Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
The Sex God and the Gorgeous Gay
3 reviewsGerard speaks his mind, he's the flamboyantly gay gorgeous on campus. Franks may be a sexy af but Gerard's gonna make Frank his sex god.
1Funny
~+~ Gerard's Point Of View~+~
About a 2 years ago if someone asked me 'Hey, Gerard don't you hate anything about art?' the immediate answer would've been 'Nope'. Now the answer is 'sculpture'. The worst part about majoring in art. One, I can't sculpt. Two, my 'professor' aka glorified teacher is the wicked witch of the east. Finally three, I'm failing. I don't like failing.
I grabbed my bag walking over to the washing station in the classroom. Dumb clay. Dumb sculpture. Dumb freaking line for the freaking sink. Dumb me, for not being and I quote 'prepared for this lesson by bringing the proper tools, like my own disposable gloves'. Finally the people in front of me dimmed down to two more people like that. "Jesus, haven't you people heard of soap? And cleansing? And germs?! You don't know what's in that clay people!" I exclaimed somewhat over-dramatically to no one in particular. No one paid attention to my worries, even though I'm just thinking of their health. Apparently, I quote again 'Everyone has gotten used to your diva attitude by now, Gerard'. But I'm not a diva, I just know what I want. Plus, a little attitude never hurt anyone. It FINALLY came my turn after waiting. I washed my hands taking care with them. I washed them twice then wiped them on my paint and clay splattered apron. I looked over at the last few students behind me and smiled. "Use soap." I said firmly. Jeanie (the clearly lesbian chick with the boy cut and the clothes that need to go back to Canada with the lumberjacks.) looked like she couldn't be bothered with me (or this clearly new information called hygiene, as her hair doubles as a litter box). Bob (my former best friend who basically looks like your typical punk biker) looked as if I didn't say anything.
I shrugged that 'Well I Warned You' type shrug before walking over to the professor. "Look Ms. Kanine. I really suggest you get moisturizer for the sink. I mean look at my hands." I shoved my hands in her face. Flipping them around every few seconds. "Mr. Way" I interrupted her. "Gerard is fine." She sighed and did that face people make when they're frustrated and want to roll their eyes but don't. "Gerard, maybe you can just bring your own moisturizer. " She opened her mouth, clearly about to say something else. I interrupted again, but this time for the greater good of mankind. "Look, Ms. K, what about the world? You can't deny everyone else the right they have to soft hands." I shook my head at her ignorance and continued. "What about the children? Don't you care? Plus if I get my own I'll have to share." I speeded out that last part. "Okay. I'll buy the moisturizer." She pursed her lips like she was think of something important. I know that look too well, bring on the bad news. "Look, Mr. Wa-Gerard. You are a good artist. But to graduate you must pass sculpture. I realize its not your favorite." She paused, giving me time to elaborate on that. Like what do you want me to say? 'No Ms. K! You're great!' or 'No dip sherlock'. I kept my lips sealed on this one. "You need to bring you grade up in this class. You have plenty of time before graduation, yes. But let me remind you that time flies and these last two years will go by like that." She snapped her fingers, trying to be sassy. I shook my head. "Honey, whatever you just said flew out the window along with your dignity when you did that snap. Don't attempt it, if you don't know you can work it." I said with my own diva snap before walking out the classroom. What a sad sad women that poor professor is. She needs to find her inner diva.
I walked out the art building. Bedazzled phone in hand. The phone is NOT gay! It's JUST bedazzled, I did it my self. It has my name spelled out in pretty little rhinestones. There however is a unicorn on the phone, I'll admit that's a little gay (but I'm gay so I can do that). THAT wasn't even me though, Mikey did it to get back at me when I 'lied' to him. I told him unicorns weren't real and neither was Tinker Bell. He went ballistic and didn't talk to me for weeks. I missed that freakishly tall, skeleton, with the mousy hair, the skin tight jeans, the sinister glasses stapled to the bridge of his nose, the unicorn tattoo on his anus and the beanie glued to his head. That annoying little kid…He's my best friend, my brother, my broha.
I texted Mikey once 3 minutes away from his dorm room. I told him I was one my way over. He texted me back almost immediately.
From Mikeyysteeroniefgugcgkgegr:
I'm not there. I got a new roommate today though.
