Tell Me I'm A Bad Man [Teacher/Student Frerard]

Twenty-six - You're The One That I Need

"Babe, where -" I walked into the bedroom and froze, my eyes widening. My jaw dropped, and I swore I was going to faint or something at what I saw.

I can't leave Gerard alone for five minutes, can I?

He looked at me through the mirror, biting his lower lip in a bashful way. Like he knew he got caught doing something he shouldn't, but at the same time he knew that the consequences of this would be good. Well, they probably would, seeing as he was wearing the stockings, corset and panties that I wore yesterday.

They looked so much better on him, the creamy exposed skin of his upper thighs looking nothing short of tempting, and the fishnet pulled tight against his legs. He was older, taller, his muscles more defined, so it held the fishnet in a way that my skinny legs didn't. It was flawless, in a breathtaking way. He looked really quite feminine in that corset, the black and gold drawing my eyes over his entire body. That, combined with his haunting eyes and his long lashes, he looked so fucking pretty. And his ass...

Oh my God, my boyfriend makes me explode sometimes.

We'd only been at his for about half an hour, after the best bath and sleep I'd ever had, and it was early evening. We both had school tomorrow, but I'd go home later. I'd just gone downstairs to make coffee, and I'd come back to...this. In all honesty, I'd kind of expected it a little, but I just thought it would be some kind of planned thing, like he and I yesterday. Not me walking on him trying it on just because he could.

Then I had an idea. I wasn't going to let this moment pass without it being documented in some way, either for some kind of sexual thing or his embarrassment. I remembered my camera, which I'd taken with me this weekend. I'd taken a few pictures of him already, of him sleeping and sketching and laughing, but this was something else entirely. This was private. This was for our eyes only, and, like his drawing, we couldn't show anyone.

"Don't move." I said quietly, hurrying over to my bag and pulling out my camera. It was the last thing my dad had ever bought me, and it meant as much to me as my guitar did. Photography and music were two of the only things I was actually decent at. "Just hold it there." I took the lens cap off, turning the camera on and putting it to my eye. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was amazing. I looked through it at Gerard, my beautiful art teacher boyfriend, and I pressed the button to take the picture. "Place your right hand on your thigh." He did so, running the index finger of his left hand over his lower lip, and I took another picture.

Oh fuck, he looked amazing. He didn't just wear that outfit - he owned it. It should've been ridiculous, and to anyone else who didn't understand the way we worked, it would've been weird; it was borderline cross-dressing, but screw it. Nobody else had to know. Just Gerard and I, and nobody else.

"Are you taking photos of me, Frankie?" He smirked, and I nodded.

"If you can draw me when I'm naked, I can take photos of you when you're dressed like this."

He placed his left hand on his face, leaning into the palm, his eyes closing and his lips parting. His right hand moved further up his thigh, his leg lifting a little so he was resting it on the ball of his foot. The movement made his legs seem longer than they were, and it was driving me insane.

"My God, you're such a poser..." I whispered, taking a few more photos. He was - he knew that the camera was on him and he was taking advantage of it.

I would've thought that, by the way he sometimes carried himself, he would be intensely shy and self-conscious, hiding from the camera or protesting against it. But he was a natural. He didn't seem to care about his lack of self-confidence, and that made me like him so much more. I wanted to show him how beautiful he really was, and maybe this was the way to do it. He wasn't just beautiful, though - he was perfect.