Frerard smut one-shot, featuring the oh-so-sexy French language.
It would kinda be a help if you spoke French here or whatever, but eh, do whatcha like, I ain't your boss. Note that this oneshot contains buttsex between two guys and all that fun stuff.
The song referenced is 'Lady Marmalade' originally by the Labelles but later covered by Christina Aguilera, P!nk and Lil Kim.
Btw, apologies to any French homies who read this, you guys make awesome food and your language is attractive as fuck. I cannot do either the accent grave or the acute because the shift button on my laptop is all fucky.
Frank tapped at the wooden door, glancing at his watch; three fifty seven. Three minutes early.
The door swung open and the sixteen year old was met by his boyfriend, three years older. Gerard was grinning widely, posing suggetively. His blunt, miniature teeth filled into a large smile as he winked at the other one, slithering a crafty arm around his thin waist. Frank scowled but struggled to keep his giggles in.
"Hi Gee," he said brightly, giving Gerard a prim kiss. He was very surprised to see Gerard dressed up; his neat hair and tight waistcoat, clean-cut and eagar. He normally donned jeans and shirts. "I really appreciate this."
The author should perhaps at this point provide an explanation; at this time Gerard Way, just graduated from high school, had invited his long-term partner, Frank, to share a little study session. Frank was a straight A student who studied tirelessly every night (even on weekends) to achieve his lifetime goal of going to Yale when he retired from the daily grind of high school. The problem, was, however, that Frank happened to find French troubling. It seemed apprehensive to him; the complicated verbal construction (he always mixed up the futur and the l'imparfait) confused him, the throaty accent made him feel self-conscience in class when he was told to read out work. Instead of sounding seductive and quixotic, his version of French sounded robotic and slightly stacatto, stuttering and stumbling along like a broken-down train.
Gerard, the polite and caring soul he was, offered from the good of his heart French study sessions. He had always found French easy and had gotten an A in both his written and his oral exam. Frank had taken him up on the offer and here he was, as promised, at four o' clock on Friday evening. He had several pens, notebooks and his pocket dictionary. He didn't quite know what his boyfriend had in store.
"Ah, bonjour mon petit ami, mon amour, ma vie," Gerard declared dramatically, closing his eyes and pressing Frank right up to his chest. Iero tried not to focus on how truely divine and rapturous his other half smelled (and looked) right now. With a B minus staring him in the face, he couldn't afford to trade French for sex. "I 'ave been waiting for...so long, 'ow you say, to see mon garcon beau," he said in a ridiculous imitation of a French accent. Frank sighed and rolled his eyes to heaven, pushing past Gerard to get into his apartment.
"I love what you've done with the place, Gee," Frank snorted as he stepped into Gerard's haphazard, chaotic dorm room. He shared it with two other guys, Bryar and Toro, who were friendly, sure, but Gerard had specifically required their complete and total absence today due to his plans with Frank. Assorted CD's, books, clothing and pizza boxes littered the floor and the paint job left a lot to be desired. Nonetheless, Frank regarded this place as his home-his parents were currently going through a rather nasty divorce and he prefered to spend time here than in the local courthouse. He nudged a DVD cover with his foot and a large mouse squeaked indignantly. "Gerard! Have you ever cleaned anything in your l-"
"Ah ah ah!" The nineteen year old said, wagging his finger as he made his way over to the boy pointing at the mouse. "From now on it's Monsieur to you." He slapped his boyfriend rather harshly on the ass; the five foot four let out a shriek. "And you will be called Franc."
"Frank. That's my name already."
"No no no-Franc. Like Fronk," he trilled, wearing another ridiculous facial expression. Frank giggled and bounced on the couch, shoving a stuffed penguin off the chair in the process. "Yanno. All romantic and shit. The French dig that sorta crap."
"Gerard, I'll have you know that that is generalizing and stereotyping and that is a minute form of racism-"
"Silence sils vous plaits," the older boy said in a snotty voice as he placed himself next to his boyfriend. "Now. I have some rules that must be adheered to whilst in my class. Une: I at all times must be addressed as Monsieur. Failure to comply with that will result in punishment. Comprendre?"
