info: Frank Iero is definitely not in love with Gerard Way. Frank Iero is definitely not writing vent poetry wishing Gerard wasn't such an enigma. Frank definitely doesn't publish his writing online under the pseudonym of F.T. Willz. Gerard becomes a fan of the poems he has no clue are all about him. Hell, Gerard never notices the way Frank is always manically, tearfully, and furiously writing in his notebook. Why would he ever notice Frank anyways? It's not like they'd ever agreed on a label for what they were so why would Frank care?
Spanning from approximately 2002-2007, this story is told in non-chronological order.
additional info: In this fic, Gerard is a transman several years into his medical transition and has undergone HRT and top-surgery long before the majority of the story takes place. [Author is a transman who has undergone the same medical transition as Gerard.]
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Chapter One: Frank — October, 2005
Halfheartedly strumming my guitar as I sat on one of the couches inside MyChem's tour bus, I pretended to not be staring at Gerard as he was drawing. Mikey, Ray and Bob all pretended to not notice my eyes burning holes into the back of his skull. Burning with what exactly? Lust? Rage? Love? Resentment? Hatred? Perhaps the answer was all of the above... Or perhaps I just wished he would notice me the same way that I could never help but notice him. Just once.
"Hey, Frankie?" That voice could shake me out of a coma.
"Yeah?"
"I've got this character for my comic. He's kinda like you- well, actually, he's inspired by you."
"Is he a total dickhead?" Bob joked in that way only he could get away with in our unspoken bond of bitterly hating the world together.
"That's real sweet, Bob." Ray rolled his eyes.
"Well, okay so he doesn't have a name right now really just 'The Boy' or 'Number Five'. He can time travel and go to other timelines and shit. He's an old man trapped in the body of a teenage boy. He's basically the one that saves everyone from the end of the world over and over again."
"How's that like me?"
"Oh, time travel made him very world-weary and disillusioned. He knows the end of everything and the ending is always bleak and so he sorta is constantly tryna change how things turn out so that the world doesn't end."
"Damn, Gee! That's some seriously poetic shit!" I exclaimed in earnest.
I'd be lying through my nicotine-stained teeth if I were to say that I hadn't been hoping that he saw this character so heavily inspired by me largely in part due to the glaringly obvious parallels between Number Five saving the world from the apocalypse and all the years I had spent saving Gerard from himself time and time again. But he didn't elaborate.
Sure, in front of the people he deemed 'safe', Gerard would openly hold my hand, kiss me and at times would be all over me almost as if he forgot that we weren't alone in our own little world together. Everyone in the scene knew or sure as fuck had their suspicions for years that Gerard and I fucked.
Gerard and I would go out to shitty diners that felt like home. Sure, he often held doors open for me and showed chivalry towards me. We kissed. We held hands. We fucked. We went on outings that in any other context and dynamic would inarguably be considered dates with one another. We said we loved each other frequently enough (Gerard often moaned out a seemingly meaningful 'I love you' right before cumming hard around my cock.) We spent more nights sharing a cramped bunk on the bus, naked and panting as we came down from the high of our mutual orgasms. We fell asleep in each other's arms more often than not.
But that surface level was all it ever was, or at least that seemed to be the case for Gerard. We weren't boyfriends, partners, or dating. We were bandmates. Friends. Never anything more.
But it wasn't always like this.
It didn't start out this way and it, for better or for worse, most certainly did not end this way.
Absentmindedly tuning my guitar while lost in thought staring at the beauty, wonder and complete enigma of the lead vocalist, I didn't even flinch or look away from him when I felt the razor-sharp lashing sting of an over-tuned guitar string snapping apart and leaving my blood-soaked wrist in its wake, just barely shallow enough to not require stitches. I smiled and laughed despite myself.
"Fuck dude, be more careful with how enthusiastically you're tuning that shit, Frankie! What the fuck are you smiling about, man? — You could have accidentally killed yourself if that was any deeper!" His voice was frantic and worried sick as he finally decided to properly act like I existed in his world in the slightest.
"Pain is just a reminder that I'm still alive and real; that any of this is real at all."
"Are you okay? You're starting to make me worry, Frankie."
"I'm fine," I lied effortlessly as I had for all the years we'd known each other.
He pretended to believe me.
I swear to fucking God, it wasn't always this way.
Frank got up early, like asscrack of dawn early, the mattress dipping just enough for Gerard to groan and curl toward the warm spot Frank left behind. Ink-covered fists rolled over his eyes before he glanced back down to his roommate, drooling on Frank's pillow.
Last day off, and Frank figured Gee should spend it doing literally anything besides sticking to him like a goddamn barnacle under the docks, so he moved carefully so he wouldn't wake.
He thought slipping him a twenty for the electric bill would get him off his ass.
Nope. The only moment Frank got to breathe was when Gerard sent him to the bodega for cigarettes or when someone called needing a dime bag—Gee was too much of a pussy to ever tag along.
But it was Sunday, and on Sundays every mom in the tri-state area dragged her kids to Mass with the usual guilt trip.
Frank was no exception.
