, our waitress came back with our lunch. Gee smiled tightly and thanked her.

“What do you mean by that?” I was confused.

“I’ll tell you later…maybe. Eat.” There was a small smile on his lips as he picked up his fork and twirled it around on his plate. I forked a meatball in mock frustration.

Once we were both done, we stood and went to the front of the store to pay. In the middle of transaction I saw Gerard lift his head and look around, eyebrows knitted together, like he was looking for something - or someone, perhaps?- in particular. After finishing paying we went outside, taking a few steps towards the car when Gerard froze.

“Shit,” Gerard hissed under his breath, just loud enough so I could hear.

“Wha-“I stopped. I could hear it now; blaring sirens, getting closer. Fast.

“C’mon,” he muttered, grabbing my hand roughly and leading me quickly around the side of the building to the back. Once securely out of sight, he stopped, not releasing my hand, but shifting our fingers so that they meshed slightly.

“Frank, I need you to listen to me,” He muttered ever so quietly, locking my gaze with his. I nodded automatically.

 “I need you to go back to the hotel. It’s not far, just follow the road back. And when you get there, you go straight for the room, and you’re going to fucking lock that bitch up tight and not let anyone in except me. And you’ll know, trust me.”

 He paused, swallowing, “And if - …and if I’m not back in three days, find my phone and call anyone on speed dial and tell them what’s happened, and that you need someone to come and get you, okay?”

I nodded quickly, again. A tight, worried smile had taken over his usual nonchalant demeanor. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to my forehead, lingering slightly, before he turned. “Also, get all our stuff together 'cause if -and when- I come back, we’re getting the fuck out of here.”

Then he was gone, bolting down the alley heading away from the diner. I watched him go, feeling utterly overwhelmed all of a sudden. Once I really couldn’t see him anymore, I turned and made my way back around the building, with the sirens screaming closer and closer and panic just beginning to claw at the bottom of my stomach

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