FicWad

Note to Bitch Bot and her nine year old brother: your review for the last chapter made me laugh so hard Coke shot out my nose.

Just thought you should know.

-Jane

When I read fics, I usually look for:

-humor

-an original twist

-fluff

-THA MOTHAFUCKIN SMUT.

And there is a little of the first and the last in this chapter, so please enjoy. As for the second, we pretty much got that throughout the whole story. And the fluff is pretty elementary too, lads.

Title from Oasis

L.N.I.

First of the Gang to Die
Quarantuno
Force of Nature


Gerard watched happily as the boy stirred and muttered to himself as he slept, snippets of coherent canterings available every so often.

He was still in his blood stained clothing, reclining on the bed, reading The Masque of the Red Death, legs crossed and his cigar between his middle and index fingers. It was just after four in the morning, and as much as he had tried, he had been unable to sleep. The insomnia pills didn’t seem to be working, and anyway, it was much better staying awake. People in the house, all the defenders and their wives, were talking, sleeping, eating, playing cards, drinking, smoking-and Gerard could hear them all, swapping guard duties and placing bets and arguing about the paint job in the living room of Bob’s house.

He did regret this overly protective behaviour, taking his guards away from their families on such a regular, long basis, but felt it was absolutely necessary as far as caring for Frank went. He wouldn’t stand it if he was attacked again, especially since the last assault had occurred right over there in the en suite. Iero no longer used that bathroom-he instead used the one down the hall.

Gerard Way had always prided himself on doing something most Don’s didn’t do; and that was fight. When most men reached the status of capa crimini, they retired to their homes and basked in their wealth, were laden on by servants, and let their men take the fall for them. But Gerard was now seriously thinking of reinstating the lifestyle his father before him had acquired, in order to look after and care for his husband and maybe start working on meetings and coalitions and raids, as opposed to actually participating in them, just be a planner of the crimes.

He had not, of course, informed anyone of this thinking. He still adored the adrenaline rush, the endorphins released when he killed, injured, tortured, maimed-it was that amazing feeling that empowered him, made him feel fucking unstoppable, on top of the world. He didn’t think he could quite give it up cold turkey when he hadn’t even turned the wild tides of thirty years yet.

His thoughts were interrupted by quiet whimpering on his other side. Frank was talking in his sleep, and had been for a little while-mostly it was just gibberish, incomprehensible muttering. But now he was forming proper words, as if he were actually talking to someone.

“Oh...James...please...”

Gerard felt slightly put out that his husband was moaning over his previous-not to mention abusive as fuck-fiancée...or so he thought.

“Please stop,” he mewled quietly, hand thrown across his midriff, hips twitching. “Oh no, James, I don’t wanna, please don’t make me-“

Gerard was about to wake him up when he stopped, relaxed back into the bed and continued to snooze cutely, purring softly like a cat, much to the delight of the man next to him. His chest rose and fell with the rhythm of his steady breathing. Way began to feel at ease until it started again.

“I promise I didn’t flirt with him, James,” he affirmed, voice getting higher and closer to tears. “I promise, we were just talking-“

The gangster realized he was referring to the Sunday when they first met, at the horse race, and the certain ‘him’ that Frank had not been flirting with-and he hadn’t-was none other Gerard.

“But I wasn’t,” he continued to plead, brown knitting together and pouting in a submissive, meek manner, “and I don’t wanna do it, please, James, that hurts, you’re hurting me-“

“Baby,” Gerard said quickly, not wanting to hear anymore, jiggling his lover’s arm. “Sweetheart, wake up, you were having a nightmare, sugar, please wake up.”

Frank yawned and his eyes cracked open, peering suspiciously at the gangster before shuddering and coming to his senses.

“Gee?” He smiled weakly and hugged him around the neck. “You’re back!”

“Yeah, I’m back,” he replied, his arms swathing around the smaller’s back, pressing his hands into the sensitive spots of his side, making the boy sigh shakily, “you were sleeping when I came in and I didn’t want to wake you, but you were just...ah...talking in your sleep.”

