Mouth-wateringly lickable guys, The revenge of straightner worshippers, and a seriously bad choice of boxers...NEW CHAPTER, GUYS...PLEASE R&R!! :D :D
Anyyyway, I hope you all like this chapter…it kinda cheered me up writing is after the shittiest day ever, so…yeah…enjoy and please remember to R&R! xD
I always knew I was going to die, but I didn’t really foresee my demise being squashed into a coat cupboard in the hallway of my own home, trembling amongst the thick winter jackets and waterproofs while feeling extremely close to a hysterical outburst of utterly nervous, terrified and retarded giggles at the utter ridiculousness of the situation.
But hey, at least I’m not gunna get trampled to death by my own herd of bloodthirsty meese.
Or violently and viciously castrated with a pair of hot pink tweezers by my scarily Cruella Devil representing stepsister for having extremely, extraordinarily inappropriate thought about one of her many boyfriends. The utterly mouthwateringly gorgeous boyfriend with a careless Mohawk and a smile that could melt the entire planet’s knees in one fell swoop.
The one my fucked up little brain cells just want to mercilessly lick all over.
I only just manage to suppress a funny little high pitched giggly-snort sound that leaks out the corner of my mouth at the thought of licking Frank Iero all over, the very same Frank Iero who is standing just outside the cupboard door. The very same Frank Iero who told me I was cute last night and kissed my nose.
The memory temporarily stops my lungs working, and makes my stomach lurch in a way that’s not entirely unpleasant.
I make the funny little muffled squealy sound again and clap my hand over my mouth as I hear the voices in the hallway falter slightly, still shaking with silent hysterically nervous giggles.
Why does the person my mentally incompetent little brain cells want to so unsuitably drag their little pink tongues all over for all eternity have to be standing right outside the cupboard I’m crouched and trembling in, hand clamped over my mouth in attempt to stop the nervous giggles leaking out?!
Meesefuckers and moose shit. The universe hates me.
And I am officially going to slaughter my evil younger brother at the first opportunity. Little skinny, straightner obsessive motherfucker.
He knew what a flustered sate I’m in this morning after Frank kissing my nose last night, and now he’s conspiring against me like the rest of the universe and has brought back the guy himself. Is this all because I threatened to destroy his straightners?! Fuck, he needs to get a life if he cares so passionately about a pair of GHDs that he’ll happily murder his own brother through means of embarrassing him in front of the sexiest guy in the history of sexiness just for one, teeny tiny little death threat towards the precious hair appliance.
And oh my meesefuckingtremblingpostmen, FRANK IERO KISSED MY MOTHERFUCKING NOSE. AND HE’S IN THE HALL. AND I’M HIDING IN THE CUPBOARD. I still can’t believe that nose kiss wasn’t some fucked up dream and my brain cells are once again happy dancing in their little pink knickers at the memory.
That’s when the cupboard door swings open, filling the cupboard with warm, sunny light and making me freeze in utter horror amongst the coats.
Of course, my retarded little brain cells are still dancing in a disturbingly girly manner.
And I have my hand clamped over my mouth, shaking with silent giggles, which almost instantly cease as I see the sceptical face of my younger sibling.
Mikey’s looking at me despairingly with his sceptical hazel eyes and straightened mousey hair, as if he’s never seen anything quite so retarded before as his older brother unexplainably crouched quiveringly in the coat cupboard in nothing but a too-tight pair of PJ bottoms that show several inches of his garishly pink, green and purple ‘I eat brains’ boxers.
I want. To. Die.
I want to die even more when Frank’s head suddenly pokes round the door too, eyes beautifully greeny russet and rimmed with vivid scarlet that only enhances their colour, scruffy Mohawk falling carelessly across his amused smile in ebony tendrils.
My knees melt faster than the speed of light and I grapple desperately for the coat rail, simultaneously making an embarrassingly high-pitched squealy noise of horror at the sight of the almost unbearably gorgeous human being who kissed my nose last night.
I’m also suddenly really wishing I was wearing different boxers.
“What the actual fuck are you doing, Gee?” Mikey sighs, leaning in the doorway and surveying me with distaste as I somehow try and hide the fact that there are considerable amounts of my freakishly pale flesh on show. Not to mention nipples.
Yeah, like Frank’s never seen anything like that before, dickface.
Well, you are freakishly pale…
I was talking about the nipples.
Hmmm…I wonder if Frank has nipples…
Of course he has, you mentally incompetent nincompoop- everyone does!
