---Patrick---

Young and reckless. Time seems to go by faster when you're happy. Or... happier...

I'm not happy. I'm still a mess. I'm still pathetic, but I'm starting to get better, that's what Dr. Strauss anyways. I... barely feel any better but I am a little less anxious around people, and I've found a little bit of a purpose in life. My self-esteem hasn't gotten any better yet... but that's okay. It will eventually, right?

Ever since I talked with Dad, I've felt a little calmer knowing he's getting better. Knowing he's trying. It bothers me, though... He knew about Kevin. He knew what Kevin did, and he did nothing. It makes me question if he really is a homophobe. Especially when he told me that he wanted me to be happy with Gerard. It creeps me out, though. It was incest. Everything Kevin was doing was incest. Even if he's not a homophobe, that has to cross a line. I guess it just never mattered to him. He never cared. Who would? I deserved it.

The need to cut has gotten worse and worse. I've found myself picking at my skin, desperate to have my adrenaline pumping again and have that sweet release again. Every time I've picked up the blade, though, I've always been able to put it back down and walk away. I can't break my promise to Gerard...

And... I've started thinking about Gerard in a different way. I... I think I want him... I don't know yet, and I'm still deciding, but the more I think about it, the more appealing it sounds. We've had plenty of blowjobs and handjobs, and I think I want to at least try to have... actual... y'know...

A month has passed. It's November 12th now, Saturday. It's been on my mind all fucking day, and it doesn't help that I've had a constant semi-boner all morning. I want to ask, but I keep having doubts. What if he isn't ready? What if... what if he asks if I'm a virgin and I have to tell him about what Kevin did? What if he thinks I'm disgusting when I tell him...? I feel like it was my fault that Kevin did what he did. I was the one who decided to come home that day. I was the one who he would choose over Megan and I. I'm relieved that he didn't pick Megan, I would never want him to do something like that to her, but it's still my fault that he... he raped me.

I was planning on saving myself until I was sure I was ready. I wanted to save my virginity for the one person I know I want to spend my life with. God, it sounds dumb now after what Kevin did. Why am I so fucking stupid?

I'm sitting at the dining room table now, my head down and earbuds in my ears. It seems to be my only escape right now since I don't have a blade at the moment and I can't help but let these things run through my head for what feels like the hundredth time. I want to so, so bad. What would it be like to take it slow? And actually enjoy it? What would it be like to feel him inside me...?

I shudder at the thought, and my pants begin to tighten even more. Goddammit.

Pathetic. You can't even think about him without making a fool out of yourself.

Shut up for once, please...

Nope!

Whatever...

I don't know if Gerard's too early to give up my... second virginity to. Is there such a thing?

No, you know it was your fault that he had sex with you. You ruined that forever ago, and now you have to face what you've done. You know he would immediately break up with it. God, you're such a whore. A slut. Quit putting labels to something that doesn't exist.

"You okay, Sugar?" Gerard asks, taking me from my thoughts. I pull my earbuds out, Jesus of Suburbia still playing but I don't care. I've missed most of the song anyways.

"Yea-" I cut myself off, remembering the promise I made forever ago, "No..."

He tilts his head, "What's wrong," He says, rubbing my shoulders. I feel a tear drip from my nose. Where did that come from?

"I..." I trail off, it's hard to say. I don't want to make him think I want him just for sex because that's not true. I know that's not true. I love him, "I... U-uh..."

"You want to save it for later?" His voice is gentle, but no I want him now.

"No, please," I sound like I'm begging, fuck, "I... uh... If you don't want to, it's fine, and w-we can wait but uh... I wanted to... maybe..." My breathing is shaky, why is this so hard? As I quickly search my mind for the right words, I decide the best way to put it is plainly, "I want you."

A blush immediately crosses my cheeks, embarrassment is the dominant emotion, and I see Gerard blush softly, too. In most of the same situation.

"Are you a... uh... virgin?" He asks.

I continue to look up at him, quickly considering my options here. I can lie and say yes, and he won't find out about Kevin... I don't want anyone to find out about Kevin. Nobody needs to know about it. The only people who know are him, me, and Megan. It doesn't matter. It was my fault. Why would I tell anyone unless I was looking for attention? But then again, it would be a lie and I'd be breaking a promise I made to Gerard.

