Learning How To Swim (Frerard)

7. This Chapter Contains A Very Graphic Masturbation Scene Enjoy

Gerard was scribbling in his notebook when he got a call.

He was cross-legged on his bed, sketching a picture of a certain someone he'd had dinner with last night. It was almost annoying, how Frank's face was the perfect thing to draw. The structure of his face was just right, his cheekbones elegant and his lips the perfect shape for Gerard's pencil to sketch. He was working on Franks eyes, his gorgeous eyes, when he heard the soft ring of the house phone from the living room.

He wasn't all that concerned, his grandmother got calls all the time from friends at the lake, telemarketers, and other family members. He heard his grandmother's slipper-clad feet shuffle across the carpet that Gerard was pretty sure was from the 60's, and pick up the phone. He went back to his sketching, not really keen on listening to his grandmother's conversations.

"Oh god, oh dear, yes, yes I'll tell him. Thank you, God bless." His grandmother hung up the phone, and he heard her walking towards his bedroom. She pulled the door open, Gerard lifting his head and shoving his sketchbook behind him so his grandmother wouldn't see the creepy drawing of a cute boy he met a few days ago.

"Gerard, that was a boy named Patrick, very nice boy, indeed. He said he want you to come to your boyfriend's house immediately, it's apparently an emergency." She said, each word causing Gerard's heart to beat faster until it felt like his chest was going to explode. From the tone of voice his grandmother was using, he could only assume the worst.

"Okay Grandma, see you later." Gerard said quickly, running out the back door in only an old, faded band shirt and shorts. He ran across the lawn, tripping on his feet more than he would've wanted to, because Gerard Way is a smooth motherfucker.

His thoughts were racing, and perhaps they were racing too fast but he couldn't get the thought out of his head that Frank had gotten hurt or hurt himself, and fucking Christ he was panicking too much over someone he had only met a few days ago and fuck, it was too much.

He got into the shitty boat his grandmother has had since like 1956 or something and he tried to make it go as fast as he could, because Frank might not have been okay and if Frank wasn't okay then Gerard wouldn't be okay and fuck. Gerard barely had time to park the boat at the dock before he scrambled like a crazy cat or something onto the grass and sprinted to Frank's door and he was digging himself a hole here but he couldn't get out of it because it was Frank.

He didn't even knock on the door before practically falling inside and seeing Patrick standing there with the phone still in his hand and Frank nowhere inside. "Where's Frank?" Gerard gasped through his coughing because of lack of exercise and just overall sucking at life in general. Patrick looked over at him, reaching for his watch and pressing the stopwatch button, much to Gerard's confusion.

"One minute and fifty-seven seconds. You lose, Iero." Patrick said, looking into the kitchen to Frank, whom was apparently standing there drinking a Capri sun. "Damn, seriously thought it would take longer." The tattooed boy made his way out of the kitchen, shirtless and unscathed. Gerard was honestly so fucking confused right now because nothing made sense and he was starting to get a fucking headache.

"Wait, what the fuck is going on here?" He asked the two boys stood in front of him, only one of whom who looked the slightest bit guilty, and it wasn't the one you would expect to regret something like this. Patrick answered Gerard's question before Frank could say anything.

"We were talking, and I guessed that if Frankie was in trouble and you found out, you would be here within two minutes, and Frankie here guessed that it would take more than two minutes. So we kinda staged thing to see who was right. Sorry if you got freaked out."