So he pulled out his one nice button-down, tied his red tie the same way Sister Agnes taught him to, smoothed out the miracle on his head, and slipped out the door. For a second, he almost leaned back in to kiss Gerard’s shoulder before leaving.
Thank God he was a heavy sleeper.
The hair didn’t go over well. His dad shook his head. Mom looked at him wide-eyed, French tips squeezing his cheek. His sisters all cackled like witches the second he got close to the parish. Even baby Frankie gave him a toothless smile as she wiggled out of her mother's arms and into his.
Inside, they fell into the same old Iero family ritual.
Beat the other families to the pews.
Save a row.
Pretend you’re not choking on incense.
But Frank had his own ritual — baby to one of the girls, smile at the old ladies that shuffled in the back, and find the longest relationship he's ever had.
The confessional smelled like furniture polish and ghosts. The flick of his lighter rang against the dark wood, letting the priest know who was there before he even spoke.
“Put it out, Frank.”
Same voice as when he was nine and got dragged there by his grandma after he stole baseball cards.
“Aw, c’mon, Father,” Frank muffled against the filter, “it’s been long enough, aren't we friends by now?”
A long, exhausted sigh. “You know the rules, Franklin. Out.”
“Yeah, well.” He crushed the cigarette against the wood. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned… again.”
“Same one?”
“Same guy,” Frank smirked, tapping the pack against his knee, trying to sound proud, “three years running."
“You still living together?”
“I pay my half.”
“And you…still share the bed?”
“It’s better than that,” Frank snorted, “Except he used to at least look like he had tits, but lately—”
“Language.”
“Sorry, but seriously, fuckin’ Gee should count towards charity.”
“Two Hail Marys.”
“Add that to the twelve from last week?”
“No,” Father Andrews sighed, his voice carrying like he was thinking of something better, almost amused with the challenge, “doesn’t seem to be working.”
A tapping foot echoed between them, the bridge Frank had been working on all week. Kept telling Ray the chord should’ve been a C not an A, but did he listen? No he just—
“If you’re going to keep doing it,” Father Andrews asked, breaking the silence, “why are you here?”
Frank stared at the smoke crawling between the slats. For a moment, he looked like a boy again, cornered by a question he couldn’t lie his way out of.
“Because I’m Catholic,” he said finally. “And you people got a problem with everything.”
“You come to Mass, you stay late, but you don’t follow the teachings.”
“I follow the ones that matter.”
“But you sleep with a man.”
“Not a man,” the correction fell before Frank knew it, “Illi isn’t… she’s—”
“A man in the eyes of God.”
“If God cared so much he would've made everything match. Wouldn’t have given him that face or let me know he exists when she looks at me.”
“You ever think about what your mother would say?”
Frank's stomach pooled with something close to embarrassment. “She likes Illi. Couldn't even tell the difference across the dinner table.”
“And if she knew?”
The quiet between them turned heavy.
“She’d think I’m a good person,” Frank hoped more than answered, softer now. “Mostly.”
Father Andrews cleared his throat, noticing the stillness that only came when Frank was getting what they both knew he was here for.
“The Sunday school teacher needs help getting the kids… interested in being here. Play them something. Show them it’s cool to be here.”
Frank snorted. “You want me to babysit a bunch of Bible babies?”
“I want you to have something else to do with your time. Give them something to talk about other than pokey-man.”
That almost earned a real laugh. He thought about arguing but didn’t. Just nodded, brushing ash off his jeans.
The confessional door shut with a quiet thud followed by the drag of Frank’s shoes.
Back to the ritual. Baby. Pews. Used Bible.
Peace be with you.
---
Afternoon
Fluorescent lights buzzed like flies waiting to have a crack at his insides.
Dr. Levine didn’t look up when Gerard walked in; he never did until he was ready. Which Gerard usually hated, but today he needed the brief moment where his existence didn't seem to matter any more than it did when he slept.
The leather chair was waiting, cracked and faded. It pulled him in like a magnet, or maybe it was just routine. Sit, cry, walk out with pills he knew he wouldn't take.
But not today. Today he had purpose.
“I’m glad you came,” Levine said, pen already clicking. “I like starting the New Year with a session for my clients who struggle this time of year.”
“Yeah, well.” Gerard sank into the chair. “Got me outta Mass. I’ll take the win.”
The red and black pack of calm slid out of his jeans with ease.
“Can I, uh, smoke in here?”
“This isn’t a hospital. You can smoke. Or yell. Or cry. Whatever helps you get through the hour.”
“You coulda just said yes,” Gerard muttered.
“So,” Levine breathed, “the hair?”
“Tried to do a Madonna thing,” Gerard said, raking his fingers through the bleached disaster. “Came out like… this.”
“I think it looks ....very nice.”
“No it doesn’t,” Gerard exhaled with a puff of smoke. “Thought you never lied to me?”
“Everything’s subjective.”
“Yeah? My head isn’t.”
Levine scribbled something. Gerard rolled his eyes.
“How’s your year starting off?”
“You see the hair?” Gerard said. “Exactly like that.”
Click. Another note.
“Still sharing a bed with Frank?”
