Presents, a hotel suite, and a road trip.
When I opened my eyes, sun was shining softly through the high-set, narrow windows of Gerard’s bedroom. I was alone in bed, the sheets twisted around my legs. I lay there for a second, feeling what it was like to be seventeen at last. Come to think of it, there wasn’t anything special about it, no secret epiphany. I didn’t feel responsible or adult.
Eh, whatever. Age is just a number, I thought. I sounded like my grandma, who still maintained she was 62 for the fifth year in a row. I tried to think of all the ways I was going to make this year memorable. I promised myself I would be a better person, keep my big mouth shut, and learn to appreciate the little things. These convictions would probably go the same route as my new year's resolution to cut back on sugar, which had lasted approximately until dessert the next day, but they were worth thinking about at least. A black-haired ghost poked its head around the doorframe. A big, creamy grin spread across his features and crinkled his dreamy hazel eyes.
“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered. His hands were behind his back, holding something. I sat up halfway, not bothering to cover myself with the sheet. Gerard leaned in very close and gave me a long, lingering birthday kiss. His eyelashes fluttered against my cheek; his lips were scorching hot as they moved softly against mine. After a moment, he pulled away, smiling mischievously.
“Please don’t tickle me,” I said immediately, raising my hands in defense. He laughed.
“I wouldn’t do that on your birthday, Frankie boy.” His eyes widened impossibly, full of joy. He bit his lip and delivered his confession. “I got you something.”
“You did?” I asked, struck again by his generosity. I didn’t deserve anything much; being with him every day was a big enough present. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I was truly happy and wanted nothing. I had a home, friends who loved me, a gorgeous and very talented boyfriend. I had hope that everything was going to be okay, and I couldn’t even express how valuable that was to me.
Gee’s eyes held mine as he tossed a neatly wrapped package onto my lap. “Have at it.”
I unwrapped it slowly and carefully, making sure none of the paper was torn. I could tell I was driving him crazy – his hand twitched, but he said nothing, letting me take my sweet time. I pulled the last of the tissue paper away and caught my breath. A brand new leather jacket lay there in front of me, jet-black and buttery soft. I looked up at him, standing there in the early morning light with his arms folded.
“Thank you,” I said dumbly. I’d wanted a real jacket forever, but with my family in dire financial straits, I could never bring myself to ask my mom for anything new. He settled onto the bed beside me, laying his warm palm against my bare thigh.
“Winter’s coming,” he murmured, his lips twisting up at the corners. “I didn’t want my baby to catch a cold.” I guess it’s kind of a selfish present really.” His lips twisted into a wistful smile. “But I like boys in black leather.”
“So do I.” I leaned back against his chest. I could hear his heart beating through the soft skin. “Gee, I really don’t know how to thank you...for everything, I mean—”
He held a finger up to my lips, cutting me off gently. “You don’t have to, Frankie. Besides, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Wait till the day is out, and then you can only thank me if this is the best birthday you’ve ever had.”
“Oh, it will be,” I giggled. “I’m with you, aren’t I?”
Gerard wanted to leave early to avoid seeing his parents; he told me he’d gotten up early to drop Mikey off at Bob’s for the night. The two of them were scheming over something they called ‘Battle Royale’, a contingency plan in case the fight in the parking lot hadn't ended things explosively enough, but they’d both wished me a happy birthday. The whole Jason problem made my stomach burn whenever I thought about it, but today I could push it away without too much work. Gee made me a big breakfast of scrambled eggs, muffins and plenty of coffee. He just sat there staring at me rapturously as I ate, refilling my plate until I felt like I’d burst for sure. I put on yesterday’s clothes and slid into my new jacket, snuck a glance at myself in the hallway mirror. I looked tough and slick and almost dangerous. He shot an approving look at the new-and-improved me as we ran down the porch steps and into the bright morning. I hung a quick left out of habit, on the way to my house, but his shout stopped me.
“Where are you off to, kid?” He smirked, leaning against the hood of a gorgeous blue Corvette. I retraced my steps hesitantly; he had his feet up on the grille and was stroking the paint job nonchalantly.
“Don’t set off the alarm, Gee,” I said warily. “I don’t know what idiot would leave such a nice car in such a crappy neighborhood.”
“This idiot,” he said, and smiled as my eyes bugged out.
“This is your car?”
“Mhm. For the weekend.” He went around to the driver’s side, twirling the keys around his finger. The lock on the door popped up. I tugged the door experimentally and climbed inside when it actually opened. The interior was gorgeous, all beige leather and chrome. Gerard was watching my face with his pale, strong hands wrapped around the wheel. “What do you think?” He asked.
I let out a contented sigh. “I feel like a million bucks.”
“That was the idea,” he said, pointing to my seatbelt as he revved the engine and pulled smoothly out into the street. “I wanted you to feel like royalty, for a day at least. You deserve it.” His smile was infectious. I hadn’t been in a car in what felt like forever, so I just stared out the front window at the houses and tree-lined streets sliding past us. New Jersey looked almost glamorous when you were staring at it through thick, tinted glass with an engine humming under you.