“Oh,” he replied, unsure as to how to tackle the situation. “I’m sorry.”

You’d seriously think the Universal Channel would get the goddamn message by now. I’m starting to wonder if they kidnapped Reid and killed him just so they could see me die inside.

Well, it hasn’t worked. *Shouts randomly into the sky* YOU HEAR THAT, UNIVERSAL? NO SURRENDERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

Sorry sorry

“It’s fine, sugar, you don’t have to apologize,” the older tried to laugh to break the tension, but it came out a very nervous chuckle, “I don’t mind.”

But he did mind, somewhere, in the back of his conscience, he really did care that Frank had said those things. It had actually disturbed him, the fact that he had heard the boy’s small pleads and begging for help, made him feel guilty and shameful for not saving him sooner, not getting to him in time. He wished with all his might he had found Iero when he was twenty one (and thus the boy would be sixteen) and that they might have just gotten together then instead, not have both been hurt by ex-lovers.

“What did I...um...say?” He nibbled on his lip nervously as he asked.

“You talked about James, honey, “Gerard said softly, watching as his rabbit’s face crumpled up when he said the name. “You said you didn’t want to do it and that he was hurting you.”

He looked like he was going to break, his whole body trembling slightly, his eyes doleful and wet. Way felt badly for waking him up at all, let alone telling him that he had been referencing that certain someone. Watching the boy snuffle and begin to cry quietly made his stomach twist and churn with regret.

“Oh baby, I’m sorry,” Gerard cooed, hugging him tightly and kissing his cheek, “I didn’t mean to upset you. Forgive me, please, bunny rabbit, I hate seeing you cry.”

“He used hold me down until I’d do what he wanted,” he whimpered, feeling the shoulder of the stronger’s shirt warm and damp, “and he’d flick his lighter against me.”

The boss squeezed his eyes hut and clutched the boy tighter, like he’d never let go, his nails digging into the bare back of his abused lover, the poor subject upon which James Romano would inflict the most brutal pain. He couldn’t really think of anything to say.

“Sugar pop, I really am so sorry. I hate that man more than anything on this planet,” he spat truthfully, “and I wish I had kept him alive longer so I could kill him in worse ways.”

Iero nodded and withdrew from Gerard’s shoulder, breathing deeply and wiping his face with the back of his arm. The gangster offered him a silk handkerchief.

“Thanks,” Frank said thickly, getting up to dress himself in a plain shirt and pants. “Where were you?”

“Well,” Gerard started, leaning up against the bed posts and sliding his arm around the boy’s shoulders when he returned. “I was actually killing a group of youths just now.”

Haha I was just thinking about the “youths” scene from My Cousin Vinny

Okay sorry I gotta stop this shit seriously

“Kids?” Iero squeaked, tensing up but then being relieved by kisses pressed all over his hair. “You killed...children?”

“No. I killed teenagers.” He closed his eyes and buried his face in the brunette locks, inhaling the sweet scent wafting from the boy. “Teenage rapists.”

He felt Frank shudder and shake for a second and then composed himself. He still hated hearing that word.

“And the leader I just carved G A W into his arm, he should be fine,” Gerard muttered non-committedly, waving a hand. “If he died from blood loss then that’s a damn shame.”

“G A W?” Frank pondered ignorantly, playing with his husband’s mangled, deformed hands that were lying in his lap. “What does the A stand for?”

“My middle name, obviously.” He snorted, pretending to be disgusted. “Hardly going to be my maiden name or something, Frank.”

“Really?” He turned to him excitedly and kneeled up in the bed. “What’s your middle name?”

“I am not telling you that.”

His face fell. “Why not?”

“It’s an awful name.” He scowled. “I don’t know why I got the worst name in the world.”

For the record one of my middle names means “Steve” in Irish. Thanks for that mom and dad

“I think Gerard’s a lovely name,” Frank said, smiling widely.