A smile almost broke out. “Yeah. He met my family for Christmas. Mikey thinks he’s cool. Mom didn’t say anything about the tattoos. That’s, uh… something.”
“And how does that feel?”
Apparently, like the radiator clicking on.
“No sunglasses today.”
“Don’t need ’em.” Gerard rubbed at his face. “Was kinda hopin’ we could… talk about my Alprazolam prescription instead.”
“It’s been one month.”
“I know. But I cut back on drinking. Mostly. Except when the train’s too crammed, and people at work won’t get off my back about stamps and showers, and— I can’t draw without the meds. I can barely breathe.”
“You’re not supposed to request medication.”
“You’re always talking about autonomy or whatever—well… here I am, trying to make a choice.”
Levine didn’t react.
“How are things with Frank?”
“Would be better if I had Xanax.”
“Problems at home?”
Always back there. Even when it was his folks instead of his roommate. Levine never accepted it wasn’t about home.
“Met a girl at work.”
Levine actually looked up. “A girl.”
“Yeah. Tall. Blonde. Has a dude’s name.”
“Since when are you into women?”
“I’m not into women… I’m into her. She’s got, uh… nice teeth.”
That threw Levine. “I just assumed because of Adam. And Frank.”
Gerard’s chest tightened. “That’s different.”
“Different how?'
“Well,” Gerard breathed, stubbing his cigarette, “Adam’s dead and Frank doesn’t tell me about the girls. Why should I tell him?”
“So this is about—”
“This isn’t about any of… that. I’ve always liked girls. A lot. Like ’em so much sometimes I watch 'em just to try and figure out how they….just are. They just assume before I can ask anything. Or laugh. Just like you do.”
“I never laugh at you, Gerard.”
“But you want to. Just like everyone else. Then you write something down and think you know me—this is a waste of time.”
Probably should’ve kept that last part, but sometimes things just slipped out.
He wanted to fold in on himself like a black hole, but the best he could do was make the chair squeak and bite his nails before pulling another cigarette from the pack.
“I just… want my head to be quiet longer than a commercial break.”
Levine watched him — the way he had since Gerard was fourteen and wouldn’t say his own name for three sessions.
“I’ll place an emergency script,” Levine said finally. “Two weeks. We’ll revisit.'
Gerard’s spine loosened even as guilt made his head dip. “Thank you.”
“Now,” Levine said gently, “the girl. What're you going to do about her?”
Gerard had no idea. Chys liked the first drawing he’d left, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her it was him. Women were impossible. Men were easy—Frank especially. Belt on the floor, reruns nobody was watching. A mouth, a hand, a heartbeat.
“I drew her once, she liked it. Thought maybe I’d try again. More… me.”
“And what’s ‘you’?”
Gerard smirked weakly. “Depends who you ask. Weird. Cool. Fuckup.”
“And if I’m asking you?”
“I try not to.”
Time ran out. He held the prescription like a prize.
Red and blue pills — salvation shaking in an orange bottle.
He practically ran home.
Frank was waiting on the couch, baggie out, smirk sharp.
“Double,” Frank said. “Got it cheap.”
Gerard should’ve said no.
He didn’t.
Shoved the bag in his pocket.
Just in case.
The couch swallowed them both. A beer found its way into Gerard’s hand.
Commander Sisko flickered onto the TV.
Frank nudged his knee. “Hey. Leave that shit out there.”
Gerard didn’t turn his head.
Just smiled and let Frank ask him questions they both knew the answers to.
Neither of them could wait to get to bed.
Frank insisted Gerard scarf down a sandwich, jump in the shower, and meet him in the bedroom.
Didn’t look at him weird when he hesitated at the door. Just grabbed a Libertines tape and wiggled the hoop in his lip with his tongue.
“Just one song and I’ll be waiting in there the whole time.”
Turning the lights off helped.
Dripping wet, shivering from the reminder that they were behind on the gas bill, he stood in the bedroom doorway.
Pale skin and tattoos waited for him on the bed with a chattering smile. Something stronger than The Force pulled them in.
When lips met, hands followed. No waistbands in the way. Just warm skin and slick palms finding their way.
Falling onto his back, Gerard looked up into a face that never asked the question. Never looked down long enough to make Gerard remember what he was.
Couldn’t admit to Dr. Levine that he liked that it still hurt — kept him from wanting it as much as he knew he would otherwise.
When Frank turned the slide into his first thrust — the one that joined them fully — he got what he was looking for.
The look.
Crooked lips parted and eyes that might as well nail him to the crucifix.
Every sound that fell from Illi to Frank sounded like a prayer, no, a confirmation—he’d do the Hail Mary just in case.