"OUI, MONSIEUR!" Gerard screeched at top volume; Frank jumped in shock and aftermath, nearly collpasing off the couch. Gerard was standing on the branching armrest of the couch, arm punched in a pseudo-military victorious position. His eyes were sparkling. "Honestly, Franc, how do other teachers control you?" Gerard fixed his tie and regarded Frank with a steely, jaundiced eye. "Deux-punishments will consist of spanking." Way brandished a tea towel from behind the sofa and threw it like a whip against a nearby table. He smirked at the glorious cracking sound it emmited. Frank's mouth fell open. "On your bare ass." He looked stumped. "I mean, uh...derriere. Oui?"
"Garcon bon," Gerard replied. He grabbed a nearby pair of white and black glasses (Mikey, Gerard's younger brother, must have left them at his sibling's dorm, Frank figured) and propped them up on his nose. "And trois...whilst I will punish you for being cheeky, I will also reward you for being obidient." His smirk was barely visible behind the curtain of raven fringe. "Contente?"
"How will you..." Frank blushed a little as he mentally phrased the question. "How will you reward me, Monsieur?"
"French kissing, duh," Gerard said, flapping his hand flamboyantly. He perched precaiously on a chair behind a desk and tapped the available space next to him. "Come come, mon lapin petit. Come discover the language of...." he fluttered his eyelashes like a bad porno actress, "of love."
"I thought that was Italian."
"Screw Italy, croissants pwn pasta any day," Gerard declared. He turned to Frank. "So, Franc, how much Francais do you know?"
"Not much," he shrugged, biting his lip. Gerard waited patiently. "Just...the basic stuff. How to say my name, my age, stuff like that." He twisted his lipring with his tongue as he talked; a nervous habit. Gerard felt warmth settle at the base of his stomach. "Missus White says I really lack in adjectives and stuff."
"Missus White is just sore because she hasn't gotten laid in a million years," Gerard muttered and Frank giggled wildly. "Pumpkin, don't worry, French is really easy. Half of it's just being sexy as fuck." He flickered his eyes over Frank and bit his lip, nodding in an approving manner. "And Franc, you've got that covered already."
"No problem, sucre," he said. He raised an eyebrow. "Do you know what I just called you?"
"Uhhh..." Frank wracked his brains. Damn, they had studied food last week and he couldn't remember. "Flour?"
"Well...nearly, Franc," he said, smiling in an encouraging manner. "But I'd be a pretty shitty boyfriend if I called flour, wouldn't I? Sucre is sugar. Farine is flour." He smirked. "But you look so goddamn cute when you concentrate I'll spare the spanking..." a wink, "...for now."
Frank swiped his tongue along his bottom lip to refurbish it with moisture.
"Now, the way I learned French real well is by listening to songs, because class just got way too freaking boring." Gerard fished out his iPod and egarly scrolled through his list of artists, frowning every so often, mumbling. Frank considered it rather cute and found himself smiling fondly. "It's real easy and normally you can use the sentences in essays, makes you really good. Here," he handed Frank the iPod, earphones dangling like the legs of someone who had just fallen from the gallows. "Have a listen to this one."
Frank peered at the screen. "Katy Perry? Katy Perry is gonna help me learn French?" He scoffed. "I doubt she knows what French is."
"Sorry! Sorry, just, er, wrong one," Gerard jabbered quickly, a light pink glow shining from his pallid cheeks. "Mikey, um. Mikey uses my laptop, y'know, he adds some shit on there from time to time." He laughed nervously, in a tinkling falsetto, and swiped his finger along the devise. "There, that's the one."
Frank smiled as he recognized the song; Protege Moi, by Placebo. He had always heard the lyrics play instinctively in his mind but never knew them off by heart.
"Et maintenant nous sommes tout seuls," Gerard hummed softly, sending an oddly erotic shiver down the younger boy's spine. Gerard's voice sounded husky and deep, like he was rolling sweets in his mouth. "What's that mean, Franc?"
"And....and...." he squeezed his eyes shut, the verb of 'etre' quickly washing over him. "And now we're all alone."
