FicWad

AN: Bondage in this chapter . Mmm. I think it's hot.

**
“Michael, honey, you haven’t even touched your food,” my mother commented at dinner, shooting me daggering concerned looks.

Lasagna was my favorite, but I had only managed to eat two mouthfuls, swallowing it down bitterly with sweet tea. Gerard cast me a wary glance from across the table.

“I’m just not hungry,” I mumbled, avoiding her concerned gaze.

“Are you sick, sweetie?” she asked now, reaching over to place a hand on my forehead, “well, you’re not warm—“

“I think I’m just gonna lie down for awhile,” I cut her off, then smiled sheepishly in apology. “If I may be excused?”

“Of course,” she said, watching me closely as I stood up, dropped my plate off in the sink and made my way to my room.

Seconds later, I heard a familiar knock at my door.

“Come in, Gee,” I said, knowing full well who was at the other end of my bedroom door.

“Hey, kid,” Gerard greeted me, the bed dipping as he sat down beside me. “You ok?”

“I guess,” I muttered, wishing he would leave me alone. Couldn’t he tell all I wanted to do was crawl under a rock and die? Or never face Frank again? Or never go outside for that matter?

“Mikey, listen, I’m sorry I haven’t been around much like you’re used to,” started Gerard, looking apologetic. “Mom and Dad are always calling me about you. They’re concerned. And now I am, too. These past two weeks, you’ve been…depressed? Is this about Frank? Did you break up?”

“No, I don’t know,” I admitted, feeling all my bottled up emotions boil over the top, dropping my voice into a whisper. “I just don’t know what I’m feeling anymore.”

“Mikey,” Gerard whispered, moving to lie down beside me, engulfing me in his arms, and I eagerly snuggled up against his chest, feeling childish and stupid, but I didn’t care. I loved Gerard with all my heart, and as long as he held me, things didn’t seem so bad anymore.

I wanted to tell him about Frank, how I really didn’t love him. How I really loved him, my own flesh and blood. About Bert and the sex, that for the last two weeks, I always went back for, begging on my knees like a whore. And the drugs, god, had it really been only two weeks? It seemed like yesterday I had my first encounter with sex and ecstasy, Bert pounding me into the bathroom sink at Quinn’s house—

“God, Mikey, you’re skinnier,” Gerard mused, his hands traveling down my sides, and I flushed red from the intimacy of his hands on my clothed body, “I can nearly feel your ribcage—“

I gave a hoarse laugh. “Loss of appetite.”

He raised a brow. “Oh?”

Oh, Gerard wasn’t stupid. He knew, he must’ve known—

“Yeah, stressful year,” I said, hoping that worked.

“Mmm, well, this semester will be easier on me, kiddo,” he said into my hair. “So we’ll hang out more, ok? And answer your phone more.”

I nodded, basking in his scent, wishing he could love me the same way I loved him. Just holding me, having him hold me like this, makes me realize even more how I can never feel this way about Frank, because Frank doesn’t know me like my brother does. He doesn’t know, or have the right words to say. It’s not his fault. Not his fault I’ll always ache for Gerard.

“I love you, Gee,” I murmured against his shirt, closing my eyes and pretending maybe he did love me the same way, because he was holding me closely and petting my hair, something I could see him doing to his lover. To me.

**
Kissing Bert is always dirty and eager. Hard and bruising. My lips are always swollen and red, and aching. He likes to bite, a lot.

But I like it, a lot more than I should.

“God, you’re such a slut, Mikey,” Bert laughed at me as he directed me to his bed, pushing me down with his weight, his rough hands easily tugging my shirt off and working the buttons of my jeans, and my hands voluntarily assisted him, arching up to him for more friction.

I moaned when he refused me to take his length into my hand. He chuckled at my eagerness, slapping me across the face. I did nothing, too shocked.

“Hey, we do this my way, ok?” he barked, then his expression softened and he cupped my aching cheek, kissing me softly before pulling away. I blinked away the tears, sniffling.

“Ok,” I agreed, laying back and giving him complete control. I opened my eyes in alarm when I felt something cold touch my wrists, trying to sit up in alarm, but he held me down.

“Wha--?”

“You trust me, right?” he asked now, his hand dipping into my naval, taking my semi-hard member into his hand and pumping it softly, and I nodded, letting him finish handcuff me.

“How much do you trust me?” he asked now, leaning down to suckle at my collar bone.

“A lot,” I gulped, bucking up towards his mouth, but he held me down with his rough hands and I groaned in brief pain.

“Enough to handcuff you? Choke you?” he asked now, watching my expression closely.