Okay, this is harsh, I’m not gonna tell the guy how to say his own damn name or anything but am I the only person in the entire freaking world that says “Ger-erd” instead of “Ger-ARD”? I said that to an MCR fan outside the gig I went to and she was like “oh no that’s a different name that’s Jared”

And I was like “yes but I have met many other people called Gerard and they pronounce it like me I’m not mentally retarded or something”

And she was from the US and was like “oh that’s probably just an Irish thing”

And I was like “what bening mentally retarded?”

And she was like “no the pronunciation thing”

And I was like “this is NI bitch so technically it ain’t Ireland”

And she was like “its a British thing so”

And I was like “this isn’t the UK either”

And she was like “yes it is”

And I was like “oh yeah tell the IRA that”

And basically we had a huge bitch fight over how you pronounce his name. I know everyone-including him-says it as if it rhymes with “bar” but I say it like it rhymes with “bird”

Or maybe thats just my weird Norn Iron accent and I should just stfu


“Not that name, my middle name. It’s just...horrendous. I don’t know what made my parents pick it,” he said, sighing, pulling the boy into his lap and slumping down further. “Once Michael told someone what it was and I punched him.”

“How old were you?” He was nearly giggling-but it also seemed a very tame attack by Gerard,just punching someone.

“Like eight or something.”

Of course. The current Way would never do that, but the child one would. Great.

“Pleeeeease tell me,” Iero whined, tugging at the belt of his lover, without even trying to be sexual, “we’re married.”

“You haven’t told me your middle name.”

“It’s Anthony,” he admitted freely, still grinning. “After my mom’s dad.”

“I see,” Gerard raised an eyebrow. “What is Frank after?”

“My dad.”

“Was he some man of great feat and stature?”

“Dunno.” Frank shrugged. “Never met him.”

“Oh,” the older said in a hushed tone, “I’m sorry. You must think I’m very insensitive.”

“No I don’t,” the shorter replied lightly, not bothered by the conversation. “I don’t mind at all. I don’t really care. You can ask me as much as you like.”He smiled again. “Now will you tell me your middle name?”

Gerard bit back on his teeth and grimaced.

“Arthur.”

The minute he said it Frank nearly broke a rib for the thirteenth time from laughing. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he clutched his stomach from hysterics, the effort making him fall off the bed, squealing and trilling happily as he cavorted. Way simply rolled his eyes and wore a smile he couldn’t refuse.

“It’s not that funny,” he pointed out, helping Frank off the floor, “it is just a name.”

“I know but...you’re so badass and gangsterish...and then...ARTHUR!” He shrieked, falling off the side again, sobbing with the laughter. “Oh my God Gerard-“

“Yes, yes, my second name is goddamned hilarious, we get it,” he said, trying to stifle his own laughs as he pulled him back up for the second time. “And if you fall off again I will not help you up.”

Frank let out one last giggle and then returned to sitting on the other, grinning crookedly.

“Happy now?”

“Very,” he replied, pressing their lips together for a short time, not even moving but just sitting there, his mouth latched onto Gerard’s. He pulled away by about an inch, still lips-to-forehead with the other. “You know the way you said you’d make it up me earlier?”

“Offer’s still there,” Gerard purred, voice laced with lust. “Unless my middle name turns you off to such an extreme you don’t want to kiss me.”

“Of course not,” Frank replied as he meshed their mouths together again softly, the younger working his lips in due process, when he realized nothing was happening on the other end.

“Why aren’t you doing anything?”

“I want to see what you’re going to do to me,” Gerard smirked, showing all of his teeth. “Seeing as how I always ignite the passion, you can start tonight. Or this morning, actually.”

“Do...to you?” He squeaked, a little nervous. Not worries, exactly, but...definitely nervous. “Like...being-“ he gulped-“dominant?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, tracing the boy’s bare thigh, “there a problem with that, sugar?”

“What do you want me to do?” He asked, getting more nervous as he learned more. In the past he had satisfied men from every rank of Mafia standard, and was just the best lover someone could ask for-but he actually wanted to please Gerard, show him that he was exclusively his. He never had to think about getting intimate with somebody before.

“I don’t mind at all, honey.” He could see Iero getting tense-he decided to comfort him, make him a little deal. “I’ll take over if you want, but first I just want you to do something to me. I’m always the one attacking you,” he said with a laugh.

