Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Just GO for it, Already!

Fix Your Tent

by GerardWayisSex 3 reviews

[Contains Slash] Our Gee-Gee is really obsessing over Frankie. He really seems to like him. So much so that...Hey, Gerard. What's up with your pants? You might wanna fix that.

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Humor,Romance - Characters: Frank Iero,Gerard Way - Published: 2007-12-06 - Updated: 2007-12-07 - 2032 words

2Ambiance
Chapter three. After some begging by some random viewers that I shall not name (You know who you are!!) I am pushing myself to write another chapter even though I just spent several hours writing my anthropology report. Don’t worry, I love your begging. It makes me feel like the S in S&M. Read on. Hopefully I’m not the only one who thinks the beginning of this chapter is funny and oddly girly.

“You’re obsessed.”

Gerard bit his lip as he attempted not to smile. The feeling crept up into his facial muscles, pulling his mouth into a grin. He rolled onto his stomach and picked up his pencil off of the blankets of his bed, ready to sketch. He held the phone between his ear and his shoulder.

“No, I’m not,” he said, his voice slightly strained as he tried not to giggle with a strangely girly glee. It was useless. His smile was almost audible.

“Mm/Hmm,/” replied Finch, her voice laced with friendly sarcasm. “Then don’t tell me what new and-” She changed her voice to the sugary sweet tone usually used with dogs and small children. “-/oh-so cute/ thing he did today. I dare you, really.” Gerard felt the giggle that had settled in his stomach helplessly crawl up his throat. He tried to hold it in, along with all the other things he wanted to say, but they burst out like air in a popped balloon.

“Okay!” he giggled. “I’m a little obsessed. So sue me. But he’s just so perfect and cute and-oh, okay-okay, like, today, he was just sitting there-”

No. Freaking. Way,” Finch exclaimed in a faux-surprised voice. “The guy sits, too?! Jesus effing Christ! Quick, Gee-Gee! Call Ripley’s!”

“Shut /up/, dude,” he laughed, almost too pleased to speak. “But he just like…/sighed/…and it was so adorable, and I just wanted to hug him and take him home with me.”

“Wow. You sound just like a woman with a penis. I’m surprised you haven’t ass-raped the guy yet. I swear to God, I thought you were going to jump him yesterday.”

“Why?” Gerard asked through a laugh. So many things had happened in the last week, it was impossible to tell one moment from the other. The all had seemed to have blurred into one, giant, orgasmic, Frank-y bliss.

”Dude!” Finch exclaimed. “When he like, was pulling off his backpack and his shirt came up and all you saw was like…/ABS./ I thought you were gonna just rip off your pants and bang him in front of everyone. The look on your face was priceless.” Gerard let out a low, Mmmm sound, as if the memory was simply the most delicious thing he had stored in his head. He dropped his sketching supplies as he obviously was going to get no work done at all with thoughts of Frank’s toned, flat abs floating in his brain. He gave yet another low laugh.

“He’s so fucking hot. The shitty thing about that is we’re in the same gym period.”

“What sucks about that?” She asked. “You guys have a class together. I’d think you’d be like, jizzing yourself over it.” Gerard smirked on the other line. The fact that Finch was female meant that she didn’t always pick up on…/male/…things immediately. It was strange, considering she’d had a male best friend for somewhere around four years now. Gerard guessed that she was a little slow in the testosterone department.

“Think about it,” he said slyly. “His locker is right next to mine.” Finch was quiet. She thought for a few moments, then gave up.

“I don’t get it. Just like…tell me.”

“Frank equals sexy. Gerard equals in gym clothing. Gym clothing equals not very restrictive.”

Finch was quiet again for a few moments. After about fifteen seconds, she let out a half-irritated, half-amused breath of air.

“You know, Gee-Gee, you’re going to be a rapist when you grow up.”

-----

Gerard swung his legs gently, the swing swaying slightly back and forth. He didn’t recognize this park and wasn’t even sure why (or how, really) he’d gone there in the first place. And if he had to walk home, he might get lost. Despite this, he felt calm, sleepy, as if he had just awoken from a warm, comfortable nap. With sleepiness weighing down his eyelids, he closed his eyes, preparing to perhaps to rest on the swing, when he felt someone gently tapping on his shoulder. He turned. His heart leapt.

Frank smiled softly back at him. He, too, sat on a swing, his gloved hands holding onto the ropes. The light from the sun shone behind him, casting yellow-white silhouettes on his body, illuminating his multi-colored hair, giving him an angelic, innocent impression. Gerard blinked and felt, once again, the strong, tugging urge to kiss that beautiful creature, to take him and hold him and squeeze him so tight that it was impossible to let go.

“Hey,” Frank said. Gerard’s words slid out with ease, which surprised even himself considering he still choked whenever Frank was around.

“Hey,” he replied. It wasn’t as though he was feeling confident, just lacking the feeling of nervousness. “…What are you doing here?” Frank shrugged. The gesture made him look small and childish.