I wonder what they’re like…
SHUT THE FUCK UP AND STOP THINKING ABOUT YOUR STEPSISTER’S BOYFREIND’S NIPPLES!!
“Gee?!” Mikey says loudly, pulling me out of the insanity of my head with a sharp poke in my bare chest. And then more quietly so that Frank can’t hear him; “Stop thinking about nipples, fuckface.”
My mouth falls open. How the actual meesefuck does that kid constantly know exactly what I’m thinking about? It’s just not normal.
“Oh…um…well…I was…uh…looking for a…coat,” I stutter, ducking behind my dishevelled hair.
“With the door closed?” Mikey raises his eyebrows disbelievingly.
“It’s 70 fucking degrees outside.”
“Oh,” I mutter at a loss for what else to say, cursing the evil being that lurks under the deceptively innocent straightened mousy hair and geeky glasses. “Um, how did you know I was in here anyway?”
“I could hear that funny little high-pitched squeaky sound you make when you’re scared and trying to hold back your giggles,” Mikey informs me brightly, and Frank bites his lip as if he’s trying not to smile, only adding to my endless list of reasons to jump off an extremely high cliff. Preferably one with a lot of jagged rocks at the bottom.
“Oh,” I say stupidly, just wanting to be absorbed by the coats I’m trying and failing to hide behind, feeling myself brighter red than the scarlet pom-pom hat beside me.
“Morning, Gerard,” Frank grins at me from behind Mikey, giving me a little wave and resulting in my knees dying there and then.
“Umpeehanmoof…” I say dazedly, and Mikey rolls his eyes heavily and despairingly as I clutch at the nearest coat for support.
“Did my CDs arrive?” He asks tiredly, looking as if he’s refraining from rolling his eyes constantly at me.
I nod, incapable of speech.
“Hey, coming to have coffee with us, Gerard?” Frank asks, still smiling that oh-so-devastating-I-am-going-to-destroy-your-kneecaps-smile and making me cling harder to the coat beside me, swaying dangerously.
“Uepemh…s-sure,” I manage dazedly.
“Great,” Frank beams, and suddenly, the coat isn’t strong enough to take my weight, despite the fact I no longer have knees thanks to his devastating smiles, and I suddenly find myself in a mushy mess of pathetic hormones on the cupboard floor, dragging two coats and the scarlet pom-pom hat down with me.
“Oh my god, you really are the most pathetic creature ever to have existed,” Mikey sighs in disgust. “I’m going to make coffee.” And with that, he slouches off to the kitchen, leaving me wishing that the entire cupboard would somehow cave in on me and crush me, because seriously, death must be preferable to the amount of utter humiliation I’m feeling right now.
Frank’s chuckling softly, the sound making me want to sink into the floorboards and straight into the pits of hell, and my fucked-up little brain cells to squeal for my instant attachment of my body to his lips. Or nipples. Or even one of his six dicks.
“Need a hand there, Tumbles?” Frank says softly, cutting through my brain cells sick little fantasises and kneeling down beside me on the floor, brushing his dyed-black hair out of his eyes and smiling gently in a way that would have almost certainly destroyed my knees before, but seeing as I no longer have any, I sadly remain alive.
Oh god, why does he have to be so hot? Why does he have to have those wide, smiling lips and silver lip ring? Why do his eyes have to be so beautiful and rimmed so sexily with smoky scarlet? Why does he have to smell so lethally alluring of tobacco and mangoes? Why-
Oh my god, just shut the actual fuck up, brain!
And what if I don’t want to?
Fuck, just kill me.
“No….let me die here…” I groan, bashing my head against the floorboards and not looking up at the vision of perfection that’s kneeling beside me with a lopsided smile tugging at his lips.
“C’mon,” Frank chuckles, holding out a hand for me. When I do nothing, just continue my vain attempt to sink through the floor to my death, he slides his arms round my waist, making me jump and hauling me upright as I squirm and squeal in an embarrassingly feminine manner.
“Eeemph…ougeefh…let…eeep…go…” I choke, arms flailing about.
“Ticklish?” Frank asks, raising an eyebrow at me and letting go of my hips.
“Ummm…” I blush.
“I’ll have to remember that,” Frank winks at me, and then strolls after Mikey towards the kitchen.
It is possible the feeling in my knees will never return.
To my utter amazement, I manage to stumble dazedly through to the kitchen without any disastrous collisions or nasty mishaps. However, I do somehow manage to collide with Mikey on entering the kitchen, resulting in his precious mug of blessed coffee falling to a messy death on the tiled floor and Mikey glaring furiously at me as if I’ve just brutally slaughtered several hundred fluffy baby hamsters.