But on the other hand I can tell the truth and say no. In which, I'd tell him about Kevin and more people would find out, possibly my therapist. I don't want more people to know about it. At the same time, I'd be telling the truth and it wouldn't break a promise.

Or I could avoid it altogether. I don't need sex. It's not like Gerard would even want to do it with me. I'm a pig. Fat, chubby, ugly.

I lower my eyes, "N-Nevermind, it's stupid, sorry."

"No, Sugar, wait. I want to, I'm ready... I'd be okay with this, I need to know if you're a virgin." He croons. I can't tell him because it was my fault and he's going to think I'm a slut and a whore and... I can't do this. I'm going to puke.

"N-no," I answer truthfully.

He squeezes my shoulders a bit harder, worried. And then he replies, and his voice is so gentle and soft I can barely hear it. It's just over a whisper and the words that leave have enough power to make me freeze up and panic, "Was it... Was it Kevin?"

He guessed right. He knows it was my fault. He knows how much of a slut and a whore I am. He knows he knows, he knows, and it kills me inside. He's going to beat me, he's going to hurt me so badly. I don't want it. So I do what I always do: I lock myself up. I freeze up, my breathing hitches, I stare off at the ground and try to process words that can't seem to come to mind. I find myself whispering out the words with no emotion, "It was my fault. I'm sorry."

"Hey, hey, Baby, you have nothing to say sorry about. Please, I want you to understand that. You think it's your fault? That he raped you? You need to listen to me, it's not your fault, okay?"

"Yes, it is! I'm not a virgin anymore. I wanted to save it for someone but I was so stupid, and I knew he would do it. I fucking knew and still, I went there and I- I- I'm so sorry. I trust you so much, and I wasted it and... I'm so so sorry..." I can't stop shaking and stuttering, and it's making the words inaudible.

"Patrick, shh," He runs his fingers through my hair, pulling me close and letting me freak out into his chest, "It wasn't your fault, okay?"

I shake my head. It was. It was all my fault. Everything he did to me was my fault. Everything Dad did to me was my fault. Her death was my fault. It was all me. Everything.

"Do you trust me?" He asks a little more gently.

I look up at him, hesitantly, but I still nod softly, backing away from him the slightest.

"Did you consent to what he did?"

I shake my head.

"Did you tell him to stop?"

I nod.

"Then it wasn't your fault, understand?" I nod, "Good, and because it wasn't your fault you're a virgin, do you understand?" I nod, again, it's a half lie, but I'm a little more enthusiastic about this one, "You've still saved your virginity, okay?"

I bite my lip. Could I really... Could this actually work out?

"Are you sure about this? Do you want to do this?" He asks gently, "We can wait if you're not ready and if you think it might trigger you, we don't have to. I want you to enjoy it because that's what... that's what sex is supposed to do. This is from me to you and you to me. It's emotional. It's... more than just the pleasure, y'know?"

I take a breath and after a moment, I reply, "Yeah, I wanna do it..."

A smile creeps across his mouth as he blushes softly and admits, "I don't exactly have a condom."

"I," I blush, a little worried, "Are you clean?"

He nods vigorously, "Of course, you don't see me popping seven pills a day, do you?"

Well, I kinda do, but it's got nothing to do with STDs. I know that. I manage a smile and nod, "Okay, it's fine."

He looks up at the clock, it's 6 which means we have two hours before Donna is supposed to come home. I'm excited but nervous as he leads me into the bedroom and softly pulls me under him on the bed. I know I'm not taking off my shirt... I'm still not comfortable with it, but that's okay... I... I know this is the right choice. He saved my life. He's helped me with my anxiety and depression and PTSD and... everything. The only thing he can't do is the one thing nobody can do. My self-esteem is still horrible and I know I'm an ugly fuck. Gerard can't change that. Nobody can.

"I'm taking this slow," Gerard whispers, stroking my hips, "I want you to enjoy this as much as I will, okay?"

"W-Whatever pace you want is fine," I blush, looking away as he begins to kiss my neck and grind on me softly.

"Slow. We'll both like it more. Trust me," My breathing almost immediately gets uneven, and I have to stifle a moan, trying not to sound like the slut I am when he nibbles the sensitive skin on my neck.

