Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > First of the Gang to Die

Protége Moi

by unitedsuck007 4 reviews

Protect me from what I want.

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: R - Genres: Drama,Erotica - Characters: Frank Iero,Gerard Way - Warnings: [X] - Published: 2011-10-12 - Updated: 2011-10-12 - 4908 words - Complete


It’s rare you get smut in the first thousand words of a chapter.

You’re welcome.

First of the Gang to Die
Protége Moi

Frank grinned as he combed out his hair that morning.

He had several reasons to be happy this eventful morn of December first. He knew that Luciana, his husband’s niece, was calling around to their home today to, as Gerard had put it, “take up residence”. Anyone else semi normal would have simply said the girl was simply living with her uncle for a respective amount of time. Iero liked this; the girl was polite, intelligent and generally just so adorable.

Another reason for his aforementioned glee was that they were now well into the Christmas season, and everyone fucking loves Christmas. The cold bite, the cheerful red noses of grumbling passerby’s, the amount of joy and happiness floating around on a daily basis. He couldn’t wait to spend the festival with his husband, and also couldn’t wait for the fact that the pair would be leaving for the capital of England in nine days time.

He brushed his hair out and beamed as he looked himself over in the mirror. He was wearing tight, almost sprayed-on trousers since it was just the pair of them alone in the house, until Luciana would arrive. He knew better than to be sexualized and rude around her-it would be just plain creepy as well as frowned upon by none other than Don de la Via himself.

Frank peered in the mirror again. He flicked open the top two buttons of his shirt-despite it being fucking freezing-so that the flawless white skin underneath was showed off. He grabbed a waistcoat from the closet and made it as tight as it would withstand, so that the material clung to him. He looked in the glass once more, deemed his appearance satisfactory, and left for the stairs, elongating each step, the Converse trainers squeaking on the wooden steps.

Once he reached the large chamber door of the kitchen, he gave the wood a little push and Gerard was thrown into his view. Among other things of course, but it’s hard to focus on kitchen utencils when Gerard Way is sitting at your table.

He was reading what Frank presumed to be the paper, with empty plates stacked up neatly next to him. A cigarette was in between his fingers, the boy noticed; he knew it. He wasn’t angry at all-it was clear that it would be torture for the gangster to give up nicotine cold turkey. Gerard looked up once the door creaked.

“Well, good morning,” he murmured, raising his eyebrows. The younger smirked devilishly and sashayed over, placing himself in the lap of the other. The criminal’s tanned arms automatically wound around him and Way trailed kisses in the chocolate tufts. “God, what’d I do to deserve this, Frankie?”

“Just wanted to look nice,” the other replied quietly, and turned around to press their lips together, tugging at Gerard’s bottom one. Don de la Via’s hands slipped down to spread the boy’s legs, pleasantly surprised when no nervous squeaking or meek pleading emitted the others mouth. His hand pushed his legs apart, and then slid up to rub the skin of his inner thighs. Frank assisted by opening his legs totally and grinding against his husband’s hips. Gerard groaned and bit down on his neck. “My husband’s been so good to me the past couple of weeks, and I’ve been such a bitch.” He let his hand rest on the neck of the Don.

“He’s constantly gone all the time,” Gerard breathed back in his ear. “He treats you well to compensate for his mistakes.” The twenty nine year old suckled at his jaw, and Frank mewled softly, digging claws into Way’s knees. “But nonetheless he will accept this.”

By now, both men were so far gone that the boy could feel his lover growing hard steadily and the constriction o f the ridiculously tight trousers against his own erection was unbearable.

“Oh...Gee, babe...” he sighed and moaned quietly, rocking his hips. “Oh God...”

Gerard continued to suck at his neck, the boy growing more and more restless as he relaxed into the other, groaning, brow furrowing as he panted and gasped at the tender kisses and caresses being bestowed upon him. He didn’t know how he was able to do this; he had woken up with the mindset of having sex and goddammit, he was gonna have it. The moment he and Gerard began to tease and taste one another, his dreading fear had melted away, taken over by desire and hopeless want.

“I wanna do it, Gee,” he whispered, tugging at the black locks behind him. “Take me, Gerard, I wanna do it.”