Oh, God.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
good day to u, i am currently thinking very sinful thoughts about bullets gerard. he is so. he’s pretty. he’s a Pretty boy. this is not new information by any means but i want to Corrupt him. the thing is i don’t think he’s fully sub, even when you’re domming? he’s not like. a Full Blown Dom either but he could if u wanted, and believe me i 100% do but rn i want nothing more than to have my way with him. just sit in his lap n tease him, not even let him have me, just get him off with my hand n teasing words. i wanna have him moan against my lips when i trail a hand down n just gently tease him over his jeans with my fingers n feel him buck his hips up when i get faster, n then hear his breath hitch n have him watch me all needy when i finally touch him for real. ohhh he’d moan so pretty. i want to hear him pant n curse n groan, he’d buck his hips into ur hand n grip ur thigh n throw his head back n tell you to do more, to go faster, he’d look so good just fucked out n needy, messy hair sticking to his forehead n eyebrows furrowed n eyes half lidded when he’s not looking at u desperately n cute lips all glossy n bitten. and oh god he’d look so gorgeous when he cums. he’d moan ur name n try n get the words out but he can’t, it feels too good, he’s too close, n i’d get to watch as his mouth falls open n his eyes flutter closed n he groans. im too far gone i am so in love with this era of gerard. Baby Boy. i apologise for the essay but i had to… get that out of my system. have a lovely day - 🦂
NO YOURE SO RIGHT, THIS IS ALWAYS WHAT IM THINKING ABT BULLETS GEE
Pairing: Gerard x [enby, afab] Reader
Word count: ~ 3 300
Genre: Smut / Comfort
Summary: Reader comes out to Gerard as non-binary. Gerard decides to enjoy their stay at the hotel to relieve themselves and get f*cked in the *ss.
Requested by anon
a/n: thx sm for this request, mwah, sorry for taking too long </3
Smoke escapes my lips as I look into the distance, watching the commotion around the parking lot from under the sunglasses I stole from Gerard earlier. People walk around the parking lot under the bright sun, either rushing to whichever shadow they can find or just having given up to the sunburns – certain pride swells in my chest at Gerard and I having seats right under the bus’ shadow.
The cigarette is suddenly snatched from my fingers, making me raise an eyebrow at Gerard, who carelessly takes a drag of it before dropping the stump to the ground, smashing it against the concrete with the heel of his boot. The closest to a reaction I get from Gerard is a cynical smile, which seems to only grow after I shake my head to myself. Definitely something that would get me mad if I wasn’t used to it after all these years.
“Annoying bitch,” I mutter in his ear, pressing a kiss to the side of his face.
“Possibly.” He grins. “But all yours.”
I hum at Gerard, nuzzling him softly and giving him a last kiss before I can pull away and it’s impossible not to smile at his adorable manners, blushing shyly at the affection.
As much as there isn’t exactly much we would be doing if not here, something makes me want to stand up and go wander around every few seconds just to remember I can’t and there goes another sigh as I turn to look for something interesting to watch. Maybe it’s to do more with the heat crawling up my skin in such an annoying way rather than the lack of anything to do.
“Gerard!” Someone suddenly says and they’re finally here, thank hell.
It doesn’t take long for them to prepare all the cameras, which happens while the guy shares some words with Gerard about the interview. I don’t really need to move as the cameras will be mostly focused on the two and a good distance separates Gerard and I.
“I see you’re with your girlfriend,” the guy comments and I internally cringe, preferring to continue pretending I’m not following the conversation. Girlfriend. Awfully wrong.
“Yeah,” Gerard replies shyly and I suddenly feel a hand – his hand – wrapped around mine, holding onto it firmly with this subtle nervousness he holds whenever in front of a camera, no matter how many times this happens. I squeeze his hand softly, making him relax a bit under my touch.
Gerard lets go of my hand at some point and their words turn into incoherent noises in the background until I decide to avert my attention to them and actually watch them… until I get lost in thoughts again.
Having people refer to me by she, her, girl is so frustrating. I wasn’t worried about it at first, reminding myself my pronouns don’t define who I am, and things took an unexpected – or maybe not so unexpected – turn, only getting worse; still, I manage to bite my tongue whenever it happens. I’m not a girl, no, but I’m not a guy. None of these feel right. A label itself doesn’t feel right; at least now.
Of course, perhaps things would be easier if I discussed it with Gerard because we’re always helping each other out, almost unable to function on our own after spending all these years inseparably. Something, however, holds me back, having the words caught in my throat whenever the subject crosses my mind. This is almost shameful, with Gerard being so open with me the whole time while I can’t tell him something so important. He’s even talked with me about his own gender issues.
“You alright, love?” Gerard’s concerned voice cuts through my thoughts and I turn to see him looking at me with a matching expression, eyebrows furrowed.
“Yes, don’t worry.” I try to smile. He doesn’t smile back and I brush it off. I’ll need us to be alone if I’m telling him anything, anyways.
Once the sun starts to set in the horizon, we’re grabbing food and heading to the hotel, having decided we deserved a night on a proper bed and a proper shower after all these days, considering we’ve also got a longer stay in here.
“Hi, hi, hi!” Gerard jumps towards me once I walk into the room, wrapping his arms around my neck while I still close the door behind me and I can’t help but to smile. His lips are pressed to mine before I have the chance to answer, a short kiss followed by him pulling away and spending a long moment observing me, demonstrating less emotions than he holds in these wide, hazel eyes.
“What?” I raise an eyebrow, resting my hands on his hips as both of us stumble towards the bed, clumsily, though never losing our balance.