He kisses my lips, his are soft, and they taste just like the coffee he drank this morning with that hint of sugar. It tastes so good, beautiful. I love it so much, I pull him in harder by the back of his head feeling him begin to lick into my mouth and run his fingers up and down my sides. The sound of spit and smooching echoes through the room each time our lips part, but it's kind of a satisfying sound. It sends my heart fluttering in my chest and my hands grasping his shirt. He takes it as a move to begin to unzip my jacket.

"W-Wait," I blurt out, gasping for breath, "D-don't..."

He looks up and shakes his head, a worried glance in his eyes.

"I need you to trust me with everything, 'Trick," He says, "If you don't trust me looking at all of you, I can't do this."

My breaths become a little slower as I realize what he's saying. Am I really ready to show him? I'm sure he's seen but that... that was different. That was when I was unconscious in the hospital for six days straight. I couldn't stop that. I... I want to do this but I'm terrified of what he'll think. Terrified he'll hurt me. But... he wants me to show him...

And I will.

I give him a belated nod, placing his hands back on the zipper of my hoodie and giving him permission to continue. He zips it the rest of the way down and throws it to the floor before he pulls my shirt up over my head, slowly as he takes in the mess of... me...

The shirt now lays forgotten on the floor as his eyes dart over the secrets I've kept from him for so long. The messy U-G-L-Y on my stomach. My misshapen stomach. The various scars scattered across my skin, fading away to dark marks on the pale surface. I don't know what's worse, his reaction or the fact that I'm letting him do this. He looks devastated, pain in his eyes as he takes it all in. The only thing he can manage is a small, "I love you..."

"I love you, too."

He kisses me softly, trailing his fingers up my chest and kissing down my neck. I let out a soft moan as he makes as many marks as he can, sucking and nibbling on my neck. My eyes roll back in pleasure when he grinds a little harder, he's hard, and I can feel it. It's fucking hot but at the same time, scary.

"You're beautiful, Patrick, you know that, right?" He asks.

I roll my eyes with a ghost of a smile on my lips.

"You are," He whispers, "Don't you believe me?"

I bite my lip and shake my head, "No, not really..."

He huffs out frustrated, "Then I guess I'll have to show you." He runs his fingers through my hair as he kisses me, "I love the color of your hair, the way it feels under my fingers. I love running my fingers through it, and I love tugging it when I can. It's soft, and it smells really nice, too." He kisses me again, I can't help but kiss back because his lips are addicting and my heart is fluttering and I don't know what else to do, "I love your eyes, I love how they crinkle when you smile, and I love the green and the blue. I want to paint them someday. Don't let anyone take the light behind your eyes because the world might be ugly but you're beautiful to me."

He bites my lip this time, tugging it softly and it makes me melt a little inside, squirming because I'm beginning to hurt from the strain in my jeans. He continues, "I love your lips. I love how soft they are and how sweet they taste. How sweet you taste." He kisses down my jawline, forcing my chin up as he hums into my sensitive skin, "I love your neck because I can mark you mine. I love how much you moan when I kiss, and lick, and bite you there." He kisses down my chest and sucks on one of my nipples. My face goes a dark red with embarrassment because holy shit is that weird but damn do I love it. He kisses down my chest to my stomach, it's so disgusting. I'm disgusting. I don't understand how he could have anything nice to say about it but he does, "I love your stomach because it's a perfect size. You shouldn't change yourself to look beautiful for people because you're perfect just the way you are, understand? You are beautiful."

I hum in understanding, my voice is deep as I try to hold back a groan. Gerard continues to kiss down to just above my waistline, and he proceeds to unzip my jeans with his teeth, keeping an intense gaze on me. That alone is enough to make me come, and I can't help but let out a moan, "You get the sighs and the moans just right, Sugar, I love that, too."

Gerard has to look down for a moment to finish pulling off my pants, and he kisses my milky white legs, "I love your thighs, too, they're beautiful, and I love how..." He sucks right where he knows I'm extremely sensitive and I have to let out a needy moan, "I can make you moan with just my lips." His hands trail up to my hips where he kisses for a little bit sucking and licking and biting mixed in, "I love your hips because that's where I can hold onto while I make you scream."

