Current mood:	accomplished
Current music:	None, Currently
Entry tags:	frank/gerard, my chemical romance

Fear of Falling
Title: Fear of Falling [Standalone]
Pairing: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Rating: NC-17
POV: Frank's
Summary: Some fluff, some angst; a little bit of everything, really. Frank is angsting over the definition of his relationship with Gerard.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the words on the page. This is purely fictional for our entertainment purposes.
Author Notes: Written sort of unofficially, for Valentine's Day. For the people that I love the most. ♥



Fear of Falling



Sometimes it's really hard being me.


Sure, I'm in an awesome band which is formed entirely of my best friends, but it's still not easy. People assume that when you're famous you get everything handed to you on a silver platter, and I'm here to assure you that doesn't happen as often as one would think. Now, this is not to say that I don't love my life, because I do. I love it more than you can ever imagine, and not a day goes by that I don't thank my lucky stars.


Still, there are times when I want something so bad that I can taste it, and believe me, I, Frank Anthony Iero don't always get what I want.


That being said, it's a typical evening here on the tour bus. Gerard and I are hanging out together, though, we're busy doing our own thing. Toro and Bob have gone out for drinks, and I think Mikey went to some underground party. So that just leaves Gee and I. I didn't feel like going out tonight so the next best thing is sitting in my bunk, tuning my guitar right?


Yes, I can be a loser sometimes but at least I admit it. We've been touring for what feels like forever, and all I want to do is crawl under my covers and go to sleep. However, Gerard and I haven't really had any quality time alone together lately, so I'm not missing this opportunity. Of course, it would be better if he wasn't so absorbed in his song writing and you know, actually speaking to me, but still, there is something very comforting about our companionable silence.


Gerard and I don't always need words. Every so often we happen to look up at the same time and catch each other's eyes and smile before turning our attention back to our mutual tasks. God, I love him. I'm glad he stayed behind too, and I like to think that maybe he wanted to spend some time with me, though, he was probably just tired too.


I've just gotten my guitar tuned to perfection when Gerard's incessant coughing begins. That happens to him sometimes which is why he's usually armed with his beloved bottle of honey. It typically stops the coughing immediately, which is why I'm currently scanning the room for that damn bottle. Usually it's laying around, taunting me with images of Gerard nearly giving it head as he squeezes the golden substance into his mouth. I can easily picture it sliding down his throat to soothe his shredded vocal cords, and after he's had his fill, I also can imagine him licking away the stray traces of honey as they drip down the plastic.


"Are you okay?" I ask as I set my guitar down. In two seconds, I'm in his bunk armed with the can of Coke Zero I've been drinking from. "Here," I say, thrusting it into his hands and watching as he takes a long, appreciative gulp. Immediately, his eyes well up as the acid burns his throat, but at least it's quelled the coughing. Somewhat. He sputters a few times but he seems to be okay now.


"Thanks, Frankie," He chokes out, his voice sounding pained and raw (but sincere) as he wipes at his eyes. I couldn't help but smile at this since he's successfully managed to smear his eye make-up. This was not going to thrill him in the least. Though, if anyone wanted my two cents, I think he looks even better, if that's possible. Smudged eyeliner is sexy.


"What?" He asks, eyeing me curiously as I try hard not to laugh. "Yes, I know that I'm sixteen shades of attractive right now with my leaky eyes and oh-so-sexy voice. You should totally be jealous," He teases as he gives his eyes a final rub.


"Well, yeah," I agree, my words holding more truth than he'll ever know as I bite down on my lower lip subconsciously. His voice just does things to me that I can't quite explain. "But your eye make-up is smudged now," I grin as I watch his facial expression turn from serene to horrified. I know I shouldn't be enjoying this but, I am. He can be a bit prissy when it comes to his make-up.


"What? Fix it!" He squeaks, sounding all of five as he starts swiping angrily at his eyes.


"Whoa," I say, grabbing his wrists before he can do any irreparable damage. "Hold still," I instruct as I lick the tip of my pinky and begin methodically correcting some of the thicker streaks and turning them into facial art. The intricate swirls of black have now been tamed and hell ... touching him should not feel this good. I notice that he barely breathes as I fix him up, and he's chewing on his lower lip the way he does when he's nervous; interesting.


"There," I say, pulling my hand away quickly as I realize I'd also been caressing his cheek.


Fuck. I promised myself I wasn't going to do this anymore.


"Thanks," He whispers, looking right into my eyes, which causes me to shiver involuntarily. The thing that not many people know about Gerard is that he's all about the eye contact. I'm the opposite. I always get nervous, like now, and I look away, but when I look back at him, I realize he's not taken his eyes off me. Not just tonight, but typically, I mean. Gerard can say more with his eyes than most people can using actual words.


"Anytime," I say, taking a moment to hold his gaze. For the first time in a long time, I'm really looking at him. He's changed so much over the years, but always for the better. I can vividly remember a time when his hair was long and black and I miss it, but I have to admit I love the blonde. It seems to suit him somehow; it makes him look a lot younger than twenty-nine.


I still remember the morning he woke me up and handed me the clippers and simply said 'do it' as he climbed into bed with me. Way to go, Gee. Give the guy who's been awake all of two minutes (and severely lacking any type of caffeination whatsoever) full reign over your hair. I remember feeling vaguely disappointed as I watched the glossy strands fall to the floor because I've always loved his hair. I was going to miss silly things like braiding it or putting barrettes in it while he slept.


No, we're not a very mature bunch but we're family, so doing things to occasionally make each other look stupid won't get us thrown off the bus while it's still in motion. I admired Gee for cutting his hair off like that, though. He really wanted to go all out with The Black Parade album and Gerard Way is nothing if not determined.


