Gerard's POV :

I came home a bit earlier than usual. I quickly got rid of my shoes, coat and suit and headed for Frank's bedroom to check on him.

I was so caught up in my thought, analyzing how the day went so far, that I forgot to knock. I opened the door and saw Frank on his bed.

His hand was getting agitated under his covers and I immediately understood at this and his features what he was doing.

Oh boy.

Oh boy.

Eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed and mouth hanging open, he seemed too focused on what he was doing to notice I was there - thank God, that would've been awkward.

A whimper escaped his lips and I immediately slipped away just as fast as I came in. I closed the door oh so quietly not to let him know I was there.

Once the door was closed, I leant back on it and exhaled. I shouldn't get too worked up about it though.
Frank is 16, it's normal for him to do these kinds of things. He has needs. I did that too when I was his age.

...Wow, okay, when did I become old enough to say 'when I was his age'? I hope I'm not turning into a 'boomer', as young people say.

Anyway, it's certainly not the first time Frank does this, it's just the first time I catch him.

I closed my eyes and sighed. Taking care of a teenager is harder than I thought. I never had to handle it before. I suppose that there is a first time to everything and I must learn.

Right when I was about to walk away, I heard a quite loud moan pass though the wooden door. And then, a name.

My name. Gerard.

My eyes shot open. Okay, I can assert that I didn't dream that because he just repeated it. My faced instantly turned crimson.

For sure, I'm the only Gerard Frank knows. What the hell? What does that mean?

Alright, alright. Let's calm down. What Frank does of his privacy is none of my business.

But still... This is so twisted.

I didn't want to just barge in an interrupt him. That wasn't a way of solving the problem.
I went to my bedroom and paced around. That was not something I could just brush off. That was a part of Frank's mental construction.

Surely, like any human beeing, Frank needed something to get off, and I'm what gets him o- No, gross. But it's the truth, apparently. Still gross.

Then again, it's Frank's life and even though this whole thing is wrong, I can't control his thoughts.

This is just a teen's fantasy. There's no harm in that, I guess. As long as it stays nothing but a fantasy.

•••
"Frank, dinner is served." I called, tapping my foot on the floor. I waited and sat at the dinning table. "Frank !"

I huffed. I swear to God-

Frank came out of his bedroom. "Sorry I kept you waiting," he said softly.

He planted a big kiss on my cheek and lightly grabbed my shoulder before sitting down. He ate everything I made, as usual. I know the kid, I know what he likes.

Frank stood up and put his plate in the dishwasher. He went to me.
I was expecting him to sit on my lap like he did from time to time but instead, he straddled me. I frowned, getting on my guard.

"Thank you Gee, that was delicious."

Frankie, Frankie, Frankie. What are you trying to accomplish here? What are you thinking about?

"What is it, Frank? Why are you being so nice all of a sudden? Do you have something to ask me? A new videogame, maybe?" I joked, but deep down, I knew there was much more going on.

Frank wrapped his arms around me and peered at me with burning eyes. Bedroom eyes.

"Mmh, why would you think that? I just like you, that's it." Frank shrugged but his mischievous smirk was telling another story. He brought me closer and pulled me in a hug.

"I really like you," he whispered, and I would bet everything I owned that he was teasingly breathing on my neck on purpose.

To what purpose? Well, that appeared pretty clear to me.

I gently pushed Frank away so he wasn't clung to my chest and coughed awkwardly.
"I care about you too Frank, you know that. You're like a son to me."

Frank hummed and peered at me with a little smile. His face was too close to mine for my liking.

I cringed on my seat, starting to get really uncomfortable.

"I look up to you so much, Gerard..." he whispered before biting his lower lip.

My heart rate increased slightly. I am, after all, human. When anxiety invests your heart, it sticks there whether you want it or not, like a dysfunctional heartbreak, a cage around your chest, a knot tightening around your throat.

He inched closer until his lips hovered over mine. "What is it, cat got your tongue? Too bad for me..." he purred.

I felt something bad, irreversible coming, so I immediately looked away to avoid it the best I could, too caught up in my rules of not hurting Frank.

Frank put his hands on my chest. I furrowed my eyebrows. "Frank, what do you think you doing?" I asked, frowning.

"Nothing..."
Frank was playing dumb, yet his hands moved down, coming dangerously close to a sensitive area of mine.

When his teenage hands were about to roam below the belt, I snapped and I stood up abruptly. I pushed Frank off me, forgetting all about that diplomacy of mine.
"Alright, I think that's enough."

Frank looked at me innocently. "What's wrong, Gerard?" he cooed. "What did I do?"

"I- Nothing. It's just- I'm tired." I said quite dryly. "You should go to bed, Frank."

"Gee..." Frank walk towards me but I took a step back.

"No!" I squeaked out and Frank looked at me confusedly. "I.. I think we all need to calm down and rest."

Frank seemed more surprised than anything else. Like he had expected me to... Well, to fall for his advances.

This can't be happening. What did I do wrong? When did this mess start? What is happening? Everything was fine a few weeks ago. No, it can't be happening. I must be dreaming. It must be-

"Gerard."

A hand on my shoulder made me jump. It was Frank's, of course, but this hand was strictly friendly. He looked worried by how agitated I got. His eyes were full of concern.

I was shaking lightly. I looked at the hand on my shoulder in horror, like it belonged to a zombie. I hardly commanded my body to grab Frank's wrist, which I did like an automate before taking it off my shoulder and throwing it away.

Frank took a step back, frowning confusedly, like I was acting like a maniac.

"I... I'm gonna go to bed." I blurted out, panting softly from overthinking. I scurried to my bedroom without even wishing Frank a good night.

Rude, I know, but I was too distraught to think about it. It was so confusing. This boy I knew as a child, so innocent, I... I...

I sat on the edge of my bed and hid my face in my hands. And then it hit me.

That's it, I can see what's going on. Frank is developing Stockholm Syndrome. And I have no idea of how to stop that.

I thought it only appeared when the mind feels unsafe and needs to delude itself with a feeling of love. Is Frank feeling unsafe here with me, or is it specifically his subconscious that causes trouble?

Maybe I protected him too much. Maybe I controlled him too much. After all, he is the only human being he has seen in three full years.

I suppose that the most obvious things are often the ones we are the blindest about.

Despite that, there is no way I'm sending back home, it's too soon. If I do, everything would have been pointless. No, I think the best thing to do is talk to him about the syndrom and bring some rationality into this mess of emotions.

Oh boy did I want to slap myself. I was too much of a coward to face Frank about his behavior earlier. It's too late for now, I missed my shot.

Stockholm syndrome...
I sighed and rand a hand though my hair. This is going to be a problem.

What if I'm overthinking again, though? I always do. What if Frank was just awkward this evening like he usually was?

Frank has always sat on my lap, he simply forgot that I had forbidden him to. Or did I? Maybe I forgot to tell him.

Yeah, maybe it's all a misunderstanding. Frank is affectuous and grew up awkward. That would make sense. That would explain it all.

Frankie just wanted to hug me.
Everything is alright.
I overreacted.

I went to bed with a smile on my face.
What an amazing kid Frank is. He's growing up so well, all happy and innocent.

______