Cutting Edge (Frerard)

32

Gerard.
•

So first he mentions being in a band.

Now we are seconds away from being naked.

Okay. Normal.

We were kissed for what seemed like hours until Frank's phone continuously rang, a loud ass song rumbling the table as it rang.

He ignored it until it stopped and continued to make out profusely with me and keep his hands inside my boxers, he better just be keeping them warm.  I'm a loud moaner.

He kissed down my neck and left a few very, very prominent hickeys on my collar.

He sat up clearly impressed by the marks and kissed me roughly on the lips, touching me all over again.

Why did I love this so, so fucking much?

-

After we finished our 'business' Frank was sitting at the end of his bed, guitar on hands as usual, playing patters and chords.

"Gee. Sing for me."

"What?" I looked up from my nearly finished drawing of him.

"Sing, please. Anything just sing."

"U-uhm.. Green day?"

"Of course Gee. I said anything."

Everything went silent. I can't fuck this up.

" Dawning of a new era
Calling, don't let it catch you f-falling
Ready or n-not at all
So close enough to taste it
Almost, I can embrace this
F-Feeling, on the tip of my t-tongue

I'm so much closer than
I h-have ever known
Wake up
Better thank y-your lucky stars.."

Frank came and sat next to me and pulled my chin into a kiss.
"That? That was fucking beautiful. If you worked out some of the stutters. That would've been more perfect than it already was."

"Thanks Frankie.. I have my own songs but I've forgotten most of them. The were all shit anyway." I sighed. I'll never be able to sing beautifully, I don't know what Frank was talking about.

"I doubt that." He shuffled over to his guitar again and told me to start singing. Again and again until my stuttering was completely gone. Different songs, he could play them all.

He was so talented, I wonder what he's trying to achieve by making me sing.

It's not like I'm good or anything.