FicWad

Gerard's fiancée pulled up outside the tattoo shop, clambering out of her car and slamming the door shut hurriedly in the heavy rain. She dashed over to the door, stumbling slightly on her shiny heels, and pushed her body against the door.
It didn't open.
Frowning, she pushed with her hands, only to look up and see the big black 'Sorry, we're closed' sign hanging tauntingly in the window: it had a rough drawing of someone sticking their middle finger up, and she sighed disgustedly, moving to look through the window. She peered through gaps in between the posters plastered and could see the still, silent shop empty, waiting.
Gerard wasn't there – it was five o'clock, where was he?! Had he taken the bus home? No, he knew she was coming to pick him up...
And then she remembered how he'd said that on Fridays he finished early, that he leaves at 2, that last time he'd gone out and got drunk. That this time, she wouldn't let that happen.
With a huff she stormed down the road, zipping her coat up with a stony look on her rain-covered face and started to think about where Gerard could be. There were so many coffee shops, but he knew he favoured Starbucks over them all – she decided just to check whatever she saw. He could be anywhere, with anyone...
With Frank.

-

Earlier that day, Gerard and Frank were giggling almost hysterically as Frank struggled to lock the door to the tattoo parlour. They were standing in the rain again and Gerard didn't like it – Frank, it's ruining my hair – about to go out for coffee, for a drink, whatever. The lines were very thin and although Gerard had vowed to himself that he wasn't going to let this happen, the pure joy he'd experienced at having Frank simply acknowledge his presence had made him pretty much high on optimism. Therefore, his common sense was pretty disfunctional: he'd forgotten about his fiancée coming to pick him up, forgotten that he wasn't supposed to be friends with Frank, forgotten that he wasn't going to drink and that Frank was an asshole. So there he was – after they'd managed to lock the door – wandering down the street smiling, with Frank by his side.
“Where'dyou wanna go?” Frank asked, an odd kind of spring in his step.
“Um, anywhere. I don't mind.” Gerard was useless at making decisions of this kind – like, seriously useless. If it didn't really matter where they went but if it was up to him to decide, he'd never be able to.
“Well, you wanna go where we went last time then?”
Gerard paused, suddenly slightly worried. Was the same thing going to happen, like last Friday? Would he let himself get drunk, only to appear to a fuming fiancée – except this time, she wouldn't be as lenient about it?
And the answer came to him – he didn't care.
He shuddered before nodding determinedly, convincing himself. “Yeah, whatever.”
Minutes later they arrived at the bar again – like before, once you were inside it was impossible to tell whether it was dark or light outside, and heavy smoke filled the air. Upon seeing that the table they'd previously occupied was empty, they both grinned and sidled up to the bar to order before walking over to the table. This time, Gerard knew where to sit: right next to Frank, and eventually on him. That was his crafty-as-fuck plan.
As they sat down with their coffees – Gerard didn't want to get drunk, and Frank said he wouldn't do it alone – the hours flew past, and they hardly noticed. “Tell me about yourself then, Gee.” Frank would say, a glimmer in his wide eyes.
“You know about me.” Gerard replied, playing with his own fingers and smiling. They talked about music, films, hot girls – and hot guys, for that matter – with Frank saying some pretty obnoxious stuff. 'Anyone with half a brain and a cock, I'll screw.' To this, Gerard raised his eyebrows and replied, “do I qualify?”, shocking even himself with his sudden flirting skills and fearlessness.
“Oh baby, you over-qualify.” he winked.
Gerard screwed up his face, confused. “So I guess that means I have a whole brain, but like...two cocks?”
They both giggled, and Frank raised his eyebrows suggestively. “Two cocks? That's fucking kinky.” he smirked at Gerard, a kind of interest present in his seemingly flawless face, and then pulled himself on to his lap, grinning.
“Much more comfortable.” Gerard said.
“I'm just trying to see if you really do have two cocks without making it too obvious to everyone els-”
Frank stopped as Gerard's face contorted into a glare, a panicked glare. He stared past Frank's shoulder and Frank swivelled his head immediately, to see the rapidly reddening face of Gerard's girlfriend.
“Fuck.” he sighed, being pushed off Gerard's lap and back into his seat. As Gerard stood up his fiancée turned on her pointed heel and stormed out of the room, back into the pouring rain. Gerard shoved past the grim-faced Frank and ran out after her – to his own surprise he still cared about the rain messing up his hair and he ran out with his hands covering his head frantically, almost tripping in the half-dark.