I stood in the hall. Just standing there. Do I go up or do I wait for Mikey or do I leave? The what?!
Gerard: Is he nice? Is he a homophobe? I'm wearing sequins today.
Mikey: When did you get... neverfreakingmind. It's not a... never mind, I don't want 2 kno. & 2 answer ur Q I have no idea. He seems nice
Gerard: I don't want to have to fight anyone if is. I love this outfit. He'll ruin it with his negativity and then his germs and then his fist.
Mikey: I said he seems nice, go on up
Gerard: You don't tell me what to do. Is he hot?
Mikey: I don't know.... I suppose... I mean, idk. I'm str8
Gerard: No, ur bi.
Mikey: WHAT?
Gerard: ur related to ME. There's no way I got all the gay gene because I like comics and shit. So you're at least bi.
Mikey: what?!
Gerard: I already tell every1 ur bi. Learn to except urself u must
Mikey: is that why that creepy guy that works at Starbucks keeps hitting on me?
Gerard: Pete is not creepy. He's nice, if you'd let urself love him.
Mikey: I am going to kill you.
I didn't text him back after. Instead I left Mikey's building and walked over to the Starbucks which was literally across the street. "Gerard! My man!" A familiar voice greeted from a far before I could even fully enter the fine cafe. "Hola PeteyWee." I said strolling towards order line, currently empty. "Usual?" Pete asked from behind the counter. Pete Wentz. I'd so bang that if he didn't have a thing for my brother. I have a thing for shortness, and tattoos (even though I myself would never get one). "Nope." I replied. He smirked, pressing buttons into the cash register and giving the barista my usual order. "What if I honestly wanted something different this time?" I asked, forcing on a rather convincing annoyed tone. "The only thing you wish to do is annoy me Gerard Way. You can't fool me. I know you." He smiled sexily, leaning over the counter and pecking me on the lips, then he thrusted my coffee at me. "First you sexually harras me, then throw coffee at me. I should call the manger and complain about this outrages behavior." I joked, saying the last part with a 'proper' accent, like people in the olden days or UK people. "Whatever Way." He smirked, his trademark. "Whatever Wentz." I offered my 'evil genius' smile. "What?" We both bursted out laughing. I finally controlled my self and started towards the exit. "Later Way." I heard Pete call behind me. "Later Wentz."
The sky was graying. Making it harder for me to see through my shades. I didn't take them off though, because it's unnecessary. I walked leisurely back across the street as soon as the sign flipped to walk. Instantly spotting something that could have been my brother. Those were my brothers clothes. But I'm immensely confused. My brother doesn't look this good. No offense. "Hey Gerard!" The good looking figure waved at me. I walked over towards the blonde casanova.
I puked in my mouth a bit. Dear lord. "Mikey! You look... good! Gorgeous even. Oh my god.. What happened to you?!" I fanned myself. I'm utterly and completely shocked. "Are you hyperventilating?.. Wait, was wrong with me before?" Mikey trailed off, forgetting about my panic attack. My throat began to tighten. I felt my breathing become constricted. It felt like all the air was being pushed into my lungs, some force unwilling to let me exhale. "Oh. Right. Are you okay?" Michael asked nonchalantly. I'm dying here, brother dear. I wanted to speak, but my body wouldn't let me. Dear god I don't want to die here. "Fuck you, asshole." I managed to choke out. No, those can not be Gerard Ways last words. "Um, Mikey." Mikes looked at me, as if he wasn't sure if he should be concerned. "Stay Fabulous, that's the Way way. Remember that sentence. Make sure people know those were my last words!" I gripped Mikey's shirt, pushing all the seriousness I could mutter into my tone. He rolled his eyes. "Asshole." Wait, my last words! No, I take it back. I felt my knees give out as I fell to the ground and everything went black. Dammit!