Choke me? What? I…

“I—I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

“Please say you do,” he breathed hotly in my ear, tugging my earlobe between his teeth.

“I…I trust you,” I gulp, wondering what he planned to do. Kill me?

Bert grinned wickedly down at me, kissing me roughly once more before pulling away and sitting up above me, tugging his shirt off and struggling out of his jeans. All I could was hopelessly lie there, handcuffed and vulnerable. Completely at his mercy.

He leaned down, his hands tickling my sides as his breath grew near my face, his hand reaching up to caress my cheek. He smiled at me softly.

“You’re really pretty,” he commented, and I glared. I’m a guy, not some girl. Just because I was skinny and pale didn’t make me pretty.

He noticed my glare and laughed. “And a slut, too.”

His hand curled around my straining length, and a moan burst from my throat at the contact and I bucked upwards his hand for more friction.

“What do you want, Mikey?” he asked huskily, eyeing me heavily, a sick smile playing along his lips. Oh lord help me, that obscene smile turned me on even more and I felt myself harden in his hand.

He lazily stroked me in his hand. Up. Down. Up. Down. At a maddeningly slow pace until I bucked up, whining.

“P-Please,” I begged now, wishing these stupid handcuffs weren’t keeping me back, or else I would’ve touched myself.

His pace quickened, and my breathing did too. I arched up towards him, my eyes fluttering close and I was almost there---

“Tell me what you want,” he commanded, stopping his motions. I whined and bucked up, and I gasped when his hands pulled my hips down hard onto the mattress, keeping me in place. “What do you want?”

“I want you to fucking touch me!” I yelled, struggling against the handcuffs. “Please fucking get me off.”

“I asked you what you wanted,” he repeated firmly, his eyes narrowing. “And I don’t like that answer, pretty.”

I groaned in frustration, glaring at him. “Fuck me.”

“How?”

“Hard. Fast. I don’t care, please just fuck me!” I begged, “Please.”

His eyes lit up and he purred, rummaging through the nightstand beside him and coming back to me with a tube of lube in his hand.

“Do you reckon I could fit four fingers?” he asked, pouring the lube onto his hand and I hissed when he brutally entered me without warning, but at least he had lubed his hand, I thought.

Oh my god, was he serious?”

“Are you kidding? No!” I yelled, and his hand clenched my hair tightly, breathing hard against my face, I winced.

“What did you say?” he growled, jerking my head back.

“I-I’ve never…is that possible?” I asked weakly, giving in.

“Yes,” he answered, pulling back and reaching back down to insert a second finger and I winced at the intrusion but bared the pain and controlled my body to relax.

By the time he added a third, I was more than prepared.

“Please, just fuck me—“ I asked now, pleading with my eyes, since my hands were immobile.

But he shook his head, putting more lube onto his fingers and I cried out when his fourth finger was inside me, stretching me further than I thought imaginable. And fuck it burned.

“Fuck…please….” I said, wishing he would pull out already.

“God, this is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he breathed in awe, thrust his fingers in and out of me. “I honestly didn’t think you could handle it, Mikey. Fuck, you’re so amazing.”

I squirmed against his fingers, panting heavily. The tears in my eyes threatened to fall. I gasped when the knuckle of one of his fingers brushed against my prostate, I fucking soared.

“Oh god,” I moaned, my hands forming into fists at the pleasure. It would feel so much better if I could hold onto him. “Please take them off, I want to touch you—“

“God, you’re such a girl, wanting to cling to me,” he insulted me, laughing at me. “Just shut up, ok?”

I nodded and bit my lip to stop the flow of grunts and moans as his fingers worked inside me, teasingly brushing against my prostate. And fuck it felt so good when he did. I was relieved when he removed all his fingers and coated his cock with the lube, holding onto my hip in one hand and holding his dick in the other as he guided himself into me, thrusting all the way in one motion. I gasped out loud when he was fully sated.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he breathed against my collar bone, pulling my legs up over his shoulders and thrusting in and out of me at a fast pace.

The next couple of moments where him pounding away inside me, purposely avoiding my spot. I grunted in annoyance and he looked down at me, a playfully smile on his lips. Argh, I wanted to smack him.

“What do you want, Mikey?” he asked now, jabbing hard into me now, it felt so bad, I winced.

“Please, fuck me. Make me come. Take off the fucking handcuffs,” I spat at him.

He stopped thrusting inside me, positioning himself onto his knees, holding onto my hips and driving himself into me harder, gaining more speed and friction on his knees. And I moaned loudly when he finally hit my spot dead on, and I struggled against the restraints, only this time in pleasure.

