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Give 'Em Hell, Kid.

A Taste of Chaos

I wouldn't front the scene if you paid me

Bob (favorite)

So give me all your poison, and give me all your pills. And give me all your hopeless hearts and make me ill.You're running after something that you'll never kill. If this is what you want, then fire at will.

A Taste of Chaos

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Frank
Title: A Taste of Chaos [Standalone]
Pairing: Frank Iero/Bob Bryar
Rating: NC-17
POV: Third
Summary: This fic is havily based on something I read over at chemicalromance a while back, though I can't find the entry for reference. The gist is that at one of the Black Parade shows, some guy (a fan, it's presumed) hopped up on stage and was going for Frank. They caught him before anything happened, but who knows what he was going to do. Anyway--that's what this story is based on. It's just something I've had in my mind, and I finally got around to writing it. :)
Disclaimer: This is partially a work of fiction, though based on a real event. I own nothing but the words, and Bob and Frank hopefully own each other. ♥






A Taste of Chaos




"Bob!" Frank shouts, as he rushes at their drummer and hops onto his lap. "It's okay; I'm okay," he promises, as he pins Bob to the kit in a strangled effort to keep him from killing someone. It was a fan of sorts, who thought it might be funny to drag himself on stage and lunge at Frank. It's happened before -- crazed fans scaling the barrier and crawling onto the stage -- but never like this. Admittedly Frank had been a bit scared. This guy (who was old enough to be Frank's father) looked exceptionally creepy, and he was staring at Frank like he might want to eat him, rather than the multitude of other the other things he could have possibly wanted.



Frank had never seen Bob react so quickly. In fact, Bob narrowly missed knocking his kit over in an a failed attempt at retaliation. Thankfully Ray had been standing nearby, and was able to reach out and steady it before it toppled. That's also right about when Frank pounced, before Bob had a chance to get very far. Frank knew if Bob had gotten a hold of the guy, he they would have been facing a serious lawsuit.



The whole chaotic mess was over in a flash, but Frank's heart is still beating wildly in his chest. One minute this guy was staring at him lewdly, and the next, he was far too close for comfort. Frank knows he wasn't in any real danger, but the whole situation is still unsettling to say the least. It's over now though, and he's curled up in Bob's lap, where he's always felt safest.



Before the show continues, Gerard tries to make light things of it by cracking a joke in reference to the guy wanting Frank's 'sweet ass.' That doesn't help matters in the least. If anything, it presents Bob with a brand new problem: strangling their frontman. They can easily replace Gerard, he reasons in his head. Maybe Patrick can be loaned out on a monthly basis or something. Hell, Frank can sing right? Bob is still absolutely livid, even though the old geezer had already been hauled off stage, and hopefully arrested. Or decapitated. Better yet, water tortured, and then hacked to pieces with ninja swords! The ideas are zipping through Bob's brain so fast that he barely registers the fact that Frank is speaking to him.



"Hey," Frank is saying, while patting Bob's cheek gently. "It's all over now, so just try to relax, okay?" he smiles, and curls an arm around Bob's neck. The storm has seemed to pass, though Frank knows that Bob's temper is volcanic and has the potential to erupt again without warning.



"I'm trying," Bob hisses through gritted teeth, though notably he wraps an arm around Frank's waist. For stabilization, he reasons to himself, even though he knows better. "I was ready to kill that motherfucker," he adds, softly this time, while leaning his forehead against Frank's shoulder.



"My hero," Frank beams, and bends to kiss the top of Bob's sweaty blonde head. Bob knows he's blushing, but thankfully it's too dark in the arena for anyone to notice. "C'mon," Frank says, when he realizes that Gerard has stopped speaking, and is staring at them intently. "Gee is about to have a diva bitch fit, and no one wants that," Frank snorts, as he slides off, and gives Bob's hand a gentle squeeze. "Back to work!" he smiles, as he picks up his estranged guitar, and slips the strap over his head.



~*~



The rest of the show proceeds without any further incident, and now they're all relaxing backstage. Or trying to anyway, since they're all still riding out the post-concert adrenaline. Bob hasn't said much since the show ended, but then again, Bob can easily go for days without speaking. His silence worries Frank though, because Frank knows him better than anyone else does. He is even able to distinguish Bob's various types of silences. This isn't comfortable silence, and Frank hates that.



"What a fuckin' night, huh?" Gerard muses idly, while popping the tab on his third Red Bull of the evening.



"No shit," Frank giggles, turning his head to face Gerard and flipping him off playfully. "At least you weren't the one who practically got molested on stage," he adds, though immediately regretting his words as the knowing smirk etches across Gerard's face.



"You should be used to that," Gerard hisses right on cue, as Frank flips him off with both hands this time.



"Can we just stop talking about it already?" Bob snaps, rising from his previous spot on the floor, and angrily tossing the Wii controller.



