FicWad

The night air seems to spark a fire into everyone's hearts. It's the beginning of Summer and nothing can stop them now. Teens everywhere, just trying to find the perfect party and create the ultimate high. Boys trying to get a lay in wherever they can and girls waiting impatiently for that first kiss that'll make them each a worthy subject to speak of in the ladies' room.


And then there are the seldom few. The outcasts. The leather-jacket-wearers and the cigarette-smokers. The dweebs and ultimate geeks. The crashers. Among those are the outwardly strong and mentally weak; the leaders and the dirty crooks. They're feared and admired. Every jock secretly wants to indulge their bad boy side and take a card from those brave enough to make a life out of it. They're the un-favored and the ones to let you know just how full of shit you are. They're the ones we'll be focusing on tonight.


In walks the group's commanding officer. The takes-no-shit man; the one. Gerard Way's his name, and there's not a fucking soul he can't take. His right hand man and brother, Mikey Way, stands by his side just waiting to pounce on the lucky girl he'll be making his tonight. It's not an option. Everyone in the gang sees what they want and it becomes their's. That's what they're all used to; that's how it is. To the left of Mikey is none other than the brain of the group. The ultimate scum that still gets the chick. Toro's always on fire for one band or another. Records are his only fuel and he'll be lifting whichever beauts he can find from the losers' bedrooms upstairs. Lastly, there's Frankie. Pretty boy in disguise, no confidence to his name, Frankie. Pretty cedar wood eyes; pretty olive skin Frankie. He's never known what he wants and tonight'll be no exception. Lucky for him, he won't have much of a say in what goes down for him this evening. You won't hear a peep out of him, though. That's how he likes it. Domination's what he wants.


So the party's in full swing. The music's blaring but not a single lyric is absorbed. It's all about the beat and the rhythm; whether or not this tune makes you want to dance or bang or fight. If you're lucky enough, it'll make you want to do all three. That's the kinda band Toro seeks out. The kind of jam he lives for. Gerard takes his place cooly by the counter top. Everyone and their kid brother's showing up, and he can guess that not half of them could name the host. That doesn't matter to him, though. It's just another venue; just another paycheck and another place to stay. His mommy kicked him out when he was barely fifteen and he's been drifting ever since. Occasional school attendances and late-night parties are all this guy cares for anymore. The rest is all a blur thanks to the booze his friends so graciously offer, and the lumpy love seat he calls a bed. His eyes swoop over everybody in sight. There's only one prize on his mind tonight and he'll be fucking damned if he doesn't win it soon. Frankie. Pretty boy. That guy.


"Hey, Frank!" Gerard calls strongly, his relaxed elbow-out pose against the slab of counter is nothing but a detail. The real story is behind those eyes of his. The ones the shades like to cover up. Those hazel eyes that normally hold so much resentment for the world tend to melt when Frankie's in his presence. I think that's why he keeps him around.


"Yeah, Gee?" Frank asks, his gaze reluctant to land on those dark glasses resting tightly on his pretty face. Frank could just about cry every time Gerard's in his space. Those two have way too much history for a good apology to fix. They've beat one another 'til death was named the prize and they've shared too many smokes to count. But those kisses. Those stupid butterfly kisses and the heaving lip-smacking. Those false I love you's. Those are what keeps Frankie around and quiet. Those are the only thing keeping this boy alive. And Gerard knows it all too well.


"C'mere." Gerard says as he ushers the timid boy to his side. The thump and clash of each body in the room means absolutely nothing to him as his only possession takes his place near the counter. Right there, next to his hip. That's where Frankie should always be. "What's the matter?" Gerard asks in a very detached way. The cig he pulls from behind his ear is crumpled and bent, but that won't stop him from getting his fill. He lifts it up to his cracked, experienced lips and looks at Frank for the rest. Without missing a beat, Frank's match is out, giving flame and purpose to Gerard's cancer stick and adding another odor to the room. As Gerard puffs and exhales, Frank breathes in. That smell holds too much meaning for the word "hazard" to even make a dent in his head. It's the gang's only weakness and they announce it proudly to whomever they can.