But hey, it could have been worse- I could have upended the coffee all over the god that is Frank Iero. The god that just happens to be dating my evil, cheating, fake, repulsive, disgusting, inhuman- okay, I could go on for ever here. Basically, she sucks and should die and be re-incarnated as mouldy lettuce which I’ll eat in my next life as a snail. Bitch.
Finally, I’m sitting at the pine table in one piece, opposite the god that is Frank Iero, and beside my evil younger sibling who is still giving me the death glare after grudgingly cleaning up the spilt coffee and shards of broken mug, then attempting to put them down my pyjama bottoms and just embarrass me further in front of the sexy sex god of sexy sex godliness.
Which seriously, I can manage perfectly okay on my own as I’ve demonstrated far too many times in the last few days.
It’s taking up all my brain power (excluding the little fuck-ups that call themselves brain cells and are mentally undressing Frank which is actually really, really distracting) just managing to raise the mug of coffee to my lips and take a shaky sip without spilling it all over the table or violently choking.
“So…what are you doing today, Gerard?” Frank asks, running a hand through his careless dyed-black mini-Mohawk and taking a gulp of coffee. Okay, how is it possible to make even drinking coffee look sexy? I am so, so fucked.
Oh just go die in a hole, brain.
“Umm…nothing really,” I manage, only choking slightly, which causes Mikey to roll his eyes yet again, but luckily he manages to refrain himself from saying anything from mortally embarrassing me further.
“Great, you can hang out with me and Mikey!” Frank grins, taking another unfairly alluring gulp of coffee and I narrowly avoid dropping my mug which is in no way helped by the fact my brain cells have just mentally removed his sleeveless Black Flag shirt. “Jamie’s at her friends all day and meeting an old friend for dinner, so I’m free all day.”
“Uneegamoof…” I choke, trying very hard not to splutter coffee all over the god of sexiness sitting right in front of me, smiling fatally, eyes gazing intently into mine and just…gah.
Mikey’s looking at my utterly pathetic, love-struck, gooey-eyed face as if I’m actually the most retarded thing to walk- or rather, stumble- the planet. He may be right.
There’s silence for a moment while Mikey continues to glare disparagingly at me, Frank continues to sip his coffee in a way that I can only describe as orgasmic, and does the most peculiar things to my fucked-up, Frank-deluded, hormonally crazed little brain cells; I’m just trying not to choke on my coffee, fall off my chair, or start mumbling like an incoherent numbskull.
“You aren’t wearing your eyeliner today, Gerard,” Frank’s soft, slightly husky voice drags me from my intense concentration of lifting my coffee mug to my mouth without spilling the contents of it all over the table. The mug wobbles dangerously.
“Um,” Is my witty, intelligent response as I set the mug hastily back down on the tabletop, deciding it’s safest for me and the people surrounding me that I’m not holding a mug of near-boiling liquid when Frank is looking at me like that, not to mention my brain cells are currently removing his scruffy black skinnies. Perverts.
“He likes to pretend he’s not a sad, gay transvestite with a serious caffeine obsession most days,” Mikey chips in casually, taking a sip of coffee while I choke, splutter and die on my gulp. “And eyeliner kinda gives it away,” He adds, throwing an evil ‘I am going to kill you for spilling my coffee, you fucktard’ smirk my way.
“What?!” I choke furiously at my evil younger sibling who is obviously seeking revenge for when I spilt his blessed, precious coffee all over the kitchen floor.
“He only wears his pink lipstick on special occasions though, like his puff head of a boyfriend’s coming out party,” Mikey adds, taking another sip of coffee.
He is suddenly showered in lukewarm coffee and his own brother’s saliva as the coffee I just so stupidly decided to inhale in horror splurts from my mouth and all over the source of all evil that just told Frank Iero, the guy I want to literally and metaphorically drool all over, and the reason I am so metaphorically fucked (sadly not literally), the complete and utter lie that I am a sad, gay transvestite with a serious caffeine addiction.
Well, the transvestite bit’s a lie.
Frank hides his amused smirk behind his careless hair.
“Um, sorry?” I apologise tentatively, attempting to mop the contents of my mouth from my brother’s face with trembling hands.
Frank’s amused smirk widens.
Mikey rolls his eyes so heavily that I’m surprised they don’t get permanently stuck inside his head. “Thanks a lot, freakface,” He scowls, pushing my hand away crossly.
