It All Started With Women's Rights -Frerard-

I'm Your Canvas

I flipped through a torn dream book. It had been a couple of days since Gerard had things to do, and I had to visit my grandma. I stopped when I saw the one I was looking for, "If there is a vampire in a dream, that means either the person who is the vampire is addicted to something that is hurting them or that you have something you feel you can't live up to."

"Well, how accurate would you say that is?"

"Uh... pretty accurate."

"Oh?"

"I don't know about the part of you being the, uh, vampire, but I know that I do feel like I'm not hitting marks." I sighed, closing the book and looking up at him.

He gestured to the couch, "Spill,"

"Well," I sat down, feeling myself get nervous, "I guess I just feel... not right? Accomplished? Like my life is going nowhere and fast...? And then there's whatever we are..."

He scooted closer, nodding for me to continue, "Like I feel like I'm not what you want me to be? Like I'm not... good enough..."

His face fell, "Frank, no no, that's not how I feel at all. I can understand how you feel because of age difference, but you're perfect to me. I love how I can be 10 years old with you and make crappy puns, or how we can simply just sit around and talk about things that I could never discuss with someone else! Frank, darling, you're good enough. You're good enough to me."

He had his hands holding mine. I looked up at him with a sorry smile. He made a sound, leaned in, pressed his lips to my forehead, and wrapped his arms around me, "Forget what anyone else says, Frank. The only thing those kids know is, is how to be the same. Being different from them is amazing. Imagine if you were like them. You'd be... you'd be miserable! You'd have friends, but at what cost? A lifetime of sadness? No chance to live your life to the fullest? Frank Anthony Iero, you are beautiful, talented, skilled, and a damn good kisser. You are enough. More than enough in my eyes."

"Dammit, Gerard," I said into his shoulder, "You're gonna make me cry."

He pulled away, "Sorry, hon... Think I proved my point?"

I nodded, smiling, "More than enough."

"And that's exactly what you are," he leaned in, hesitant, "is it okay if I...?"

I smiled, looking at his blushing face. He was so beautiful and cute and hot at the same time. It was so unfair. He's denied my claims before saying I was more so. But I believed it. I saw a twinkle in his eye and chuckled, "Yes you can."

He grazed his lips against mine, teasing me at first, and then kissing me full on. His lips were always warm and soft. It seemed so familiar yet so foreign. Maybe it was because I hadn't kissed them enough. I was gonna change that. Even if I had to ask everyday. He moved, trying to get me to that position on that one night where I had snuck over, but I had other plans. I rose slightly, telling him that I was going to do something. I slid my hands out from his, grabbed his wrists, and with a quick movement, I had him pinned. He looked up at me, his long hair slightly in his face and spread out around him like a dark halo. His cheeks were red and his lips wet and raw.

"Frank," he whispered.

I bent down, kissing him again. I loosened my grip on him, I wound my fingers with his. I was kissing him hard now, and from the feeling I was getting from him (and not to mention noises), he seemed fine with it. He poked his tongue at my lip, asking for entry. I obliged, glad to have the opportunity. I must've been good at whatever the hell was doing, because he squeezed my hands, making an 'mmm' sound.

I broke away, happy to see the horny mess under me that I had caused. He was breathing heavily, "Fuck, Frank..."

I smiled, removing one of my hands from his to brush hair out of his face, "You're beautiful."

"That's what you keep saying." He smiled.

"That's cause it's true." I gave him one last peck on the lips before getting off of him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him smirk, and before I knew what hit me, I was being pinned. I laughed, like this was a game. If it was, I (and my dick) really liked it. I thought he was gonna kiss me, but I was wrong. But, it was a good wrong. He pressed his lips to my neck, kissing it softly at first and then sucking. I felt my whole body tense and other things rise to the occasion. He kissed along my jawline, making me tip my head back. I was so desperately trying not to moan, but I miserably failed. He found a spot on my neck that was too high up to cover and too low to be hidden in my hair. He sucked, I moaned, and my skin bruised. He licked my neck like vampire him had done in my dream. Needless to say, these noises from me couldn't be controlled. He stopped, smirking at me. I was a mess. A horny mess.

"Is- is that all you g-got?" I breathed, smirking back.

"Challenge accepted,"

He let go of one of my wrists and started to fucking choke me. But not only did he just do that, but he bit at the other side of my neck he hadn't touched. My free hand gripped at his shirt sleeve, "G-Gerard, please, oh please, st-stop..."

He did, thank god. He got up off of me and I yanked down my shirt, even though it was obvious. He smiled, innocently, "Does that mean I win?"

I rubbed at my wet neck, "You owned me..."

"In more ways than one." He said, pointing to a specific area in my neck, "It's already bruising."

"One of these days you're gonna get me in trouble." I sighed.

...

"Frank, you've got something on your neck." My mom pointed out as soon as I walked through the door.

"Yeah, I know." I said, trying to get to my room.

I heard whatever she had in her hands get set down, as she looked up at me, "Did... he give you a...?"

I shrugged, running upstairs. I heard her call out to me, but I kept going. She gave up with a loud sigh and a clang of something. I locked my door and sighed, leaning against it. I threw myself into my bed face first and just laid there. I heard a small knock at the door and something being set down.

I opened my door to see a small bottle of concealer. I picked it up, reading the label, and smiled. It was what my mom used. If she wasn't gonna tell me off, she was gonna help me so Dad didn't.

One of the many reasons I loved the woman.

I decided to cover them all up then the best I could before my dad got back home. It was like covering up a painting. It felt strange to do. Not because I was wearing makeup, I do that anyway, but because someone had left a color on me. Like it was their painting and wanted to let the world know that I was their canvas.

Wow, I'm sappy...