Frank & Gerard One Shots

Muscles and jock straps

I was never one for sports. I hated them in fact. I loved music though, that's where I excelled. The only problem was my father didn't think that music was fitting when it came to 'physical education'. I was required to join a sport this year, and let's just say it certainly wasn't going to be football. No, I was too tiny for that. Basketball was out of the question, my short body would never do me or the team any good. The baseball team at my school were complete assholes so I decided no quickly. Then, there was the wrestling team. They didn't cut anyone in the wrestling team and sense I was so small I figured there would be nobody on the team to wrestle with anyway. I would sit back and do nothing the entire time. Maybe I could be the water boy? Was there even water boys in wrestling? Oh well My plan was almost kinda genius.

I walked down the long corridor to the gym where the first day of practice was held. I had signed up a few days ago, earning a strange look for one of my classmates. Frank Iero doing a sport, wrestling at that, was completely unheard of. I was almost embarrassed as I walked in, every guy there was at least a foot taller than I and probably fifty pounds heavier. Well, I was right. There was nobody my weight here.

I sat at the back of the hoard of boys where there were sitting. They were chatting away and some even running round like idiots. It was true, girls mature faster than boys cause these guys were total airheads. I bet the gymnastics team didn't have the problems like this.

Within two hours we were heading out. We had mostly just learned the ropes of how things were ran around there. It was boring let's just say. But within the next month of practice, I increasingly got more distant from the others due to the amount of embarrassment put on my body. The worst part was the outfits we had to wear at meets. It was a tight full body, blue suit. Okay maybe it wasn't full body, it ended as short shorts and the top only held by spaghetti straps. I felt like a woman in a swimsuit from the sixties. It was awful and tight. My hairy pale legs shone bright compared to the blue and my bare chest not sticking out at all. It looked like someone had slipped the suit onto a pencil. I just thanked god we didn't have to wear it at practice.

At practices I pretty much just sat back and watched. The coach would show us the different moves and what they were called. I practiced a few times with the other small kid (but still bigger than me) sometimes. His name was Patrick Stump. We became somewhat friends and I would always tell him that his skills 'stumped' me. I would laugh and think my puns were hilarious but he would just roll his eyes and mummer 'like I haven't heard that one before'. Either way, I sucked at wrestling and wasn't getting any better due to my lack of practice. The coach tried to get me to gain weight, but no.

The first meet I hadn't competed at all. The other team hadn't had anyone my size/weight either. So I stayed on the side lines, trying to cover up the awful suit with my sweatpants. I didn't get why I had to wear it if I wasn't competing. But the coach told me to put the uniform on (which included the cup). God I hated the cup. It wasn't like I was packin or anything, but I was still a fair size and it was uncomfortable to have Little Frankie all scrunched up awkwardly.

The second meet however, I was told I was going against someone. I almost laughed in their face. Nobody in their right mind would join the wrestling team that was my weight. I had only done it because there was no other option? What was their excuse?

Considering I was the smallest (and also on the JV team) I had to go up first. That was the worst feeling in the world I found out. Knowing my father, some of my school, my team, the other team, and the coach would all be watching my every move. Everyone that was there would have their eyes on me and my skin tight blue suit. They would watch me fail, and I would have to walk back in shame. They called me first up and I gulped. I showily slid off my sweatpants, exposing my tightened crotch area for the first time. The gym air felt colder than usual but everyone's eyes felt hot on my skin. I double checked my wrestling shoe laces to make sure they were tied and gave one last glance to my coach. Finally, stepping onto the large mat placed in the center of the gym.

I hadn't even looked at my component. I was too buzzy looking at the way the light reflected off the blue mat. The crowd seamed huge even when it wasn't. If I had my guitar I would've been just fine, but instead I was exposing my skin to them; letting them see almost every crevasse of my body without being completely naked. The judges sat in their chair, eyes fixed on the mat. The balding referee stood in the middle of the mat, waiting for me to approach the center.

My feet moved slowly while my heart moving too fast to comprehend. I listened to the speakers, announcing my name and school (pronouncing Iero like area. like really? Not even close.)

"And from Belleville we have Gerard Way" he finished. I looked over to see my challenger facing me. He was taller than I and wearing a cap to keep his hair back. I could see a few strands of black hanging out and wondered just how long his hair really was.

His suit was a red color which didn't do his even paler skin justice. We both shock hands and I could've sworn I saw him wink. I wasn't fully sure though, considering the light was flashing in my eyes still. We both squatted down and looked each other in the eye, waiting for the whistle to be blown. Nerves filled me, twisting my gut and spinning my head. Right before the loud squeak of the whistle, Gerard winked again. I knew it this time. I saw it.

At first, I was too panicked to be able to comprehend what was going on. But before I knew, my component had my on the ground.

I hadn't really bothered to pay much attention during practice, so I didn't know that names of certain moves. All I knew, was that he managed to pin me to the ground, my arm behind my back. I struggled against his grip but I couldn't do much. My stomach and chest pressed against the already sweaty mat. I felt him on top of me, my ass pressing against his crotch. This was probably the gayest sport in human history, not that I minded. I wasn't going to lie and say I hadn't checked out the other players durning practice. The muscles that came from some of these teenage boys were overwhelming, but they still weren't my type. This 'Gerard' guy looked pretty attractive from what I could tell, but the part that got me was that I could feel the absence of his cup. His crotch was certainly hard, but not from the plastic. I almost panicked as he slightly leaned into me, pressing his hard further onto me. He rubbed it on the crevice of my ass cheeks, slightly humping me. He did it so small though so nobody saw, I began to feel my jock strap tightening on it's own accord as I got hard as well. God damn. I didn't know what to do, was this for real? It didn't take long for the whistle to blow and him to leap off me.

I was surprised. Everyone was watching, yet this wasn't an unnatural thing. It seamed like wrestling was such a gay sport but concidered as manly I started to like it. I just got full on humped by another dude and nobody cared. People just cheered for Gerard as we got into positions. This was the really gay part. I had to get on my knees, arms placed flat on the floor in front of me. Gerard got behind me and wrapped his arms around my torso to resume starting positions. His arms around me were warm and I could feel his breath on my ear. I was aware of my ass and how it stuck out, the way Gerard pressed against it with his obvious hard on. I felt it through the fabric and almost wanted to moan, but kept it back. Dear god, wrestling was almost like sex, just with ridiculous fabric.

The whistle blew again and I decided to actually try this time around. Gerard pinned me down again but I wasn't having it. We rolled around on the floor, putting each other in various positions(for wrestling of corse), fighting for dominance. Eventually, he had me pinned down once more. I struggled against his touch, but he kept me down. The whistle blew and he crawled off me again. He had won, two out of three.

We shook the referees hand and then each other's like we were supposed to, each of us covered in each other's sweat.

"Meet me in the boys locker room in five Frankie?" He asked, winking again. His voice was light an girlish. I almost freaked out, how did he know my name? Then I realized they had announced it and relaxed. What did he mean by locker room? Did he want sex? God I felt the act we just did was dirty enough, but then I remembered how hard he made me and his dick in my ass cheeks and I almost nodded too quickly.

"Sure" I mumbled, getting embarrassed. I wondered if the referee had heard. He left and I met my coach again who gave me the whole 'thanks for trying speech', then I made my way to the locker room.

God I loved wrestling.