--
I woke up in Mikey's apartment. I looked around. Noticing the better looking, blonde version of Mikey across the room in from of the tv. But still not as good looking as me. That'd be a nightmare. "Why Mikey?" Mikey turned away from the tv and looked up at me from the floor. His look puzzled. "Your hair. I was the hot one that took all the risk." Mikey shook his head, directing his vision back to his television program. "You were the cute, reliable one. That's why we worked good together." He ignored me. "You screwed everything up and did you have to put me on the couch? It's a lumpy and ugly and... Polyester." He ignored me more. I sat up straight, glancing at the tv to figure out what had his attention. Fox news. News. News is more important than moi? "I hate polyester." I muttered standing up. "You're mean to me." I started to leave before an unfamiliar voice greeted my ears. "Mean people wouldn't have carried you up all these stairs because the elevator was broken." I turned around, facing possibly someone sexier than me. Okay, a total sex GOD. But not overly sexy, but cute too. A perfect combination. Not too sexy, not too cute. Just perfect.
His black floppy hair. His adorable smile. His perfect skin tone, he wasn't pale like me but not too tan. His lip ring and nose piercing. The tattoos adorning his arms. Everything about him screamed, 'I know you want me'. He's the perfect man. He's everything I could ever want and I'm going to make him mine. Wait.. My brain finally picking up on important information. This is Mikey's roommate? ... The guy I've also been staring at for an insane amount of time and he probably thinks I'm crazy. This is all Mikey's fault. THAT ASSHOLE!
I think I'm going to faint. "You're that guys roommate right?" I asked the beautiful stranger, pointing to my brother (whose still on the floor wrapped up in his NEWS). "Yep." He replied with a little giggle. That smile would make the devil melt. That giggle is enough to warm the hearts of the coldest men alive. His eyes caught my attention for the first time. They're gorgeous. Their color is unknown. They're HIS colored eyes. The perfect color. They're almost hazel, but not. They be mistaken for brown or even green, they have little swirls of gold that make you blubber like a baby.
Control yourself Gerard.
"I'm Frank." He stuck out his hand. My body not listening to my ever so logical brain took this as an invitation to hug him. My mouth, took the fact that he hugged back as an invitation to say "You smell like I think god would smell. Well, a beautiful sexy god," and that's when I fainted.
---
Yeah, so this was supposed to be a collab -she'll remain nameless and lets call her 'Sabrina'- with Sabrina. She bailed and I haven't had contact with her in months. I'm sure what's up with her. But I worked hard on this so I'm posting it here. I'm going to write probably one more part to this then an Epilogue and leave it be. Considering it can't be continued for reals because Sabrina bailed and we were posting on her account. Plus I feel it'd be wrong of me to continue without her and it's just not my place.
About a 2 years ago if someone asked me 'Hey, Gerard don't you hate anything about art?' the immediate answer would've been 'Nope'. Now the answer is 'sculpture'. The worst part about majoring in art. One, I can't sculpt. Two, my 'professor' aka glorified teacher is the wicked witch of the east. Finally three, I'm failing. I don't like failing.
I grabbed my bag walking over to the washing station in the classroom. Dumb clay. Dumb sculpture. Dumb freaking line for the freaking sink. Dumb me, for not being and I quote 'prepared for this lesson by bringing the proper tools, like my own disposable gloves'. Finally the people in front of me dimmed down to two more people like that. "Jesus, haven't you people heard of soap? And cleansing? And germs?! You don't know what's in that clay people!" I exclaimed somewhat over-dramatically to no one in particular. No one paid attention to my worries, even though I'm just thinking of their health. Apparently, I quote again 'Everyone has gotten used to your diva attitude by now, Gerard'. But I'm not a diva, I just know what I want. Plus, a little attitude never hurt anyone. It FINALLY came my turn after waiting. I washed my hands taking care with them. I washed them twice then wiped them on my paint and clay splattered apron. I looked over at the last few students behind me and smiled. "Use soap." I said firmly. Jeanie (the clearly lesbian chick with the boy cut and the clothes that need to go back to Canada with the lumberjacks.) looked like she couldn't be bothered with me (or this clearly new information called hygiene, as her hair doubles as a litter box). Bob (my former best friend who basically looks like your typical punk biker) looked as if I didn't say anything.