We arrived at my house and Gee idled outside while I snuck in to grab some clothes. I unlocked the front door and opened it ever so slowly, wincing at the metallic squeak, and crept up the stairs to my room. I threw some clothes, my toothbrush and a couple of cds into a backpack and tiptoed downstairs to write my mom a note. I slept at the Way’s more often than I was home, and I knew she probably worried about me. I’m happy, I added as an afterthought at the end. I’ll tell you everything when I get back.
My heart started skittering around as I walked across my lawn and got into the car, tossing my bag in the backseat. Gerard was contemplating something far off in the distance, a cigarette dangling from his lip. Smoke floated in the air. He tossed the butt into the street when he saw me and smoothed his hair back from his face.
“Sorry,” he said softly. “Quitting is hard.”
I put my hand on his leg and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I don’t mind that much. I just want you to be healthy. We all love you too much for you to not take care of yourself.”
His face twisted up and he stared at me with something like longing in his eyes. He kissed me like I’d been wanting him to all morning – steamy and aggressive, nibbling my lip, sliding his hot tongue between my teeth. It felt R-rated, like he was making me his. I loved that loss of control. I couldn’t get enough of the way he tasted, the heat and the smell of him, peppermint and smoke. “Frankie,” he moaned, brushing my face with his fingertips, “you’re so good to me.” He bowed his head and nestled into my neck, kissed my throat. His voice was just a low groan. “I—I need you, I love you, I...god, you’re the only thing that’s good in the world. And what kills me is that you don’t even know it.”
I tipped his chin up with my finger and kissed him tenderly on the mouth. I didn’t have the words to tell him that no, I wasn’t anyone special, I wasn’t what he thought I was. All I could be was glad that he felt like that, glad he saw something in me at all, because I sure as hell couldn't.
The ride to the concert was like an ‘80s movie. The sun was putting down a wall of light; we cruised the interstate with all the windows down and the breeze whipping our hair. It was unseasonably warm for October, and we sang along to the cds I'd brought like we didn't have a care in the world. I was blasting the Foo Fighters when Gee’s hand found mine on the armrest. He drove like that, one-handed, for over an hour, his cool fingers never slipping from mine.
We pulled up to the hotel around eleven. I whistled, impressed.
“It’s a little swanky,” he admitted, ducking his head. “I told the guy at the desk that we were brothers; I hope you don’t mind being Frankie Way for the weekend.”
I shrugged, trying to ignore how my heart leapt at the thought. “I don’t mind. It might be more convincing if you didn’t grab my ass in the lobby, though.”
He winked. “You don’t know the amount of effort that goes into restraining myself on a daily basis, Frankie boy.”
We checked in without any problems. It was a little weird realizing we looked similar enough to be taken as brothers, but I got over it when he pulled me into the elevator and forced me up against a wall, his hard hands balling up my new coat. We were grinding all the way up to the 23rd floor.
“Wow,” I breathed as we opened the door to the suite. A row of huge windows faced the ocean in the distance, and the furniture was all cream-colored and modern. Gerard set down our bags and ran around like a little kid, laughing as he explored.
“They gave us two beds,” he yelled from the other room. “How quaint.”
I followed him in and caught my breath. In the center of the room stood two huge, king-sized beds covered in foamy white sheets and mountains of pillows. Gerard was spread-eagled across the one near the window; he didn’t even take up half the mattress. He raised one hand and beckoned with his finger.
“Come here, lover boy,” he purred. I ran and jumped onto the bed, bouncing across the covers to land next to him.
“No need to tell me twice.” I locked my arms around his neck and slung one leg over his hips. He pulled me into a deep kiss, his lips parting invitingly. I rolled on top of him and started a slow bump-and-grind, grinning when he immediately got hard. I thrust up against him; he let out a low, needy moan and tugged at the hem of my shirt.
“Unhh,” he growled, closing his eyes in ecstasy. “Give it to me, Frankie. I need it.”
“All right.” I’d been waiting for him to ask. It was such a shock to find someone I actually enjoyed blowing; the feel of his dick in my mouth, the sounds he made, everything about him turned me on. I tugged off his shirt and let my hands roam over every inch of his bare skin, memorizing the contours of his body – the smooth slope of his chest, the curl of his ribs and indents of abs like taut fists, the trail of downy hair that dipped under the waistband of his jeans. His hand clenched in my hair, pushing me gently downward. I knew he couldn’t take it anymore. I ran my tongue over his skin, stopping just short of his navel, and he sighed in frustration. I covered him with wet, soft kisses until he squirmed.
“Please,” he begged, watching me with slitted eyes.
I sat up and unzipped him, felt his rock-hard cock twitch against my palm. He lifted his hips so I could slide his jeans and boxers down his muscular legs. He lay back against the pillows and I settled between his legs. He let out a soft sigh as my lips closed around his erection, drawing him deep into my mouth. It was almost too much, even for me, but I felt the familiar pressure in my jeans at the way he was watching me, needy and aroused, and all those hot-and-bothered noises he was making. He thrust up against me till he was balls deep, and I moaned as I imagined his dick deep inside me and how good it would feel. Precum leaked into my mouth and I swallowed eagerly; I’d never tell him, but he tasted like vanilla. I started bobbing my head faster, watching his body respond. His muscles tightened and he caught his breath harshly as I swirled my tongue around his head. He tugged on my hair and pulled me up to his level, his hand seeking out the bulge in my pants. My eyelids fluttered as he massaged my crotch. He smirked.