“That’s not important.” He suddenly took Gerard’s hand with his own gloved one. The texture was rough against his bare skin. “I like you.” Gerard’s throat seemed to close. Every happy, blissful emotion seemed to well up inside his stomach. The happiness was so intense that it felt almost like sadness; sweet, consuming, beautiful and painful for reasons unable to be described. The only thing he was able to choke out was, “I like you, too.” Then Frank did something Gerard didn’t expect. Oh, God, how he had wanted it, dreamt of it, prayed to whatever higher being there was that this would happen and now it was.

Frank leaned in. Gerard couldn’t suppress the gasp that had built up in his throat.

The sensation of someone else’s lips against his own sent a wave of pleasure down his spine. This was something he had only dreamed of, something he stopped himself from fantasizing about because he didn’t want to ‘disrespect’ Frank in any way. It was perfect and beautiful and it was so unreal that he could do nothing at all except give in. He closed his eyes and kissed back, gently massaging his mouth against Frank’s. It was impossible to tell how long they sat there, gently working their mouths together- no tongue, no touching, just blissfully sharing each other’s warmth. But, in a sudden burst of emotion, Gerard’s body cried out for more. It longed for the sensation of touch; it needed more than simple warmth. Just as this feeling began to ferment in his stomach and flow through his veins, Frank opened his mouth and shot his tongue into Gerard’s. His gloved hand caressed his face as he tasted the other boy’s mouth. Gerard followed suit and let his hand slide into Frank’s hair, leaning into the kiss even farther.

And it didn’t stop there. Frank suddenly wrapped his arms around Gerard’s back, pulling their bodies together. Gerard fell off his swing, Frank following after and laying on top of him. They rolled around in the playground’s woodchips, their hearts beating together through the fabric of their clothes, fragments of wood collecting in their hair.

“I want you to love me,” Frank moaned into Gerard’s mouth suddenly. He slid his hands under Gerard’s shirt and up his sides. “I want you to love me /now./” The words were animalistic, beastly, hungry. To Gerard they were the most amazing sounds he’d ever heard in his seventeen years of life.

“I do,” Gerard groaned out desperately, as though if he didn’t put enough emotion into the words Frank wouldn’t believe him. He gasped as Frank reached for his belt. “I do, oh, God, I do.

Something hit Gerard’s head. The sensation occurred on the back of his head, which was odd as he was lying with his back to the ground.

”Gerard…”

The blissful sensation of touch was slipping away.

”Gee-Gee, wake the fuck up. What are you doing?

He suddenly blinked…and found himself staring at the wood of a desk. He lifted his head, disheveled hair in his eyes, and turned to find Finch starring at him in the seat beside him. Her lips were pursed as though she was trying not to laugh. She pointed to his desk. There was a paper ball in front of him. It was obviously the thing that had hit his head He grabbed it and unfolded it. With a sinking feeling he realized two things. The first one he realized himself: He was not making out with Frank on a sunny day at a playground- he was in study hall. The second came to him via Finch’s paper ball. He looked at her. He looked at the note. In her untidy scrawl, she had written:

”Wake up, sleepyhead. Oh, by the way, you’re pitching a tent. You have five minutes to think of something to turn you off. GO!

On any other day, Gerard probably would have laughed. But not today. No, today he had thought that it was actually happening. That thought alone turned him off. His tent was “un-pitched” by the time the bell rang. He stared miserably at the ground. And Finch couldn’t stop laughing.

----


Gerard placed his forehead on the lunch table. He wanted to fall back asleep, to fall back into the dream where Frank confessed his love for him and they both screwed each other senseless on the floor of whatever strange scene his brain decided to put them in that time. He felt a poke on the top of his head. It was Finch.

“Why so down, Gee-Gee?” She asked. “Are you still ticked about your inconvenient hard-on in study hall? Because I’m sure I’m the only one who noticed.” Gerard wasn’t sure to cry or be irritated or just give up and sink into the ground.

“I’m not ticked about that-I’m not ticked about anything, actually. And it’s not like you would get it, so just…be quiet or something.” Finch was quiet. She didn’t reply with a witty comeback or an angry remark like she usually did. When she spoke, her voice was unusually quiet.

“That really hurts, Gerard,” she said in a half-whisper. Her voice was weak and quavering. “If you were mad, you should have said so. I wouldn’t have said anything.”

Oh, that was perfect. Now he felt like shit for bitching at his friend. Because the day just wasn’t over yet, was it? He sat up and pushed his hand through his hair. Finch’s eyes were large and she was biting her lip.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I just…I feel like…”

“…You feel like he won’t want you back?” she offered. Her looked had softened and become calm again with the reassurance that her one and only friend was no longer irritated with her. He nodded. Finch opened her mouth to speak again when her eyes drifted behind Gerard. Her soft expression was replaces with a hard, irritated scowl.

”Shit!” she cursed loudly. Gerard turned around. Oh, fuck, the day was most certainly not over.

Frank, who had obviously been on his way over to their table (he had been sitting with them for the past week) when he was stopped by a group of kids. This wouldn’t have been so bad if it wasn’t the for the fact that this particular group of kids was the epitome of all that was evil, malicious, and hypocritically conforming.

The Scene Kids had gotten a hold of Frank.
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