I shrugged that 'Well I Warned You' type shrug before walking over to the professor. "Look Ms. Kanine. I really suggest you get moisturizer for the sink. I mean look at my hands." I shoved my hands in her face. Flipping them around every few seconds. "Mr. Way" I interrupted her. "Gerard is fine." She sighed and did that face people make when they're frustrated and want to roll their eyes but don't. "Gerard, maybe you can just bring your own moisturizer. " She opened her mouth, clearly about to say something else. I interrupted again, but this time for the greater good of mankind. "Look, Ms. K, what about the world? You can't deny everyone else the right they have to soft hands." I shook my head at her ignorance and continued. "What about the children? Don't you care? Plus if I get my own I'll have to share." I speeded out that last part. "Okay. I'll buy the moisturizer." She pursed her lips like she was think of something important. I know that look too well, bring on the bad news. "Look, Mr. Wa-Gerard. You are a good artist. But to graduate you must pass sculpture. I realize its not your favorite." She paused, giving me time to elaborate on that. Like what do you want me to say? 'No Ms. K! You're great!' or 'No dip sherlock'. I kept my lips sealed on this one. "You need to bring you grade up in this class. You have plenty of time before graduation, yes. But let me remind you that time flies and these last two years will go by like that." She snapped her fingers, trying to be sassy. I shook my head. "Honey, whatever you just said flew out the window along with your dignity when you did that snap. Don't attempt it, if you don't know you can work it." I said with my own diva snap before walking out the classroom. What a sad sad women that poor professor is. She needs to find her inner diva.
I walked out the art building. Bedazzled phone in hand. The phone is NOT gay! It's JUST bedazzled, I did it my self. It has my name spelled out in pretty little rhinestones. There however is a unicorn on the phone, I'll admit that's a little gay (but I'm gay so I can do that). THAT wasn't even me though, Mikey did it to get back at me when I 'lied' to him. I told him unicorns weren't real and neither was Tinker Bell. He went ballistic and didn't talk to me for weeks. I missed that freakishly tall, skeleton, with the mousy hair, the skin tight jeans, the sinister glasses stapled to the bridge of his nose, the unicorn tattoo on his anus and the beanie glued to his head. That annoying little kid…He's my best friend, my brother, my broha.
I texted Mikey once 3 minutes away from his dorm room. I told him I was one my way over. He texted me back almost immediately.
From Mikeyysteeroniefgugcgkgegr:
I'm not there. I got a new roommate today though.
I stood in the hall. Just standing there. Do I go up or do I wait for Mikey or do I leave? The what?!
Gerard: Is he nice? Is he a homophobe? I'm wearing sequins today.
Mikey: When did you get... neverfreakingmind. It's not a... never mind, I don't want 2 kno. & 2 answer ur Q I have no idea. He seems nice
Gerard: I don't want to have to fight anyone if is. I love this outfit. He'll ruin it with his negativity and then his germs and then his fist.
Mikey: I said he seems nice, go on up
Gerard: You don't tell me what to do. Is he hot?
Mikey: I don't know.... I suppose... I mean, idk. I'm str8
Gerard: No, ur bi.
Mikey: WHAT?
Gerard: ur related to ME. There's no way I got all the gay gene because I like comics and shit. So you're at least bi.
Mikey: what?!
Gerard: I already tell every1 ur bi. Learn to except urself u must
Mikey: is that why that creepy guy that works at Starbucks keeps hitting on me?
Gerard: Pete is not creepy. He's nice, if you'd let urself love him.
Mikey: I am going to kill you.
I didn't text him back after. Instead I left Mikey's building and walked over to the Starbucks which was literally across the street. "Gerard! My man!" A familiar voice greeted from a far before I could even fully enter the fine cafe. "Hola PeteyWee." I said strolling towards order line, currently empty. "Usual?" Pete asked from behind the counter. Pete Wentz. I'd so bang that if he didn't have a thing for my brother. I have a thing for shortness, and tattoos (even though I myself would never get one). "Nope." I replied. He smirked, pressing buttons into the cash register and giving the barista my usual order. "What if I honestly wanted something different this time?" I asked, forcing on a rather convincing annoyed tone. "The only thing you wish to do is annoy me Gerard Way. You can't fool me. I know you." He smiled sexily, leaning over the counter and pecking me on the lips, then he thrusted my coffee at me. "First you sexually harras me, then throw coffee at me. I should call the manger and complain about this outrages behavior." I joked, saying the last part with a 'proper' accent, like people in the olden days or UK people. "Whatever Way." He smirked, his trademark. "Whatever Wentz." I offered my 'evil genius' smile. "What?" We both bursted out laughing. I finally controlled my self and started towards the exit. "Later Way." I heard Pete call behind me. "Later Wentz."
