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Gerard plants a hand firmly at the base of Frank’s spine. He smells like stale sweat and green tea. They’re sat making out in the living room of Frank’s apartment off campus and it’s bigger than Gerard had expected. Frank had mentioned that he had a sick summer job every year that paid him well but he didn’t expect that he could have afforded a place like this. It wasn’t some high rise looking over central park, but it was better than most college students could say they owned.
His couch is a crappy one, probably pulled off the sidewalk waiting to be thrown away, with sort of scratchy upholstery that’s rubbing against Gerard’s arm in a way that isn’t inherently bad right now, but will probably turn into something more annoying and itchy at some point. Frank, trying to be in control as usual, tries to flip their positions so he’s on top of Gerard but winds up rolling the right off the couch. Frank still lands on top though.
“You did that on purpose,” Gerard says and pulls Frank’s face down to kiss him. Frank laughs and bites on Gerard’s lip, lays his hips down on top of Gerard’s and…. It’s happened again. Gerard feels a guilt settle in his stomach. Every time he and Frank have gotten to a point that he himself would definitely call “hot and heavy”, Gerard seems to be way ahead of Frank. In the sense that, Gerard’s zipper is getting a little painful and he would really love to pop the top button on his jeans right now, and Frank seems to not have any of that in common, or just be very good at hiding it. Gerard can’t help but think it’s the former, though.
The same thoughts as usual are flying through his head like every other time this has happened; did I pressure him in to this? Have I misunderstood what’s going on here? Does my breath stink or something? It takes a second for him to realize he’s stopped responding to Frank’s movements and…he’s just staring up at the ceiling. Smooth.
“Dude. Did Michelangelo paint my ceiling like the Sistine Chapel while I wasn’t looking or are you just really uninterested all of a sudden?” Frank’s sitting up on Gerard’s hips and staring down at him with that little smirk he always does where his bottom lip is pulled tight up to one corner and his eyebrows are questioning your very existence. Gerard sits up on his elbows.
“I…I was um, gonna ask you the same thing, uh…. I just, I’m really not meaning to pressure you or anything if that’s… if I’m doing that! Please, tell me if I’m totally fucking nuts here and like tell me to get out and leave you alone if I’m crossing a line, but I feel like….like there’s a distinct lack… of………interest…………….in, uh, your jeans area…..” Gerard says really carefully, choosing each word like a surgeon chooses a tool, keeping his eyes on Frank’s eyes and messed up hair, and pink pink lips still pulled in a smirk.
“Yeah I meant to talk to you about this for a while, I think I was waiting for you to ask, to like, see if you were really interested in me, y’know?” Frank sits back on Gerard’s thighs and he’s talking with his hands again.
“No, I don’t really know….” Gerard laughs nervously and sits all the way up.
“Right yeah, okay. So, I don’t have a penis, yeah?” Frank smiles and takes one of Gerard’s hands in his. He’s soft and warm.
“What?”
“I have a vagina.” Frank’s so calm about it he’s practically Buddha. Gerard’s head is in a knot for a few good minutes. He sits and tries to wrap his head around this, mulling it over until he gives up and has to ask.
“Does that mean you’re transgender? I don’t know a lot about it. I promise I’m not gonna freak out and leave I’m just… Confused?”
“No, yeah I know you won’t leave, Gee. That’s why I’m telling you. And no, I’m not binary trans. I’m not a boy.” Frank says and kisses the inside of Gerard’s wrist which always makes Gerard’s stomach do a THING. He chews on that statement for a while.
“So you’re….a tomboy?” He says carefully.
“No, no. Okay, see, you know the two binary genders and you know about transgender but there’s a whole lot of in between, okay? I don’t feel like I fit as being a boy or a girl, and I don’t want to.” Frank checks to see that Gerard is following, he nods. “I’m not a tomboy because the way I dress doesn’t define my gender. See, clothing doesn’t have genders, Gerard. Remember how you told me you wore a dress a few times, you didn’t want to be a girl when you wore it, right?” He nods again. “That was you, a boy, in a dress. That’s all. So me dressing this way doesn’t mean I’m a boy. Doesn’t mean I’m a tomboy either. Still with me?”
Gerard nods again and feels kind of dumb for just bobbing his head when all this new information is being presented about the guy he might kind of fallen head over heels for. “So… You’re not a boy.” Frank nods. “But you use… guy pronouns? Like ‘he’ and ‘him’ and ‘his’?” There was a sudden panic that maybe he’s been thinking about Frank wrong the whole time. He never even asked him what his pronouns are, jesus.
Frank’s grinning and Gerard doesn’t understand why. He feels like he’s offended Frank somehow. “I use ‘male’ pronouns because they’re what I’m comfortable with. For a while I used gender neutral ones. One day I might feel more comfortable with ‘female’ ones instead, but it doesn’t change what I am, y’know?” Gerard nods and smiles a bit too. He does know.
“So the gist of this is that you’re not any specific gender but you use boy pronouns and have a vagina.”
“Yeah. You good?”
Gerard smiles big and feels something new in his gut. “Yeah definitely. Is it cool if I touch you?”
Frank scoots forward and grinds his crotch over Gerard’s ghosting out a breath on his lips as he takes his face in both hands. “Definitely.”