Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Damned If I Do Ya (Damned If I Don't)
A/N: Here is the next chapter, as promised :D TWO CHAPTERS IN TWO DAYS. I am so good to you guys. BUT IT'S OKAY BECAUSE I LOVE YOU. OLOT. Gerard's POV, and it FINALLY gets interesting...
My cheek still stings harshly from where Jason slapped me yesterday, the bastard. I only didn’t return his pyjamas because I may have accidentally-on-purpose burned them after he dumped me.
Just thinking about that asshole makes me angry now, and my hand flicks the paintbrush too harshly and a bright, strong stroke of crimson paint streaks straight up the middle of the girl’s face in my painting.
“Shit.”
I have been working on that painting for the last four fucking lessons and I ruin it, 5 minutes before the bell goes for lunch. Fuck fuck fuck. Before I have time to rip the bloody thing up, the teacher reminds us to “bring your model here today, after school or in lunch for 10 minutes to do a quick initial sketch.” Damnit. I had forgotten about that, oh well, Mikey’ll do it.
I sit down under the oak tree with the guys and immediately commence persuading Mikey to be my model.
“Mikeeeeey?” I whine pleadingly, my eyes wide and hands clasped together in mock prayer.
“What?” he narrows his eyes at me suspiciously.
“Can you be my model for this art module thing, and come with me after school today to the art room for, like, ten minutes?” I blurt inaudibly, hoping he will just not bother to ask what I said again and agree.
“Sorry, no can do. I’m going over Tabby’s after school.” This statement is awarded a wolf-whistle from Ray and some exaggerated retching from Matt.
“Who am I supposed to get to be my model then?” I cross my arms stroppily and pout, earning a few laughs from Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-dee over there.
“Um.” pipes up a timid voice from opposite me under his bangs. “I’ll do it. If-if you like.”
Mikey, Matt and Ray shoot glances at each other, but I ignore them and find myself saying “Yes! Um… yes. That would be great, thanks Frank.”
Okay, I totally did not think this through before agreeing.
I suddenly panic, not wanting to spend the rest of lunch having to stop myself jumping Frank.
My mouth and feet have decided to act of their own accord, and I tell Frank to meet me in the art room after school while lurching towards the library, ignoring the questioning shouts of my friends behind me, to throw all my energies into some stockpiled homework.
The end of the day arrives way too soon, and I am sat alone nervously in the art room waiting for Frank to arrive, debating with myself.
You can do this. Just draw him a couple of times without trying to hump him fiercely over the desk. Simple.
“Gerard?”
“GAH!” I startle violently, shaken out of my thoughts, my flailing limbs sending art supplies everywhere.
“Sorry,” Frank mumbles quietly as he shuffles into the room, we gather up the utensils and he looks in my eyes “so, where do you want me?”
Bent naked over that desk.
Jesus Christ, you are sick.
I clear my throat loudly and gesture towards a stool in the middle of the room where the best light is for drawing portraits.
As soon as he sits down I have to stop myself gasping. The soft sunlight from all directions makes his skin glow, his lip ring glint, his jaw line creating a perfect angular shadow on his neck and he really is fucking beautiful.
Frank yawns and stretches, raising his arms over his head and making his tight t-shirt ride up to reveal small, but very real, lines etched into his skin.
Now I really do gasp out loud.
“What are those?” I ask breathily, walking over to him and looking down to where the lines on his lower stomach are.
“Um. Just some tattoos, I had contacts back in Jersey to get them underage.” he says dismissively.
“Can I see them? Properly, I mean.” The thought of him having tattoos is almost too much.
I don’t have time to register what he is doing before he slowly, torturously pulls his shirt off, and looks down at his bare chest, his cheeks tinted pink.
My hands find his skin, and he momentarily shrinks back from my touch before exhaling sharply and pressing back into my fingertips. I trace the birds that reside there, just above his jeans, in mid-flight with stars in their eyes and I have the sudden urge to draw them. The air between us is hot from our heavy breathing, the atmosphere almost tangible. I sigh in disappointment when he stands up, but I realise when he turns around that he is showing me more of his ink.
“More,” he mutters simply, pointing awkwardly at his back. Here there is a pumpkin, grinning manically with the words ‘Keep The Faith’ scribbled just below his neck. I ghost my fingers over the letters on his smooth skin, mouthing them before Frank turns again, and he looks away, almost ashamed. A strand of hair flops over his face, and for some unfathomable reason I see my own hand push it back behind his ear, as his big, intense eyes find mine again.
Fuck this.
