Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
Games
“So, whatcha wanna do?”
I look to my boyfriend, one Frank Anthony Iero, and smile to myself as he gazes at me with those pretty eyes of his. Like the eyes of a puppy waiting to be taken for a walk on the beach, constantly full of energy and waiting for me to give him a belly-rub. Yep, just like a cute little puppy. My cute little puppy.
“Dunno, Gee.” He replies, his earlier three cans of Coca-Cola evident in the buzzing tone to his voice. “We could play a game?”
The way that he’s smirking makes it perfectly clear to me that that is exactly what we are doing. It’s the smirk that he always gives me when he has what he deems as a great idea ticking away in his head like a time-bomb. His lips, those soft candyfloss curves, turn upright at one end, as though they’re waiting for my consent to give them the lift that they need to turn into a full-on smile. Something that I could never deny my Frankie; he’s too fucking cute when he smiles. And when he smirks. And when he laughs.
Whenever he does anything really. Even when he’s annoying the hell out of me, I still find it cute. Hell, he’s even cute when he’s trying to break the world record for the number of Skittles stuffed up someone’s nose in one go. Because I love him and it’s those little quirks about him, those crazy ideas and ambitions, that make him, him; the boy that I’ve been in love with since I first saw him in my brother’s bedroom doing homework with Mikey two years ago. I was smitten at first sight, something that even I find to be sickeningly clichéd and fairy-tale-like, no matter how true it might be.
“What kind of game, Babe?” I ask, restlessly threading an arm around his shoulders to pull him even closer to me on my bed and making my skin tingle like popping-candy at his close contact. It doesn’t matter if we’ve made-out more times than there are stars in the sky; the slightest touch from my Frankie still sends my head spinning on a sugar rush. “It better not involve moving.”
He giggles, that high-pitched bubble-gum sound of pure soul, and buries his face in my neck. Even though I know it’s coming, it still makes me moan when I feel his teeth bite down on my pale skin, igniting an eruption of sincere lust and euphoria pouring it’s scorching lava all over my skin, seeping into my veins and making my heart burst at the sensation. One person, a boy of sixteen no less, should be able to have such an effect on me with such a small gesture. And yet Frankie does, because that’s just how Frankie is; like a fever that can’t be washed away and must be endured until the end, making you as lovesick as a teenaged Prince Charming. Not that I’d want to be cured of Frank Iero. Far from it; I like the way this fever makes me sweat.
He pulls his face from my flesh, eyes rife with life and grin huge because he knows that he owns me; that I’m his and I’ll do whatever he wants. That I’m like a canvas waiting for him to draw on me, to form a picture that’s to his liking.
“Let’s play a ‘What If?’ game.” He sighs, falling back against me so that my arms are engulfing him. “You can start.”
To be honest, I’m a little disappointed with his idea of a game. I thought it would be a little more interesting than just asking questions, that it might actually involve more of his sharp little snips at my skin. But if this is what my Frankie wants to do, then that’s what we’re going to do.
Besides, knowing Frank it’s most likely got a bigger meaning behind it than just idle boredom
“Um, okay.” I pause to think, trying my best to come up with a question that will satisfy the hungry eyes boring into me. “What if you could go back in time?”
“I wouldn’t.” I raise my eyebrows at his quick reply, waiting for an explanation to his hasty answer. “C’mon, Gee. Haven’t you seen Back to the Future? The last thing I want is to end up kissing my mom and singing crappy rock ballads to save my life.”
A splutter of hopeless laughter pours from my lips like nectar at the deadly seriousness in his tone and the look of fake-hurt he puts on at my guffawing; trust my Frankie to come up with an answer like that. But then again, what did I really expect?
“My turn!” He squeaks, a certain gleam in his eyes that makes me cuddle him closer because I don’t want to ever not be able to see the way that his irises shimmer like diamonds when he’s with me. “What if you only had an hour left to live?”
Seeing the chance to be romantic, something that I don’t think I am nearly enough when it comes to my cute little Frankie, I cup his face in my hands and press a kiss softly to his lips, making him sigh like a summertime breeze.
“I’d spend every last second of it with you.”
A/N: Just a short piece of pointless Frerard fluff. Hope you liked it! Reviews and rates make me smile! :)
“So, whatcha wanna do?”
