12: Gerard Way, Flaming Homosexual

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"Awake huh, are we pretty boy?" Gerard let a chuckle pass his lips as he gave Frank's sleeping form - currently occupying his bed, a gentle shove. The boy groaned into the pillow as a result of the impact, shaking his head firmly and turning over in the hopes of just going back to bed.

"No, Frankie, come on, you're going to get up now." Gerard shook his head, pushing his hair back from his face and sitting down, almost awkwardly beside the sleeping body, giving him another a shove - another shove Frank solely ignored. "You're going to ignore me, huh? You're going to be a naughty boy and ignore your master, are you?"

Frank, of course, sat up almost instantly at that, just a little shocked and very aroused, his eyes open wide and full of lust, dark and needing Gerard in far few clothes than he was in now. "No, master, I-I'll be good."

Gerard bit down on his bottom lip hard, because oh fuck, Frank was just so easy, so fucking obedient, and so fucking beautiful - this was all just being handed to him; he didn't even have to try. "You don't have to call me that when we're not fucking, you know, Frank. I was just teasing- well, I kind of wanted to see just how well that would work, and trust me I'm rather delighted with the results."

"What if I want to call you that, though, master?" Frank gave way to a blush as he pulled himself onto Gerard's lap, nuzzling into his black shirt clad torso, gesturing for him to remove them of such clothing related complications.

"Not in public, Frankie." He exhaled, running his fingers through Frank's hair, as Gerard came to realise that perhaps when it came to making Frank Iero his own, all the work had indeed already been done for him - how considerate was that, huh? "Not yet, anyway."

"What does that mean?" Frank asked, getting up and pulling on his shirt from the floor.

"You can borrow some of my stuff, if you want." Gerard added, stopping Frank with the shirt half lifted over his head, and totally not staring at his stretched out, exposed, and tattooed torso. "I have a few things in the closet."

"What does that mean?" Frank repeated after a few seconds of silence, which passed as Frank discarded his shirt for the second time and pulled open the closet, grabbing the first shirt he saw, and a pair of jeans, that probably would bunch on his little fucking midget legs enough for him to conceal stilts under them.

"It means that maybe I like you, Iero." Gerard paused, gasping just a little as the nineteen year old pulled the very tight pair of skinny, emphasis on the skinny, jeans on. "Maybe I like you, and maybe I like you more than I'm supposed to."

"And what does that mean?" Frank continued, smirking just a little at the gasp he heard from the boy sat on the bed, making no secret out of the fact that he was biding his time away by admiring Frank's ass. "Or are you too distracted by my ass to answer, Mr Way?"

"Fuck, don't ever fucking stop calling me that." Gerard exclaimed, getting up from the bed and slinging his arms around Frank's neck. "You're so fucking pretty, Frank, you know that? Maybe I'm not supposed to find people like you so fucking pretty."

"What do you mean by that? Boys? Guys? Because you're seriously a flaming homosexual, Gerard." Frank sighed, rolling his eyes as he turned back to face the vampire.

"Humans." He finished, leaving the two of them to just deal with the silence that followed, because really, it was far too easy to just forget about and to just ignore the complications that surrounded the two of them throughout every step they took, but things like these - the little reminders, they made it far too real, all again.

"So I'm just some little fucking secret- some fuck toy, and this is never going to be anything, and what? Do you have a real vampire boyfriend or something? How much do you fuck around? How much will hurt me? How right was everyone else - tell me, Gerard."

Antichrist (Frerard)Where stories live. Discover now