Gerard's eyes widen considerably, but he exercises his right to remain silent. Reaching for one of his comic books, he sinks further into the couch, and pretends to read; he knows better than to mess with Bob. Especially when Bob still looks like he might kill someone, and hey, Gerard isn't about to press his luck.



Ray and Mikey are busy raiding their dwindling food supply, so that just narrows it back down to Bob and Frank.



Frank is curled up on the far end of the couch that Gerard is sitting on, and Bob is busy pacing the room since he doesn't know what else to do. "I seriously should have killed that fucker," he grunts, just before falling onto a nearby love seat and fidgeting nervously.



Never being one to pass up a good opportunity, Frank quickly hops up from where he's seated, and deposits himself onto Bob's lap. "Dude. Do you really wanna find out what happens to guys like you in prison?" he teases, while reaching out to ruffle Bob's hair playfully. It's a move that only Frank can get away with, but he's rather proud of that.



"I would have been willing to take my chances," Bob answers flatly, while simultaneously swatting Frank's hand away. "He could have hurt you." Bob's face remains stoic, but Frank can hear the lingering panic in his friend's voice.



"You wouldn't have let him," Frank counters quickly, as he settles comfortably against Bob's chest.



True enough.



"Still. He could have had a gun or something. Coulda blown your pretty face right off," Bob continues, as he presses two fingers against Frank's temple for effect.



"You think I'm pretty?" Frank beams, missing the point entirely as he tips his face up to meet Bob's eyes.



"Well, ... yeah," Bob mutters, as he feels the color rise in his cheeks, "but he could have hurt you, Frank." Bob is pretty sure he's not going to get out of this one, so he sighs softly and waits.



"You think I'm pretty!" Frank repeats hyperactively as he sits up and pokes Bob playfully in the chest. "You think I'm gorgeous, you wanna kiss me; you wanna hug me -- " Frank singsongs, but he's stopped short by Bob's hand being clapped over his mouth.



"Lay off the Miss Congeniality, kiddo."



"It's true though! You want me bad, Bryar," Frank smirks, once he pries Bob's hand away, and presses his nose to Bob's. No one else seems to be paying them any particular attention since Gerard is now passed out behind his comic, and Mikey and Ray have fluttered off to ... well, somewhere. The adjoining dressing room, Frank figures, since the door is cracked open.



"Is that so?" Bob fires back, the heat still suffusing his cheeks as he rests a shaky hand on Frank's thigh.



"I was kinda hoping," Frank answers honestly, as he reaches out to trace Bob's lower lip with his thumb. The skin is supple to Frank's touch, and all he can think about is how much better it would feel against his mouth.



"Really?" Bob's shock is conveyed clearly through shining Aquamarine eyes, as he parts his lips and gently sucks on the pad of Frank's thumb.



"Yeah," Frank nods, his voice barely a whisper as he feels the blood rush straight to his groin. "You're pretty oblivious, you know that?" he adds softly, as Bob pulls off his thumb, and leans in close.



"Oh, Am I?" Bob challenges, his warm breath ghosting across Frank's mouth, which is now way too close for comfort.



"Bob, if you don't fucking kiss me in the next two seconds, I'm gonna go find someone who will," Frank threatens, though it holds no real weight since his smile lights up the entire room.



"Hey, how come I have to kiss you? Why can't you kiss me?" Bob grins against Frank's lips as he feels Frank start to move beneath him.



"Hey Gerard! You'll make out with -- " Gerard doesn't stir, and Frank doesn't get to finish his sentence since he's quickly silenced by the smooth slide of Bob's lips against his own. They're slightly chapped, but Frank is wearing lip balm, so hey, he's totally helping here right? The hand on his thigh moves steadily upward as they kiss, and in seconds, they're making out like teenagers on prom night. Bob has his hands tangled in Frank's hair, and Frank is whimpering against Bob's lips, and slipping a hand between Bob's spread knees.



"Is that for me?" he whispers playfully, while rubbing at the growing bulge in Bob's shorts. Bob can only nod, as Frank's hand glides under his waistband and makes contact with his heated skin. He wastes no time wrapping his fingers around Bob's dick, as Bob inadvertently moans Frank's name. His cheeks are ablaze again, he can feel it, but he can't make himself care. Frank is touching him in ways that up until now, remained only in Bob's wettest dreams.



The closer Bob gets to orgasm, the quieter he becomes. Soon, his eyes slip closed as he grips Frank's hair and uses it as leverage to guide their mouths together again. It only takes a couple more jerks, before he's coming silently, and spilling into Frank's hand. "Fuck," he huffs, just as Frank parts his lips with his tongue and kisses him good and slow.