“You sure, baby?” The other man asked huskily, nearly a growl. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“O-oh,” he gasped as Gerard cupped his swollen package lightly. “Please, Gee. I wanna do it, I want you so badly. Wanna be yours, all yours,” his eyes fluttered shut as his lover began rubbing and squeezing him until he was fully erect and panting. “Mmm, please, Gee, please.”

“Right now?” He purred, and Frank nodded vigorgously. “In the kitchen?”

“Gee,” he whined, desperate. “I’m so hard for you, Gerard, I want you to be inside me, I wanna suck you off.” The weaker gasped again and writhed. “Fuck me, Gee, please, I want you...”

“Fuck,” he cussed, growling. “Fuck, baby, when you talk like that...ugh God...”

It seemed Way’s skills went beyond art, articulation and killing-he ripped open the buttons of Frank’s waistcoat and pulled off his shirt, then popping open the button of his trousers, boxers clinging to him. It was then that it struck the gangster as to how he was dealing with a rape victim, how his baby had gone through so much pain and suffering...this massive step should be gentle. Loving.

Gerard stripped his boy down to his boxers, and did the same to himself. He then pulled Frank back into his lap and stroked his hair, cooing in his ear. The twenty four year old moaned and squirmed in his arms, only for him to calm once Gerard spoke.

“You tell me if I hurt you or do something you don’t like,” he instructed carefully. “I wanna have you, baby, I wanna be inside you, you’re so tight...and I wanna suck that lip piercing off, sugar...but I would fucking kill myself if I hurt you like that, bunny, you know that. You understand?”

“Uh huh,” he heaved, and he breathed a shaky sigh of relief when his boxers finally came down.

He felt wetness at his entrance, and shut his eyes for the oncoming euphoria. However, the pleasure soon to turned to blunt pain when he found that instead of being penetrated, Gerard was knocking against him, teasing and taunting him. He felt that Way tried to fit inside him, but alas the...ahem...’key would not fit’.

“Gee!” The rabbit cried out in tender pain. “Oh, Gee, you’re hurting me!” The criminal stopped immediately and wrapped his arms around the boy’s middle, peppering his shoulders with kisses. Frank had to admit-the guy’s talent obviously wasn’t just in the torture chambers. “You’re too big, Gee.”

“Baby, honey, sugar, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, and the other nodded to indicate he was fine. “You’re so tight, babe, we’re gonna have to stretch you a little, okay?”

“S-stretch me?” He asked fearfully, a little frightened. “What do you mean, Gee?”

“Open your little mouth, darling,” he purred, and the tone was so ravishing that the boy complied without a second’s thought. Gerard placed two fingers onto the pad of his tongue and gathered saliva; when he was done, he nudged the boy’s jaw to allow him to close. Then a wet chaffing told Frank the gangster had rubbed his hands together and spat in his palms to add to Iero’s. “This might feel a little weird, okay? But then I’ll make you feel good, baby.”

“Ohhh...Gee...” it was painful for him to even wait. “Please,” he mewled. “Please, Gee, fuck me now.”

The gangster complied by stretching out his sticky fingers and then wedging them into Frank’s tight entrance. The boy in his lap was puffing and gasping, weak from lust. Gerard scissored and worked his digits into the boy, digging in past the tight band of muscle and spreading his husband’s cheeks until his anus was visibly clear to the convict, and Gerard poised himself at the ready. That sweet, milky, fresh flesh was about to be his, all his and no one else’s. He had waited for what seemed like an age for access to the gorgeous boy he was married to, and now was the time to do it. Albeit, he would prefer a bed to a kitchen table, but beggars can’t be choosers. He took a firm grasp of Iero’s hips and thrust forward.

Frank screeched when he was penetrated-he was overcome with sexual pleasure, eyes rolling into the back of his head and shivering all over. When Gerard held him up, the boy nearly bouncing on him, he moaned so loudly that the nearby plates shook.

The boss shoved all things from the table with a swipe of his arm and pushed his lover onto it, thrusting into him as Frank groaned and gasped, body contorting in numerous positions to accommodate Gerard. His speech was comprised of broken yet totally sincere stammers of devotion.

“Gerard,” he mewled, one cheek slapped against the kitchen table as the other man continued to push. “I love-love you so muh-UCH!” He inhaled sharply as he came, and suddenly a hand with no finger snaked around his waist and pushed Frank back onto him, so that their bodies locked into one another.

“Bunny,” he purred in his ear, the tone not harsh but relaxing and determined. “God, you’re so fuckin perfect, every fuckin inch of you...” he slammed into Frank’s prostate; the boy squealed and howled his name. “You’re mine, baby, every single part of you belongs to Gerard fuckin Way, ain’t fuck no one who can do anything to you ‘cept me. Ugh-FUCK!” He slammed again, and his boy cried out, spent. “Aw, fuck, babe, call my name, I wanna hear you make pretty noises for your husband.”

“GERARD!” He hollered. Said husband’s hips began to revolve less vigorously, and eventually stopped. Iero leaned back into him, the twenty nine year old still inside Frank, and brushed his fingertips along the arch of the Don’s collarbone. “Gee,” he breathed weakly. “My Gee.”

They rested together for a moment, panting deeply. Frank turned around in his lap, their naked, slicked bodies sticking together, and kissed the boss shyly on the nose.

“Thank you,” he murmured, and the other nodded, one eye sliding shut. Frank absent mindedly began to trail one finger along Gerard’s biceps and triceps, little mouth opening a fraction as his large amber glasses drank in the older man. Gerard couldn’t help but lean across and bite those delicious, soft lips, the rabbit letting out a shocked gasp as Way sucked his tongue. The boss decided to cease the molesting and sank back in his seat.

“Mmm, thank you so much, Don de la Via,” Frank purred, snuggling against his chest. “So good.”

Gerard reached across, hands planted lightly on either side of his husband’s head, and kissed him on both cheeks. Frank had seen him do this before-when he was greeting people in other Italian gangs. The boy giggled.

“Speak in Italian for me,” he requested softly, teasing one nipple. “Please.”

“Oh mio tesoro,” he breathed. “Il mio Dio, ti amo cosi tanto cazzo. Il mio congilio bella.”

Frank grinned again and was about to settle back down, completely naked, in his kitchen, when the doorbell rang. The celery green and the chocolate brown met in a dawn of the horror.

“That...that’s not Luciana, right?” Frank asked. He looked slowly around himself. They were both damp, oozed and slick with sweat and come, and he had turned a dull pink that would surely last for hours. Their clothes lay in a crumbled heap on the floor. They were also naked, did I mention that? “Because...we can’t...she can’t...”

“What time is it?” Gerard asked quietly. Frank showed him his watch; mid-day. “Oh. Fuck.”

“That’s her?”

He nodded. Frank squeaked and fell with a thump to the ground-time for the military stance to kick in.

“Right! Gerard-you get cleaned up upstairs, you’ve got...let’s just say you ain’t got toothpaste on your face. And your neck. And your legs...” He frowned and bit his lip, only for the doorbell to chime again. “ALRIGHT! Gee-you go up and get cleaned, just gimme my-oh shit!” He gasped girlishly at the choice of clothes. “Fuck, they’re so tight, Gee, I can’t-“

“Babe, all due respect, you don’t have semen on your face,” Gerard said, pulling up his boxer shorts and grabbing his stick. “You get the door, okay? Anyway-that fucker’ll be lucky seeing you in them, I got hard fuckin lookin at’cha.”

He tapped out of the kitchen while Frank pulled on his clothes quick as lightning. Leg in one hole, other leg in the other hole, oh fuck it Frank it doesn’t matter if the buttons and holes don’t match! He noticed with slight interest a thick white stain was on the collar of his white shirt.

Nonetheless, on the fourth and what sounded to be like the last ring, Frank raced to the door.

It wasn’t Luciana-it was a nun.

A nun who glared disapprovingly at the boy before her, hot and flushed and badly dressed, hair sticky and ruffled. Her black habit swept the ground, and a reddish-brown cross lay down her chest. She looked about fifty. She raised an eyebrow.

“I have been standing here for three full minutes. You were in there the whole time and you ignored me.”

“Oh, no,” Frank said quickly, hoping the pout and the lisp he used to seduce Gerard was gone. “I just...I”

“Cooking?” She peered at him.

“I’m vegetarian, y’see.”

“And how does this affect your-“ she shook her head, seeing no point to argue any further. “Never mind. I am Sister Marion, a friend of the late Donald Way, may the Lord rest his soul.” She bowed her head; Frank simply stood there, fidgeting. “Where is Don de la Via?”

“Present,” Gerard murmured from behind Frank, who very nearly suffered from cardio arrest. “Good day, Sister.”

His hand slipped into his husband’s as they stood at the door. Frank couldn’t help but stare at Gerard’s neat hair, his perfect make-up, the pressed shirt. His mouth fell open a little, and Gerard’s thin lips curled at the sides.

“Don de la Via,” the nun stammered, staring at the pair. “Your hand.” She was shaking her head, hand pressed over her mouth. “Your father never told me.”

Gerard’s jaw tightened at the mention of his deceased parent. Frank leaned against his shoulder as the gangster glanced at his hand.

“What? My father didn’t tell you I’m missing a finger?”

“What your hand is holding, Don de la Via!” She snapped suddenly, upstarting. “Your father did not tell me you are homosexual! Born and bred of sin and filth-

Nothing like getting the ol Catholics involved

Luciana came out from behind her, a meek little thing in a skirt and blouse. Frank noticed with surprised, impressed satisfaction the girl was wearing Chuck Taylor’s.

“Zio!” She trilled happily, running over to hug his shins. She glanced up again, her light brown eyes searching both men. “Franco!”

“Hello darling,” Gerard cooed, picking her up in his muscular grip and kissing her forehead. “How are you, baby girl?”

“Really good,” she replied, nodding-her hair had darkened, Frank noticed, quite considerably. Her hair the previous month had been mouse and now it was as jet black as Gerard’s. Strange. “I missed you.” She waved at Frank over her uncle’s shoulder and gestured to meet him. “Ciao!”

He waved back excitedly, all the while the woman of God glaring at them. Her rant about Gerard’s hand and sin had gone unnoticed.

“This is not a suitable home for a child,” she huffed, pointing her finger. “This is a place of SIN AND SODOMY!”

“Keep it down, will ya?” Gerard said, grimacing. He turned to Luciana and kissed her button nose. “Honey, do you know who I’m married to?”

“Franco,” she answered, taking a tuft of the brown hair that belonged to Gerard’s husband.

“Exactly. And does it bother you that we’re married?” Over the girl’s head, he glowered at the nun. “That we’re both men?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head, ebony curls shaking to and fro. “Can I have a biscuit?”

“Sure you can,” he returned, smug. He offered her to Frank. “Babe, you mind taking her?”


“Yeah, how about that, how about that,” Gerard muttered. “Listen, just gimme her suitcases and then you can fuck off, okay, I don’t need someone blasting me about my sexuality. I am perfectly capable of looking after my niece.”

Frank carried Luciana to the kitchen and set her down on one of the high-backed chairs. She looked like a little porcelain doll in a towering throne. Gerard entered the kitchen soon after, placing three black cases down. He pulled up the creases of his trousers and sat next to her, and opposite to Frank.

“There are some things we need to talk about, sweetie,” he said, one hand on his lover’s knee, thumbing his skin through the material. “Some things we need to address.”

“Okay,” she declared faithfully. Frank was surprised again-she was smart for a six-year-old. “I’m listening.”

“The first thing is that you’re gonna be living with Frank and I for a while, okay?” His eye softened as he talked. “You’re gonna have your own room and your tutors will visit four times a week.”

“But I’ll be able to go out too, won’t I?” She looked worried; fearful almost. “I miss my friends, zio, I wanna go to the park and the movies and stuff.” The last few words were quiet and sad. “I hate being locked up in the house.”

Frank intervened.

“I’ll take you there, honey,” he offered, and she beamed. “Gerard has to work a lot-“ his husband squeezed his knee as means of appreciation for his generosity-“but I don’t so we can ‘stuff’ if you like. I have to see that new detective movie, the one with Edward Ellis.”

“'The Thin Man',” the girl retrieved the name, and Frank clicked his fingers. “I wanna-“

“May we continue?” Gerard asked, tapping his watch. “I’m very sorry, but I have to go soon and we really must chat, Luci.”

FYI, Luciana is pronounced loo-chi-anna


“The second is that my father is not around anymore,” he muttered, and Frank laced their hands together. “You know what I mean, honey, he died. He was sick for a long time and now he’s dead.” He cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “A long fucking time.”

“The third is that I hope you treat my husband with a great deal of respect, Luciana,” he said formally. “I love him a lot and he loves me. He is part of our family.” He raised an eyebrow. “What is the motto of our family?”

“Dignita e l’enore,” she rolled off effortlessly.

“Dignity and honour,” he translated, nodding. “And will you promise me that you’ll treat him with as much respect as you treat me?”

“I promise,” she swore, and leaned across to hug the twenty four year old. “I like him, zio. His hair is cool and he’s nice.”

“He’s lovely,” the gangster confirmed as he watched his lover and his niece embrace. “Now, darling, I must go. Frank will show you to your room and in turn might be nice enough to help you unpack. If he is busy do not bother him, honey, he’s very smart and he works even harder than I do.”

Frank blushed as Gerard stood up, donning his trench coat.

“Really? Are you in the Famiglia too?”

“No,” Frank laughed shakily, picking her up as they followed Gerard to say goodbye at the door. “I’m a scientist.”

“Oh my God,” she breathed, utterly impressed. “That’s awesome. What type of scientist are you? Chemistry? Physics?”

He stared at her.

“You don’ don’t go to school, do you?”

“Of course I don’t. I get tutored.”

“Oh,” he said, a little mortified. This girl was miles more intelligent than he was. “Biology, sweetie. Muscles and blood and yucky stuff like that.”

He set her down and she wandered off into the nearby common room to find her cases.

“Okay, baby, I gotta go,” Gerard said softly to Frank, tracing his jaw. “I gotta meeting with the Irish in about an hour about a raid, so I gotta go. There are no defenders here, unless you would like me to call one.”

“I think we’ll be fine, Gee.”

“Be safe, bunny,” he breathed, and kissed him on the moth-soft and loving, the best kiss Frank could receive. “If you’d help her for a little bit I’d be really grateful.”

“Of course,” Frank answered into his mouth and linking his arms behind Gerard’s head. “Be careful, Gee. Please.”

“Course I will, baby, you know I’m safety first all the way,” he muttered, gesturing to his leg, and Frank giggled. They pressed their lips together again until shrill laughter erupted behind them.

“Haha!” Luciana shrieked, pointing at Frank and Gerard. “You kissed!”

“We do it quite often, honey, we’ll do it in fronta you if you’re not careful!” He chortled himself and waved at both of them. “Goodbye.”

The door slammed and locked and Frank turned to face his niece-in-law, who was smiling politely.

“Can I see my room?” She asked, and she tugged on his hand, lacing their fingers. “I wanna see if his guns are there!”

He laughed.

“I don’t think he’s gonna give you his guns any time soon,” he joked as he lead her up the stairs-the previous night Gerard had said the girl’s room would be the third floor, the floor above theirs. “Unless you become head of the Brigata or something.”

He’d said it without thinking, and almost immediately regretted it. Nice going; she hasn’t been inside the house for five minutes and already you’ve referenced her dead mother.

“I don’t wanna be head of the Brigata,” she said reasonably. “I wanna be head of the Famiglia, the whole thing. Donna de la Via.” She beamed. “Like Gerd.”

“Can’t girls be head of that?”

“Nuh uh. Momma was head of the Brigata but Gerd was her boss.” She spoke matter-of-factly; she knew her shit. “Now he controls everything. I wanna be the first girl to be head. All my underbosses will be girls.” She scrunched up her nose. “Boys are stupid.”

Frank giggled again and pushed open the door. Inside, he saw Gerard had obviously given her the room Chris and Kat had redecorated during their stay at Chez Way. It was a glorious dwelling. Deep black and royal purple was the main theme, with a frilled double bed in the centre of the room. Swirls of both colours were splashed unto the walls, and the walk-in wardrobe made the effeminate homosexual in Frank writhe in desire.

“Oooh, it’s pretty,” Luciana remarked, struggling to climb onto the bed, when Frank helped her up. It felt strange, being responsible for someone else. Gerard always took care of Frank-the boy hardly knew what it was like, being there for someone. “I like it.”

