FRERARD ONESHOT! Frank is beginning to get worried about his slightly odd reaction to tickling his best friend...
Oh, and Josh? If you’re reading this: DON’T READ THIS!
Um, sorry about that. To those of you who aren’t Josh…on with the story- enjoy!
Frank Anthony Iero was a strange sixteen year old on many counts. Not least his height, which was, bluntly, most representative of a stunted, vertically retarded and diminutive elf.
Not that he took kindly to being described like that. In fact, the last person to call him ‘small’ was carted away twenty four hours later to the nearest hospital, twitching and muttering frantically with crazed eyes. And then there was that nasty incident with a six foot jock’s ankles being gnawed viciously at by a certain pair of small, extremely sharp teeth.
Anyway, other than being the size of a minute goblin, Frank had numerous other unusual qualities; he had never dated any size, shape or form of human being in his sixteen years; unlike most of his moronic friends, he spent all his time playing guitar rather than drooling over the autonomy of the female body; his favourite food was peanut butter and skittles sandwiches; and he adored maths lessons.
So, all in all, Frank wasn’t your average teenage boy.
But it was perhaps Frank’s most recent addition to his collection of weirdness that was the strangest of all.
It was the fact that whenever he tickled his best friend, he got this really weird, tingly, turning-inside out feeling in his lower stomach.
And even Frank knew this wasn’t normal.
He’d made this discovery at one of his little group’s weekly Friday movie nights. Believe it or not, Frank had actually managed to find a little niche of people in his school who were equally strange, and who appreciated every moment of his weirdness. In fact, they were sometimes weirder than he was and seriously, that was saying something.
There was Mikey Way; severe coffee addict and straightener obsessive- the person who had been carted off, twitching, to the nearest hospital after calling Frank ‘small’- apparently, having his coffee stolen as revenge had more of a drastic effect than Frank had predicted. But hey, at least he brought his skinny, caffeine hooked little friend several million Starbucks while he was in hospital. If he hadn’t, it is very possible that young Mikey would never have returned from hospital.
Then there was Ray Toro; quantum physics legend and guitar genius who loved his fat, furry little ginger guinea pig, Clive, with all his heart. Loved as in past tense. He never got to the bottom of that suspicious incident where poor little Clive was found, squished in his hutch mere minutes after the poor little munchkin had urinated in Mikey’s mug of coffee.
Seriously, that was a dangerous place to lose control of your bladder.
Not of course forgetting the school’s resident manslut; Bob Bryar; the muscled, strawberry blonde guy who spent his life sometimes literally drooling over the tightness of school girls’ shirts and acted as a personal bodyguard for the rest of the gang, despite the fact he was actually cuddlier than a teddy bear. He knew all too well how bad an idea it was to lose control of your bladder near Mikey’s coffee after that nasty, drunken incident at a party, and after witnessing what happened to poor little Clive.
And last but not least, there was Gerard Way, Frank’s best friend, renowned rebel and ditcher of all school classes. Oh, and a total and utter sex god who was constantly followed around by little flocks of simpering, sniggering girls, and occasionally very, very angry headmasters. You’d think the headmaster would have been pleased when Gerard decided to redecorate the mouldering boys changing rooms with a mural of vampires, bats and the entire collection of the school’s staff having their brains nibbled on by zombies, but strangely, he wasn’t. In fact, he resigned two days later due to dangerously high blood pressure- he hadn’t been medically advised to take a year off and eat lots of broccoli, as that was supposedly good for the heart.
Anyway, Frank, Mikey, Ray, Bob and Gerard all been watching The Crow in the early hours of Saturday morning during one of their many sleepovers, and for some reason, Gerard had decided to steal Frank’s bag of skittles. Frank had not been a happy bunny about this; skittles were his life and only love.
So he’d lunged furiously across the sofa, making Mikey spill his coffee and have a mental breakdown, and started digging his fingers into Gerard’s sides in attempt to retain his skittles.