“Well, that’s exactly my question to you.” Gerard furrows his eyebrows lightly, that same concern from earlier now present in his gaze yet again. What? Well, he asked me if everything was alright earlier, but maybe I can shrug it off by saying I felt tired. Or maybe not. “There’s something bothering you, (y/n), and it’s obvious.” He sighs, letting go of me to sit down on the edge of the mattress.
A few excuses run through my mind. They aren’t worth it. God, okay, that’s it or else I’ll stab the next person who refers to me as a girl even if it’s Gerard.
“I’m non-binary, Gerard, okay?” Pause. Aching silence. “Well, at least I’m not a girl or a guy,” I breathe in certain defeat under his gaze, moving to sit down next to him. “Like, I’ve noticed it some time ago, but I was… afraid of telling you. I know you love me above all and I can tell you stuff like this, but I continued nervous, for some reason. Well, I am. I’m just done being referred to as ‘girlfriend’ and all, y’know?”
“Oh,” Gerard mutters and I can see him nodding by the corner of my eyes before his hand is placed over mine. “It makes a lot more sense now, if you wanna know. You’re always with this awkward smile whenever people refer to you like this. How do you wanna be referred to from now on, love?”
“Just nothing gendered, if that’s alright,” I say softly, feeling my confidence slowly wearing out to be replaced by this rising nervousness. “And my name continues fine.”
“(Y/n), you shouldn’t ask if it’s alright.” He moves closer wrapping an arm around my torso instead, pressing a comforting kiss to my jaw. “It’s your identity, it’s who you are, you don’t need to ask ‘if’ people are going to accept you.” His hand meets my cheek, gently bringing me to face him. “And I’ll continue loving you no matter what. I’m happy you finally decided to say it. You won’t get frustrated anymore. Is it okay to tell the others?”
“Yeah, it is.” I nod, feeling this weight being slowly removed from my chest, finally. “Just not today, okay? I’m tired already.” I smile a bit, somehow calming down with how relaxed Gerard himself is with this whole thing, expression never changing.
“Of course,” he hums, hand coming down to my collarbone as his eyes avert to my lips a few times. “You’re my wonderful partner, such an amazing and brilliant person I’m lucky to have.”
If I ever had anything to say to Gerard, it just vanishes from my head at the moment both of us lean in, lips pressed together in a sweet kiss. All the worry and nervousness has already vanished by now, being simply a distant memory that left this weird feeling in my chest, but it’s definitely better than all that weight that made it even hard to breathe.
“I love you no matter what,” he mutters and he’s quickly kissing me again, one of his hands moving to the back of my neck and playing with the few strands of hair there.
The most of a reply I’m able to give him without breaking the kiss is a muffled hum, and even though I really appreciate his words, I’m more focused on how he deepens the kiss, becoming more invested into it. I can feel the warmth of his skin through the jeans of his pants, under my hands as I place them on his thighs and lead them up to his hips, fingers slipping under his jacket and shirt to hold onto the warm skin and rub circles into it. A quiet sound escapes Gerard’s throat.
Only my lungs pleading for air forces me to come to a stop, panting softly with my eyes still closed and forehead pressed to Gerard’s, his eyelashes tickling mine lightly.
Gerard clearly has something in mind – he had it planned all along, knowing how the bastard can be – and my assumptions are proven true when his lips meet my neck, nibbling on and kissing the skin in an almost demanding manner.
“Gee,” I breathe softly, voice tight in my throat because Gerard didn’t choose any random spot on my neck. A groan comes from him in response, a quiet response, but gains a desperate tone with a light tug on his hair. Fuck. Resisting Gerard isn’t quite easy, so I try to keep my focus whilst enjoying his touches for a moment longer, soon I’m pulling away. “Needy today, aren’t we?” I tease lightly, observing his flushed face, though he doesn’t hold any embarrassment.
“Why? Got a problem?” He mocks and I can’t stop myself from laughing at his manners, his mouth twisting in a cute and sassy way. He rolls his eyes. A smug air laces his grin, wiped away from his face in seconds with a last kiss I give him before motioning for him to move further up the bed, which he does.
Gerard’s jacket meets the ground with a muffled sound at the same time I get rid of my shoes and jacket, soon climbing on the bed and making my way over to Gerard. He watches me with wide eyes, teeth sinking into his bottom lip in anticipation.
“How perfect can you be?” I ask, not bothering to keep my posture, flashing a half grin as I tug on his shirt and he helps me with getting rid of it.
“As perfect as you want me to be, sugar.” He’s as audacious and careless, lying there complacently and waiting for me to do something, pale skin almost pleading for my touches, contrasting perfectly with the dark grey shades of the covers.
“You’re terrible,” I mutter merely above a whisper, cold fingertips meeting the skin first, followed by my palms flat against his waist. Little bumps rise under my touch, but I ignore them, leaning in to start to mouth Gerard’s collarbones, doing to him the same he did to me earlier, though also allowing my hands to run up and down his sides and my thumbs are shortly sinking in the area right under the waistband of his jeans, around the trail of hair – his hips bulk forward in response, with a light groan escaping his lips.