“No – wait-” he called, willing her to slow down. But she just carried on walking quickly ahead with almost inhumane speed.
“Shit, that woman can walk fast.” Frank muttered, stepping out of the bar and running his hands through his hair. Gerard ignored him and carried on running, the rain splashing at his heels, dampening his pursuit.
“No!” his girlfriend called back. “And you can, you can...” she spun around, jaw jutted out and eyes fiery. “You can find somewhere else to stay. You're not coming back tonight.”
Gerard's eyes widened and he stopped in his tracks; he was telling himself to follow her, explain to her, leave Frank standing there in the rain, but part of him was unable to find the words and somehow didn't want to explain it to her. If she thought that he was cheating on her with Frank, well...maybe she was right.
“Fine!” he called back bitterly, a tear rolling down his face. “Like I really wanted to go back to you anyway!”
She rolled her eyes disgustedly and strolled away to the car, wrenching the door open angrily and zooming away, deliberately splashing Frank and Gerard as she went. Frank leapt back in shock but Gerard just stood there, letting it soak him through, until Frank pulled him back into the shelter of a doorway. He didn't let go of his arm once they were both sheltered, and Gerard looked helplessly at him, rubbing his eyes to hide his tears. He didn't want Frank to know how weak he was and so he turned away, leaning against the shop window with his back to Frank and let his tears fall.
He was shaking and it was probably pretty obvious what he was doing – but Frank said nothing, and his silence neither comforted nor worried Gerard. He was too preoccupied with himself; how had he let this happen again? Yet he was torn in half – part of him was crying because he was so angry that he didn't even care that his wife-to-be and just shut the door on him, or so to speak.
A pair of hands wrapped themselves around his waist and he felt Frank's warm body press up behind him, head resting on his shoulders; he sighed and let himself snuggle into the touch.
“You have nowhere to go.” Frank said quietly, matter-of-factly. Gerard just nodded and inhaled the comforting scent of cigarettes that Frank gave off.
“You can stay at mine?”
Frank half-whispered it, half didn't say it at all. Is he afraid? Gerard's heart sped up and he had to take a deep breath before answering, and even then he sounded slightly frantic.
“I can't, she'll kill me, I shouldn't...” he shut his eyes, willing his tears to stop and wanting the rain and the cold and the everything to just go away. Everything except the hands gently settled on his lower stomach, the soft hair brushing on his neck and Frank's warm breath tickling him...his lips were so close...
“Dude,” Frank bit his lip, trying to sound casual, “she won't know.”
“Besides,” Gerard added, twisting around in Frank's embrace to face him and wrapping his arms tentatively around him, “I have nowhere else to go.” He knew that he was just convincing himself; he could've gone to a hotel, or maybe his brother's, or maybe even Ray's house – but he hadn't seen them for a long time, and it would be so rude to just turn up and expect them to let him stay. Right?
“Exactly.” Frank smiled, satisfied. “Come on. No judging on my tidying skills though. I really suck.”
To Gerard's disappointment he let his arms drop and walked away, ignoring the fierce rain and expecting Gerard to follow. And he did, right behind, tears mixing with the rain and letting his fears and the thoughts that were tormenting him disappear into the ground, far, far away...
Eventually they reached Frank's flat, down an alley with street-lights flickering edgily, threatening to give up and embrace the darkness at any second. Frank unlocked the door and went in, turning the lights on quickly and kicking a few pieces of junk mail out of the way. “Come in, come in.” he grinned, both of them blinking in the sudden light. But only one of them was smiling.
They went through to the living room; there were posters of bands, movies and festivals randomly stuck around the room, as well as a kind of stained red sofa in the centre of the room and a pretty old looking dusty television. Some old black and white rerun was playing but Frank ignored it, showing Gerard majestically around the apartment.
“This is the kitchen,” he pointed to a little tiled room with a strawberry jam jar still open on the table, “this is the bathroom -” he swung open the door to reveal a tiny, cupboard sized room with a little shower- “and this is my bedroom.”
There was a double bed – fuck yes -and a bedside table, as well as a little black cupboard in the corner; it was wide open and the clothes were spilling out. Not because there were a lot, but because Frank had obviously never bothered to put them away properly.
“I like it,” Gerard smiled weakly. “It's nothing like mine, but...that's probably why. It's independent. Although...” he walked into the living room and perched on the edge of the sofa, “it wouldn't hurt to tidy it.”
“Yeah, well who wants to live somewhere tidy? Why bother? What difference does it make?”