A wildfire spreads through my cheeks as he continues to kiss back up to my lips, "Do you see now? You're beautiful to me, you're so, so beautiful and I don't want you to ever think differently because I love you and it hurts me to know you hate how you look..."

I kiss him again, a smile across my lips. Does he really think that? Does he really think I look beautiful?

His hands trail down my stomach, leaving goosebumps in his path. It feels like fire on my cold skin as I pull off his jacket and shirt, throwing it on top of my own shirt and I don't know what comes over me but the next thing I know, he's under me, and I'm kissing his neck, exploring and trying something new. I've never been on top before, but I think I kind of like it.

"Fuck, Patrick," He breaths when my mouth goes down, down, down.

I yank off his pants, getting more and more and more desperate but I still somehow take my time in it, my eyes taking in every detail because I want to remember this. I want to remember what's about to happen until I die. I don't care that he might leave me because I want him so goddamn bad.

As soon as his underwear is off, I can't help but blush softly because we both know what comes next and I'm beginning to have second thoughts. Maybe I'm not ready, maybe I want to save my "virginity" for another man. Maybe this isn't the right choice.

At the same time, though, I know I'm in love with Gerard: I'd do anything for him, and he'd do anything for me. I love him. I love him so much, and I haven't been surer of anything in my life, I want this. I want him.

As if he can see the hesitation in my eyes, he flips us back over so he's on top and then there's a blade of fear that pierces my stomach, "A-am I taking this dry?" I ask, panicking slightly. Isn't that supposed to hurt? Like a lot? Well shit, I'd know. Kevin did that and it sure as hell didn't feel right.

"No, no, no," He reaches over with a soft smile and opens his bedside drawer to grab a bottle of lube.

A blush crosses my face, what the hell does he use that for?

"Uh... personal use..." he says, his voice quiet. Shit, did I say that out loud? "Wanna take this slower, Kay? Want you to know I love you," he kisses me, his fingers tangling in my hair and his lips soft against mine, "This is gonna last, I love you. Love you so damn much."

He pulls away, black hair a mess above his sincere brown eyes, and a small smile tugging at those coffee lips, "I want you to forget about him. About everything. I just want you to think of me. Remember that it doesn't matter anymore. It's all in the past and you're so beautiful. So beautiful, I dunno what I'd do without you."

I smile into his lips, my hand reaching out to cup his jaw, "I love you, too. I..." I bite my lip, "I don't want to spend my life with anyone else."

"Me neither," he whispers, pressing our lips together again.

He leans back, and I watch intently as his nervous hands begin to spread the lube along his fingers, "I'm um... gonna stretch you, so it doesn't hurt as much so just... try to bare with me and keep your eyes on me..."

I nod in understanding, his eyes are glued to his fingers as he bites his lip and starts with one. I wince slightly, but it doesn't hurt too bad it just feels really, really weird. He slides it as far in as he can and looks up at me, searching my face for any sort of pain or pleasure or... really anything.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, it um... feels kind of weird but keep going..." I reply, a slight blush in my cheeks. He gives me a soft nod before he leans forward to kiss me, thrusting it in a few times, it starts to feel a little better but not much.

He adds a second, pulling his lips away. This one begins to hurt, not by much but still enough to make my breathing uneven. He wiggles it around, careful to slide each digit across my walls and stretching me as well as he can as to not cause me any pain, then adds a third. This one burns, and it does not feel pleasureful. I can't stop the whine that leaves my mouth.

"Hold on..." He twists his fingers around, and soon enough there's a burst of pleasure as he rubs a particular spot, and this is strange but holy shit it feels amazing.

"Shit!" I moan out, bucking my hips up and I don't understand how it feels so good.

Gerard chuckles slightly and holds my hips down as he mercilessly rubs it. I'm going to cum, and he's not even going to touch my leaking cock.

"S-stop..." I moan, half begging.

He pulls his fingers back and thrusts them in a few times, stretching me out. It hurts but it feels good. Pleasure is beginning to engulf me.

"Okay, I'm gonna um... put myself inside you... if you want me to stop, just let me know." He says. I nod in understanding and watch as he slides more lube across his length. On the inside, though, I can't process anything except for holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

"Are you sure?" He asks one last confirmation.