Suddenly, I realize two things. One, that the silence has become almost deafening and two, that I'm still staring at him. I want to reach out and touch his hair because it looks so soft, but I manage to refrain (for now) and instead, occupy my hand by picking up my can of Coke and taking a nervous sip.


Why the hell am I so nervous?


"Earth to Frankie," My mind registers as I realize Gerard is speaking to me. Oh god, how long has he been talking?


"Huh?" I say, sounding vaguely stupid, I'm sure, as I snap out of my reverie.


"Welcome back," He teases, as he reaches down to pat my knee. "Where the hell were you just now, man?" He asks and I'm not quite sure what to say.


"Sorry, I was just thinking," I reply, as I tear my eyes away from him finally.


"About?" He asks softly, which makes my heart flutter.


"It's silly," I admit shyly, looking down at my lap as I feel my cheeks redden. Great, I'm blushing. Wonderful.


"All the more reason to share," He smiles, nudging my shoulder playfully. "C'mon," He prods and I feel myself giving in.


"Oh, all right," I cave as I watch his face light up. He loves getting his way, which is quite amusing actually. "I was just remembering the day you asked me to cut your hair," I replied sheepishly. I don't know why I was so embarrassed though. Perhaps because I admitted that I'd been thinking about him? He didn't seem to mind though. In fact, he looked pleased.


"And bleach it," He adds, giving me a smile that makes my thighs shake. He has this way of smiling without actually smiling, (if that makes sense) and it drives me crazy. It's almost a smirk, because his lips curl a bit, but he cocks his head to one side and it's the cutest thing ever.


It's no secret that Gerard and I are attracted to each other, and over the years we've had our fair share of intimate moments, (both on and off stage) but it's been a while we've connected physically, and I'm starting to think that he isn't interested anymore. I mean, in the beginning, it was all about the convenience. When we were horny, we had each other. Lately, it's just been rather sporadic, and I don't know what to make of that.


I guess now would be a good time to mention that I'm in love with him, so all of our encounters have left me with emotional scars, because all I've ever wanted is to be with him, to wake up to his sweet face every morning and know he's mine. Sadly, that's never going to happen, I fear, but I admit that I do think about it quite a bit. Definitely more than I should, that's for sure.


"Why me?" I ask him suddenly, and watching as his eyes sparkle.


"Because I trust you," He replies without any hesitation whatsoever, which makes my chest physically hurt. In a good way, of course.


"You trust Mikey," I counter, choosing to play the brother card. Gerard and I may be really close, but no one will ever share the bond he has with Mikey. Sometimes I think that there's more than brotherly love transpiring between them, like when I've woken up in the middle of the night to find them curled up together like twins in a womb. I should find it all a little strange, and a lot disturbing but for those two, it's not surprising. And now that I've successfully embedded that thought into my brain, I have to shift a bit so that my sudden erection isn't rubbing against the constrictive material of my pants. Because let's face it, the Way brothers are hot.


At the mention of Mikey, Gerard snorts a little and looks down as if remembering a private joke. "You know I trust Mikey completely, but let's consider this for a minute. You do remember the shower incident, right?" He asks me, as if I could ever forget? Not in this lifetime. (Or the next, for that matter.)


"Mikey and electrical appliances just don't mesh, and I'm sure as hell not letting him near my head with one," He continues, shuddering a little at the thought, and I have to laugh.


Mikey is a sweet guy. He can rock the bass, (he's a really good kisser but we won't talk about why I know that. Ahem.) and certainly one of my best friends, but the simple truth is that he's just not the brightest crayon in the box, to put it nicely. He doesn't possess quite as much common sense as any of us would prefer, but just hand that boy a bass and it's like watching poetry in motion.


"Point taken," I giggle (sounding completely gay, I know) and then I find myself finally reaching out to ruffle Gerard's hair. His hair has always been soft, but somehow, the flaxen hue makes it look even more so, like cotton candy and I just have to touch it. For a brief moment, we both seem to be lost in thought, and I swear, I would have given up my first born to know what he was thinking right then.


"So ... I'm starving," I add suddenly, breaking the awkward silence as I pull my hand away. The tension has crept up on us again and it's starting to make me nervous. I guess I'm hoping that Gerard might make a move or something, but I'm not about to hold my breath. Typically, he would have by now, and I'm starting to feel a little uncomfortable. A subject change seems approriate. "You wanna order some pizza?" I ask, as he nods emphatically.


"Do I ever say no to pizza?" He asks, patting his slightly round belly which makes me 'awww' internally.


Now would also be a good time to mention that his stomach is my favorite of all his body parts. He might not have washboard abs, but I love it. Even more so, actually. It's soft and comfortable and it's the perfect pillow for me when I lay my head in his lap as I love to do sometimes. I think Gerard is absolutely beautiful. He's always comparing himself to Mikey and while Mikey is also beautiful, I think he's too skinny. (I know, I'm one to talk right?) Gerard is healthy looking, and I like that; he's solid. I don't feel like he'll break when we tickle-torture each other. (Which we're notorious for doing.) He's definitely not fat by any means, but he's always been subconscious about his weight. In fact, one of his random acts of 'emo' was what initiated our first time together.


I remember that he was bitching about his weight, and more specifically, his pretty little belly, and I remember trying to cheer him up by burying myself under his shirt and covering his midsection with fluttery kisses. One thing led to another, and before either of us knew what the hell was going on, he was fucking me right into next week up against the bathroom door of the tour bus. Hottest. Sex. Ever. And I mean ever. When it was all over, he crawled into my bunk with me, and pressed soft kisses all over my back and shoulders until I fell asleep. That's about all I remember but it's enough for me. When I woke up the next morning, he was back in his own bunk, but apparently he'd drawn a black heart on the wall above my head with his eyeliner.