I bump our noses together and push my lips gently against his. Sparks of pleasure shoot through my every nerve as I slide my arms around his lower back and pull him towards me, so there is no space left between our bodies. My head feels like it is going to detonate when he starts to kiss back, pressing his body to mine. Our lips crash again and again and again, frantic hands roaming, hearts beating rapidly in unison, my hands travel up his spine to entwine in his hair, and I let a small moan escape my throat. At this, Frank lets out his own shuddering moan and bites my lower lip a little, mumbling something which sounds like ‘fucking finally’ while dipping his hands below my waistband and kissing down my chin and across my jaw line.
“You have no idea,” I whisper, my voice croaky and out of breath “how long I have wanted to do that. Oh my God.” I hiss while his lips continue to go downwards. Christ, he is good.
Frank, sucking and nipping at my neck now, hums in agreement and leans up to kiss my nose.
“Then why didn‘t you?,” he smiles timidly.
“I- I was scared, and I… well, I didn‘t know if you felt-” he stops my rambling with a small kiss.
“You are so damn cute when you ramble.” he smirks at me, and my face gets impossibly hotter. “Oh shit” Frank mutters as he looks down at his watch. He creases his brow and I tip my head to the side as if to ask what is wrong, at this he nods towards the clock on the wall. He must see my disappointment because he full on beams at me and grips me in a tight hug before letting go and going to pull on his shirt and jacket.
An “oh” I didn’t mean to say out loud makes him turn to me, seeing my crestfallen expression, he says “Look, I could honestly stand here making out with you for the rest of the night, oh my god, but its late and I promised my mom I would cook tonight, I gotta get home.”
Jesus, how late is it? My eyes fix on the clock now, oh we have been here for half an hour, oops.
Well, not oops.
Time well spent, if you ask me.
He walks over to me and places his hands at the small of my back, looking up into my eyes again before pulling me towards him, placing a long, lingering kiss on my lips and I feel his smile against my own.
Then much to my dismay, he pulls away, and mutters a little “see you” while giving a little wave and slipping out of the door.
I have watched him walk out, a grin still slapped across my face, my heart still pounding joyously, and it is now I remember why we were in the art room in the first place. I was meant to draw him.
…Ah, who the fuck cares?
A/N: Err... I hope that was okay, never written anything like that before, so I would REALLY appreciate any feedback you give me :) HOPE YOU LIKED READING IT AS MUCH AS I LIKED WRITING IT HEHEH.
Right I am going to be honest and say I am not sure where to go from here, should I carry on or finish in the next few chapters? What do you guys think?
THANKYOU SO MUCH FOR READING XO
(Oh, and I have started a couple more stories woopwoop!)
My cheek still stings harshly from where Jason slapped me yesterday, the bastard. I only didn’t return his pyjamas because I may have accidentally-on-purpose burned them after he dumped me.
Just thinking about that asshole makes me angry now, and my hand flicks the paintbrush too harshly and a bright, strong stroke of crimson paint streaks straight up the middle of the girl’s face in my painting.
“Shit.”
I have been working on that painting for the last four fucking lessons and I ruin it, 5 minutes before the bell goes for lunch. Fuck fuck fuck. Before I have time to rip the bloody thing up, the teacher reminds us to “bring your model here today, after school or in lunch for 10 minutes to do a quick initial sketch.” Damnit. I had forgotten about that, oh well, Mikey’ll do it.
I sit down under the oak tree with the guys and immediately commence persuading Mikey to be my model.
“Mikeeeeey?” I whine pleadingly, my eyes wide and hands clasped together in mock prayer.
“What?” he narrows his eyes at me suspiciously.
“Can you be my model for this art module thing, and come with me after school today to the art room for, like, ten minutes?” I blurt inaudibly, hoping he will just not bother to ask what I said again and agree.
“Sorry, no can do. I’m going over Tabby’s after school.” This statement is awarded a wolf-whistle from Ray and some exaggerated retching from Matt.
“Who am I supposed to get to be my model then?” I cross my arms stroppily and pout, earning a few laughs from Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-dee over there.
“Um.” pipes up a timid voice from opposite me under his bangs. “I’ll do it. If-if you like.”
Mikey, Matt and Ray shoot glances at each other, but I ignore them and find myself saying “Yes! Um… yes. That would be great, thanks Frank.”
Okay, I totally did not think this through before agreeing.
I suddenly panic, not wanting to spend the rest of lunch having to stop myself jumping Frank.
My mouth and feet have decided to act of their own accord, and I tell Frank to meet me in the art room after school while lurching towards the library, ignoring the questioning shouts of my friends behind me, to throw all my energies into some stockpiled homework.
The end of the day arrives way too soon, and I am sat alone nervously in the art room waiting for Frank to arrive, debating with myself.
You can do this. Just draw him a couple of times without trying to hump him fiercely over the desk. Simple.
