Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Sing It Like the Kids That Are Mean to You


by benzedrine_barbie 6 reviews

A little something-something, the magnificent Frank A. Iero, and self-help.

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: R - Genres: Angst,Drama,Humor - Characters: Frank Iero,Gerard Way - Warnings: [X] [Y] - Published: 2011-01-19 - Updated: 2011-01-20 - 2096 words


It was easy to just not think. The song ended and was replaced by something hot and fast, a flutter of hurried notes that I could feel in my ribcage. He shifted under me, spreading his legs apart so I could feel the massive bulge in his jeans. I ground my hips against his. He moaned into my open mouth, clutching at my ass to push me closer. The room was filled with the sounds of our breathing. I couldn’t even hear the music anymore, just his heaving chest. The way his mouth hung open. He could barely keep his eyes from sliding shut.

I smoothed his hair back from his face and settled lower in his lap. I pressed my lips to his neck and stifled a smile as he gasped. I nipped gently at his delicate white skin, sucking and leaving little marks under his ear and along his collarbone. When my lips met the cotton fabric of his shirt, I stopped and he let me tug it over his head.

“Unhh,” he ground out as my mouth closed around one pink nipple, sucking and rolling it between my teeth. His hand wound into my hair. His voice was weak. “Frankie...”

“I’ve wanted you in my room for so long,” I whispered. “I’ve wanted you for so long, period.”

“Same here.” The words sent chills down my spine. He pulled off my shirt and leaned back, surveying me with satisfaction. His hands slid down my shoulders and settled at my waist. I returned to kissing his chest. He seemed so vulnerable, gasping and holding me close to him like that. It was fun to have him at my mercy, to make him feel good.

I dropped to my knees in front of him and let him catch his breath for a second as I undid his zipper and pulled off his pants and boxers.

“Oh jeez—” he broke off, moaning as my lips closed around his throbbing cock. I took him deep, then pulled away again, swirling my tongue over the head. He let out a whimper and thrust into my mouth. I felt his fingers twine into my hair. He was so responsive, so sexy, crying out my name as he got close. I used every last trick I knew. “Fuck, Frankie,” he panted as I let my teeth just graze the underside of his erection. A moment later he exploded into my mouth. I swallowed everything I could, trying to wipe the stupid grin off my face. He gently helped me off the floor and hugged me tightly as the aftershocks ran through him.

His cheeks were flushed pink and his hair was all sweaty. He kissed me tenderly, still breathless.

“You smoke too much,” I told him. But I liked the feeling of his warm breath fanning over my face.

He beamed down at me. “It’s my only vice. I’ll cut back, I promise, it’s just...something I do when I’m bored, I guess.”

“I understand.” I leaned my forehead into his neck. He sighed into my hair.

“Who’s the sex god now, Frankie boy?”

“Can we please get rid of that nickname?”

“Nope.” He smirked. “It’s grown on me.”

I got off of him and lay down on the bed. The sheets were soft, and it had been a long day. I could feel his hazel eyes moving over every inch of my exposed torso. I stretched luxuriantly, and he smiled. “Think of some alternatives. Please,” I begged.

“Frankorini, Frankface, Frankattack. It just rolls of the tongue.” He pushed his hair out of his face and lay down next to me. “Except for that last one.” He snuggled closer, dragging his cheek over my bare chest. A wave of heat shot through me.

“Unhhh,” I moaned. He gave me a smirk.

“No need to vocalize, sweetheart. I can feel your hot young blood just rushing.” He turned his head and slowly licked up my ribs. When he came to my nipple, he popped it into his mouth and sucked gently, eliciting another low moan from me. He smiled and made a noise of satisfaction. “Shh,” he whispered as he put his hand over my mouth.


“What?” He parted his fingers.

“I was gonna say, speaking of rolling off the tongue...”

His laugh sounded like smoke. “You’re so funny, Frankie baby. I liked you from the minute I saw you, you know that?” He pressed another kiss into my skin. I struggled to think as his hot lips worked their way up to my collarbone.

“Are you saying that I looked sexy lying there with...blood all over my face, getting called a fag?” It was hard to breathe with his weight on top of me, pressing against me. “Because I know you’re sort of a vampire, but...that’s one sick fetish right there.”

“No, no,” he chuckled, gazing up at me with narrowed hazel eyes. “But we started talking, and you weren’t some stammering nerd, and—well—as I was wiping the blood away, I happened to notice you were kinda hot. I mean, not to put too fine a point on it, but you’ve got these eyes...” He stroked my cheek, a grin tugging at his kiss-swollen lips. “They look like caramel, Frankie. And your hair, and your mouth...” he shook his head, the tip of his perfect nose grazing my shoulder.

“You think I’m pretty?” I practically squeaked, shocked. He rolled his smoldering eyes.

“I think you’re magnificent,” he grinned, “for want of a better word.”

I just stared at him in wonder.

The most gorgeous boy in school, the one who turns everyone’s head wherever he goes, who’s cool and slick and always has everything under control—he thinks that I, Frank Iero—I’m pretty? No, not pretty. Magnificent.

