you (a frerard short story)

two//how the fuck are you giving me head?

"h-how the fuck are you g-giving me head?" 

the sentence itself is almost interrupted by a powerful moan of my own, but I held it down the best I could. I, however, could not say the same about my ejaculation, because in mere moments the white liquid was oozing onto my stomach. 

"l-later, frankie" gerard moaned, grabbing my hand and shoving it down his boxers, emitting a moan as soon as my fingers grasped his member.

--

"you never answered my question, gee," I say, fully aware that we were both naked and I was laying directly on top of him, our legs intertwined, my cheek resting on his collarbone, "and, sidenote, how the fuck am I laying on top of you? you're not real."

I scamper away from the boy, his frame getting just slightly fuzzier, as my mind reeled with all the questions.

I pace the room, barely aware of the fact that I was still naked and my dick was probably flopping with every step I took, but I didn't care. "you died. you killed yourself. you're a hallucination, gerard. the fucking doctors told me I'm schizophrenic and if that doesn't mean anything I don't know what does"

"fucking hallucinations can't have amazing sex, frankie. i'm a ghost. you are the reason i'm still here. i can't fucking leave unless you die too. it killed me, frankie, to see you cry when you found my body next to our tree in the forest. it killed the fuck out of me that I couldn't do anything but sit and watch, I wasn't strong enough yet. like a ouija board, you can't just say 'come talk', the spirits have to have the right equipment and preparation to be able to connect with the outside world." he says, standing up and standing in front of me, looking real, human.

"I...I couldn't live without you. you're an arrogant asshole and somehow I managed to fall in love with that and-"

his lips on mine cut me off, and it almost felt as good as the blowjob he gave me.