"Nothing." Frank answers, bringing his hand back and watching the orange light blaze deeply at the end of Gerard's cigarette.


"So you up for something tonight?" Gerard asks as if Frank actually has a choice. Gerard's never forced him, no. But then again, he's never had to. Willing, eager Frankie's always been up for the job. Always ready to be Gerard's toy for those cold nights when nothing's worth the fight and all that's left to do is fuck and fight until you can't feel a thing or you just pass out. Frank's good for that, you see. He likes being roughed up a little bit. That's half the fun of being a chew toy. You get noticed; you get touched.


"Sure. Just say when." Frankie responds, his small hands digging deep inside of those stiff pockets of his. His fingers feel around for something other than pocket lint. Bingo. Chapstick. Without thinking much of it, he lifts it to his mouth. The move is supposed to be seductive, but at this point Gerard just wants to get it over with. He watches for a moment, sure. But not too much time goes by before Frank's hand is being grabbed and the lip balm has been put away. The two head upstairs with only one thing fresh on their minds. The people in the way know it's just best to move. For the sake of preventing a fight and so they can act like they all don't know what those two are up to. Little blonde babes and their studly football players sweep quickly away, their dresses and senior jackets giving them wings and every ounce of confidence they need to make the moment count.


"Where to?" Gerard asks, holding Frank's twitchy hand still and looking around as he takes another breath and lets out a nice, long huff of smoke in front of them.


"Bathroom's no fun. How about here?" Frank suggests, his thumb pointing in the obvious direction of a bedroom. The door's cracked just enough to let them know that it's vacant and it has their names on it. That's all the invitation they need before they're in there and waiting for the show to begin.


"Well?" Gerard says, annoyed that Frank's not caught on by now. He's very quick to remove his tight jacket and sneakers. The jeans take a bit more work but eventually they're off too. All that's left is a really wrinkled t-shirt and some boxer shorts.


"Hm? Oh! Yeah, yeah." Frank says happily. That little smirk dressing his lips up nicely. Those tiny teeth and that light sheen of sweat making him nothing but a fucking target for boys like Gerard. Queers with attitude; determination. In a moment, Frank's down to his skivvies. No shoes and socks to worry about, a jacket and two shirts strewn across the floor. His tight, skinny jeans are at the foot of the bed, busy being provocative in their placement and giving Gerard that extra sting in his stomach to remove his shirt and go through with this for the billionth time.


Gerard wastes no time in grabbing Frank by the sides and pulling him close. Frank is more than ready to do whatever the fuck Gerard wants so long as he calls him his for that short while and makes him feel the type of special that his daddy never could. "You gonna sh-show me a good time?" he asks, that special twinkle in his eyes making Gerard want to crash his lips hard against Frank's mouth. So he does, and that's his answer. There's no need for him to speak with an action like that. Frank knows just how badly Gerard wants him, and that's all the promise he needs.


Gerard takes his glasses off and tosses his forgotten stub in the ashtray on the side table. All that's on is the lamp, but that's more than enough light for them to see by. Gerard knows Frank's body like the back of his hand; he's his muse and his canvas. He's special and he doesn't even know it. "C'mon, Frankie. You're so fuckin' pretty, tonight. Lemme have you." Gerard begs, his arms wrapped tightly around that boy's small frame, but neither of them care. Frank nods his head, giving Gerard all the permission he needs. So what if the kid's only seventeen. Another few months and he'll be as legal as you can get. Gerard keeps that in mind as his kisses start to trail down further than Frank's face. First to his jaw and then down to the side of his throat. He latches his teeth softly against that protruding vein in Frank's neck and makes Frank shiver like it's twenty fucking degrees inside. Frank's cold skin heats up quickly with every touch Gerard offers. All this foreplay bullshit is just to humor the guy. Gerard could go without it every time and be no more less satisfied if he tried. He knows how much Frankie likes it though, and he's gotta keep his play thing happy.