I savored the word.

“Mmm,” he giggled as he traced a finger over my bicep. “You like that, don’t you? The magnificent Frank A. Iero. Maybe that’s the nickname I’m gonna use from now on.” With a wicked grin, he returned to kissing my neck.

“Oh, please, Gee—” I completely lost my train of thought when he dipped his tongue into the hollow at the base of my throat. “Ohhhh.” I sighed in sheer bliss. There was a knot of twisting, urgent energy in the pit of my stomach. My hands clenched into fists in the sheets. He seemed to sense he’d hit on something, because he sucked on my collarbone until I was just melting underneath him, one big puddle of ecstatic Frankie. He gave one last suck, then rolled off me with a satisfied smile pasted on his angelic face. Numbly, I passed him his pants and watched him hop around as he pulled them up, showcasing his perfect ass. My world was on fire.

I think I’m in love.

I made a face as the realization hit me. I’d been in love before, but I’d never gotten over the feeling of having my heart crushed like a tin can under an eighteen-wheeler. I hated that thin-skinned feeling, when the world was much too sharp and real and raw. It towered over me until I just ached. That was how being in love felt. To me, it was just the inevitable misery after a few brief, perfect weeks. I felt a twinge of pain as I took in the gorgeous guy in front of me. He hummed the first few bars of an Iron Maiden song as he buttoned his fly.

Better to not say anything. Better not to talk of love just yet.

I was happy, though. The smile came to my face unbidden as he leaned in and gave me a peck on the lips before hunting down his t-shirt. He tasted like honey.

“Come on, sugar. You better let me out the back before your mom comes home.”

I got up and followed him downstairs. He stopped in the hallway, tugging on his sneakers. His eyes fell on a photo of me from the fifth grade. My mom had taken it at our old house, the one with a big backyard and pink roses climbing up the porch. I was holding a lit sparkler, grinning at it with those wide little-kid eyes.

Gerard smiled. “You look just the same. Every bit as adorable. And every bit as much of a pyro.”

“Careful, or I’m gonna make Mikey get out the baby photos next time I’m at your house.”

“He wouldn’t dare. My mom has way too many photos of him taking bubble baths.” He laughed. I watched him shrug on his leather jacket and walk out the back door like he owned the place. He paused in the twilight and turned to look at me. “I’m crazy about you, Frank,” he said softly, biting his lip. “You know that, don’t you?”

“They better take us to a mental institution, because I’m just as crazy about you.” I put my arms around him and stood on my tiptoes so we were the same height. He kissed me, one hand on the back of my neck.

“And no one’s gonna tear us apart.”

I smiled shakily, glad the darkness hid my face. I couldn’t tell whether I was about to laugh or cry. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Gee. Don’t get lonely in your big house, all by yourself.”

“I won’t. I’ll think about you.”

He grabbed my ass and then ran off into the darkness, still laughing.


I’d barely gone back inside when I heard my mom’s key jingling in the lock.

Good timing, I thought to myself. If Gee had held out any longer, you might have gotten caught.

I doubted my mom would mind the fact that I’d had a friend over while she was away. But I shuddered to think how she’d react if she walked in on me blowing said friend. It didn’t bear thinking about.

“Hey, mom,” I said, trying to sound innocent as she opened the door.

Something was wrong. Her face was white and shocked.

“Frankie? What is this?” she asked, holding up a crudely scrawled note. I tried to ignore my shaking hands as I took it from her.

We’ll break your pretty neck.

I closed my eyes. “It’s a joke, mom. Just a stupid joke.”

“You’d tell me if anything was wrong, wouldn’t you?” she asked. I only dimly heard her voice.

“Everything’s fine.” I brushed past her and started up the stairs. I hated that there were tears in my eyes, hated that something so impersonal and idiotic still hurt. But no matter how many times something like this happened, it never stopped being painful.

I locked my door behind me and automatically went for my guitar, a beautiful white electric that I’d had for as long as I could remember. My mom had photos from when I was five of me clutching my most prized possession in my grubby little hands. Years later, nothing had changed.

I started slow, letting my fingers warm up with scales and easy power chords. The notes ran out into the still air. I forced myself not to think about hate crimes and to just focus on playing. It was the only thing I was good at; I felt echoes of joy as I hit a chord just right, that small triumph, that sound. I started playing a song my mom used to dance to on Saturdays, in our little kitchen. My fingers knew every note. I could feel the pain ebbing away, replaced by peace.


Hi guys! Sorry this took so long and seems so short, school's been all kinds of crazy. I meant to update last night, but I got to see Broken Social Scene at Terminal 5 (I live in New York City, in case you're wondering.) It was ah-mazing, they're one of my favorite bands, and I got back at midnight and had to go to bed. Sorry! After Friday, things will get less hectic and I'll update more, I promise. Let me know what you think, I'm gonna need some motivation to get me through this week! Can I ask for five rates or reviews, is that okay? I'll make up for it with a slammin', edge-of-your-seat update! :D love y'all! Xo, b_b
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