"See what oblivion has caused you to miss out on?" Frank grins a moment later when they pull apart. He's got nothing to wipe his hand on, but Frank is a resourceful guy. Bringing his messy fingers to his lips, he makes quite a show of sucking them clean as Bob watches.



"Jesus that's hot," Bob growls, as he expertly flips Frank off his lap, and sets him onto the empty space next to him. "Lay back," he instructs, while sliding to the ground, and settling between Frank's thighs. He wastes no time shoving them apart, and working Frank's jeans open to expose his massive erection. Bob could feel it pressing into his stomach before, and it was all he could to not to shove Frank against the nearest flat surface and fuck the breath right out of him. No, with Gerard asleep less than five feet away, and his nosey bandmates in the other room, Bob takes the most discreet route for now. However, he makes several mental notes that involve Frank, leather restraints, and the rickety bed back in their hotel room.



Admittedly, Bob has never done this before. He's never sucked cock, but he's about to make Frank his first. If he's really honest, Frank is also the first guy he's ever kissed. Well, aside from one particular incident when Ray drunkenly thought he was someone else. Bob still has no clue who Ray thought he was, but their tongue contact was thankfully brief. Bob still shudders at the memory, because Ray is like a brother to him.



As his mouth glides down the length of Frank's cock, Bob suddenly remembers just why he's never sucked dick before. He's always been afraid he might gag. In college, he both gave and received his fair share of drunken hand jobs, but it wasn't ever more than that. No romance; no kissing, just getting each other off and moving on.



"Fuck yeah, just like that," Frank encourages, as he slides his calloused fingers into Bob's hair and tugs gently. Bob wants to tell him to pull harder, but he can't very well talk around a mouthful of dick. Instead, he takes Frank's cues and sucks slow, and deep, while willing his throat muscles to properly cooperate. It's good he thinks, and if the noises that Frank makes are any indication, the entire arena is about to find out just how good. Thankfully there's loud music coming from next door, and Gerard's snoring continues to hum it's familiar tune.



"Jesus, Bob," Frank moans, as he arches his hips and tries hard not to blatantly fuck Bob's mouth. "Nnnghhh, can you ... " he trails off because ohhh, Bob pulls off slightly so that his teeth scrape against Frank's sensitive flesh. Whatever Frank might have requested is now lost in the marshmallow fluff that's replaced his brain.



A sudden thought plagues him, as tiny warning bells begin to sound in Bob's mind. Is Frank going to come in his mouth? He's finally gotten used to the foreign sensation of having cock pressed against the soft palate of his throat, but swallowing come? Oh, man. He's pretty sure he's not going to get much of a choice on this one, but how bad can it be? It's Frank, and in that split second, Bob decides that he wants Frank to. If he's doing this, he's going to do it right.



Frank is close; Bob can tell because the grip has tightened on his hair, and Frank's knees are pressed so hard against Bob's ears, that he can hear the rapid thrum of his own pulse. Oh, he's totally gonna do this. Switching gears slightly, he pulls off Frank's cock again long enough to swirl his tongue around the head, and then swallow it deeply with encouraging suction. His cheeks are starting to vibrate from the motion, and he can feel the blood pulsing through Frank's dick. It's an interesting sensation, though not an unpleasant one he realizes, as Frank begins whimpering his name again.



"Fuck, Bob ... Bob. I'm gonna ... " he warns, but Bob is good; he can do this, and to prove his point, he sucks harder, and faster, while wrapping one hand tightly around the base of Frank's dick, and using the other to rub at the exposed skin of Frank's belly.



In seconds, Frank is coming frantically, while biting down on his lip to keep from waking the dead. Bob swallows a lot easier than he thought he would have, and continues to suck Frank off until his dick begins to soften. The fingers in his hair are now massaging gently, as Frank slowly returns back to planet Earth.



When Frank goes completely soft, Bob pulls off slowly, and looks up to meet Frank's impressed gaze. "I stand corrected. Apparently I was the one who was missing out all this time," he laughs as Bob tucks him back into his pants and zips him up carefully.



"It's always the quiet ones you gotta watch out for," Gerard mumbles as he turns over and pulls the hood of his jacket over his face. "Next time, would you two get a room, please? I don't need to have nightmares about this shit," he snaps, as he ties to get comfortable again.



"We have a room," Frank winks suggestively as he hops up, and helps pull Bob to his feet.



Bob catches on quick, as he tugs his shirt down, and makes himself as presentable as possible. "Last one there has to be the bitch," he teases, as he makes a beeline from the dressing room door.



Frank takes his sweet time.



~*~
  • .......

    "*BEEP* Katie is not available to comment right now. She is currently a hot mess convulsing on the floor, probably in reference to an extremely badass fanfic she has just read. She will be back when she has regained her mental facilities. Thanks for your patience. *BEEP*" XD

    And Frank doing the Miss Congeniality bit will NEVER get old :D ;) <33333
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