"Mhmm, Gee. C'mon." Frank asks in that childish voice. That creepy tween drawl that should completely turn Gerard off, but in actuality just spurs him on farther. Gerard's quick to bring Frank down to the bed. Skin against sweaty skin, every freckle and mole on his neck and chest being licked and teased like the rest. Gerard's hands roam, first to Frank's sides and then eventually down to his thighs. He pulls from the legs of each side of the shorts until they've come down low enough for him to see the beginning of Frank's manhood. That trail of hair pops out from literally nowhere, making Gerard want to drool and kiss Frank harder all at once. A small giggle escapes his lips as he sighs happily into Gerard's filthy mouth; the two of them getting more out of this than anyone could ever imagine. Eventually, Frank lifts up and allows Gerard to undress him completely. It's no surprise; it had to happen. Gerard smirks like nothing Frank's ever seen before in this moment of exposure where nothing can be taken back and they're both too far gone in this little dance for either one to back out now. Frank tilts his head to the side, just hoping Gerard'll humor him one last time before they get down to business. Gerard sees what the kid's trying to pull on him and declines, getting to work on feeling every ridge and vein Frank has.


"Fuck, you've been practicing, yeah?" Gerard mentions, his voice muffled in the side of Frank's neck as his hands start to pump Frank into arousal and make him beg to be taken care of. Frank knows what he means, what with the way he's been squirming and panting for Gerard's enjoyment.


"You're all the practice I need, Gee. Trust me." Frank replies, that smirk not quite reaching his eyes but at this point Gerard doesn't notice. Suddenly, Gerard's sitting up and pulling down the last of his clothes, the fabric freeing the wood he's been working on for the past ten minutes. Already hard as a rock and not about to go back 'til he's gotten what he wants.


"Is that so?" Gerard asks as he firmly grabs Frank's underarms and pulls him over to the side of the bed. They're both lying vertically for now, rubbing up against one another like it's going out of fucking style.


"Yeah!..." Frank lets out a high pitched moan right as he agrees. The awkward tension in the air being slowly drained into small pools of ecstasy as the two continue re-building the same scenario they've been in for ages. Right as Frank moans, Gerard gets an evil smirk to take the place of the playful one that had been residing on his face for the last few moments. It's go time; the fluff is over.


"Well let's get to it, then."


Ten minutes later, Gerard is knuckles deep inside of Frank, just feeling it out and listening for every moan and gasp Frank has to give. A jerk here and there, Frank's hips beginning to buck, asking for more since he can't with his words. Then right as Gerard gets daring, Frank's cock twitches and his breath cuts short. Gerard found it; the game can start.


"You ready, babe?" Gerard asks, his hand already withdrawn and holding onto Frank's hip just as tightly as it could. Frank could only bear to shake his head into a small nod before his neck fell back on the pillow so he could catch his breath and brace himself. Gerard tucks a pillow tightly under Frankie's back and pulls his legs up to rest on Gerard's shoulders. He's not about to start messing around. He has to finish and get this done. This is what he needs.


So Gerard lines right up with Frank's ass, the both of them way too ready to get off. Frank's whining and pleading, the bed starts to rock as Gerard enters Frank slowly at first, but then eventually in a swift motion 'til he's stuffed to the hilt. A steady pattern is started up as Gerard tries his best to ignore those pained sobs; this is all normal for them. It's part of the process. Eventually Frank pulls himself together and gets with the program. The pleasure from their actions far too strong for him to even try and deny. Soon he's moaning with the best of them, letting Gerard know just how great he feels inside of his tight hole; just how nice it feels to be touched again. So what if he's being taken advantage of? Frank considers this kind of contact a favor. Gerard's just perfect for him in every imperfect way. They're both too fucked up for anyone else to fool with, so they bother each other. And it's satisfying.


"Oh, c'mon Gee. Go faster!" Frank begs, just as he knows Gerard wants. Gerard likes to hear that he's giving Frank what he wants. He likes to know how badly he needs his cock. Frank obliges, tells him to keep going 'til he can't anymore. He knows it's all pretend and that they'd both get off either way, but something about giving Gerard the permission to treat him like a punching bag is very appealing. Like he finally has enough control to call the shots. Sure he's still getting hurt, but at least this time he consents. At least this time he knows what's coming to him.