“I’m not a freak,” I say indignantly.
Mikey snorts. “Yeah, and I’m not skinny.”
“You’re freakishly skinny.”
“That’s my point, fuckface.”
“Well at least I’m not sexually attracted to my straightner.”
“That’s only because it failed you.”
“How the fuck can a straightner fail you?!”
“When you try and use it to straighten your sexuality.”
I flush even brighter red than I thought was possible, as my evil, evil sibling smirks in a horribly satisfied way and Frank ducks tactfully behind his scruffily sexy fringe to hide his wide grin and the amused twinkle in his russety-emerald eyes.
Okay, I have seriously never, ever wanted a giant meteorite to come and exterminate me from existence so much as I do right now. Oh god, Frank’s laughing. At me. Because he now thinks that I’m a sad, gay transvestite with a serious caffeine addiction who IS GOING TO KILL HIS EVIL YOUNGER BROTHER WITH A HERD OF BLOODTHIRSTY MEESE.
Oh jeez, where’s Jamie, her sadistic cruelty, pure loathing for me and Mascara Wand Of Death when you need it?!
My brain cells of course, being the delightful, tactful little munchkins they are, have also just decided to remove Frank’s last item of clothing.
Luckily, before I can actually turn redder than a sunburnt beetroot at a comic relief red nose day convention, the shrill ring of the phone echoes through from the
living room and Mikey gets up, still smirking in that evil, self-satisfied way, going out of the kitchen to answer it.
I look up at Frank, who’s still biting his lip to stop the unfairly alluring amused grin spreading further across his face, black tendrils of hair flopping carelessly across his glittering eyes.
“I-I’m not a sad gay transvestite with a serious caffeine addiction,” I stutter, beyond embarrassed and trying to disappear behind my scruffy raven hair.
“I know,” Frank grins at me, trying to hide his wide smile behind his hair.
“Really…I mean, I might have once- I mean, no I just- I’m not even…I just maybe- Mikey- it’s all lies…I’m not-”
“Gerard!” Frank’s laughing now, shaking his head helplessly at me. “Chill out, dude! I believe you; don’t get so stressed out about things!”
“Oh,” I mumble, feeling like a complete and utter moron. Or more than usual, anyway. I duck further behind my hair, blushing.
“Hey, don’t go all quiet and hidey-behind-hair on me,” Frank teases, leaning across the table and gently poking my nose through my strands of dishevelled black hair. “And even if you were a sad, gay transvestite with a serious caffeine addiction…” he lowers his voice to a whisper, “You’d still be pretty damn adorable.”
My heart leaps and all my little brain cells start their girly happy dancing again. I don’t look up, too scared of just what they might propel me to do; fling myself at him or suddenly become attached to his lips, but my heart’s thumping crazily in my chest, cheeks burning.
“Wanna go out?” Frank’s soft voice asks from just beside my ear and my brain cells leap in pathetic hope as my head shoots up in shock, colliding with his nose.
“To the music shop,” He clarifies, rubbing his nose where my forehead decided to so gracefully bash him.
All my fuzzy little brain cells droop in utter despair.
“Um…I…uhh…y-yeah….sure,” I stutter, blushing furiously. “Shit, I’m sorry, is your nose okay?”
“I’ll live,” Frank smiles ruefully at me across the table, running a hand through his scruffy mini-Mohawk in a way that makes me want to become suddenly airborne so I can become attached to him as soon as humanly possible.
“Sorry- I didn’t mean, I just…fuck, I’m so stupid, I just thought you- fuck, I mean…sorry, I-” I stammer, hands flailing about.
“Gerard!” Frank manages to grab onto one of my flailing hands, which makes me freeze, because oh my meeseshit, Frank is holding my hand. And it’s not the burnt one, which means I can actually feel the soft, warm, calloused skin of his fingers curled round mine and my heart rate increases so much I think it might explode.
Which might actually be a good thing, cause if he doesn’t let go anytime soon, I might just have to lick his face. Like, with my tongue.
I mentally hit myself on the head. What the fuck else would I lick with?!
“Um, yeah?” I manage, looking at Frank with wide eyes, trying very, very hard not to focus on the fact his hand is still holding mine.
“Calm down, okay?” He smiles, shaking his head at me. “Let’s go?”
“O-Okay,” I stammer as he disentangles his hand from mine and I stand up rather shakily, brain cells rejoicing like the little fuckfaces they are.