Gerard, usually a very cool and composed person, totally lost it; he was flailing and twitching and sucking his breath in like he was having some kind of seizure, wriggling about all over the sofa and showering Ray’s ‘fro with skittles.
And then Frank got that weird feeling in his stomach. Like, tingly butterflies and shit. In fact, he felt fucking hot. Like, the all the things Bob was always going on about feeling around girls. Except this was with his best friend, Gerard. Who was a guy. A guy who had his skittles.
Gerard was writhing and squirming and squealing girlishly, and Frank loved it. In fact, he loved it so much, he forgot the reason he was even tickling Gerard until Gerard wildly threw the, by that time, nearly empty bag of skittles at Frank and yelped “Take them!” while continuing to have some kind of strangely arousing seizure.
Frank reluctantly slid back to his place, heart thumping against his chest the way he’d only felt it do when he was watching Green Day on TV and Billie Joe snogged that fan. Lucky bastard. Frank would have killed to have been able to treasure the saliva of his favourite rock star for ever and ever.
A couple of minutes later, after Frank had returned somewhat distractedly to the movie, picking skittles from Ray’s man-eating ‘fro in front of him, his shaky fingers fumbled and he spilled two strawberry skittles into his lap.
And that’s when he noticed something utterly and horrifically terrifying in the dark of the living room and the flickery light of the TV.
He had a boner.
So there he was, a week later, sitting in the school table with a tearful Ray, who’d just been reminded of his beloved little Clive when his biology class had to dissect small, furry rodents, a momentarily happy Mikey with a fresh mug of coffee, and a drooling Bob, and Frank was wondering just what the actual fuck was going on with him and the whole tingly stomach business. It had been bothering him all fucking week.
He was also wondering where the fuck Gerard was- it just wasn’t right without him sitting there, smirking from behind his ebony hair and making darkly humorous comments. In fact, Frank found that his leg was jiggling up and down in anxious anticipation and he couldn’t stop his head from jerking towards the canteen doors every two minutes to check if his best friend had appeared.
“You okay there, midget man?” Mikey asked, poking Frank’s nose and jerking him from his confused thoughts with a pointy finger.
“Don’t call me midget!” Frank growled angrily, flicking a stray bit of grated cheese from Bob’s forgotten, limp cheese and salad sandwich at Mikey’s face.
However, it missed and landed in Mikey’s blessed mug of coffee.
Everyone held their breath, waiting for the explosion. Bob even managed to tear his eyes away from the girls at the table nearby and wipe the little trail of spittle from his chin.
Mikey, however, failed to notice where the cheese had landed, and it slowly sunk into the depths of his mug, leaving Frank, Ray and Bob to sigh in relief and return to their previous occupations; thinking, wailing, and drooling.
Just a usual day for Frank’s little group.
“Sorry, sorry,” Mikey rolled his hazel eyes in apology at Frank’s touchiness over his abnormal height. “But seriously, what’s up, dude? You’ve been acting funny all week- you didn’t even try and shove that first year into a locker when they joked they were taller than you.”
“That’s because the first year wouldn’t have fitted,” Frank said grudgingly. “He was really fucking tall.”
“Whatever,” Mikey rolled his eyes again. “You just haven’t been yourself. Something on your mind?”
Frank sighed, glancing towards the canteen doors again, fleetingly wondering whether to confess to Mikey when he saw a familiar slim, black-clad figure saunter through the doors and his stomach leapt for some unknown reason.
The school food did do strange things to the stomach, after all. It just wasn’t right for gravy to taste like decomposing innards. Not that Frank actually knew what decomposing innards tasted like, thank god. But seriously, they couldn’t have been worse than the school gravy.
“I’m fine,” Frank said hurriedly before Gerard flung himself down beside Frank and grinned his signature crooked grin, showing off all his tiny little teeth.
Mikey raised a sceptical eyebrow, but returned to his coffee in silence.
“Howdy, motherfuckers,” Gerard grinned, planting a small kiss on Frank’s cheek and casually slinging an arm round the back of his best friend’s chair.