And so it all began.


"Well, you weren't too fond of Mikey's sick-ass 'sushi pizza' concoction," I say, finally answering his question with a heavy trace of disgust. Trust me, no one should be subjected to that. Looking up, I catch Gerard's facial expression and I crack up because seriously, I wish you could see it. I wont gross you out entirely, but once, Mikey thought it was a good idea to turn raw fish and seaweed into pizza toppings. I'm not exactly a picky eater, but I am definitely not into that. I'm also not eating anything that's even remotely related to seaweed. Ew. There are dozens of other vegetables out there.


"Dude. That was the sickest shit I've ever seen; I worry about him sometimes," Gerard says, shaking his head and laughing. He's smiling now, and I bet he's fondly remembering some of the other crazy things his brother has done.


Now, before I go on, Perhaps I should give you some more insight to our history. Sort of, paint the scene for you, and then maybe you'll have a better grip on our relationship. Or, whatever it is that we have.


Now, I already told you about our first encounter together, so we'll move on to our second. It was the very next night actually. At one of our shows, Gerard surprised me by walking up behind me and rubbing himself against me which made me very grateful that I had a guitar covering my crotch. I swear, when that show ended, it wasn't even five minutes before we were all over each other. In fact, I think it was two. As we hurried off the stage, we hung back a second to allow Bob, Toro and Mikey to shuffle past, as Gerard dragged me into the nearest unoccupied space: a broom closet. Let me tell you, mops and toilet cleaner had never looked sexier.


"Sorry, but I just couldn't wait," He growled as he clawed at my bulletproof vest. He broke the straps actually, which was fun explaining to the others since I wasn't wearing it when we returned to our dressing room. Gerard wasn't wearing his either and the shirt he'd worn underneath was on inside-out now, but no one seemed to notice. If they did notice, they didn't seem to care.


When Gerard was horny, he had absolutely no shame. He would mind-fuck me on stage and then (like always) we'd find a dark, secluded corner where we could act out our most pervasive fantasies. For the record, we weren't fucking each other exclusively, but as far as I was concerned, we might has well have been. My mind was made up; I didn't want anyone else. For a while, our encounters had become routine but all of a sudden, they've been practically nonexistent.


I think being caught had something to do with it.


Even though everyone pretty much knew we were fuck buddies, confirming their suspicions was a whole new ball game. Now, if there's one thing that Gerard hates, it's relentless teasing, which we received in mass quantity by our band mates. Nothing particularly mean, but just enough to annoy the hell out of Gerard and have him constantly on the defensive.


Gerard is also a very private person, and doesn't take too kindly to his privacy being mocked.


It was all my fault, really. We were in California, and had just come back from the beach. Gerard isn't especially fond of the beach but he went because I asked him to, which made me happy. Bob, Toro and Mikey had gone to a bar and Gerard and I had lied our way out of going with them so we could spend the evening together.


Thinking about that night always hurts, because around that time, I really began to feel that there was more than just sex between us. His touches were softer, his kisses, more tender. We were spending most of our free time together to the point that it almost felt like we were a couple. There were many nights that I wanted to define our relationship, but I thought better of it. There was no way that I was going to have The Talk with him, so instead I just chose to let our time together run whatever course destiny saw fit.


So, yeah. We were in California and as I said, we weaseled our way out of having to hang with the guys. Looking back, I can honestly say it was one most flawless evenings that we've ever spent together. Well, minus the whole 'being caught' thing. The sun had gone down, we had the beach to ourselves and it was perfect. I decided to give surfing a try and even persuaded Gerard to as well, though he failed miserably.


It didn't matter though. Nothing mattered, but each other. Just being silly together and spending the evening in each other's arms; it really was perfect.


I don't know what it was, but the combination of the warm breeze, mixed with Gerard's salty kisses had me delirious for more. Usually, Gerard made the first move but this time it was all me. We had just emerged from yet another swim in the Pacific when I found it impossible not to just take him. Usually, he topped, but I took all leads that night and dragged him away from the beach by the waistband of his swimsuit until we fell into a wet, tangled heap onto the plush hotel carpeting.


See, where I fucked up was that I forgot to lock Gerard's bedroom door. We didn't want to be blatantly obvious, so Gerard roomed with Mikey, while Bob, Toro and I all shared a penthouse across the hall. Even so, Gee's bedroom had more or less become our mutual hangout, which was reason number one to secure the locks.


Once we hit the floor, I wasted no time peeling off his soggy clothes, so I could taste him all over. His skin tasted just like his kisses had; wet and salty and for the first time he was all mine. He was spread out beneath me like a discovered treasure, and he never looked more beautiful. Hearing him whimper my name and begging me to fuck him isn't something I'm going to forget any time soon. He let out a sharp moan as I slid into him and reflexively gripped my hand as he willed his muscles to liquefy.


Once he was ready, I began to move. Slowly at first, so as not to tear his sensitive flesh but in minutes, I was so slick from my own excitement that my actions soon became effortless. And please, spare me the condom lecture as it's already been obsessively drilled into my head by my horrified band mates. See also: Toro. He was the most traumatized by, this and gave me the tongue-lashing of a lifetime later.


I just wasn't thinking. For the record, Gerard and I always practice safe sex, but right then and there, I just had to have him. Sans lube, condoms or coherency.


We were interrupted mid-fuck by a disgustingly amused Toro who, in turn was nice enough to try and stop Mikey and Bob from entering the room to no avail. From the way Toro shrieked in surprise, it was a wonder that security didn't bolt in behind him. The one thing I'll never forget though, was the crumpled look on Mikey's face. For the first time since Gerard and I started sleeping together, I felt dirty and ashamed.


