My Chemical Romance Fanfiction

It Doesn't Matter If It's Real or Fake

Frerard, smut, 1,699 words
By: GwenCarmicheal

Frank was lost in the adrenaline. 

Truthfully, that was how he spent most shows—lost in the high of the adrenaline, letting his emotions and not his brain control his actions. It was times like this when he would do something crazy—smash Ray with his guitar, grope Gerard. He was just about to move toward Gerard's side of the stage when a sound stopped him. 

It was high pitched and breathy, a broken little moan. A whimper. 

Whipping his head around, he saw Gerard on his knees, hunched around himself, head thrown back, mic pressed to his face to catch every fluttery sound he made. 

Frank was hard, instantly. Fuck, that had to be the hottest thing he had ever heard—or seen. Fuck. 

When Gerard was done, the show continued. Frank was a bit surprised that the world itself hadn't come to an end. His had certainly stopped and then restarted on a wobbly axis. 

It was a bus night, as they headed on to whatever city was next on their list of domination. 

It was also one of those nights where no one wanted to sleep, so they ended up sprawled across the living room area, talking. 

Somehow, conversation turned to the night's stage antics. 

"I thought the entire audience was going to come on the spot when you pulled that stunt," Bob wryly said with a grin. 

Frank nodded, fervently. "It was hot." 

Mikey pulled a face. "Come on! Do you have any idea how gross it feels to hear your brother fake an orgasm on stage?"

Gerard's eyes flashed. "Who said I was faking?"

Frank swallowed. Holy shit. 

"Were you?" Ray was the one to ask the question on everyone's mind. 

Gerard grinned teasingly. "None of your business." 

"No way," Bob said. "No way you sound like that." 

Gerard just flashed that teasing grin. "What are you offering?"

"Absolutely nothing," Bob said quickly. "Who knows where you've been."

Gerard pulled off an offended look for just a moment. "Too bad. Cuz I'm not telling. If you want to know what I sound like, you're going to have to fuck it out of me." 

"Can we please stop talking about this?" Mikey whined, his voice pained. 

"I'll do it."

Four pairs of eyes immediately turned on Frank.

"What?" Ray choked. 

Bob laughed. 

Mikey looked a little sick.

But Gerard… Gerard met Frank's eyes. He smiled. This was a game he could play. 

"You wanna make me come, Frankie?"

Frank's eyes darkened. "I wanna make you scream my name."

"Right here? Right now?"

"No!" Ray cried. "Definitely not here."

Mikey covered his ears, and Bob laughed again. 

Gerard stood up and held out a hand to Frank. "Come on, babe. Guess we're going to have to find somewhere else to go."

Frank wrapped his inked fingers between Gerard's pale ones and let him lead him away. 

"What? You're not serious," Ray protested.