Teasing Gerard absolutely isn’t part of my plans, but seeing him there like that makes me want to enjoy everything to the most, so I try to balance each movement between the enjoyable and uncomfortable for both of us.
Red marks mark my trail down Gerard’s torso, each having been accompanied by gasps and sometimes moans.
Gerard finally allows himself to breathe properly, catching his breath whereas I remove my shirt, promptly working on unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants, letting it fall to the ground along with the rest of his clothes. I take my moment to observe him again and Gerard doesn’t object – running his tongue between his lips and grinning when my eyes meet his.
All that posture is dropped the moment I bend down and nibble down onto Gerard’s hip, nuzzling the warm skin on my way down to his thighs. He’s bringing his legs up at the slightest touch on his thighs spreading them in a silent invitation I take, placing a hand on the underside of it, firmly. Gerard tenses up, twitching slightly according to how my lips linger over the skin, each time closer to his already hard cock, which falls heavily over his lower stomach.
“(Y/n),” he gasps, unable to say anything more once I wrap my lips around the thin, sensitive part of the inside of his thigh and nibble down onto it. Proper moans escape his lips, higher pitched, almost little whines.
Okay, okay, that’s enough – solely watching Gerard like this already has me aching for some friction, maybe some sort of touch even if it’s actually touching Gerard.
Our panting, along with the sound of my pants being removed, sounds loud in the sudden silence, making us aware of how loud Gerard was actually being.
Gerard only stares at the ceiling, hands loosely wrapped around the sheets, now messy after all the pulling. I gaze at him, at how delicate he seems and how the bright red tone on his cheeks and down his chubby body contrasts perfectly with all the paleness.
My bag rests beside the bed, against the bedside table just like I had left it there before having to leave the room to go talk with Ray and quickly came back to Gerard kissing me. It’s got a couple changes of clothes, my phone, some essentials, but most importantly, it has the strap-on, which I always bring along to the hotel stops, plus lube, just in case. And thank God I did.
“Turn that ass over for me,” I say, giving Gerard’s thigh a light slap.
A few groans come from Gerard, but he does do as said, turning on his stomach and glancing back at me with sulky pouty lips.
“My cute slut,” I tease, pecking his lips with a half smile.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t need to brag.” He waves a hand in dismissal, moving to grab one of the pillows so he can hug it. I roll my eyes, moving to kneel behind him and a new slap – this time on his ass – has him groaning again, though getting himself up on his knees, hips in the air.
Hell, yes. I hum in approval, pressing a kiss to the side of Gerard’s ass, keeping my focus on lubing up my fingers at the same time. Finally, I’m pressing one of my fingers to his hole. He tenses up a bit under the touch, the tight rim of muscles fluttering once I start to circle it, later welcoming my finger warmly once I sink it in. Gerard moans, softly and long.
Soon, a finger turns into two then into three until Gerard is a moaning mess, gasping and trembling at how my fingertips brush his prostate and press down on it, clenching around my fingers. His moans are becoming too desperate when I decide to finally pull away, breathing heavily myself and most likely flushed. “Fucking hell, Gerard,” I mutter softly, giving Gerard some time to recompose himself.
I clean my fingers on the sheets, not caring much because it’s not like the hotel is going to do something about it either. Instead, I focus on relieving myself, bringing my hand between my legs to try to get rid of at least a little bit of this need. Fuck. My finger slides along my clit as I look at Gerard for a moment then bite down on my lip, preventing any moan from escaping, throwing my head back at the pleasure, but I force myself to remove my hand in the moment my hips jolt forward like they had life themselves.
“Great, great,” I mutter to myself, trying to focus on slipping on the strap-on and grabbing the lube yet again.
Gerard breathes heavily, shifting a bit in his place, motions that come to a stop once I’m kneeling behind him, hands closed around his pudgy hips.
“Ready?” I ask a bit breathlessly, wetting my lips.
“Please,” he groans, voice muffled into the pillow. I comply. A louder gasp escapes Gerard’s lips at the feeling of the toy pushing in, slowly so he can adjust to it, whilst I lean down according to how my hips push in, feeling the skin of his back pressed against my torso, hot and damp with sweat already, but that’s the smallest of my worries. A soft moan escapes Gerard’s lips with my hips finally meeting the back of his ass completely and, feeling him wriggling lightly, I don’t hesitate in starting to move, pushing back just to sink in again.
A steady string of moans is soon escaping Gerard’s lips, interrupted sometimes by gasps and incoherent mumbling as my pace grows faster until I find a rhythm nice enough for the both of us. It’s subtle at first, but his hips are moving along, stuttering before finding a harmony with my movements and clearly summing up to his pleasure.
My nose is buried in Gerard’s hair, each of my shallow breaths and occasional groans coming with a faint smell of shampoo and cologne. His dark strands tickle my nose, but I don’t mind them, pressing soft kisses to the back of his neck and daring to nibble down on it.
“Hell, Gerard,” I say breathlessly, pulling myself back a bit so I can adjust the angle of my hips. “You’re going to be the death of me.” His moans just sound like absolute music to my ears, becoming even more pleasing after I find his prostate, snatching high pitched and more desperate, uncontrollable sounds from his throat, intensifying more as I start moving faster. “There you go,” I groan, letting go of one of his hips so I can wrap a hand around his dick, pumping it to the same rhythm of my thrusts.
“(Y/–” My name never gets to leave Gerard’s lips completely among the moans, only mumbled incoherently as he grips onto the pillow and practically melts under me. “I-I’m–” he gasps, followed by a shaky moan.
I need to move away for a moment, taking a look at Gerard’s face and it’s just heavenly, half hidden into the pillow, mouth hanging open in a way the upper row of short teeth are seen and his dark strands are everywhere, sticking to the skin with the sweat and covering his eyes, which are pressed shut.
“Then come, love, come,” I mutter lowly into his ear, sinking my finger into Gerard’s cock slit and not a minute later he’s coming, a long and high pitched moan escaping his throat with it. I keep on moving, attentive to his manners and pulling away before the oversensitivity can hit him.
A few quiet sounds still come from Gerard even while I put everything away – we can clean and organize it all tomorrow –, slowly relaxing on the mattress. He is eventually sitting up against the headboard, blinking slowly, still a bit disoriented. “Come here, will you?” His words almost run one into the other, but he keeps his focus, spreading his legs and patting the space between them.
“Yeah,” I mutter and sit down on the space, leaning back against Gerard, appreciating the warmth he brings me in contrast to the cold night air hitting my sweaty skin.
Gerard doesn’t waste any time, arm wrapped around my torso and fingers quickly working on my clit.
“Fuck,” I gasp, arching my back and patting around for something to hold onto, finally having a hand buried in Gerard’s hair whilst also holding onto his wrist. Gerard’s hum tickles my skin, his lips pressed against my neck as he nibbles on the skin, never slowing down his work with his hand. My pleasure soon grows when I feel a couple of fingers slipping in, scissoring and moving around until they’re pressing down on a specific spot, thumb still working against my clit.
My climax hits me before I can see, waves of pleasure sent running up my thighs as I tug onto Gerard, vision momentarily going black.
“Gerard,” I breathe, slowly coming back to reality, groaning softly at feeling him moving his hand away. He chuckles softly, unamused.
I have a few of those in a great variety of ships :D
Bottom Gerard
The Blue Room by ladyfoxxx, Frank/Gerard, 3k, Explicit. The one where Pete is a not-so-accidental voyeur.
All Yours, Daddy by chemicalcandy, Frank/Gerard, 5k, Explicit. The thin golden material was hugging Gerard’s hips tightly, leaving nothing to anyone's imagination as he moved them rhythmically to the music blasted from a speaker. His hairless legs were wrapped around the pole delicately, his hands clutching it as he threw his head back. Long red hair fell from his face, revealing his artful features, the upturned nose and sharp eyebrows, long eyelashes touching the pale skin over his high cheekbones as he had closed them tightly. His red bottom lip was trapped between his front teeth, leaving a trace of lipstick on them. Frank could see his beautiful neck as he kept baring it, could see his Adam's apple that the dim shimmery light made somehow stand out even more, could see the vein on the side of his neck Frank knew adrenaline would be pumped through just now because Gerard loved this. All eyes were on him, everybody was paying attention to his moves, his face, his outfit and body, and he was mesmerizing everyone watching.
Don't Fence Me In by desfinado, Frank/Gerard, 7k, Explicit. "We tried to have sex so great that no man should ever be able to experience it. These are the consequences."
Monster Under the Bed by BasementVampire, Frank/Gerard, 4k, Explicit. “You’re not real. Go away,” Gerard ordered. “If I’m not real, then who are you talking to?” it countered. “My imagination.” “Can your imagination shake the bed?” Gerard screeched. “Stop that!” There was a sigh from underneath the bed. “It makes me sad to be told I’m not real. Sad and angry.” Gerard whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut. “All right—you’re real! Stop shaking the bed!”
Kiss Me, You Animal by dear_monday, Frank/Gerard, 5k, Explicit. It totally wasn't his fault, okay? Frank would like that on record. Because it wasn't. An exploration of the complex dynamic between... oh, sod it. This is SHAMELESS KILLJOY PORN. \o/
Competitive Streak by ladyfoxxx, Frank/Gerard, 2k, Explicit. Gerard doesn't want to be the only Way brother without a sex tape.
Psycho Boy by BasementVampire, Frank/Gerard, 2k, Explicit. "The room goes silent again. Gerard swings his legs back and forth while Frank finishes prepping. It’s strangely casual—like he’s not sitting here waiting for Frank to do something sickeningly cruel to him." Gerard and Frank engage in some extreme sadomasochism.
Against The Wall by ladyfoxxx, Frank/Gerard, 2k, Explicit. Angry backstage sex.
Click Click Click Click by pearl_o, Frank/Ray/Gerard, 2k, Explicit. Ray likes taking pictures, Gerard likes being the center of attention, and Frank likes both of them.