"Like this, Frankie?" Gerard asks, his pants starting to fill up the room and fuel Frank on further. Frank whines and begs to be treated like dirt for the sake of all things holy. Gerard gives in, pinching Frank hard on the sides and holding on tightly to his hips, leaving bruises galore and nail marks in between. It's a good night, the two think. Everything feels good for once and it's the only thing they've ever asked for. To feel good and have that feeling last for as long as it can.


Right then, a sharp gasp comes shooting out of Frank's pretty lips. Gerard's hit it again; they're almost finished. Quickly, Gerard hits that spot so hard Frank's scream could very possibly have been heard downstairs. Gerard doesn't care at the moment though. All he can think about is hitting that place inside of Frankie. Making him scream like a fucking girl until his pretty cum's all over Gerard's stomach. Until his hands are digging into the bed spread and his back is arched unbelievably high. Gerard hits it again, and again and again. All he can hear are Frank's desperate cries to be touched. He doesn't need to say it for Gerard to understand. He quickly grabs hold of Frank's length and goes to town. Feeling his hard, pulsing cock in hand and pumping up a rhythm that'll make this go by faster. Frank's in a dream world for a while. Nothing could top this feeling right now. Knowing that his needs are being tended to first and that he's about to feel one of the best things in the world. He screams again for good measure, Gerard's dick rubbing against that good place inside of him; practically never leaving it 'cause he's going so fucking fast. Then all of the suden...


"Oh! Oh fuck Gerard. Gerard!" Frank cries, his time is up and he doesn't give a damn. 'Cause to him, it was worth it. Just as those marks and hard slaps will be worth it.


Nothing's over quite yet, though. As soon as he knows there's nothing more for him to do, Gerard scoots his hands far beneath Frank's spent body and pushes up, thrusting deeply and as quickly as he can. The churning muscles of Frank's insides are almost more than he can stand. Just one more... "Uh!" and he's got it. "F-uck, oh fucking Hell!" Gerard mumbles in a husky tone. As he spills deep inside of Frankie, it's all he can do to not scratch the poor guy's skin off from how intensely he's been gripping him. Frank moans once again, this time from being too sensitive to handle Gerard's cum as it fills him up until Gerard has nothing left within him to give.


"Fuck, you're great. Such a good one, I've picked." Gerard says almost shyly as he leans in to steal a kiss from Frank's cheek. The mood is lost, but that's all right with them. They both got what they wanted and now that it's over, they're going to resume life like none of this ever happened. Like none of it ever had to happen.


But something's a little off with Frank tonight and Gerard can tell. "Hey, chin up. Something wrong?" Gerard asks as he slowly slides out of Frank and rolls over to where his chest is nearly touching Frank's. They're both on their sides, eyes meeting bravely for one of the first times tonight.


"Nah, nothing's wrong." Frank mentions, his gaze almost too content to leave those beautiful eyes. He knows he had better though, lest that stare be on his mind for the rest of the night and follow him into his dreams.


"Good. So smile, okay? Smile like a pretty boy should." Gerard says. Frank finally allows those lips to be tugged up into a genuine grin. Just knowing that Gerard thinks he's pretty is almost enough to make him smile forever. Gerard smiles right along with him before sighing and sitting up to find his discarded clothes. The first thing he needs is a cigarette, and then maybe some fresh air. Frank knows the drill, so he calmly collects his clothes and gets dressed just as fast as he can. Maybe if he doesn't cling too tightly, Gerard'll share his cig with him like old times.


So Frank smiles that pretty boy smile and pulls up his jeans 'til they're in the right place. Not a word is said, but there's plenty of noise from those loudmouths downstairs. Gerard is finished and heads for the door, pausing to hold it open for his chew toy to stride on through. The two of them walk downstairs like it hasn't been almost an hour since they first came up, and head for the porch outside.


"Frankie!" Mikey's voice calls, that thick Jersey tone latching tightly to Frank's name to remind him of where he comes from. Frank waits up as he watches Gerard leave for the yard outside.


"Yeah?" he asks, his gaze following Gerard through the screened in door.


"Was gonna ask if you two were ready to go soon. H-hey. Why you smilin' like fucking loon, huh?" Mikey asks as Frank's new expression distracts him.


"Oh, no reason." he answers, because the real reason wouldn't make sense to such a jaded mind.