“Oh fuck! Bert! Right there...fuck me…oh god…”

He grunted, gripping my legs in his hands and fucking drilling me into the mattress below, so hard and fast I could hear the dull sound of our skins connecting with each brutal thrust. My eyed rolled in the back of my head and I practically screamed when his next thrust was so impossibly-deep-inside.

Then he reached down to jerk me off in time with his thrusts, I fucking lost it. I screamed, arching off the bed and towards his hand as I came all over his hand and onto our stomachs, my inner muscles clenching him tightly and triggering his release. With a roar he spurted inside me and pulled out and collapsed beside me, panting heavily.

He reached over and brushed the fringe out of eyes, “Next time we’ll try fisting. Or maybe more people.”

“M-more people?” I stuttered, thankful when he reached for the key he left on the nightstand and began to undo the handcuffs. I winced at the redness of my wrists where the metal had dug in.

“I’m joking, god you’re so stupid sometimes,” he laughed, pulling me into his arms, and it confused me. Bert wasn’t one for post-sex cuddling. “As if I let anybody else touch you. It’s enough I let your boyfriend.”

I blushed red, knowing I never gone this far with Frank and definitely couldn’t picture myself doing it now. I’m sure Frank wouldn’t handcuff me or do half the things I let Bert do to me.

I searched the floor for my jeans, noticing my phone had fallen out and I flipped it open, and I gulped the shame and guilt when I saw I had five missed calls. Four from Frank and one from my brother. All within the last two hours I’ve been with Bert. It was as if my brother and Frank knew.

“Ever tried this stuff?” asked Bert on the bed, waving a bag filled with small white pills.

“What? No,” I answered in annoyance, putting my jeans on and now searching for my shirt.

Bert laughed. “The best fucking shit in the world. Better than that shit at Quinn’s. This shit is hardcore. Come on, stay here and try it with me.”

“I really need to go—“ I protested.

But Bert hushed me. “You said your parents don’t get home until ten. It’s only seven. Come on, Mikes. I’m offering you free drugs that cost a lot of fucking money.”

“Bert, I really—“

Bert pouted and stood up, placing his hands on my hips, tugging me closer. “I promise you won’t regret it. Come on, Mikey. It’ll be the biggest high you’ve ever been on. Maybe we’ll fuck. Fucking and being high? You’re missing out.”

I really didn’t have the heart to say no, or the will. It was as if Bert took the will and heart out of me just by giving me that look, or playfully tugging at my belt buckle I just fastened. And plus I was just too tired to protest, and sex with Bert? It was weird at times, just like now, but he always finished me. And I wasn’t going to turn down that opportunity. Besides, I knew it would be a long time before came around to see him again. Or if ever.

“Ok,” I nodded, sitting down beside him on the bed as he opened the bag, an eager look on his face.

**

I really don’t know how I got home. I know Bert drove me home, but not before pulling me into an empty parking lot and fucking me dry, leaving me weak and crying and fucking high out of my mind.

“Bert, argh, please pull out, it hurts---“

“Hush, it’ll get better,” he said softly, thrusting into me harder, his grip on my hips bruising.

I know I eventually came, rather from the high or his hand, I’m not sure. But I did, and I cried a lot afterwards. Bert said I had a ‘bad hit’, or whatever the fuck that was.

“God, you’re such a fucking cry baby,” he sneered, pulling into the driveway of my house. “The only good thing you’re good for is fucking.”

I felt like I was going to hurl, but I managed to step out of the car and slam it behind me, shakily reaching for my keys and jabbing them into the keyhole, but I had lost all my coordination and couldn’t even fucking do that straight. I settled for ringing the door bell, quickly wiping my eyes, hoping it wasn’t ten and my parents weren’t home—

“Mikey?” exclaimed my brother, taking in my appearance when he opened the door.

I brushed past him and into the restroom, fully determined to take a nice, hot shower before he got a chance to question where I have been all night.

I collapsed on my bed afterwards, my hair still damp, turning off the lights and closing my eyes—

My bedroom door opened and Gerard peered in wearily,

“Mikey—?“

“I’m tired,” I cut him off, rolling over.

“Ok, well, I just wanted to let you know that Frank called. Three times. He sounded worried, and well, I was too, because you told me and Mom you were with Frank---“

“Please, Gerard,” I cut in tensely, “I just want to go to bed. Can we talk later?”

A pause and a shuffling of feet. “Alright, goodnight, baby brother.”

I hated it when he called me that. But he only called me that when he was worried. I knew he was worried.

I pulled the blanket over my head, still feeling my heart race a mile a minute. I felt like I was gonna have a heart attack, and I hoped this feeling wore off soon.