I look to my boyfriend, one Frank Anthony Iero, and smile to myself as he gazes at me with those pretty eyes of his. Like the eyes of a puppy waiting to be taken for a walk on the beach, constantly full of energy and waiting for me to give him a belly-rub. Yep, just like a cute little puppy. My cute little puppy.
“Dunno, Gee.” He replies, his earlier three cans of Coca-Cola evident in the buzzing tone to his voice. “We could play a game?”
The way that he’s smirking makes it perfectly clear to me that that is exactly what we are doing. It’s the smirk that he always gives me when he has what he deems as a great idea ticking away in his head like a time-bomb. His lips, those soft candyfloss curves, turn upright at one end, as though they’re waiting for my consent to give them the lift that they need to turn into a full-on smile. Something that I could never deny my Frankie; he’s too fucking cute when he smiles. And when he smirks. And when he laughs.
Whenever he does anything really. Even when he’s annoying the hell out of me, I still find it cute. Hell, he’s even cute when he’s trying to break the world record for the number of Skittles stuffed up someone’s nose in one go. Because I love him and it’s those little quirks about him, those crazy ideas and ambitions, that make him, him; the boy that I’ve been in love with since I first saw him in my brother’s bedroom doing homework with Mikey two years ago. I was smitten at first sight, something that even I find to be sickeningly clichéd and fairy-tale-like, no matter how true it might be.
“What kind of game, Babe?” I ask, restlessly threading an arm around his shoulders to pull him even closer to me on my bed and making my skin tingle like popping-candy at his close contact. It doesn’t matter if we’ve made-out more times than there are stars in the sky; the slightest touch from my Frankie still sends my head spinning on a sugar rush. “It better not involve moving.”
He giggles, that high-pitched bubble-gum sound of pure soul, and buries his face in my neck. Even though I know it’s coming, it still makes me moan when I feel his teeth bite down on my pale skin, igniting an eruption of sincere lust and euphoria pouring it’s scorching lava all over my skin, seeping into my veins and making my heart burst at the sensation. One person, a boy of sixteen no less, should be able to have such an effect on me with such a small gesture. And yet Frankie does, because that’s just how Frankie is; like a fever that can’t be washed away and must be endured until the end, making you as lovesick as a teenaged Prince Charming. Not that I’d want to be cured of Frank Iero. Far from it; I like the way this fever makes me sweat.
He pulls his face from my flesh, eyes rife with life and grin huge because he knows that he owns me; that I’m his and I’ll do whatever he wants. That I’m like a canvas waiting for him to draw on me, to form a picture that’s to his liking.
“Let’s play a ‘What If?’ game.” He sighs, falling back against me so that my arms are engulfing him. “You can start.”
To be honest, I’m a little disappointed with his idea of a game. I thought it would be a little more interesting than just asking questions, that it might actually involve more of his sharp little snips at my skin. But if this is what my Frankie wants to do, then that’s what we’re going to do.
Besides, knowing Frank it’s most likely got a bigger meaning behind it than just idle boredom
“Um, okay.” I pause to think, trying my best to come up with a question that will satisfy the hungry eyes boring into me. “What if you could go back in time?”
“I wouldn’t.” I raise my eyebrows at his quick reply, waiting for an explanation to his hasty answer. “C’mon, Gee. Haven’t you seen Back to the Future? The last thing I want is to end up kissing my mom and singing crappy rock ballads to save my life.”
A splutter of hopeless laughter pours from my lips like nectar at the deadly seriousness in his tone and the look of fake-hurt he puts on at my guffawing; trust my Frankie to come up with an answer like that. But then again, what did I really expect?
“My turn!” He squeaks, a certain gleam in his eyes that makes me cuddle him closer because I don’t want to ever not be able to see the way that his irises shimmer like diamonds when he’s with me. “What if you only had an hour left to live?”
Seeing the chance to be romantic, something that I don’t think I am nearly enough when it comes to my cute little Frankie, I cup his face in my hands and press a kiss softly to his lips, making him sigh like a summertime breeze.
“I’d spend every last second of it with you.”
A/N: Just a short piece of pointless Frerard fluff. Hope you liked it! Reviews and rates make me smile! :)
Sign up to rate and review this story