“Nice boxers,” Frank grins at me, getting to his feet too and gathering up the three empty coffee mugs on the table.
I blush furiously, cursing who ever I inherited the albino-wearing-black-veil-brides-make-up skin from, as if even the tiniest amount of blood decides to visit my cheeks, I turn vivid crimson. And right now, it feels as if all the fucking blood in my retarded, mentally incompetent and un-coordinated body is flooding my face.
Which utterly idiotic part of my brain possessed me to wear ‘I eat brains’ boxers? Actually, to even just buy them…
“You’re blushing,” Frank smirks unnecessarily at me, nibbling his lip in a kneecap-melting way and stepping closer to me after dumping the mugs in the sink.
“Um…I’m just…uh…sunburnt..” I mumble, staring at the tiled floor as if it’s the most fascinating thing on the planet so I won’t have to look up and consequently be flung by my conspiring little brain cells at the unfair amount of perfection, sexiness, gorgeousness, hotness, droolsomeness, kneecap-destroyingness and just plain beauty that’s slowly getting closer to me.
Frank chuckles, sounding a lot closer than before. “You got sunburnt very quickly.”
Well, wouldn’t you if there was someone that hot in the room?
“Urmm…eeeughooodf…” I stutter incoherently, heart pounding wildly as I slowly try and back away from Frank who seems to be getting closer and closer, judging by the approaching smell of mangoes, tobacco and sunshine.
“Didn’t quite catch that,” Frank grins, and I look up, regretting the decision immediately; standing possibly no less than ten centimetres in front of me is the sexy god of sexy sex godliness himself, smiling widely, greeny-russet eyes wide and twinkling with mischievous humour, reckless hair falling carelessly across his smooth skin in scruffy black tendrils.
I grapple desperately for the wall behind me in frantic attempt to remain not sprawled on the kitchen floor at his feet.
“I-I-I should…uh…go and get…changed..” I stammer, not meeting his eyes and stumbling past him towards the doorway.
“If you like,” Frank shrugs, stepping back slightly and still smiling in that way that could blow the universe into smithereens, not to mention my poor kneecaps.
“Yeah, I don’t exactly think this is a sight anyone would want to see,” I mumble, gesturing to my bare chest, garish boxers and too-tight PJ bottoms as I walk unsteadily towards the hall.
I’m just taking my first shaky steps into the hallway when I feel someone’s warm, calloused fingers hook onto the waistband of my boxers and pull me back until there’s hot, smoky breath tickling the back of my bare neck closely and my heart stutters frantically, legs feeling so weak I think I might just fall down and die.
“Oh, I don’t know..” Frank’s husky whisper tickles my skin, sending shivers all the way down my spine and making my brain cells mush into a fuzzy puddle of melted hormones.
I’m also horribly aware that his fingers are still curled round the waistline of my pink and green ‘I eat brains’ boxers, which is on its own enough to make me explode with hormones and nerves, without the hot, smoky breath brushing the nape of my bare neck, tendrils of mango scented hair tickling my shoulders.
Fortunately for me, before I can actually expire on the spot or turn round and start ravishing my stepsister’s boyfriend which I seriously doubt either of them would appreciate, the doorbell goes and I duck my head, mumbling something unintelligible and scuttling past Frank, boxers pinging against the small of my back as Frank’s fingers release the elastic.
Heart pounding, fingers trembling, I stumble into the hallway and shakily manage to unlock the front door, feeling dizzy and as if I’m about to collapse, which I don’t think I can blame on the heat of the summer sun, but more the heat of Jamie’s beyond gorgeous boyfriend.
I pull the door open and groan.
Fucking fantastic. Just my fucking luck.
What do you need to add to the already dangerous equation of an evil, revenge-seeking sibling, a beyond mouth-wateringly gorgeous out of bounds stepsister’s boyfriend, a beyond clumsy, homosexual Misfits obsessive with a pair of garish ‘I eat brains boxers’, and a bunch of hormone-crazed brain cells to make the mix life threatening?
A cat snogging, ‘fro supporting best friend, of course.
Sooooo? What did you think? Frank’s a bit of a flirt, isn’t he? xD I think you’ll all like the next chapter, btw :P tell me what you think and which bit you liked best? I’d really like to hear your thoughts, as like I said before, my confidence has really taken a dive which is really, really annoying :/ hope you all enjoyed and please pleeease R&R xD LOVE YOU ALL! Thanks for reading and will update as soon as I can…reviews help xP oh, and please check out chapter two of my new story if you have the time (: