Sweet Seventeen Part 2
The art of makeup, the musical underground, and hotel room antics.
Like I promised, more wholesome goodness ;) In case y’all don’t know, I’ve been away for a long while and am still getting back in the swing of things. Not at all sure how I want the plot for this to work...suggestions are very, very welcome, but things will probably get a whole lot darker. I’m doing college apps (fml) and AP classes and ridiculous things that leave me with very little free time, but I love writing this, so I’ll try to keep updating regularly. Just be warned I might be cranking out a couple of one-shots in the future instead of adding to this, so now you know why xD I’ve decided I’m going to write my dissertation on fanfiction, so if you guys have thoughts on what ficwad means to you and stuff like that (especially the MCR section), I’d be grateful to hear it. Hit me up, I love hearing from you all, I love you so much and you’re the reason I came back. Enjoy!
Gerard bent over me in the steamy bathroom, perfecting my hair and makeup before the concert started. I’d woken up disheveled from the nap we’d taken in that gigantic bed, both worn out from the fantastic sex. He’d taken pity on me and dressed me in red jeans and a black t-shirt while I stood there with my arms outstretched like a mannequin, still half-asleep. Taking in the bags under my bleary eyes, he’d brought me into the bathroom to work some Hollywood magic.
His brow was furrowed in deep concentration as he traced eyeliner delicately under my lashes. He had an artist’s touch; he was making me ashamed of my blunt, calloused fingers, which lay uselessly at my sides. His cool green eyes were fixed on mine, crinkling at the corners with amusement every time I fidgeted or complained he was taking too long.
“Do you do weddings?” I asked. I could gripe about it, but let’s be honest, I was enjoying every second of this. The back of his cool hand brushed gently against my cheek, igniting a blush.
“I’m just playing,” he murmured with a rueful grin. “It isn’t every day I get to practice this kind of thing, you know.”
“Gee, you paint like Picasso. You’re always working on something; you’re the artsiest guy I know.” I rolled my eyes and took his hand, flipping it over to reveal the delicate bone of his wrist, perpetually blackened with charcoal. Little sooty marks stood out on his pale knuckles. His hand curled reflexively around mine.
“None of it’s any good,” he said dismissively, then, seeing my outraged expression, “but that’s an argument we can have some other time. Painting on a face is different, Frankie.” He used the tip of his finger to fix a slight mistake. “It changes all the time, under different lights, as time goes on. You always hear about artists working on round canvases and on walls and shit, but the best canvas is a face. Especially yours, because you're already so pretty.” He smiled wider and turned me to face the mirror. “You’re done.”
I examined myself in the foggy glass, squinting until he thought to wipe it off with his sleeve. I caught my breath. The boy before me had tousled dark hair that caught the light and soaked it up, perfectly smudged eyeliner that made his caramel-colored eyes seem even brighter, pink cheeks and pale, flawless skin. Gerard leaned into me gently until my hip bumped the sink, tucking his pointed chin into my shoulder.
“What do you think?” he asked, almost shyly. There was a trace of excitement in his eyes.
I look so good, I thought as I admired myself. It was like he’d taken all the things about me that I hated, and replaced them with something else, something of his. I had that creamy skin now, those delicate features, those purple half-circles under my eyes, everything that made him beautiful to me.
I sighed and leaned in closer to my reflection. “I wish I looked like you all the time.”
A funny look flitted over his face as his strong white arms wound their way around my waist. He bit his lip. “Trust me, kid. That’s the last thing you want.”
Gerard drove us to the festival in record time, totally disregarding red lights and stop signs. We parked on the outskirts of town, a few blocks away from the entrance, and he held my hand, whistling happily as we walked. It was early afternoon and the clouds had covered the sun, shading the crowds of people from the heat. I was so excited my heart was fluttering. I had become used to moving houses constantly, never having enough time to go to concerts or get into the music scene in any one place. As we talked, it became apparent that even though he’d only lived in Fair Haven for two years, Gerard actively followed anything remotely cool that went on in or near New Jersey.
A lot of the more obscure punk bands Gee kept an eye on were playing on the smaller stages this afternoon. He’d amassed a big collection of shitty bedroom demos and unknown first albums and listened to them whenever he had free time, he told me. I could tell he listened with the same enthusiasm and undivided attention he gave to everything else that interested him; we’d spent more than one lazy afternoon in his basement room going through old cassette tapes and hand-decorated cds, and he had a preternatural ability to predict which ones were going to get big soon. “This one, Frankie,” he’d tell me suddenly, raising his head off his arms as the first notes of a song rung out into the room. “They’re going to be huge. Listen to that distortion – it sounds just like the Stooges.” Another time he turned to me, wide-eyed. “They’re singing about the war in Iraq,” he’d said with great certainty, picking out complex meanings when all I heard was jumbled words and static. “It’s beautiful.” Whenever I picked up my own guitar, his eyes lit up like embers, and he’d listen with great intensity while I carved out whatever lick was stuck in my head. He could find more meaning in a few scattered notes or the placement of harmonics than I’d ever intended there to be. I loved him so much for it, for listening to everyone and everything without prejudice.
We lined up outside and flashed our tickets as a staff guy dressed all in black slapped wristbands on us and scribbled black Xs on the backs of our hands so we couldn’t buy alcohol.
“No fear,” Gerard laughed. “If I’m drunk at a concert, I can’t remember anything.”
“Those are the rules, man,” the security worker said boredly, missing the point as he waved us inside.
I clung to Gerard’s hand to keep us from getting separated immediately in the crowd. The big stage was visible in the distance over peoples’ heads, the lights glimmering pink and yellow even this early in the afternoon. Gee led me over to an alley between some food stands and gave me a gentle kiss on the lips. His hand traced the back of my neck until he sighed, broke free and rubbed his hips against mine.
“What’re you in the mood for?” he asked, staring intently at my face. “You hungry? Need the bathroom?”
“All my bodily functions are under control,” I replied, managing to maintain a straight face. He chewed at his lip.
“Do you...do you mind seeing some of the bands I like? I mean, if you don’t want to I’m happy to do something else—”
I stilled his lips with a finger. “Don’t be silly. I’m sure I’ll like whoever you like. You have great taste in music, Gee.”
He ducked his head and kissed me tenderly, his hot lips pouting against mine until I let him in. His tongue eagerly explored my mouth before he returned to sucking seductively on my bottom lip. I gasped as his teeth sank in just a little, and blood rushed south to my cock, which throbbed painfully for him. I traced my hands over the milky skin of his neck, longing for something dirtier. But this wasn’t the time or place. He slapped my ass playfully as I pulled away; I felt my erection twitch.
“I could take care of that for you, sugar,” he whispered, his perfect lips just brushing my ear as he cast his eyes downward. “Just say the word.”
I shook my head, a slow smile spreading over my face. “Thanks, but I’ll wait. I’m saving it all for later.”
“Good boy,” he purred, tangling a hand in my hair. “Now let’s go listen to some rock!”
We spent the afternoon screaming our lungs out as band after great band played. Gerard knew where almost everybody came from, whispering in my ear that this singer kicked his drug habit or that drummer could play just as well with his feet. From time to time, when I couldn’t see, he’d pick me up on his back and stand there patiently until whoever was in front of us moved. I listened with fascination, scribbling down any act that struck me in particular on the back of my hand. By the time it was dark, my whole arm was covered and we’d been standing there for hours, our thoughts just drifting, feeling the bass reverberate through the ground. Gerard twitched abruptly, his eyes snapping back into focus.
“People are so talented,” he sighed happily. The stage lights cast a green glow over his face. “It gives me hope, Frankie. It does my heart good.” He patted his pockets and found a stray cigarette, but paused as he was about to light it. “Do you mind?” he asked anxiously. "I need a fix."
“Not at all.” I was flattered he’d asked; his smoking didn’t really bother me, I just worried when I saw him clutching his sides whenever we had to run somewhere.
“Thanks.” He lit up and took a long, slow drag. I watched his pink lips curl around the cigarette. His cheeks hollowed out until he blew out a stream of smoke into the crisp night air.
“Don’t feel like you have to quit for me. We’re all allowed to have a couple vices, even you.”
He laughed hoarsely. “Except in my case, it’s more than a couple. What do you say, Frankie boy, to getting out of here?”
I pretended to deliberate, like I didn’t already know that I’d follow him anywhere. “The concert’s not over yet, Gee...”
He shuffled his feet. “I know. I just...wanna get you back to that nice big hotel room, and have my wicked way with you.” He grinned as I grabbed his hand and booked it for the exit.
“Mmm...Gee...” I groaned as his hips bucked against mine. He’d jumped me as soon as we got back to our room, slamming me into the wall as his lips eagerly covered my neck with kisses. I felt his cool fingers against my waist, yanking my shirt up until I tugged it over my head and tossed it across the room. My hands tangled in his soft black hair; he smelled like oranges and something musky and smoky. I squirmed and shut my eyes as he nipped gently at my throat, leaving little half-moon bruises, playing the vampire. I was sure he could hear my heart pounding at his touch. He dipped his head and sucked on my collarbone, letting out a low moan when I nudged his legs apart and pressed against him. I could feel his huge hard-on through the fabric of his jeans, hot and ready. I stripped off his shirt and let my fingers play over the flat planes of his chest, moonlight from the window spilling onto his white skin. He gasped when I tugged on his nipple, teasing it into a throbbing nub. His eyes met mine with a devious grin.
“You’re such a tease, Frankie,” he purred, cupping his hand around my hipbone. “But I can do it, too.” He ran his thumb over the red lightning bolt tattooed there, dipping tantalizingly close to the waistband of my jeans. His lips brushed against my ear as he spoke, making my cock throb almost painfully. I couldn’t catch my breath, and his glowing green eyes narrowed in triumph. He returned to kissing me, wild and passionate and just so damn sexy, parting his pink lips and surrendering to my tongue with a groan. He hooked his arms under my ass and carried me like I weighed nothing. When I opened my eyes again, we were in the bedroom. I pushed him back onto the bed and climbed on top, straddling his slim hips. He watched me grinding against him, his head thrown back and his dark hair splayed all around his face. He shifted under me so his erection was pressed against my ass.
“Oh!” I gasped, blushing because it felt so good. His body tensed again under me, muscles rippling in the soft light, and his hands shot out to steady me. His eyes were wide.
“Fuck, Frankie.” He was panting, lips dark and swollen from kissing. “That feels amazing.”
“Don’t stop,” I begged. “Please, Gee.”
He nodded and started undoing the button on my jeans. The feel of his fingertips brushing against my raw skin was almost enough to send me over the edge. I stood up and wiggled out of my pants before helping to tug his off as well. He reached up and grabbed the back of my neck, drawing me in for another round of hot, open-mouthed kisses as he rolled so he was on top. I grabbed that perfect, perky ass of his and forced his hips down on mine, refusing to leave room between our two bodies. He propped himself up on his elbows, scrutinizing me carefully.
“You really want to do this?” He asked, uncharacteristically shy.
“Hell yeah.” I planted a kiss just under his chin, as high up as I could reach. “Fuck me, baby.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” he mumbled huskily, sliding his fingers under the waistband of my boxers and pulling them down until my erection sprang free, huge and leaking precum. He looked at it hungrily as he pulled his underwear off. A jolt of gratification ran through me as I saw he was every bit as hard as I was, his cock throbbing, warm and wet where it pressed against my leg. He started pumping my shaft with one hand, moving at a slow pace that felt like delicious torture. I writhed under him, sure I’d come before we’d even done anything, but he paused a moment later to part my lips and slide two slender fingers into my mouth. I swirled my tongue obediently and he moaned in response, leaning his head back, muscles clenching under his porcelain skin. I spread my legs and wrapped them around his waist as his wet, sticky fingertips traced over my naked chest and down to my ass. He pushed the first finger into my entrance. I gasped, tensing up instinctively, and he waited a few seconds for me to adjust before slowly adding a second finger, thrusting and scizzoring. I squirmed in ecstasy, arching my back and wrapping my legs tightly around him. My blood felt white-hot, tingling under my skin. I’d never gotten so much pleasure from any of the other guys I’d been with; every vein felt electric and I clenched around his fingers inside me, loving the feeling of being filled up again. He stared at me with half-closed eyes, his mouth hanging open. “Mmm,” he breathed, bending over and trailing his lips over the sensitive skin of my neck. “You’re so tight, Frankie.” My eyelids fluttered as he sucked and nibbled gently at my throat. I was aching with need as I spat into my hand and pumped over his hard-on, lubricating it until he groaned for me to stop.
“Get inside me,” I panted, bucking my hips up for more friction. He let out a low chuckle, pulling his fingers out and lining up his massive cock. I let out a hiss of pain as he pushed past the curve of my ass, sliding in slowly so he wouldn’t hurt me. It seemed like forever until he was fully seated, his girth already sending shivers of desire up my spine. I tangled my shaking hands in his hair, desperate and needy, and he slowly started moving his hips, thrusting into me over and over, his pace quickening as he started to lose control. I could feel precum leaking from his dick and tightened my legs around him when he moaned loudly. His eyes were screwed shut in pleasure; he collapsed on top of me and wrapped his hands over my hipbones, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises. I whimpered as he started pounding harder into me, his balls pressing against my ass.
“Unhh...Frankie...” he sobbed, his voice ragged. “I’m so close, you’re so goddamn hot...”
“Faster,” I begged, only aware of the way he was almost too big to fit, filling me right to the brim, and that every time he thrust forward, fireworks went off behind my eyes. I felt all my abdominals tighten and a shudder ran through me. He could feel it too, and let out a growl of satisfaction.
“Come for me, baby,” he panted, burying himself deep in my ass. “I wanna hear you scream.”
“OH! Gee!” I yelled as my muscles clenched uncontrollably around him. I came, spurting hot cum between our two bodies as waves of intense pleasure shot through me like a million volts of electricity.
“Ohhh, Frankie, oh fuck,” he yelped, convulsing as he came explosively, arching against me. I was hungry for everything about him – the smooth curve of his back, his smell, peppermint and musk and sex, the deep, husky, orgasmic sounds he was making. His warmth filled my ass as we clung to each other in sweaty ecstasy, lying there well into the afterglow, just so exhausted and happy to be alive. He pulled out of me and lay down on his back, and I curled into his chest and wrapped my arms around him, holding him like I could keep him there forever. “I love you, Frankie baby,” he whispered.
“I love you too, Gee. Forever.”
Mmm, things are heating up ;) Hope you guys liked it! I’ve been playing “Sink Into Me” by Taking Back Sunday and “Blue Blood Blues” by The Dead Weather; they seem to fit pretty well with this chapter. I don’t think I’ll post again until some of those old chapters get nice and green and I get some quality reviews (mostly because it’ll give me time to actually write something coherent), so I’d be super grateful if you could make that happen and motivate me to keep typing away xD Let me know if you liked it, hated it, etc. – it really helps, even if it’s just two words. I love you guys so much, thanks for sticking with me! Xo b_b