I hated that I was the one to traumatize Mikey like that, even though he swore that he was okay with it. He was also a terrible liar. It took him a while to come around but I think he finally learned to accept it. He had been keeping his distance from me for quite a while, but one day, when it was just the two of us, he wandered over to my bunk and crawled into my lap for no good reason. It was sort of his way. When he was mad at any of us, he'd clam up and then when he was ready to forgive us, he'd find a way to let us know without actually having to say it.


I knew what he was trying to tell me, so I held him and brushed the hair off his beautiful face as we sat in silence. Eventually, we moved from that spot and played a few games together on my XBOX (I totally let him win, by the way) and things were okay between us again, which I was relieved about. I knew that Mikey was everything to Gerard, so for him to hate me was something I couldn't handle. That, and he's also one of my best friends; I love him dearly.


Backtracking for a sec, Toro and Bob had been totally cool with the whole thing. Toro kept squealing like an excited school girl (until he realized we'd been having unprotected sex that night; then, it wasn't pretty) and Bob gave us a cheesy grin accompanied by the thumbs up gesture as he dragged the other two out of there.


Gerard and I basically laughed it off while cursing our rotten luck, even though I was dying inside. He didn't even mention the door that I failed to lock, thank God, because I may have died on the spot. That's all I could think of. He climbed into my lap and gave me a hot, dirty hand job (while pumping himself with his free hand) until we both came shuddering violently in each other's arms.


We sealed it with a mind-blowing kiss before we had to make the Walk of Shame.


Even though these guys are my brothers, it was still fucking embarrassing. Mikey was the worst though. His sarcastic cracks only thinly veiled his disgust (or jealousy, perhaps?) and it made me want to go play in traffic, which would have been more fun at that moment. I could deal with my own humiliation easily enough, (and I could certainly put Mikey in his place) but I knew that Gerard was going to have a tough time with it. As I said before, we're not a mature bunch, to say the least. Now don't get me wrong, the guys were really supportive, but far be it from them to resist teasing us.


I'm fairly certain that they took us for merely the fuck buddies that we appeared to be. Thinking back though, maybe that's all we were? Anyway, they were just clueless, is all, but it halted things between Gerard and I for quite some time. The teasing had worn off fairly quickly, but I think if we really investigated the matter, it all boiled down to Mikey; he was the worst and the most relentless. I know he was struggling with it, which is why I question the nature of their relationship. I know, I'm insane, yet, I still can't shake the feeling that sometimes Mikey harbors feelings for Gerard that exceed 'brotherly.' Sometimes I even think his feelings are reciprocated. Yeah, okay. That's a subject I'd rather not dwell on.


Moving on ...


It was two weeks before Gerard touched me again. Save for our stage performances that were meant to give the audience a hard on for us. Two weeks, three days and if I really work at it, I'm sure I can narrow it down to the exact number of hours or minutes even. Seriously pathetic, I know, but love does crazy things to people, I'll tell ya.


My body literally burned for his touch, and I was fucking miserable. What hurt the worst was that I felt him pulling away. He seemed to avoid any and all situations where the two of us might potentially wind up alone together, and that fucking burned. I could tell it was killing him, but I think he was afraid we might end up on the cover of tabloids or something. I can practically see the headlines now:


"Lead singer for rock band My Chemical Romance caught being fucked into oblivion by one of his band mates. Shocked maid hidden in closet tells all."


Or you know, something like that.


Funny thing is, I wouldn't have cared. I wanted to shout my happiness from the rooftops, but I know that Gerard didn't want to draw any negative attention to the band. I can't blame him for that. You know how gossip is; it spreads like a virus and they'd have Gerard and I married with four adopted children in no time. Rumors amuse the hell out of me sometimes.


It really hurt that Gerard was pulling away, but he tried to make up for it on stage. He'd kiss me more, touch me more; (though it still wasn't the same) he'd whisper things in my hear that I'll never repeat, and ultimately, break my heart.


When we performed, anything went. The audience loved it, but for a while, I grew to hate it. It was based on something real, but it had all turned so ugly that some nights I could hardly cope. Toro had been a Godsend through it all though, because he just knew. I broke down on him a couple of times and he listened, and held me, and promised me that everything would be all right.


When we were up on stage, there was always a deep feeling of absolute dread that gnawed away at my intestines like bad Chinese food.


And then, he'd do it. Never the same way as the time before, so I never knew what to expect. I know that I should have pulled him aside and talked it out, but the sad reality was that at the time, it was our only contact. I hated myself for allowing this to go on, but I just didn't know what to do.


If that wasn't bad enough, the more our fans responded to our stage charades, the worse it got. If there was one thing Gerard loved, it was testing his limits. Once, he even dipped his hand into my pants (briefly, of course) which made the crowd become spastic. Now that was something that I didn't understand.


If something was discovered being done in private, it's automatically labeled a scandal. But if it's done in public, it's widely accepted. I can't wrap my mind around that at all. I bet if we fucked each other blind on the arena floor, it would be chalked up to publicity, or they'd say we just did it for the shock value.


While yes, shocking people is always fun, we choose to do it musically for the most part. I don't think you'll ever see any of us play naked, but I guarantee that we'll leave a lasting impression on you.


Our two-week (proper) touching hiatus finally ended on a pretty explosive level when we had to share a room one night. Looking back though, I think we were set up. In fact, I'm almost sure of it. We were hanging around our hotel in NYC after the VMA's, and before we knew it, Mikey and Toro had passed out on one of the hotel beds. That left Bob, Gee and I to decide who got to occupy the bed we were all laying on, and who got to take the second room. It was Bob who ultimately made that decision though. He stretched out lazily and informed us that if either of us wanted to sleep with him, we were welcome to do so, but that he was far too comfortable to be bothered with moving.


