Frank was rarely the first one to come out of his room in the morning hours, most of the time he laid awake as he watched the sunrise, waiting patiently to hear Gerard shuffling around before coming out for the day with his eyes glued to the ceiling. Even though he often had trouble getting to sleep, especially now without his antipsychotics, he still couldn't move once the sun was up. He supposed that it was due to the house still being a bit unfamiliar, it didn't feel right to wander a house that felt like a stranger's. He was sure that if Gerard could hear his thoughts he'd be disappointed, not in him, never in him, but in fact Frank didn't feel at home here. In reality he didn't think he'd ever feel at home in a place as large as Gerard's, the walls were tall and the counters were marble, all of the unnecessary space was too foreign to him. However he did enjoy finding new parts of the house he'd never spotted before like the large room-like closets and such. His face lit up at every little surprise, not being able to leave when you please made everyday things seem incredible.

The light from the windows softly crept in from behind the curtains, making the kitchen look and feel less cold. He was hungry, though he knew Gerard would eventually wake up and ask him what he wanted him to make for the two of them so he decided food could wait. He collected a few stray mugs and plates left out on the counters from the guest, Gerard's brother apparently, the night before. He placed everything in the sink just to declutter. He could almost hear his mother making some backhanded compliment about how he was disgustingly messy on the regular yet cleaning up under these odd circumstances, usually he'd grumble out something angsty but now even the thought of her belittling him made his eyes burn with bitter tears.

Times like this were when he craved to be angry at Gerard, to hate and despise him as he should but it was impossible. Just the thought of his apologetic face, looking all desperate for his forgiveness after making him cry softened his heart to mush. The butterflies that he got in his stomach when thinking of how Gerard had so caringly embraced him last night made him nauseous. Maybe he was touch starved or just plain crazy but he'd rather end it all right then and there in the kitchen than dissect whatever traitorous emotions made him blush when thinking of the man who snatched his life away.

He tried to think of the most disturbing things he could like cannibalism and perpetual suffering to distract himself into getting his head back straight, though he didn't need to for long before a paper caught his eye on the other end of the counter.

At first glance he noticed a boy surrounded by an abundance of text but after a brief moment of impeccable investigation he came to the conclusion that that boy was in fact him from just a few months ago. His hair was a bit shorter, picture day from school last year, he'd been 16 then.

The photo was displayed in the hall leading to his room back home, one of the most recently added to his Mother's large collections of pictures hung up. He grimaced at such a personal part of his life being displayed in the newspaper for anyone to see. Maybe because the photo had already existed in his own house for a year, growing familiar to it in such a private setting only for it to be plastered on the front page but it made Frank want to destroy every copy of it that'd been printed nonetheless. It hadn't quite set in yet, the bold text declaring him a missing youth and the eerie description of him that was exact.

When it finally did his legs became weak, he grasped onto the edges of the marble to stabilize himself as he took in a shaky breath. He was missing. His mother had no idea what happened to him, from her perspective he'd disappeared on the way to school and never came back home. He couldn't imagine the pain and worry she must be going through as he stood, untouched and relatively fine in some asshole's expensive kitchen. He felt the thick tears escape his eyes and didn't even bother to wipe them, his heart ached far too much for him to move even an inch. He was immobilized as he sobbed trying to be quiet but the little painful chokes clawed their way from his burning throat. He couldn't have stopped this, it was all Gerard's fault and he knew deep down that his mother could never blame him for something like this but the guilt was still heavy and stinging in his chest. He wanted her to be able to hold him again, or better yet, hold her. They were so close that it was bordering unhealthy and he could feel her pain, the same pain, how indescribably anguishing it would be, if she'd suddenly disappeared to leave him wondering what could've possibly happened. 

He yelped, nearly collapsing out of fear as he felt two hands at each of his biceps, not moving just holding him there. He craned his neck to see behind him, Gerard's concerned face calming him down only a little bit.

"Christ," Frank muttered.

"What's happened?" Gerard asked.

His voice was oozing with sympathy and solicitude. Frank wanted to be pissed off, it was Gerard who'd put him in this situation in the first place but it felt like the most genuine expression he'd ever laid eyes on.

"You have a newspaper with my face on it. I'm missing." Frank said. It was straight to the point, not even allowing himself to get emotional.

Gerard didn't seem to even take the time to think before saying, "Of course I do."

Frank made a face, one that Gerard couldn't make out.

"I hope it didn't upset you, you know you're not missing though, you're with me," Gerard clarified for him, "You're crying again, why?"

"My mother doesn't know where I am," Frank found himself saying. It made his chest tight just admitting it outloud, "I'm in the fucking newspaper, it's not right she's probably suffering."

Gerard's hand was moving up and down his arm now, quietly shushing him, he hated it, he didn't want to be consoled.

"Stop." He said, pushing Gerard away by the arm. He barely budged but the message was received as he backed away on his own.

His anger was making it difficult to feel bad for yelling as he usually would, for that he was mostly grateful. 

"You didn't like that," Gerard said after a few moments.

Frank stared at him blankly.

"Me touching you." He clarified.

The distance between the two was comfortable enough but Frank hesitated before shaking his head, like he was scared of giving him the wrong answer.

"Then I'll stop, I won't do anything you aren't okay with, just say the word, as long as it's within reason of course." He smiled a bit, and Frank looked away, sighing. Gerard followed his gaze down to the paper. "If you want me to put the newspaper away I can do that."