Frank felt all weird and tingly again, but ignored it completely. It was nothing. Obviously. Nothing at all.
Gerard started telling them all some story about his latest addition to the mural in the boys changing room, while Frank, for once, zoned out, his mind trying and trying to piece together the confusing events of Friday night.
Eventually, he came to the temporary conclusion that perhaps he just got more excited than was natural over skittles, and maybe needed to see a therapist, because didn’t want to think about his strange feelings right there- he wanted to listen to the husky Jersey accent of Gerard’s voice and gaze into those bottomless emerald eyes ringed with smoky black until the bell rang.
Frank’s daydreaming, Gerard’s story telling, Bob’s drooling and Ray’s crying were brought to an abrupt halt as Mikey reached the dregs of his coffee and the soulful little shred of cheese floated limply into view.
Frank was just thinking how fascinating it was the way Gerard’s eyes crinkled up when he grinned, when-
“WHO THE FUCK PUT CHEESE IN MY COFFEE?!” Mikey yelled furiously, making everyone jump. “FRANK, IF IT WAS YOU, I’LL FUCKING CASTRATE YOU WITH MY ART SCISSORS, RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW, YOU LITTLE MIDGET FUCKER!!”
The whole canteen went ominously silent.
And Mikey was actually starting to foam at the mouth.
“I’m not even fucking joking, you stunted little elf,” Mikey whispered ominously, leaning across the table and shaking in fury. “I seriously will remove your cock.”
Frank thought that this might not be such a bad thing; after all, he’d never get a mysterious possible skittle boner again, and he could stop obsessing over it all.
The second time it happened was in the Gerard’s room. It was on a rainy Thursday afternoon, and Frank had gone round to Gerard’s after a particularly fascinating maths lesson to listen to music and overdose on cookies as they frequently did.
It was all Gerard’s fault, really.
He’d very mistakenly called Frank an ‘adorable little elf’, and Frank had huffed and puffed and blown the foam off Gerard’s coffee in fury at his height being commented on.
Gerard had just laughed, showing off all his strangely cute, minute teeth, and poked Frank teasingly in the ribs.
Frank poked him back in retaliation, smiling slightly as the tiniest little jab of his finger into his best friend’s ribs made Gerard squirm ridiculously, flailing and knocking his coffee all over the carpet as he wriggled and wriggled.
Once he started shuddering in that strangely hot seizure way, Frank, for some reason found it was almost impossible to stop what he was doing.
Next thing he knew, Gerard was sprawled on his back, gasping and writhing and tossing his head desperately on his deep purple duvet, Frank was straddling him, grinning evilly as he dug his fingers into his friend’s sides.
Gerard sucked his breath in, digging his nails into the sheets and shuddering in a way that made Frank’s already tingling stomach go completely wild, and resulting in his fingers only tickling poor little Gerard more mercilessly.
Perhaps it was the fact that Gerard was usually such a composed, cool and collected person that made it so strange seeing him writhing and thrashing and shuddering in a gaspy, dishevelled mess on his own bed. Perhaps this was why Frank suddenly felt a huge urge to ravish his best friend there and then.
It was only when Frank leant further over Gerard to tickle him further that their hips bumped clumsily and Frank felt a sudden hot surge of tingly pleasure, which made him freeze to the spot. Well, to Gerard’s hips to be precise.
And yeah, he was pressing something onto Gerard that really shouldn’t be there. And yeah, he really was going to die there and then. And…just…fuck.
Terrified, Frank leapt up, muttering something about the bathroom and bolting out of Gerard’s room, onto the landing.
“Hi Frank,” Mikey said brightly from where he was coming up the stairs with a large mug of coffee and a caffeine induced beam.
“Unughmopph,” Frank gasped, stumbling past desperately.
“Nice boner,” Mikey said causally.
“Thanks,” Frank mumbled distractedly as Mikey’s bedroom door clicked shut behind him. And that was when Frank realised what Mikey had just said.