I looked sheepishly over at Gerard, knowing this was going to go either really well, or really badly. The former, I found out quickly enough as he dragged me off in the direction of the unoccupied suite. He handled me roughly, but there was still an underlying sweetness that was typical Gerard. He didn't kiss me that night, which made it feel like nothing more than cheap hotel room sex, and I felt my heart break just that much more every time he withdrew and slammed into me again.


It was all so fucked.


Present day, I don't even know where the hell we stand. He hasn't touched me for the better part of a week, and even when he does, it's mediocre. It's like he's just not into it anymore, and if that's the case, then I need to know. I want to break down and cry right now, because the longer I sit here with him, the more it hurts. When the group is together, it's not so bad, because then we resemble something that could be considered normal.


It's only when we're alone, that things are awkward.


Why am I thinking about all this? I'm not sure. All it's going to serve is to throw me into a depression again. See, I'll go days, or even weeks without thinking about it too much, and when I relapse, the pain creeps back into my heart again, constricting it, until I feel like passing out.


"Penny?" Gerard asks suddenly, handing me a shiny copper coin.


"Huh?" I ask, clearly confused as I roll it between my palms; it was warm.


"For your thoughts," He explains, reaching out to push the hair out of my eyes. "I want to see you" Is what he'd usually say while leaning in to kiss me softly. That doesn't happen. Instead, he pats my knee affectionately and waits for me to answer.


"Oh, uh ... just thinkin' again," I say, which sounds totally stupid, I know, but he caught me off guard.


"You totally fuckin' zoned out on me again, man," Gerard replies as he reaches for my Coke and takes another swallow. When he gulps, I gulp, because he makes this soft little noise that echoes in his throat. The air in the bus feels like it's raised ten degrees as I stare at him; I'm at a total loss.


"Sorry," I say genuinely as my heart aches for me to elaborate; to tell him where my mind was just now, and to know once and for all what resides in that mysterious head of his.


"C'mon, out with it, Frankie," He says, and suddenly, he's shifting closer to me. If there was any air remaining on this bus (which I severely doubt at this point) He's just sucked it all up.


"What's on your mind?"


"Pizza," I stutter, unable to say more as I feel a warm hand on my thigh.


No, Gerard. Don't make me do this. Don't break my fucking heart.


"Pizza, eh?" He asks, his eyes full of concern as his lips set in a firm line.


"Yeah. Something good and greasy," I add listlessly, as I nervously jiggle my knee.


"Frankie," He says, his voice soothing and soft as his fingertips brush my face. I feel a lump rising in my throat as he touches me, and I have to look away.


"I'm okay," I lie, chewing on my lip ring to keep from saying anything else.


"Then why won't you look at me all of a sudden?" He asks, brushing his thumb across my bottom lip.


This is a nightmare. It fucking has to be. I don't want to do this; it's going to end really fucking badly when I tell him that I'm in love with him. You're not supposed to fall in love with your best friends; something always goes wrong. Looking up finally, I can tell my eyes are wet, and that kills. I'm such a fucking girl. I blink a few times, hoping to annihilate the tears, before I allow myself to speak.


Just as I open my mouth, I'm suddenly silenced by a pair of supple lips sliding effortlessly against my own. A myriad of emotions suddenly tear through me as I melt into the kiss. My brain is screaming 'stop!' while my heart is countering it with a heavy dose of 'fuck you,' as he slides his tongue into my mouth.

No, no, no. I can't let this continue. I can't be that guy anymore. This would all be fine and dandy if I wasn't in fucking love with him, but I am, and I can't handle any more casual sex. I want to mean as much to him as he means to me.


"Fuck," I whisper, very reluctantly breaking the kiss as my fingers grip Gerard's cheeks. "Gee, I can't do this anymore," I say, my heart shattering with every word as I press myself into him.


"W-what?" Gerard asks, the confusion written indelibly across his face.


Fuck. He doesn't get it.


"I just ... I fucking can't," I whisper, breaking away from him. So this is it? This is what having a broken heart feels like? I feel weightless and hollow, and I feel like all the air has been siphoned out of my lungs.


"Frankie, I don't understand," He whispers softly, closing in on me once again.


"That's part of the problem," I admit, looking down and wringing my hands in my lap.


"Help me out here," He pleads, reaching for my hands and taking them both into his own. "Please, Frankie. You're starting to scare me," He adds, bringing my hands up to his lips, and kissing the pads of each of my fingertips.


"Yeah, well I'm fucking terrified," I admit, moving to sit up straight, while keeping our fingers locked.


Oh shit, I'm going to do this. I don't want to, but I feel like I owe him this much at least.


"Gerard," I say, my knees shaking as I squeeze his hands. "I just can't do this anymore," I say, and at 'this' I pull one hand free and point back and forth between our bodies. "Us," I choke, struggling very hard not to cry. "And not for the reasons you think," I add quickly as his face falls. For the record, I don't know what the hell he's thinking, but right now would be a great time to find out.


"It's okay; I get it," He says sternly as he balls up his fists. His jaw tightens too, and he looks pretty pissed off. Can this day get any fucking worse?


"No, you don't, Gee," I supply quickly, reaching for his hands as I try to unclench them.


"Yeah, I fuckin' do," He hisses, snatching them away childishly. "It's okay, Frank. We won't do this anymore," He snaps, his voice heavily laced with pain. "If you're not into it, then why the fuck has it taken you this long to say something?" He asks, burying his face in his hands. "Shit," He mumbles, as he rocks back and forth.


"Not into it?" I almost laugh, raising an amused eyebrow at him, though, a lot of good that does me, since he's not looking up. "Jesus, Gerard. You are so fucking clueless," I say, shaking my head in disbelief.