Oh, great, here comes overly defensive and probably pretty aggressive Frank all over again, he thought.
“Nothing, it's just...easier...” he trailed off and let himself sink back into the cushions, feeling himself start to tremble slightly again, that familiar choking feeling rising in his throat as he started to fully comprehend what had happened.
“Whatever.” Gerard heard Frank kick his shoes off and head into the kitchen; he listened to the sound of the fridge opening, cups slamming onto the kitchen surface, kettles boiling and liquids pouring. Minutes later Frank came back with two coffees and he set one down on the floor next to Gerard. “No sugar, fatty.” he said before sitting down next to him and slurping at his tea.
“Oh, shut up,” Gerard didn't open his eyes but he jutted his jaw out angrily, so that Frank would get the picture. I'm not fat, am I?
“You're not fat really.” Frank said, rolling his eyes. “You're the right size.”
“You're fun-sized.” Gerard retorted, glaring at him. “Little. Miniature.”
Frank just sniggered and Gerard picked up his coffee, sipping at it nervously.
They sat, channel flicking, until it had been dark for a long time and the cars outside had quietened. Neither of them moved any closer or showed any inkling of wanting too, to both of their extreme disappointment – and surprise.
“Well it's late,” Gerard finally said, stretching and shifting around. “I'll sleep on the sofa.” He half hoped that Frank would disagree – 'no, sleep in my bed baby' – but of course, he didn't, he just nodded and stood up lazily. “I'll get you a spare duvet.”

Gerard lay there, snuggled up warmly in the oversized duvet Frank had brought him, lying solitary in the dark room and letting the horrible thoughts he'd been resisting finally creep into his bed – like they always do, in the night when you're alone.
His fiancée had kicked him out that night. Out of his own house. She had no fucking right...how long had she been standing there? Had she heard them talking? What were they even talking about anyways? Having two fucking cocks...god, that was a mindless conversation.
She wouldn't take him back, he knew it. Tomorrow he'd have to try – he didn't have work and yet neither did Frank. Couldn't he just stay here, all day? Lying on the sofa? Like the old days, when he never left the house and just watched films and read comics as the regular teenage hermit that every town rolled their eyes at, ignored. He'd never been a regular teenager though, he'd never really been able to fit in.
And now, even as an adult, he still couldn't.
A tear rolled down his cheek in a bid for freedom and so he let the others fall, burying his face in the duvet so that Frank wouldn't hear. The sobs came quietly; he'd done enough of it when he was younger to know how to cry without being noticed. Although he knew his eyes would be red and puffy and small in the morning, he just couldn't stop himself. He'd doomed his relationship and now all he had was some jackass of a guy who he'd never really be able to relate too, or have proper conversations with. Was this the best he could do? He wasn't even gay, right? But he couldn't keep hold of anyone but Frank. And even that was a vulnerable thread to hang by.
Eventually his breathing deepened and he was able to stop sobbing so desperately as he tried to ignore the prospect of the day ahead of him. There was a cough and he dragged the duvet away from his face, accidentally revealing a bit too much of his bare chest. He was sleeping in his boxers – Frank didn't own any pyjamas, the freak.
Speaking of Frank it was him who stood in the doorway, also only in his boxers. Gerard's eyes immediately travelled down to his crotch and saw that Frank was hard and fuck fuck fuck, it was a fucking massive tent he'd pitched.
Gerard squirmed from desire and dragged his eyes up to Frank's, who was looking hopeful yet disheartened at the same time. It was like the only way he knew to cheer Gerard up was like this; the only method of happiness he knew. And oh, how much Gerard wanted to do something about that problem he had.
But he shook his head and buried himself back under the duvet, starting to sob again. He heard Frank leave and eventually emerged, eyes blurred, staring at the space where he'd been and thinking. Thinking hard.
He didn't know how long it had been since Frank had stood there, but he prayed he wasn't asleep as he dragged himself up, duvet still wrapped around him protectively. Hardly even knowing what he was doing, or why, he tiptoed into Frank's room silently, tears still streaming down his face simply because he couldn't stop them. He wasn't thinking properly – the fears weren't nagging at his brain and all he could think about was Frank and Frank's boxers and what was in Frank's boxers and how much he wanted it.
“F-frank?” he whispered, stepping into his room, breath short and sharp. Frank immediately sat upright in the darkness and turned on the light by his bed; his face contorted as he was blinded by it, and he stifled a giggle at the Gerard-blanket that had appeared.