“Gerard?”
“GAH!” I startle violently, shaken out of my thoughts, my flailing limbs sending art supplies everywhere.
“Sorry,” Frank mumbles quietly as he shuffles into the room, we gather up the utensils and he looks in my eyes “so, where do you want me?”
Bent naked over that desk.
Jesus Christ, you are sick.
I clear my throat loudly and gesture towards a stool in the middle of the room where the best light is for drawing portraits.
As soon as he sits down I have to stop myself gasping. The soft sunlight from all directions makes his skin glow, his lip ring glint, his jaw line creating a perfect angular shadow on his neck and he really is fucking beautiful.
Frank yawns and stretches, raising his arms over his head and making his tight t-shirt ride up to reveal small, but very real, lines etched into his skin.
Now I really do gasp out loud.
“What are those?” I ask breathily, walking over to him and looking down to where the lines on his lower stomach are.
“Um. Just some tattoos, I had contacts back in Jersey to get them underage.” he says dismissively.
“Can I see them? Properly, I mean.” The thought of him having tattoos is almost too much.
I don’t have time to register what he is doing before he slowly, torturously pulls his shirt off, and looks down at his bare chest, his cheeks tinted pink.
My hands find his skin, and he momentarily shrinks back from my touch before exhaling sharply and pressing back into my fingertips. I trace the birds that reside there, just above his jeans, in mid-flight with stars in their eyes and I have the sudden urge to draw them. The air between us is hot from our heavy breathing, the atmosphere almost tangible. I sigh in disappointment when he stands up, but I realise when he turns around that he is showing me more of his ink.
“More,” he mutters simply, pointing awkwardly at his back. Here there is a pumpkin, grinning manically with the words ‘Keep The Faith’ scribbled just below his neck. I ghost my fingers over the letters on his smooth skin, mouthing them before Frank turns again, and he looks away, almost ashamed. A strand of hair flops over his face, and for some unfathomable reason I see my own hand push it back behind his ear, as his big, intense eyes find mine again.
Fuck this.
I bump our noses together and push my lips gently against his. Sparks of pleasure shoot through my every nerve as I slide my arms around his lower back and pull him towards me, so there is no space left between our bodies. My head feels like it is going to detonate when he starts to kiss back, pressing his body to mine. Our lips crash again and again and again, frantic hands roaming, hearts beating rapidly in unison, my hands travel up his spine to entwine in his hair, and I let a small moan escape my throat. At this, Frank lets out his own shuddering moan and bites my lower lip a little, mumbling something which sounds like ‘fucking finally’ while dipping his hands below my waistband and kissing down my chin and across my jaw line.
“You have no idea,” I whisper, my voice croaky and out of breath “how long I have wanted to do that. Oh my God.” I hiss while his lips continue to go downwards. Christ, he is good.
Frank, sucking and nipping at my neck now, hums in agreement and leans up to kiss my nose.
“Then why didn‘t you?,” he smiles timidly.
“I- I was scared, and I… well, I didn‘t know if you felt-” he stops my rambling with a small kiss.
“You are so damn cute when you ramble.” he smirks at me, and my face gets impossibly hotter. “Oh shit” Frank mutters as he looks down at his watch. He creases his brow and I tip my head to the side as if to ask what is wrong, at this he nods towards the clock on the wall. He must see my disappointment because he full on beams at me and grips me in a tight hug before letting go and going to pull on his shirt and jacket.
An “oh” I didn’t mean to say out loud makes him turn to me, seeing my crestfallen expression, he says “Look, I could honestly stand here making out with you for the rest of the night, oh my god, but its late and I promised my mom I would cook tonight, I gotta get home.”
Jesus, how late is it? My eyes fix on the clock now, oh we have been here for half an hour, oops.
Well, not oops.
Time well spent, if you ask me.
He walks over to me and places his hands at the small of my back, looking up into my eyes again before pulling me towards him, placing a long, lingering kiss on my lips and I feel his smile against my own.
Then much to my dismay, he pulls away, and mutters a little “see you” while giving a little wave and slipping out of the door.
I have watched him walk out, a grin still slapped across my face, my heart still pounding joyously, and it is now I remember why we were in the art room in the first place. I was meant to draw him.
…Ah, who the fuck cares?
A/N: Err... I hope that was okay, never written anything like that before, so I would REALLY appreciate any feedback you give me :) HOPE YOU LIKED READING IT AS MUCH AS I LIKED WRITING IT HEHEH.
Right I am going to be honest and say I am not sure where to go from here, should I carry on or finish in the next few chapters? What do you guys think?
THANKYOU SO MUCH FOR READING XO
(Oh, and I have started a couple more stories woopwoop!)
Sign up to rate and review this story