Is he fucking serious?


"Hey," I coax, when he still doesn't look up. "You've got it all fucking wrong," I say, making sure he's listening; I'm only going to do this once. "You want to know why I can't do this anymore? Because I fucking love you, that's why. We can't just be a casual thing, Gee. I want more than that; I want you," I say, feeling my whole body shake as my confession comes tumbling out. "I know you don't feel the same way, but I just want---"


"What?" He pipes up suddenly, cutting me off mid-sentence as his head snaps up. "Frankie, are you insane? How could I not be in love with you?" He asks, as he slides his arms around my shoulders.


"But then why ... " I start, shaking my head as I try to process it all.


"Why what?" He asks, his fingers rubbing at the sensitive skin on the back of my neck.


"Why have you been distancing yourself from me?" I ask, hoping to God he was going to give me an honest answer. "Or haven't you noticed?"


"I don't know," He answers, without missing a beat. Well, at least he's not trying to deny it.


"I don't mean to," He says, leaning forward to brush his lips across my forehead. "I guess, I'm just too fucking reserved for my own good," He adds, reaching out to pull me onto his lap. "Fuck, I'm so sorry," He whispers, burying his face in my neck. "My little Frankie," He says, which is music to my ears as he rocks me softly.


I let out a shaky breath as I lean into his touch, my heart pounding so loudly that I can practically hear it. His lips move from my neck to my ear, as he pants softly. He pauses for a moment, just allowing his lips to linger on my skin, before he speaks.


"I love you, Frankie," He whispers, moving his hands to my face as he leans in to kiss me. "God, I almost fucked this all up," He says, leaning his forehead against mine once we break apart. Suddenly, I'm flooded with so many emotions that I hardly know which one to run with. Or, what to say. It doesn't matter anyway because Gerard is speaking again. "I don't know what I would have done if I lost you," He says, trailing his lips all around my face.


"You'd never lose me," I say finally, pulling back to meet his eyes. "Never," I emphasize, staring hard at his mouth which begs to be kissed again. His lips are lush and full, and whenever he tilts his head I catch a glimpse of tongue which makes me ache to taste him.


"You're too good to be true," He says, a smile lighting up his beautiful face as he buries himself into my neck again, biting gently. A low moan rises deep from the pit of my stomach as I lean into his touch. All my pain and confusion dissolves quickly as his hands move over my skin. They travel up and down my bare arms first, and then, he slides one hand under the hem of my T-shirt and presses it against my stomach.


Oh God, yes.


"Touch me," I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut and allowing the sensation to crash over me. His hands are made for my body; they fit so perfectly. His fingers move in slow, teasing spirals before he begins working my jeans open.


"Oh fuck yeah," I whisper, my words spilling from me in a heated rush. Gerard's skilled fingers manage to get my pants open and in seconds, they are rubbing my erection through my underwear. This goes on for a moment or two, before he withdraws his hand completely and slides it back up again.


Fucking tease.


"Don't stop," I whimper, opening my eyes to meet his amused ones.


"C'mon," He whispers, taking me by the hands and pulling us both to our feet. I don't question his actions, I just follow along as he pulls me towards the bunks. When we reach his, he slips out of his T-shirt and then sheds his pants just as quickly. Soon, he's clad in nothing but a thin pair of boxer-briefs which, as far as I'm concerned, are the root of all evil; he needs to be naked now.


"Now you," He instructs, moving to have a seat on his bed.


I waste absolutely no time stripping, and then in seconds, I'm climbing onto his lap. "These need to come off. Now," I purr, hooking my thumbs into the waistband of his underwear.


Nodding, he scoots backwards and allows me to remove the them before I slide myself up his body. Stretching out, I press myself against him, and I grind our erections together, while I nuzzle his neck. He smells incredible. Like autumn, I realize, and I can't get enough. I detect a hint of smoke, combined with the warmth of his skin, which smells fresh, like he's been playing in the rain.


"Mmm, you smell so good," I tell him, because really, it's intoxicating. I don't even give him a chance to reply to that, because the need to taste him is consuming me. My mouth easily finds his, and I slip my tongue out to gently tease his lips apart. He tastes sugary-sweet, like honey and Coke Zero. I can even detect a hint of peppermint from the gum he'd been chewing earlier. He moans into the kiss, which urges me to deepen it immediately, as I slide my tongue further into his mouth. When the need for oxygen becomes too great, we finally break apart and I collapse against him, panting heavily.


"I missed this," I say, moving to kiss Gerard's shoulder blade. He has the softest skin, which is smooth and pliable under my lips.


"Frankie?" He pipes up suddenly as he tips my face towards his own. "Do you forgive me for begin such a fucking idiot?" He asks, leaning in to rub his nose against mine. His voice cracks slightly, which pulls at my heart strings, because I know he'd never intentionally hurt me.


Things happen, y'know?


"There's nothing to forgive," I say softly as I run my fingers through his hair. I pull away from him slightly, so that I can meet his eyes before I go on. "It's over, okay?" I whisper, as I slide my arms around him and hold him tightly. Sometimes hugs can be even more comforting than kisses, though he'll still get plenty of those. He's shaking, I realize which makes me squeeze even tighter.


"I don't deserve you," He whispers, pressing soft, frantic kisses against my cheek.


"Hey, none of that," I reply as I trace the soft curves of his face with my index finger. "Please don't do this," I plead, pressing my lips against his ear. "I love you, Gerard Arthur Way. We're not going to dwell on the past; we're going to move forward. Things happen; people make mistakes. But, it's over. I'm not going to let you beat yourself up over this," I say, sealing my insistence with a kiss.