“Yeah?” he scratched at his collarbone and the blanket fell off of him, revealing his chest for Gerard's eyes to feast on...
“I couldn't sleep.” he said, shuffling around on the floor, staring at his feet and suddenly wondering what the fuck he thought he was doing there. He didn't want Frank really! And he probably looked like an idiot – so he dropped the duvet instinctively, then realising that he was almost naked. Oops.
“Me neither.” there was a silence as Frank just simply ogled Gerard's body, his face frozen; and then he smiled. “I mean, seriously, how could I possibly fall asleep with the knowledge that you were lying there, in my flat, falling asleep metres away from me, yet not with me?”
He kicked off the blanket and beckoned Gerard with his finger. He obeyed instantly and slipped into the bed, leaving his duvet abandoned on the floor.
Frank rolled over and pulled Gerard towards him, putting an arm around him almost tenderly and looking into his eyes before kissing him slowly. But Gerard pulled away, eyes wide...
“I can't, Frank, I can't concentrate...”
“No, no, you don't need to concentrate,” Frank said, looking frustrated. “That's the point. Don't think. Just let me.”
“But you just want me here so that you can use me, right? Second you're done I'm gonna be shoved back to the sofa.” he said, a sob letting itself out to his dismay.
“No, unfortunately for you,” Frank muttered, “I already helped myself out.”
Gerard frowned, not understanding.
“I already got off to the thought of you lying mostly naked on my sofa. And now I'm not hard anymore.” he explained, kind of bluntly.
“O-oh,” Gerard said, in a choked voice. His breathing had steadied and fuck, he was way too turned on to be crying...but still the tears were leaking, defying him in every way possible. Stupid body.
“I knew you wouldn't be able to stay away.” Frank whispered, and kissed him again.
This time, Gerard kissed back and he pulled him closer urgently, his hands running themselves along his chest. He was suddenly consumed by lust again, and he let a moan escape his desperate lips...
Frank pushed him down suddenly and rolled on top of him, kissing his neck hurriedly and pushing his body down against Gerard's. Either he had lied, or he'd gotten hard again fast – as their hips rubbed up against eachothers they were both there, and getting harder rapidly. Gerard pushed his hips back upwards instinctively and they were grinding against one another, faces twisted, eyes shut and breaths rising. Gerard let his fingers roam down Frank's back and Frank giggled slightly; a dark giggle followed by soft little kisses down Gerard's neck, to his collarbone, and quickly down his chest. His hands travelled down to Gerard's boxers and he moved back, kissing along his body and peeling the boxers away as he did.
“Fuck, Gerard.” he smirked as he started to stroke Gerard's hard cock, his hand forming a circle around it as he kissed the tender skin around it. Gerard's moans were much too desperate too soon but he just couldn't help himself...
“Stop it, no, stop fucking teasing me- shit!” he exclaimed, as Frank's tongue darted out and he wetted Gerard's tip, one of his hands gripping Gerard's hip as he placed his lips firmly around his cock and moaned, hard. Gerard was completely and utterly at his mercy, under his control.
Gerard pushed upwards instinctively but Frank moved with his hips, head bobbing back and forth to the sound of Gerard's wild groans.
“Fuck, Frank, Frankie,” he was saying, “so...fucking...good, baby...”
Frank dug his nails into Gerard's hips and he went even deeper, tongue dancing along the length and feeling Gerard leaking. He knew he was close before the warning even came...”so close, shit.” Frank started pumping Gerard's base quickly with his hand at the same time and sped up the pace entirely, looking up at Gerard's face as he watched his back arch and practically saw the familiar tingling warmth spread throughout him. He saw his head leaning back and his mouth drop open into a final desperate moan, almost a scream; he saw him screw his eyes up and make the goddamn sexiest orgasm face he'd ever seen.
Gerard's load shot into Frank's mouth and he swallowed, continuing until Gerard was completely done before stroking a final goodbye to his dick and crawling back up to level with Gerard.
“Happy?” he asked, kissing him, giggling because he was still panting.
Gerard didn't reply. He couldn't. Yes, that was possibly the best blowjob he'd ever received, but it didn't make him happy.
Satisfied, maybe.
He wrapped his arms around Frank, lust still engulfing him. “No,” he whispered into his ear, “I want more.”

- errrm this is a bit of a quicker update. Haven't proof read it cause I have to go to bed in two minutes but wanted to put this up here. So yeah. ENJOY. R&R! xoxo