He looked up at those hazel eyes, swirling with fractious lust. The boy quickly ducked his head; Gerard had intentionally picked a line that hinted at something entirely different than tutoring French.
"Bravo, Franc," he whispered right into the shell of his boyfriend's ear. He moved his hand ever so slightly up on Frank's leg, beginning to stoke his skin subtlely, poker face never faltering. Frank's jeans felt tight in an irritating, pleasant way. He crossed his legs to try and disrupt Gerard's groping but the older boy simply squeezed his package lightly. Frank gasped lightly and ripped the earphones from his ears.
"S-stop, Gerard," he tried to say firmly. His voice was a thin, high wobble. "N-not now. I n-need to st-study." He tried to perfect his glare. "Gerard-I'm fucking warning you-"
Suddenly, without any forewarning or being brought to his attention, Frank felt an almighty whack being delivered to his left ass cheek. The force was so powerful and cogent that the sixteen year old screeched (both from the shock of being smacked and the undeniable pleasure he got from the pseudo-sadism) and fell from his chair, ending up sprawling on the floor, legs spread wide and face first into the molten and bacteria-infested carpet. He groaned half with frustration and half with confusion.
Frank instantly flipped himself over on the floor and glared at his boyfriend, who was ironically giving him a withering look.
"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR-"
"Now now, Franc, what did I tell you about calling me that? I'm Monsieur, baby, you gotta remember that. I said I'd punish you for being bad." He mock-tutted and rose from his chair, linking his arms behind his back. "I suppose it was really my fault...I was too liberal with you...you obviously thought that was tolerable." He sighed heavily and sank down to straddle Frank's waist. His tie hovered about the younger boy and tickled his nose. Gerard's teacher role was fading; he was wearing trouser braces, which he was now unclasping and letting them fall down his shoulders. "My God, you'll never learn..."
"Hold up," Gerard ordered suddenly. A new song was playing on his iPod in the background and he pulled a face, biting his lip ferociously. He was working his hips against his boyfriend's, smiling devilishly. He began to sing in a low hum. "Hey sister, go sister, soul sister, flow sister-"
"Oh, Gerard," Frank giggled breathlessly. He tried in vain to push the heavier boy off of him, and gasped when Gerard slid his hand up Frank's shirt. The nineteen year old pinched his nipples and flicked them seemingly carelessly between his fingertips in rhythm with the music. "Gerard, this is silly, we'll get caught, this isn't even French-"
"Sure it is," Gerard said whilst doing a very cheery stripper impression, pushing his chest out as he let his shirt from his shoulders. He winked at Frank conspicuously and sashayed his ass to and fro. The boy was mezmerized by the older one's fluid, seductive movements and suddenly those innocent chocolate orbs were burning and churning with hopeless lust. "There's some French in here somewhere, you can tranaslate it-"
Frank felt himself gettin hotter and more crazed. His pants bulged and he was having trouble breathing from laughing at Gerard's slutty doings.
Gerard, using every inch of romanticism in his body, crawled over his boyfriend, dragging the tip of his nose along his abdomen, his neck, eventually aligning up with the other's face. He flipped his hair and grinded against Frank's prodominant erection, straining against the fabric of his jeans. The younger was almost in pain from having to wait; minutes ago he had been deadset on learning his French verbs and not being conned into Gerard's erotic games. Now he was on the floor, jaw wide open for flies, legs spread wide. Gerard was moving superlatively with the music, like this song had personally been created to serve as Way's very own theme music.
"Ready, sugar?" Gerard teased, pulling on his bottom lip, running his hands over all the skin in his reach. He undid Frank's belt buckle in a subtle fashion and smirked self-indulgently, like the cat who got the cream. He using the pad of his thumb to gently stroke the delicate, quivering skin along Frank's waist. "Ready to parlez some Francais, Franc?"
"Y-yes," he shuddered in a gasp. His eyes rolled backwards as Gerard used his tongue to trace a circle inside his navel. It felt absurdly, ridiculously, overwhelmingly, unbearably good. "I-I mean....oui, Monsieur..."
"Good," Gerard whispered. He waited for the oppurtune moment in the song for Christina to sing in her nasal falsetto. "Voulez vous..."