A Cure For Writer's Block by cybercandy, Frank/Ray/Gerard/Mikey, 5k, Explicit. They’ve hit a wall, there’s no point denying it, and to be honest Mikey’s surprised it hasn’t happened sooner. It’s been going so well, songs and words slotting into place like puzzle pieces, the new album appearing in front of their eyes and ears bit by bit. Until it all ground to a really fucking spectacular halt.
A Night In Paris by gala_apples, Frank/Ray/Gerard/Mikey, 829 words, Explicit. Gerard wants to go play tourist in Paris. But what he really wants is to get gangbanged. Luckily his band is good at reading between the lines.
Reaching Through The Mirror by ladyfoxxx, Gerard/Gerard, Frank/Gerard, 6k, Explicit. The one where Party Poison and Basement!Gerard have sex.
Black Velvet Pumps by s0ckpupp3t, Gerard/Mikey, 2k, Explicit. They were black velvet pumps, okay, not with a stupid pointy toe but classically rounded; delicate tapering heels but not stilettos. They had a decently-sized toe box, and maybe even a tiny bit of arch support. And they came in Gerard's size.
Legs to the Wall by inlovewithnight, Gerard/Mikey, 2k, Explicit. This is the part where Mikey can really get into the game.
Red-Handed Denial by preblematic, Gerard/Mikey, 7k, Explicit. Five times that the Way brothers were caught in the act, and one time that they totally did it on purpose.
Handsy by preblematic, Gerard/Mikey, 4k, Explicit. There are three things Gerard knows for certain. 1. Mikey is a handsy drunk. 2. Gerard is Mikey’s favorite person. 3. No amount of alcohol can kill a Way boner.
Brand New City by preblematic, Gerard/Mikey, 1k, Explicit. Honey, what'd you take?
Don't Need No Rising Moon by Sena, Gerard/Mikey, 2k, Explicit. Mikey will take as much as his sister is willing to give.
Pillow Talk by akamine_chan, Gerard/a friendly betentacled alien, 4k, Explicit. Gerard always knew that there had to be life on other planets. He just never planned on meeting it.
use condiments by mwestbelle, Gerard/Pete, 804 words, Explicit. This was supposed to be sweet/emotional barebacking, but then I wrote it from Pete's POV and...yeah, that didn't really happen.
Silicone Romance by anoneknewmoose, Lindsey/Gerard, 4k, Explicit. Sometimes Lindsey wears a cock.
A Penny For Your Thoughts by dear_monday, Party Poison/Gerard, 2k, Explicit. "You're shitting me, right?" he says, looking Poison up and down disbelievingly. "You're not. You narcissistic fuck." Poison shrugs. "Hey. Suit yourself, motorbaby. You're not the only hooker out here tonight, you know."
Well Okay Then by autoschediastic, Ray/Gerard, 5k, Explicit. "Okay?" Gerard's eyes open one after the other. He squints at Ray again. "Okay, as in you're okay with Frank and Mikey using you for prime masturbatory material? Because, like, on the one hand, it's genuine appreciation of your skill, but on the other--" "Okay, I can fuck you out of your head," Ray butts in.
You’re In Time For The Show by shadowhive, Frank/Ray/Gerard/Mikey, Gerard/Mikey, Ray/Gerard, 5k, Explicit. The aftermath of Frank’s first rockstar moment.
a heart attack (in black hair dye) by Trojie, Ray/Gerard, 3k, Explicit. Gerard likes to be loud, Ray likes to be quiet, Mikey likes to not be scarred for life, and Frank just likes to sleep.
Gerard loves cuddling. Frank isn't as cuddly as Gerard, but he tries his best to please him. He never fails to do so.
Gerard likes to fall asleep while spooning. What can he say? He feels comfortable and protected in Frank's arms.
Frank does a lot of PDA. Not because he's soft and cuddly, but because he likes to see Gerard get flustered. It's cute. He also makes sure everyone knows Gerard is his, and only his.
Brendon brags that he'll be their first kid's godfather. They still haven't decided.
When Gerard first told Mikey he was dating Frank, he left a camera in their room. He still uses the footage as blackmail.
It takes a bit of begging, but Gerard will occasionally wear skirts for Frank, as long as nobody else is there.
They once had a competition with [insert two Bandom members you ship] to see which could be the sluttiest/most 'romantic' couple. Obviously, they won.
Gerard gets jealous really easily and will silently fume and glare at fangirls who are getting too close to Frank.
Nobody was surprised when they announced that they were a thing. In fact, Ray asked, "Weren't you two already dating?"
Gerard is a huge fanboy, and Frank will go with him to conventions because he likes seeing Gerard happy and excited.
Frank has beaten the living shit out of Bert before, for obvious reasons.
They love doing couples Halloween costumes, which are usually fandom related.
Frank has tried training his dogs to attack Bert. They've gotten pretty good at it.
Whenever Gerard has a nightmare, Frank will cuddle him until he feels better.
Gerard has a habit of drawing Frank when he's sleeping. Sometimes Frank will even pretend he's asleep just so Gerard will do that.
I'm getting vibes of demon!Frank and priest!Gerard. The demon behind and inside you. Inspired by Supernatural's demon!Dean/priest!Castiel fanfics. I'm a blasphemous little shit and I love it. (Not my edit)