Frank bit on his lip, thinking.

“I can do...whatever I want?”

“Within reason. If you’re gonna blow my dick off or something, then please refrain.”

The boy nodded and thought for a moment, planning his assault mission. Over the years he had been made look as seductive and innocent as possible, to catch the attention of the other man, make his breathing come in short, sharp rasps, make him sweat just by looking at Iero. He perfected this letting his jaw fall so that his mouth was slightly open, looking to Gerard meekly through wide, hazel eyes, letting his vision search and trip over the older man, absorbing his entire being. Then he clambered onto his hips and kissed him passionately and yet softly-as if he were paying him back, a one sided return of a favour. He knotted his fingers in the raven hair and opened his mouth wider, kisses becoming more heated and wet, Frank occasionally biting down on the other man’s lip, sucking on it like an alcoholic might to a sacred drink. Gerard groaned and squeezed his eyes shut as his lover began to slowly grind their hips together, the gangster’s trousers becoming tight and uncomfortable.

“Ugh, Frank,” he moaned, fingers dug into the boy’s side, “oh God...”

Iero pulled back and regarded his husband for a second time, the lips red and rash, the shirt wrinkled and creased. Way himself was puffing already, and the bulge in his trousers spoke for him as a whole.

“Mmm, Gee,” Frank moaned, trailing one finger down the black shirt the other was wearing, letting each button open until he reached the middle, “I’m getting so hot, you’re making me get so warm.” It was true-Gerard wasn’t the only one getting a little aroused. “Would you do something for me?”

Way nodded.

“My pants are getting so tight,” the boy continued, arching his spine so that he leaned backward, neck and collarbone dripping with beads of sweat. “And this shirt is so uncomfortable.” He raised his eyes and bit down on his full, plump pout. “Would you take them off for me?”

Gerard hadn’t been expecting this-this stunning amount of sexiness that he could hardly handle, this erotic display before him, some magnificent piece of art only he was allowed to see. He could barely breathe.

When he didn’t do it straight away, the boy pushed his bottom lip out and his eyes glistened and sparkled.

“Don’t you want me?” He asked, his voice a soft murmur. “Don’t you want me like I want you?”

“Do you want me?” Gerard growled evenly, getting into the dirty talk, no matter how embarrassing it was. It felt good. “How badly do you want me?”

“Mmmph, so bad,” he returned, biting down on his lip hard enough to drawblood. “You make me want to do really bad things-“

I really am sorry but I just burst out laughing because there’s this Shane Dawson vid called “Hot and Dangerous” and he’s like “you make me wanna do bad things...like go to church...or Walmart”

And I JUST DIED

Returning to the smut

Frank popped the button of his trousers and pulled the zip down before shuffling his legs so that they ended up around his knees as he knelt. Then he slowly, oh so goddamn slowly, slid his hand into his boxers and lightly gripped his own length, tilting his hips up.

“Oh, Gerard,” he mewled, squeezing his cock, pre cum leaking everywhere, “I want you to be inside me, Gee, I need you..”He milked himself, feeling utterly stupid, but strangely victorious at the same time. He clasped a little harder, making him come everywhere, and his whole body to shake, a loud moan erupting from his throat. He rode out his orgasm by thrusting his hips twice and then pulling his hand from his pants.

He held up his hand, covered in warm, thick spunk, to Gerard, who was transfixed with him, mouth gaping.

“Do you wanna suck my fingers?” He asked ever so sweetly and innocently, wearing that cute little beam he always wore.

Without saying a word, the older man took his hand and deep throated all of his finger’s, swallowing all the semen Frank could offer to him, the salty taste residing in the back of his mouth, before letting the boy have his hand back. Gerard passed his tongue over his bottom lip to catch anything that may have dribbled down.

“Well?” Frank asked happily, bouncing up and down, beaming. “How did I do? Did you like it? Was I good?”

But Gerard could only sit and stare in awe at the boy. He’d just had one of the best, most interesting half hour of his life.