"Yes," I whisper, "please..."

He grabs my hips (which makes me flinch), pulling me a little closer and my eyes are glued on what's happening as he lines up and begins to slide in.

I grip the sheets almost immediately. I feel all my control leave my fingertips as my eyes shut. It hurts. It hurts so bad, and I hate it. It feels like Kevin... it feels like what he did to me, and I beg silently to myself that the images won't come back.

"Patrick," he shouts, "Are you still with me?"

I nod, but I can't open my eyes. I can't. I'm scared I'll see Kevin. I'm scared I'll be back in my room on September 23rd. Terrified he'll be over me. Terrified...

"Open your eyes." He demands.

I squeeze them further shut and shake my head.

"Patrick, open your eyes, or I will pull out."

I can't help but comply, tears lining the green pools of confliction. I don't want him to hurt me, but I trust he won't. It's Gerard, "It's just me. I'm the only one here, you're going to be just fine." His voice soothes me, "Deep breath," I breath in and out, "Relax and try not to uh... clench... I guess... um..." we both blush at his choice of words but I quickly comply, and he begins sliding in a little easier, applying more lube as he goes.

It hurts a lot. It feels like hell, but I've been to hell. I would take this over hell any day.

His pants are what really gets me, the way his voice just barely laces each breath. The way how each exhale comes out as more of a whine than a breath. It's like hearing heaven. It's completely worth the pain. Anything to hear those beautiful sounds.

"There..." he whispers, all the way in. It's getting to be really awkward, but at the same time, I really don't give a fuck because holy shit this is starting to feel good, too, "Tell me when I can move. I don't want to hurt you."

I don't do anything to signal to him that I heard because I'm returning to that haze again. The headspace where I can just kind of zone out and forget. To completely surround myself with pleasure. To forget about everything but this. I feel happy. I feel so fucking happy when I'm in this haze now. It makes me feel at peace unlike how Kevin made it feel. As I wait for the pain to subside, I count his breaths. One, two, three, four, five...

I'm at about twelve when I give him a small nod, focusing back in on him.

He does nothing, though.

I look up at him to see his head down, eyes fluttering across my body. He probably didn't get the signal, "Hey, I'm ready."

Gerard looks up almost immediately but I'm taken aback when I see tears in his eyes and my eyes immediately widen, "are you okay? What's wrong?"

He smiles softly, but it's not broken. It's not sad. He's... happy. Gerard wipes the tears from his cheeks and sniffles, coming a little closer.

"I love you so much, Trick..." he whispers, "don't wanna lose you. Don't wanna share you."

I find my own eyes begin to tear up and I instinctively pull him close, my lips meeting his and my eyes squeezing shut. He hugs right back, his cock pressing deeply inside me but that's completely out of mind. It's just him and I and nobody else.

Gerard pulls back when he begins to run out of breath, I wipe the tears from his coffee eyes and after one last peck, I reply, "I'm yours. I promise."

"How strong are your promises?" He whispers.

"I have yet to break one," I reply instinctively.

With that, he pulls out, only to thrust back in, gentle, caring.

I've never wanted him closer.

I will admit, it feels weird, the pain is beginning to fade, and it doesn't exactly feel good but it's not the physicality of it that necessarily brings me comfort. It's the emotional effect that comes with it. He starts up a slow pace above me, wanting to start it before kissing me but I can tell it's getting hard to focus on thrusting and kissing at the same time.

After a moment, I focus my attention back on Gerard, and I pull him down and kiss his lips, desperate for his touch. He kisses back with those coffee lips, moving them slowly against mine in such a way that is satisfying but still somehow not enough. I want more. I want him to do something else. Something, anything. This feels amazing as it is, but I need some sort of stimulation because while it's nice to have him thrusting in and out of me, our bodies this close with no boundaries. Nothing but love. Nothing but him and me and me and him. I'm not getting much pleasure.

He rolls his hips against mine, the pain gone and my fears have disappeared with it. Gerard presses his forehead against mine, letting me roll my eyes back and buck my hips up needily. There isn't a single word exchanged. Only our silent communication and I don't mind it. I honestly really like it. I love how I just know what he wants. What he needs. I love how he's so content. How I'm making him whine and pant. How I can make him this weak. While I don't have control, I still have control. I can stop him. I can get him to feel good, and I want to make him feel good.