“It is pretty,” Frank confirmed,sitting on the bed with her. He spotted a rather strangely-shaped item amongst her cases. “Is that a guitar?”

“A bass,” she corrected. “My momma and my daddy both played bass and then they showed me how to when I was quattro.” Four fingers translated enough for Frank. “It’s electric.” She grinned. “I wanna be in a band when I’m a grown up.” She shrugged. “If I don’t become Donna, an astronaut, the President or a brain surgeon.”

“What sort of band?” He asked, interested. “A jazz band?”

“No way,” she sneered, giggling. “A rock ‘n’ roll band. With a drum and a guitar and a singer and a bass. The ones in dance halls and stuff, the ones in the movies.” She bit her lip and looked at him. “Can we do something tomorrow? Please?”

“Course we can,” he replied, cuddling her close. “Where do you wanna go, sweetie? The playground?”

“No, we can’t go there, that’s in LA upper,” she stated, and Iero was shocked by the girl for about the ninth time that hour. “That where the Romano’s are.” She thought pensively. “Maybe the art gallery or the library. Would that be okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” he shrugged, easy. “Whatever you wanna do, Luci.”

They sat together, girl in his lap, her sneakers running halfway down his shin. They were in some silence before Luciana spoke.



“Can I ask you something?” She sighed a little. “But please don’t hit me if it’s rude.”

“Oh sweetie, of course not,” he said sternly, wanting her to understand. “Maybe Gerard’s daddy was mean, hon, but no hitting is allowed here, okay? Me and Gerard would never hurt you, ever.”

She raised her eyebrows.

“He’s never slapped you?”

“No, not ever. He’s absolutely wonderful, Luciana, he’s the most caring person in the world.” He sighed and breathed in her floral scent. “I know he might come across as cold or heartless but he treats me like I’m a king or something.”

She nodded.

“He was touching your leg when we were talking. And you were holding hands. And kissing.” She pursed her lips and sussed it out. “He likes you a lot.”

“Uh huh,” Frank confirmed, slipping off the bed to pick up the leather cases and plop them on the bed. “We love each other.”

“That answers my question,” she said quietly. “He’s mean to people some of the time but he’s always nice to me.”

“He loves you,” Frank explained, and the girl nodded. “Do you want me to help you unpack, sweetie?”

“I’ll do it, you have to work, zio says,” Luciana pushed herself off the bed and tried to lift the bag without much success. “I’ll do this and then I’ll make my lunch and then I have to study for my European History exam tomorrow.”

Frank raised his eyebrows.

“Honey, I’ll help you,” he offered, unzipping the cases. “You shouldn’t be making your lunch on your own, you’ll hurt yourself.”

“Papa said I have to be independent and work for my husband when I’m a lady,” she stated, nodding at him. The twenty four year old’s heart sank. “So I should start now.” She lifted a neat pile of folded black blouses, all pressed, ironed and straight and carried them to the nearby dresser. “I can cook and clean and iron and everything.”

“You don’t have to do anything here, baby girl,” he murmured, surprised to see she also had jewellery-rings and bracelets and earrings. “I’ll help you unpack and then I’ll make your lunch for you. You shouldn’t have to work for your husband when you’re older.”

“I’m not going to,” she replied lightly, Frank handing her a pair of patent pumps, which she left daintily under her bed. “When I’m Donna my husband’s gonna serve me. Boys are stupid,” she sneered again.

She unlaced her Converse and aligned them along with her boots, her pumps, her Mary Jane’s, sandals and slippers. Her blouses, dresses and skirts were all hung to in the wardrobe, clothes that must cost a bomb, silky and soft. Chanel, Armani, Dior-amazing that a six year old could possess such things.

“Your clothes are so nice,” Frank said in awe. “I wish I had clothes like you.”

“I love clothes,” she said, as if she was saying duh. “I always get Momma to shop for me on my birthday and she bought lovely things.” She sighed. “Papa said I have to wear everything to my ankles. And that I can’t wear trousers.”

“You don’t live with him anymore,” Frank reminded her softly. “You live with us now, okay?”

Luciana reached up, hugged him tightly, and smiled.
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