Forgetting his mission to get to the bathroom as quickly as possible, Frank pounded on Mikey’s door.
“Come in,” Mikey’s voice called.
Frank flung open the door.
“What the fuck did you just say?!” he yelped in anguish.
“Um, come in?” Mikey looked baffled.
“No, on the landing, you fucktard!”
“Oh. That,” Mikey smirked, taking a gulp of coffee. “I complimented you on your boner. Must be your first, right?”
“It’s not my first, you fucker!”
“Well sorry. I just assumed.”
“Just because I don’t fuck my ‘fro-loving friend’s girlfriends in the maths storeroom at school!”
“Hey, that was a one off,” Mikey protested.
“And then you went and KILLED his fucking guinea pig!”
“He loved it more than his girlfriend- it just wasn’t right.”
“You squished it.”
“That’s not the point, midget! The point is that you just walked out of my older brother’s room with a boner, which, by the way, is still there,” Mikey said matter-of-factly.
“Shit!” Frank yelped, backing from the room with a face on fire.
“So are you two dating?” Mikey called after him.
“No!” Frank protested, his voice suddenly going all funny and high pitched.
“Then why have you got a boner?”
“It’s a long story!” Frank snapped, slamming the door behind him and storming out onto the landing.
And that was when he realised.
Had he, Frank Iero, boy of sixteen, just got turned on tickling his best friend?
What kind of insane fuckery was this?! Perhaps he really did need that therapist…
After that little incident, Frank avoided Mikey at all costs, especially as the skinny little coffee addict smirked at him whenever he saw Frank blush when Gerard sat down beside him, or saw Frank draw little hearts all over his Chemistry jotter that, apparently, looked like the letter ‘G’.
Frank, however, also found himself unable to hold himself back from tickling his gothic best friend at every possible moment over the next couple of weeks; in school, in the common room, the canteen, at Frank’s house, at sleepovers, at the park. They got kicked out of the cinema because poor Frank couldn’t stop tickling Gerard, and Gerard flailed so wildly someone called the ambulance because he thought he was having a seizure.
Gerard also very nearly drowned in the local swimming pool thanks to Frank’s new lack of control over his tickling fingers; the gothic teen had to be resuscitated by the lifeguard with the disturbingly hairy arms.
Frank just couldn’t seem to stop himself; tickling his best friend had become some sort of fucked up, unhealthy addiction.
He loved every moment of tickling Gerard; the way Gerard shuddered and gasped and writhed and screwed his eyes shut, hair flopping wildly across his usually composed face; the way Frank’s stomach fluttered crazily with tingly butterflies and his lower belly flipped inside out with pleasure; the feel of Gerard’s skinny ribs under his fingers, and the way Gerard snatched desperately at Frank’s clothes as if he was going to tear them right off.
It was only when Frank realised that he had had more boners in the past fortnight than in his entire life before, he was forced to admit there was maybe something a little weird going on. Especially seeing as he seemed to be getting off on torturing his best, male friend.
Despite the obviousness of the situation, Frank tried to deny all this as much as possible- it was all just a little bit too weird for him, and there was no way he could be gay. No way at all.
However, when their French teacher, Mr. Partridge, lost the plot completely after catching Frank tickling Gerard for the seventh time that period, and sent them to the headmaster, it became harder to ignore. Poor Mr. Partridge also had to take a few days off due to stress and the fact that his classroom was being rebuilt; while Gerard had been writhing about on the classroom floor under Frank, he’d somehow managed to break three tables, destroy the bookshelf, and seriously injure a random student, who was now bound up in plaster cast and had a very nice little pair of crutches.
Frank was getting a little stressed out by this time; he was getting a little more than freaked out by his tickling urges, and the fact he was plagued by dreams of Gerard every night.
Everything came to a head when Ray called Frank up one Tuesday afternoon and asked him over.