He pulls back and swallows nervously before he stops for a moment. I whimper at the loss of movement, but soon enough he starts up again at a slightly different angle and-

"HOLY SHIT!" I basically scream out. He digs his fingers into my hips as he brushes my prostate over and over again, hitting the bundle of nerves with a soft force that only gets stronger and stronger. I'm happier now, more content because I finally have stimulation and fuck this is nice. I roll my hips back up against him, desperate for more friction.

He chuckles at my words and actions and kisses me as he continues to hit right there. My grunts begin to build up, and the only stopping me from screaming in ecstasy is how slow my orgasm is coming. I swear he's trying to torture me with it.

"Touch yourself, Patrick," he whispers, so quietly I can barely hear it over the slapping of skin. It sends goosebumps up my milky white skin, but I comply my hand going to my length and beginning to palm it. My head is thrown back as the bed squeaks under us, his hips moving faster and faster against mine. Sweat rolls down my neck and exhaustion is honestly becoming a problem, but I can tell he's close considering he's basically slamming into me and the loudest sound in the room is the squeaky bed as the headboard hits the wall and the sound of skin against skin.

"I love you so fucking much," he moans softly, "So much, goddamn."

"I love you, too..." I whisper it's hard to find my voice in the haze of pleasure bursting through me and not to mention he's constantly kissing my lips and our tongues are always exploring. I love it. I love this. I love him.

My hand goes a bit faster, and I can feel my climax coming up soon. It's finally on its way and as I whimper, my thumb rubbing over the head of my length, Gerard slams hard into my prostate, a yelp of pleasure escaping my throat.

"I-I'm there, fuck, I'm gonna come." I breathe, my eyes are blown with lust.

He barely has time to register it before it's shooting across our stomachs. I'm dully aware of my muscles clenching all the way up to my shoulders, my eyes rolling back into my head, Gerard's lips doing their own kind of wonders on my neck as my sweat slicked back arches off the bed, and finally the scream of pleasure that leaves my throat. I feel him come at nearly the same time inside of me. It feels strangely fantastic but not so amazing when it begins sliding back down.

He collapses on top of me, panting heavily just after he's pulled out. We lay there for a long while, listening to each other's breath begin to slow back to a normal pace, and my fingers run lazily through his hair.

He shakily goes to his hands and kisses me slowly, I kiss back, too tired to pull him any deeper, "You want to take a shower?" He asks, brushing my bangs from my eyes.

"Please, I feel disgusting." I laugh. He pulls me up, taking a quick glance at the time. 6:42.

"Not half bad," Gerard says with a smirk. My face turns a dark red again as he pulls me into the bathroom and locks the door, turning on the light.

He quickly goes and starts the water, but I'm distracted by my reflection. My fat stomach, my lumpy, damaged arms. It's disgusting, and it makes me want to puke.

"Patrick..." Gerard asks, pulling me close to him from behind, "I need to ask you a serious question..."

I nod, "hmm?"

He sways us back and forth slowly, pressing his nose against my neck and shutting his eyes. His dark black hair tickles my own nose, and I scrunch it up softly at the feeling.

"Do you believe you're beautiful?" He asks.

It's hard to consider the question, I don't know if I do or not.

Do I? Am I really beautiful? Or am I really just an ugly faggot like everyone says I am?

I'd say the latter.

I look at myself in the mirror and see a fat slob, ugly, disgusting, pathetic. What does Gerard see? A handsome man? How? He told me he loves my hair and my eyes, my lips and my stomach, my thighs and my hips. He said he loves me. He told me not to try to change myself for other people because the world is ugly but I'm beautiful to him. Is that true...?

"I don't know..." I whisper truthfully.

"What do you mean?" He asks.

"I want to say yes, but it's a lie." I turn to him, "I wanna say no, but that's a lie, too..."

He hugs me close, and it takes all my will not to pay attention that our dicks are basically rubbing at this point.

"I'll make you believe." He whispers, "I promise."

"How strong are your promises?"

"I have yet to break one."