He kisses back voraciously, his hands touching and caressing every part of me within reach, as tears begin sliding down his beautiful face. "I love you so much," He chokes out, his chest heaving as he gasps for air.


"Shhh," I whisper, hugging him tightly and stroking his hair. I hold him until he stops trembling, and then I kiss away all his tears. I catch the last one between my lips as it rolls down his face, and then, I spread my thumbs across his cheeks to dry them. His eyes meet mine again, and in them, I can see an amber fire crackling as he rubs his hands up and down my forearms.


"You're amazing," He says between soft kisses, as he rocks himself into me. Our erections (which are still very prominent) rub together to create a delicious friction.


"I know," I tease, as I pepper a trail of kisses up his neck. I can feel his pulse racing beneath the thin skin, as I graze the area with my teeth. He inhales sharply, allowing his head to fall back against the pillows, as he grips his sheets. I know what he wants; and I'm all too happy to give it to him.


I devour his neck for another moment or two, before I begin my journey south. I start with his stomach, allowing my lips and tongue to caress his fleshy belly before I move to spread his shaky thighs. I look up at him for a moment before I go on, because I want to make sure he's watching; I love it when he watches. He is, of course, faced flushed and eyes clouded with lust.


He draws his knees up and parts them even further, which gives me the access that I need. I start by running my warm palms up his inner thighs, my nails digging lightly as I do so. Next, I kiss his stomach, just above his cock, while allowing my fingertips to brush across it. He gasps at this, moaning and writhing beneath me, as I finally take all of him into my mouth. Many have been impressed by the fact that I have no gag reflex, Gerard included. I'm able to take most of his sizable cock into my throat as I begin humming softly.


I work him for a few good minutes, swirling my tongue expertly and pressing it against all the right places, as he arches his back and bucks up into my mouth. He's dangerously close, I can tell, but I don't want this to be over so soon. Reluctantly, I pull off his cock and crawl my way back up his body. He's whimpering and panting, and it looks like I stopped just in time. He's smiling at me now, cheeks flushed and chest heaving; I love him so much.


"Frankie," He whispers, brushing his fingers across my lips as he tries to regulate his breathing. It's a raspy, melodic sound, resulting from far too many years of smoking. I love that sound; it's home to me.


"Yeah?" I ask, draping myself over him like a blanket, as I rub my nose against his. I never thought in a million years that we'd end up here tonight. Everything happens for a reason, right?


"I want you inside me," He says, offering himself up on a silver platter as he spreads his arms and legs. There isn't much space in the tiny bunk, but it's certainly enough, and there's no doubt that either of us want this.


Usually he favors being in control, but sometimes his inner submissive calls the shots.


"Are you sure?" I ask, my voice soft as I push the hair out of his eyes.


To this, he nods, the grin spreading across his face as he reaches for a condom. I honestly don't know where he's produced it from, considering the bunks really are that small, but I decide not to ask questions.



"I don't have any lube though," He says, wincing a bit, and wrinkling up his forehead adorably. That's never stopped us before.


"I'll improvise," I assure him, as I sit back and roll the condom on me.


Nodding, he shifts around until he's comfortable, and spreads his thighs again as far as he can. It still isn't enough though, so I help raise him up until his knees are bent and feet are planted firmly on the bed. Oh yes, this will be much easier. I take a second and kiss each of his kneecaps softly, before I raise one of his legs and rest it on my shoulder.


Next, I insert two fingers into my mouth, coating them liberally with my own saliva, as I move them down between Gerard's legs. I find his entrance easily, and slowly begin pushing into him while I grip his cock with my free hand. I figure the contrast in sensations will at least help alleviate the uncomfortable burning as his body adjusts to the intrusion.


He gasps when I push into him, but it only takes a few minutes for him to relax. I can actually feel it when he does, because his muscles liquefy around my fingers. I wait for another moment or two, still stroking his cock with my left hand, before I move. Slowly, at first, a simple in-and-out motion, and then I change both my pace, and technique. I speed up now, corkscrewing my fingers as I go, when I finally locate his prostate. He makes it quite obvious when I do, because he inhales sharply and arches his back. Again, I brush up against it, holding the count for just a second longer than before, as I withdraw my fingers and do it all over again.


Now, I've talked about how beautiful he is, and how much I love him, but there's one thing I haven't quite touched on yet: the sounds he makes. Oh god, the fucking sounds. At first, it's a light panting, his mouth hanging open and eyes fluttering with every stroke. Then, it's more of a whimper, a soft mewl even, as my fingers continue to stretch and tease. The closer he gets to coming, the more his sounds change. When he's really close, his breathing comes out in rapid pants, and his nails dig little half moon's into whatever body part of mine he can latch onto. Right now, it's my arm, and he's gripping me so tightly, that it feels like my bones might dissolve under his touch.


Slowly, I edge my fingers out, careful not to press into his prostate again as I quickly position my cock. "Take a deep breath," I say, and I wait for him to comply before I enter him. He's nicely stretched now, so I slide in easily as he cries out.


"Are you okay?" I ask, stilling myself as I rub his lower belly.


"Y-yeah," He smiles weakly, his arms falling limply at his sides. "Keep going," He insists, moving to grip the sheets again as I rock into him. He's so blissfully tight, and the sensation is amazing. He is amazing.


"Ohhhh," He whispers, his eyes falling shut as he loses himself to the intense pleasure.


"Gerard," I whisper, snapping him back into reality, and causing him to meet my eyes. "Look at me," I say, smiling softly as I work myself in deeper. I know I'm hitting his prostate again, even though I can't quite tell from feel alone. Tiny beads of sweat are springing up around his hairline, and his eyes are listless and glassy, as if he's anywhere but here at the moment. He's in a beautiful place, and I'm not far behind him.