Frank chucked on his converse and a hoodie before grabbing his iPod and blasting his music so loud he couldn’t hear the thoughts he didn’t want to think and had been plaguing his brain all week, as his feet pounded the familiar route to Ray’s house.
He just couldn’t be turned on by his male best friend. Tickling his male best friend.
There was NO WAY. Ever.
And at least no one had noticed.
However, it turned out that someone had noticed.
Once Frank had been ushered into Ray’s small, cosy bedroom with the walls plastered with photos of poor little deceased Clive and his gingerness, Ray propelled him towards the bed, offered him a bag of sour skittles, and turned to look at him so seriously that Frank nearly choked on his pink skittle.
“I know what’s going on, Frankie,” Ray said quietly.
Frank’s stomach jumped anxiously.
“W-what do you mean?” Frank stammered, totally failing at his attempt at casualness.
“You. You want Gerard’s cock,” Ray said matter-of-factly.
Frank did choke that time, and Ray had to slap him on the back until his airways were clear of skittles.
“W-w-w-w-w-what?” Frank gasped.
“I’ve seen you. The way you look at him. You’ve looked at him like that for years, but it’s been getting worse recently with this whole tickling thing.”
“I don’t get aroused by tickling Gerard!” Frank yelped, leaping up and scattering skittles everywhere.
“Um, I didn’t say you did,” Ray smirked, while Frank wanted to die. Why couldn’t Ray’s ‘fro just absorb him?! All that puffy hair had to be good for something.
“But I know that you want his babies.”
“Ray, that’s impossible. We’re dudes.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Would you hate me if it was true?”
“Frank!” Ray exclaimed indignantly. “Of course not. But I really think you should tell Gerard.”
“How?!” Frank panicked slightly, dropping more skittles on Ray’s carpet.
“Well, I’d say the fact you get a boner every time you tickle him is pretty self-explanatory, but Gerard can be dense about these things…Just tell him straight out.”
“Seize every opportunity of love you can, Frank. You never know when it’ll end,” at this point, Ray turned to look sadly at a framed photo of him and Clive on his dressing table.
Then he looked back at Frank with a disturbingly intense expression. “Tell him, Iero.”
“Do I have to?” Frank whined.
“Yes,” Ray said firmly. “You have to stop getting off on tickling him. It’s not healthy, Frank.”
In the end, Frank didn’t need to tell Gerard. It happened all by itself.
It was third period on Thursday, and Frank and Gerard were alone in the form common room at school, having both been banned from French after the slight mishap of the week before. They were both meant to be doing French revision, but that was just never going to happen.
Gerard was sketching away at one of his multiple drawings, and Frank was staring at him. He might even have accidentally drooled a little bit, but he’d never have admitted it. It wasn’t his fault- it was Gerard’s. He was the one with those ridiculously and amazingly tight skinny jeans.
However, Gerard must have got fed up with whatever he was sketching, because he suddenly looked up and caught Frank staring and drooling. He smirked widely, showing off all his cute little teeth and making Frank want to jump on him and tickle him to death.
Well, not actually to death. He quite liked Gerard, and if he died, he’d have no one to tickle. And seriously, he liked tickling a lot.
“What you staring at?” Gerard smirked.
Frank blushed furiously, ducking his head. “Nothing.”
“I was staring at your skinny jeans.”
Frank mentally facepalmed and wished Ray’s ‘fro was there to suck him into the pits of hell.
Gerard smirked even wider and got up, sauntering across to where Frank was sitting and swaying his hips exaggeratedly in a way that made Frank want to expire even more than he had a minute ago.
He was scared. He was alone in the common room with the sexiest guy in existence and a hormone crazed mind and a tickling fetish, and fuck, Frank was really fucking terrified.
“Hey,” Gerard whispered huskily into the shell of Frank’s ear, sitting down dangerously close to him and leaning his face closer still.
“Ugowejwepg,” Frank melted and then mentally slapped himself. He didn’t do the whole pathetic and melting thing- he was the mighty midget, Frank Iero and he didn’t do the whole soppy teenage shit thing.