The sky was graying. Making it harder for me to see through my shades. I didn't take them off though, because it's unnecessary. I walked leisurely back across the street as soon as the sign flipped to walk. Instantly spotting something that could have been my brother. Those were my brothers clothes. But I'm immensely confused. My brother doesn't look this good. No offense. "Hey Gerard!" The good looking figure waved at me. I walked over towards the blonde casanova.
I puked in my mouth a bit. Dear lord. "Mikey! You look... good! Gorgeous even. Oh my god.. What happened to you?!" I fanned myself. I'm utterly and completely shocked. "Are you hyperventilating?.. Wait, was wrong with me before?" Mikey trailed off, forgetting about my panic attack. My throat began to tighten. I felt my breathing become constricted. It felt like all the air was being pushed into my lungs, some force unwilling to let me exhale. "Oh. Right. Are you okay?" Michael asked nonchalantly. I'm dying here, brother dear. I wanted to speak, but my body wouldn't let me. Dear god I don't want to die here. "Fuck you, asshole." I managed to choke out. No, those can not be Gerard Ways last words. "Um, Mikey." Mikes looked at me, as if he wasn't sure if he should be concerned. "Stay Fabulous, that's the Way way. Remember that sentence. Make sure people know those were my last words!" I gripped Mikey's shirt, pushing all the seriousness I could mutter into my tone. He rolled his eyes. "Asshole." Wait, my last words! No, I take it back. I felt my knees give out as I fell to the ground and everything went black. Dammit!
--
I woke up in Mikey's apartment. I looked around. Noticing the better looking, blonde version of Mikey across the room in from of the tv. But still not as good looking as me. That'd be a nightmare. "Why Mikey?" Mikey turned away from the tv and looked up at me from the floor. His look puzzled. "Your hair. I was the hot one that took all the risk." Mikey shook his head, directing his vision back to his television program. "You were the cute, reliable one. That's why we worked good together." He ignored me. "You screwed everything up and did you have to put me on the couch? It's a lumpy and ugly and... Polyester." He ignored me more. I sat up straight, glancing at the tv to figure out what had his attention. Fox news. News. News is more important than moi? "I hate polyester." I muttered standing up. "You're mean to me." I started to leave before an unfamiliar voice greeted my ears. "Mean people wouldn't have carried you up all these stairs because the elevator was broken." I turned around, facing possibly someone sexier than me. Okay, a total sex GOD. But not overly sexy, but cute too. A perfect combination. Not too sexy, not too cute. Just perfect.
His black floppy hair. His adorable smile. His perfect skin tone, he wasn't pale like me but not too tan. His lip ring and nose piercing. The tattoos adorning his arms. Everything about him screamed, 'I know you want me'. He's the perfect man. He's everything I could ever want and I'm going to make him mine. Wait.. My brain finally picking up on important information. This is Mikey's roommate? ... The guy I've also been staring at for an insane amount of time and he probably thinks I'm crazy. This is all Mikey's fault. THAT ASSHOLE!
I think I'm going to faint. "You're that guys roommate right?" I asked the beautiful stranger, pointing to my brother (whose still on the floor wrapped up in his NEWS). "Yep." He replied with a little giggle. That smile would make the devil melt. That giggle is enough to warm the hearts of the coldest men alive. His eyes caught my attention for the first time. They're gorgeous. Their color is unknown. They're HIS colored eyes. The perfect color. They're almost hazel, but not. They be mistaken for brown or even green, they have little swirls of gold that make you blubber like a baby.
Control yourself Gerard.
"I'm Frank." He stuck out his hand. My body not listening to my ever so logical brain took this as an invitation to hug him. My mouth, took the fact that he hugged back as an invitation to say "You smell like I think god would smell. Well, a beautiful sexy god," and that's when I fainted.
---
Yeah, so this was supposed to be a collab -she'll remain nameless and lets call her 'Sabrina'- with Sabrina. She bailed and I haven't had contact with her in months. I'm sure what's up with her. But I worked hard on this so I'm posting it here. I'm going to write probably one more part to this then an Epilogue and leave it be. Considering it can't be continued for reals because Sabrina bailed and we were posting on her account. Plus I feel it'd be wrong of me to continue without her and it's just not my place.
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