“Sixty-nine?” he asked innocently, as if he were proposing Sunday brunch. I nodded, not trusting my voice, and he pressed his face against my abs in a passionate kiss. His fingers deftly took off my pants and he slid my boxers down my legs. The hungry way he stared at me sent shivers of anticipation down my back. “I’ll be on bottom,” he said quickly. “I want your dick in my mouth so bad.” He looked like an angel with his hair tousled around his face, and the dirty talk just made me want him more. I bent over his cock again, letting him gently reposition my legs so I was kneeling over his head. His skillful hands gripped my ass and pushed me down as he took me into his mouth. It was all I could do to not lose control, that hot wetness wrapping around me, his tongue swirling over my shaft. I moaned and increased my pace, pumping up and down until his legs began to shake. “Slower,” he said indistinctly. “I want to come at the same time as you.” He was doing some kind of amazing maneuver with his tongue, sending white-hot sparks shooting up my spine. I tried to hold out, but the thought of his perfect pink lips stretching around my penis was too much to handle. I sped up again, teasing him by deep-throating him and then working on just the tip, until we were both trembling. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think except that I wanted to make him scream my name.
“Gee,” I panted, “I’m gonna come.” He moaned in reply, the vibrations sending me over the edge. My hips bucked and I exploded into his mouth; a half-second later, warm come filled my mouth and he collapsed under me, crying out my name. It was like a million camera flashes going off in my head at once, wave after wave of pleasure. I swallowed for him and rested my cheek against his hipbone. We lay there for a while, breathing at the same time and letting the warm aftershocks go through us. I moved back so I was lying next to him, and he buried his face in my neck.
“Mmmm. Someone’s broken a few hearts,” he breathed. His voice was weak.
I raised my eyebrows. “Not that I know of.”
“You’re incredible. You deserve the equivalent of the Nobel Peace Prize for fucking.”
I snuggled closer in his arms. “Really?”
He nodded. “I’ve been around the block a few times, Frankie boy. You’re something special.”
I couldn’t help but smile at the irony. Gerard Way, sex god, was telling me that I was gifted. Clouds of inky black hair spilled across the pillow, framing his high cheekbones. He was staring at me; I could see the ocean in his hazel eyes, the whole world reflected in a sea of green and gold.
“Who else have you been with?” I asked on a whim, not sure I really wanted to know the answer. “I mean, how many guys?”
He paused, glancing away like he didn’t really want to answer. “A lot,” he admitted after a moment. “Seven, eight...I don’t remember. I did tell you I used to drink a lot more than I do now, right?” I nodded. “It was just at parties, once or twice, something along those lines. It didn’t mean anything; I was just drunk and bored.” He sighed. “I’m a terrible slut, I guess. But I haven’t dated anyone since we moved to Fair Haven. I guess in a town like this, I thought it would be better to keep my head down. It sure ain’t no Haight-Ashbury.” He grinned. “I used to think I was a nympho, but I guess two years without anyone serious proves that theory wrong.”
“You’re just not as uptight as most people,” I said, stroking his back. “I don’t mind, Gee. It’s really to my benefit, so I’d never complain. You’re...free, in a way that Mikey and me and everyone else isn’t. And you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t drink and fight and fuck without thinking too much about it.”
His face softened. He kissed the corner of my mouth softly. “Thanks,” he said haltingly. “Only don’t tell Mikey. Ray and Bob know, they know everything, but he doesn’t need to know how bad I used to be. He'd take care of me when I came home, but I never told him about all the guys.” He settled back into the pillows, a smile lightening his features. “What about yourself? What secrets is my stud of a boyfriend keeping from me?”
I blushed. “Nothing, really.”
He cocked one perfect eyebrow. “No lovers in Tahiti? No oral herpes I should know about?”
I sighed. “I met this guy in freshman year. We didn’t really talk much, not about anything important, but he was really good-looking, he had big blue eyes and this perky ass and...well...”
“Go on.” Gerard was listening with rapt attention. “He sounds like a dreamboat.”
“He broke my heart,” I said bluntly. “Kissed me underwater, held my hand, told me I was special, the whole deal. And then the school year started and he wanted nothing to do with me. He wouldn't even talk to me.”
His hand traced my cheek. “God,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry, Frankie.”
“It’s fine, I should’ve known it would happen. I’m so naïve.” I looked away but I could still feel his eyes on my face.
“You know I would never do that to you, right?” he asked shyly. “I’d rather die than hurt you. You’re my baby, and even if you weren’t, you’re still sexy as hell. Your eyes look like candy and you smell like cookies and you’re just perfect. I get a sugar high just sitting next to you in class,” he laughed, sitting up and pulling me onto his lap. I smiled as he ran a hand through my hair. Those big green eyes were full of warmth. “I love you. I love you and the whole world can know about it, I don’t care at all. And it’s terrifying, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Happy Birthday, Frankie.”
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