“So, Bob was telling me something interesting,” Gerard murmured even more tantalizingly into Frank’s ear, making him squirm and clench his fingers so as not to suddenly tickle rape Gerard.
“Umherjii?” Frank managed.
“He was telling me about an interesting something you were dreaming about last night when you stayed over at his,” Gerard grinned devilishly. “You were talking in your sleep.”
Frank was dead. This was so, so bad. He dreamt of tickling Gerard last night. Why did he have to talk in his sleep?! God had no mercy on the little people.
“O-Oh.” Frank breathed.
“You wanna tell me about it?” Gerard smirked evilly, tracing Frank’s ear with his finger and making him shiver.
“Not really. Shut up, Gee,” Frank said feebly.
“Make me,” Gerard purred seductively.
And really, he’d asked for it. It wasn’t Frank’s fault his fingers were suddenly digging into his best friend’s ribs once more, and that Gerard was sprawled on the squashy blue seats between Frank’s thighs, shuddering and squirming and sucking in his breath.
“B-Bob-ngoeirywrjypjwperjopjyw-eeeeooppppgpg-was-oooogheiiep-right,” Gerard gasped between breaths, and somehow managed to smirk at Frank, despite the fact he was currently experiencing death by tickling.
Frank flushed furiously, and tickled Gerard more fiercely in revenge.
Gerard was soon a writhing, sweaty, panting heap beneath Frank, and Frank’s stomach was tingling more widely than ever before, not to mention the way he kept getting those delicious little surges of hot pleasure in his lower belly.
When Gerard squirmed so much his hips brushed Frank’s, Frank couldn’t stop a low groan slipping out of his mouth and that was all what exploded it, really.
Gerard’s lips were suddenly smashing into Franks, his arms winding round the shorter’s waist, crushing him down on his shuddering body as their lips meshed furiously against one another’s; a panting, gaspy, fierce battle of tongues and lips and hands.
Frank’s heart was slamming against his ribs as Gerard pushed his hands up through Frank’s hair, sending goose bumps all down his spine while Frank ground his hips into Gerard’s and they both moaned raggedly, kissing harder and faster, gasping desperately against each other’s swollen lips.
Things were just really starting to heat up as Gerard slipped a hand between their gyrating hips, when the common room door slammed open and they both pulled apart, sitting up guiltily to see Mikey storming in, once again foaming at the mouth ant looking ready to kill.
“Frank, I KNOW IT WAS YOU WHO FLICKED THAT CHEESE IN MY COFFEE!!” Mikey yelled, beside himself with fury. “I’M GUNNA FUCKING CHOP YOUR BABY-MAKING BITS OFF!”
Luckily for Frank, who really, really didn’t want to lose his ‘baby-making’ bits anymore, Ray appeared in the doorway, took one look at Frank and Gerard’s guilty smiles, too-tight jeans, ruffled hair and pink cheeks, and then Mikey foaming and frothing at the doorway.
Without further ado, he grabbed Mikey by the neck and hauled him, kicking and screaming out of the room, shutting the door behind them.
Frank blushed as Gerard smirked triumphantly at him.
“I was right,” Gerard grinned, poking Frank in the ribs.
Frank poked him back and Gerard had one of those weirdly arousing seizure-type reactions, making Frank’s lower belly flip inside out so many times he thought it was going to explode.
Next thing he knew, he was crashing his lips furiously into Gerard’s, crushing his best friend frantically against him and working his lips erratically against his, heart pounding right out of his chest as their hips ground together unevenly.
Finally, they both pulled apart, pink-cheeked and gasping.
“You’re a fucked-up little horny midget, aren’t you?” Gerard smirked, panting slightly.
And really, Frank had to agree there.
What did you think? I hope it was okay…sorry if it was a bit too random and crazy! Please rate and review and tell me what bit you liked best? That is, assuming you liked it at all…I’d love to know what you think and I could really do with cheering up right now. Thanks for reading! :D