Frank nodded, looking surprisingly thankful as Gerard quickly tucked the paper away into a cabinet, treating it as if it were a newborn.

During the evening Gerard painted. There was an entire room for that, he'd only been introduced to it by an unenthusiastic wave of the hand in passing it. He assumed that it wasn't very interesting, probably just a boring old room with a desk and lamp but he couldn't have been more wrong.

One of the two desks in the room was covered completely by art supplies and dried paints, there was no way Gerard had used it within the last few years looking at the collection of clutter. There was another on the separate end of the room that had a laptop, stained with bright miscellaneous colors on the keys, and three different supposedly empty to-go coffee cups. The room was mostly naturally lit, with blackout curtains that were drawn back allowing the twilight to cast an orange glow over the room.

Frank sat criss cross on a large pillow in the corner with a blanket tossed over his bare legs as he watched Gerard's skilled brush dance across the canvas. At his angle, he couldn't see what was being painted but he was almost positive that it was beautiful enough to bring tears to his eyes. The concentration of Gerard's face and the fluidity of his fingers was mesmerizing. He'd never seen anyone care so much about something, he seemed to be so besotted with whatever he was creating, Frank felt like he was third-wheeling. He humored the idea of himself  being jealous of a paint stained canvas but it wasn't too much of a joke.

Gerard had noticed Frank nearly falling asleep as he was making dinner for the two and so he suggested that they move their meal to the art room so that Frank could relax, eat and still be blessing him with his presence as he was able to work on a commission, he told him.

Frank had been exhausted since that morning, it made him unbearably stressed and paranoid to see himself printed on that newspaper and he felt like his body was attempting to shut down under all of the pressure. Something like this usually wouldn't have such a horrible effect on him but under his current circumstances he had no idea how bad his symptoms could get. Gerard noticed and wasn't quite sure how to bring it up, and so he didn't. He didn't ask why Frank kept fidgeting or why he'd look behind himself every once in a while. He could tell that something was off and bothering him but he didn't want to add anymore stress onto Frank's back without being sure how to confront him about it. Until then, he tried his best to make the boy as comfortable as he could. He made his favorite meal and put together a cozy little corner in his art room for Frank to fall asleep in if he needed too.
The boy didn't ask many questions about it, but the awe on his tired face was enough to show his curiosity.
He watched with periodic glances to the corner Frank was slumped in as his eyes slipped closed. He was rather glad that he'd fallen asleep now, he was finally still, without the fidgeting and looking around at his surroundings it was much easier to capture each detail of the boy's face. He tried not to be too obvious, staring and such, as he drew. He wasn't sure how Frank would take to, ontop of all that he'd been through the past two days, being drawn without his consent. Eventually, he did plan on showing Frank. Maybe even one day, when he was more comfortable with Gerard, he'd even show him his collection of sketches he'd accumulated through the years of observing Frank. Admiring him was much easier now with him being right in front of him finally.

Once he was finished, (at least for today, since he found himself coming up with something to add or fix each time he looked at a "finished" piece) he put everything away haphazardly, tossing his clean brushes onto the monstrosity of junk he called a desk.

He washed his hands the best he could with the small stream of water he allowed to leave the faucet so as to not wake Frank. He was so peaceful now, his features relaxed and sweet, it made Gerard's body twitch with need at how beautiful he was, without even being awake to be told so.

He decided then that he couldn't be left to sleep in this room. It was still unfamiliar, unfit, and much too far from Gerard's room for comfort. Gerard huffed a sigh as he looked to his painting as if asking it for direction. The paint was still wet in some places, making moonlight reflect beautifully. His last touch has been to the eyes, which he didn't hadn't had too hard of a time getting right even as his reference was drifting off, thanks to a photographic memory. The details of the eyes were shimmeringly adding life to the work, it was mesmerizing to Gerard and he knew immediately  that he'd have to make some edits to it later on thanks to the moon's silent suggestion. He smiled to himself, already a bit excited to continue the artwork even though he'd just finished up for the night.

Forcing himself out of distraction he realized again the issue at hand.

His logical side had only just barely grazed the cover of his thoughts before he was acting on them. He had to have his boy in his arms. He was gentle as he could be with his actions, feeling as though he were on auto-pilot just to stay steady since his heart was beating out of his chest. He didn't want Frank to wake up, not only because he wanted to have the privilege of carrying him to bed but because the boy was obviously having issues getting to or staying asleep at night. He wanted him to at least have one undisturbed night if he had any say in it.

Thankfully Frank was completely out, soft snores escaping his lips as he was carried. Gerard smiled the whole way to Frank's room, his heart was swelled with happiness, he was barely able to take just how much he adored Frank, even with his snoring, which in Gerard's opinion was precious.

He pulled back the boy's soft sheets with one hand, the other careful to keep Frank supported. He laid the boy down tenderly. He only stirred for a few seconds, for  all of which Gerard held his breath with wide eyes, but eventually he snuggled into his pillow and his breathing slowed down telling Gerard that he was soundly asleep again. Taking a chance, Gerard reached out to stroke at the boy's cheek, feeling the warm, soft skin without having to make Frank uncomfortable. He supposed it was wrong in some way, but what Frank didn't know could never hurt him. He prayed that eventually, hopefully soon, he'd be okay with sweet touches like these and just maybe, even come to crave them just as much as Gerard.