Suddenly, I ache to be able to kiss and touch him, and I curse myself for picking this position to begin with. "Wait, wait ... " I say, sliding out of him and gently rolling him onto his side. "This is going to be so much better," I whisper into his ear, and kissing up his neck as I settle myself behind him. Gripping my cock, I push into him with ease this time, as I run my warm palms up his back. Much better. Not being able to touch him, is like having an ice cream sundae that you're not able to eat, but to admire rather, as it melts.


That doesn't work for me; I need to touch.


Oh God, this is so much better. I continuously work myself into him as I trail my lips up his back and neck, even down his arms or elbows, as he gasps and writhes.


"Oh ... F-Frank," He stutters, head falling back towards me, which gives me ample access to his supple neck; another of my favorite body parts. Even in this dim lighting, I can see the love bites already forming, vivid crimson against ivory cream. A slow burn starts to simmer in my belly, bubbling comfortably as the heat begins to rise like a thermometer. It's not going to be much longer for me; I can feel it, and I hope Gerard isn't far behind.


I increase both my speed and intensity, rolling my hips and grinding into him with every thrust as I hit his prostate dead-on. I listen as his cries intensify, and I wrap my arms around his hips, closing my fingers around his cock. He whimpers this time, my name hovering on his tongue as both of our releases approach.


"FRANK!" He screams as we come in tandem, with him spilling all over my hand as I plunge into him one last time. My own orgasm is ripped from within me, which zaps pretty much what's left of my energy as I collapse against him. My lips quickly find his neck again, alternating between licking and sucking as we experience complete euphoric bliss.


"Jesus Christ," He pants, turning onto his back and looking up at me.


"Nah, I'm Frank, but I can see how you might confuse the two," I tease, throwing one of our oldest inside jokes at him, as I press my lips against his. They are soft and warm, and now he's parting them to slide his tongue out. I suck on it for a moment or two, relishing it's sweetness, before I bring my hand up to wipe his sweaty forehead.


"I think we just worked off all the calories from the pizza we've yet to eat," He laughs, shifting closer to me as he kisses my chest.


"No shit," I agree, sliding down a bit, so that we're face-to-face. "That was incredible," I whisper, my fingers idly petting his hair as I slip my arms around him. Post-orgasm cuddling has got to be one of my all time favorite things to do. We're both so raw, and exposed; completely unafraid to speak our minds, regardless of consequence.


"The others will be back soon," I somberly point out as I lean my forehead against his. I don't want this to end, but I know it has to. I kiss him once more, and then quickly attempt to sit up, even though breaking apart the last thing I want to do.


"And?" He asks, catching my wrists and pulling me back until I fall (rather ungracefully) back against him.


"Well," I pause. I'm not really sure of how to do this without sounding both needy and expectant. "What would we tell them? I'm sure finding us like this will only fuel their barrage of witty comments," I say, tracing random shapes on his chest with my index finger. I can't bring myself to look at him now, as I feel things beginning to unravel again. It always boiled down to this. This secrecy. In all honesty, I'm not really sure what he's so apprehensive about. I mean, it's not like they don't know now.


"The truth," He answers, speaking softly while brushing his thumb across my lip ring. As he does this, he tips my face up and forces me to meet his eyes.


"The truth, Frankie."


Hmmm, which version, I wonder, as I proceed to skirt around that question.


"Which is?" I ask timidly, as I prepare myself for the sting that's about to come. Why I'm suddenly so pessimistic, I'm not sure. Maybe because I'm a realist? I know how the world works. Even if Gerard does love me, I doubt he's going to be so quick to proclaim it to our band mates.


"That this is real. That it's not the illusion I pretended it was. That I love you," He continues, his eyes shining. "And, that you love me," He says, though it sounds more like a question as he kisses me softly.


God, I love being wrong sometimes. I'm smiling and nodding now, as I settle myself into his open arms. "I do," I whisper, brushing our noses together.


"So, can we consider this official then? No more guessing games? No more broom closets?" He laughs, his cheeks flushing happily.


"Hey now. I happen to like the broom closets! There's something sinister and dirty about them; they remind me of Jersey," I say, kissing the tip of his nose as he grins.


"You're such a hopeless romantic," He teases, reaching out to tickle me playfully, the bastard. I swear he just likes hearing me squeak like a mouse; he knows I'm ticklish.


"Fuck yeah, I am," I reply proudly, kissing him roughly and nipping at his lower lip.


"You didn't answer the question," He points out, pulling away abruptly.


"Which was what exactly?"


Oh yes. I want to hear this.


"Oh God. Are you really going to make me do this? We're not in high school anymore," He mumbles, chewing on his thumb nail.


"We never went to the same high school anyway, Gee. Indulge me here," I reply, curling my calloused fingers around his softer ones.


"Fine," He says, rolling his eyes at me, as his lips twitch. "Frankie, would you be my boyfriend?" He says, his voice raising a few octaves as he does his best school girl impersonation. (It's pretty fucking priceless, for the record.)


Would I? Fuck yeah, I would. Nodding, I smile into yet another kiss as I hear a symphony of familiar voices stepping onto the bus.


"Time to face the music," I say, pulling away and biting my lower lip nervously.


"I never really understood that expression," He replies, looking right into my eyes. "You can't face music. You listen to it. Don't people realize that?" He asks, letting out a breathy giggle as he hugs me tightly. "It's going to be fine," He whispers, his voice warm and reassuring in my ear. "Come on, I have to go show my shiny new boyfriend off to the boys; let 'em know you're off the market," He adds, as we sit up.


It's right at this exact moment that an epiphany of great magnitude suddenly pops into my head.


I, Frank Anthony Iero, finally got what I want.


~*~