Frank's pouty lips quivered in anticipation. Gerard's lips were mere inches from his; he was salivating at the thought of kissing him.
Gerard smirked widely, closing his eyes and hitching the boy's trousers down.
"Coucher avec moi...."
The sixteen year old squealed shrilly when Gerard's hand flicked down his boxer shorts, leaving him lying, practically naked, on his boyfriend's dorm room floor. Gerard was shirtless, shuffling his legs so that he could attempt at undoing his zip. He took Frank's little hand in his and guided it downwards. The other one gingerly tugged on the metal, so wrapped up in his lust that he nearly forgot to translate.
"Sl-sl-sleep with m-me...."
The final two words completed the final offer for Frank.
He blinked dumbly, like a puppy who had just broken something of value.
Gerard flipped his younger counterpart over onto his front, yanking Frank's shirt off over his head and straddling him. His eyes widened as he drank in the tanned, thin torso his boyfriend had shown him so many times. Gerard slid his hand down Frank's back, sending sparks of raw electricity up his spine. The older one shrugged out of his black jeans, confiscating of the teacher facade, and began the process of grinding his erection against the boy's poorly concealed entrance.
Frank was certainly being very responsive, groaning and grunting he was heavily into sex; he was barely into foreplay at this stage. The older one leant down and bit hard on Frank's soft, smooth skin. When he pulled back, Gerard was satisfied with the slightly red indent on the surface. He slipped his hands below Frank's underwear and dug his nails hard enough into his cheeks to leave bruises.
"Monsieur..." Frank moaned hopelessly, sticking his backside into the air in need of some desperate friction. Gerard forced him back down and he let out small cries of desire. "Sils vous plait, Monsieur...sils vous plait, fuck me..."
"Uh uh uh," Gerard chided, waggling his finger. "Basier is the French for to fuck. Therefore, using the verbal structure of 'etre', it should be basie moi-"
"STOP CORRECTING MY FRECNH GRAMMATICAL ERRORS AND FUCK ME!"
Surprised at the sudden outburst, Gerard grabbed a beret from the nearby table and rammed it on his touselled raven locks. He forced Frank down on the ground again, lining up to shove inside him. Gerard had had many lovers before Frank but the boy was by far the most responsive, by far the best. It was the fact that he felt he could anything around Frank that let him be so liberal....and, well, strange as hell.
"Why are you-" Frank mewled loudly when Gerard worked his right index finger into his tight entrace, wedging the digits in between his constricting band of muscles. "What's....what's with the hat, Gee?"
"I figure since we're going with a French theme here," Gerard managed to say between pants. He rubbed against something bundled and bud-like within Frank and smiled when the boy groaned. "Besides, berets are awesome..."
Seeing he had done his preparation well, Gerard took a deep breath and went in for the kill. His skilled hands spread Frank wide and he penetrated slowly, taking his sweet old time to slip in gently as opposed to shove himself inside Frank and pray for the best. He bucked his hips as he became more crazed and frenzied, pushing his abdomen against Frank's lower back as the boy under neath him screeched with pleasurable pressure.
"Fuck-fuck, Gee," he managed to stutter in a tight, choked voice. "I'm gonna-I'm gonna-"
"French," Gerard panted back, not able to manage more than mono-syllabic answers. "Speak Fr-French f-for me, b-baby." He growled animalistically, right from the base of his diaphragm, as he felt himself liable to explode any minute now. "C'mon...just a little longer..."
"Ohhh....oui, Monsieur." He vibrated suddenly, causing beautiful friction between him and Gerard; it took Way a second or teo to comprehend that he was riding through his orgasm. "MON DIEU!" He screeched, white spurting from him and squirting into Gerard's open palm. The older boy gyrated into Frank one last time before he was spet. He came right inside his lover, his tip teasing the younger boy's sensitive spot and emitting a few more feeble cries from Frank in the process. Gerard collapsed onto the sixteen year old, exhausted both mentally and physically.
"Oh my God," Frank panted, "that was so good."
"I know. I didn't know you were that good in bed, Franc," Monseiur Way said. "Sacrebleu."
Yeah in case you don't know I'm a freak