And maybe that was just how it had to be: the artist pressed down against his bed as the whole world faded away, because if Frank Iero was good at anything, it was fucking problems away, and really, it seemed to be a communal effect.
Also, well it was sex with an attractive guy - it wasn't like Gerard was having a bad time here: any way you looked at it.
"Don't fucking move." Frank's tone was rough, and as was the grip on Gerard's hips with which he held the twenty eight year old down against the bed. "You hear me, you fucking slut?" And dear god, Gerard did, but it took everything just to obey him: his senses in overlord, as he was driving himself crazy here.
"Y-yeah, fuck, F-Frank..." His voice was strained out and muffled slightly, yet still, he forced his gaze into Frank's, nodding at the twenty four year old: he was okay, and he certainly wasn't going to give in just yet.
"Yeah, that's right, baby, I'm going to fuck you, and you're going to be a good slut and shut the fuck up, yeah?" And just like that, Frank was pulling Gerard's thighs apart like they were nothing, and the artist melted into nothing at his touch: this was Frank's kind of art, and this time he'd not be the artist, but the subject.
"Yeah." Gerard sighed out, throwing his arms back against the mattress as Frank rolled on a condom and lubed himself up, and really, Gerard couldn't help but be a little on edge: sure, this had happened before, but fuck, this was Frank, and somehow Frank just made everything so much more important than it really was, not that Gerard complained, for the most part, at least.
"God, how are you always so fucking tight, Jesus fucking Christ, I fucking prepped you and everything, god- ah..." Frank moaned out, hands moving down from Gerard's hips to his thighs - spreading them apart and keeping Gerard open.
"Fuck..." Gerard moaned out, wincing a little at first from the stretch, but god, this was Frank, and it wasn't like Gerard hadn't had things up his ass before.
"You want me to fuck you harder, do you?" Frank smirked a little, watching the artist's face: sheen with sweat and his lips completing in with a perfect little explicit 'o' shape, and really, like that, Gerard looked like the whore here, and not Frank.
"Yes-" Gerard began, only for Frank to cut him off, pushing himself further into the artist, and releasing nothing short of the dirtiest moan he'd ever heard from the older of the two.
"Yes what? Manners, you fucking whore - don't forget them." Frank smirked, grabbing Gerard's wrists and pinning them up against the mattress, and leaning over the artist, pressing him down further, and fuck, Gerard would be a liar if he said that he didn't absolute fucking love being dominated like this, even if only by a certain Frank Iero.
"Yes... yes please." Gerard sighed out, groaning as Frank thrust into him with everything he had, and of course, hitting his prostate at the same time, pulling nothing short of a scream from the artist's lips.
"Good boy- fuck..." Frank sighed out, panting a little: he too was fucking hard and over sensitive beyond belief, but he'd put up with the ache and need just to tease and fuck his slut for a few more minutes: Gerard was everything to him, even if he struggled to admit as such. "Such a fucking good boy, I'm so fucking hard for you... I fucking want you... I need you-"
"Then take me." Gerard stuttered out, shaking as Frank continued to thrust into him: sloppier than before, and with only a vague notion of rhythm, but fuck, he didn't care: it felt too good for him to even consider caring. "Take me, Frank."
"I'm tempted, fuck, I'm tempted, but you're not begging enough, are you?" Frank grinned at that, thrusting forward again, and nearly letting go in the process, because fuck, Gerard was one tight slut, but not one that deserved it, at least not yet anyway.
"I'm sure this was your rent payment, wasn't it, Frank? So just fuck me, huh, how about that?" Gerard smiled a little, only to be cut off as Frank began to fuck him harder in response.
"I'm sure little sluts only do as they're told, so, if you want to come, Gerard, you're going to have to beg for it - fucking how about that?" Frank was practically yelling at him by now, leaving Gerard more than a little scared, but far too turned on to care. "You're not supposed to boss me around, I'm not the slut here, remember. You and me - this is when you're the slut and I'm in control, and that's why I love fucking you so much."
"I love being fucked by you." Gerard admitted, grinning up at Frank: eyes wide, and it was clear that he was so damn close.
"God, you're close already, aren't you?" Frank almost laughed, slowing the rhythm a little, teasing the fuck out of Gerard, and just because he could.
"Y-Yes.." Gerard words were choked out as Frank's hands moved down his body to his hips and then to his dick: fucking hard, and unbelievably so, of course. "Please, Frank, please-"
"See, begging, that's what I was talking about." Frank smirked, wrapping his hand around Gerard's base, and watching as the twenty eight year old practically fucking moaned in response. "Don't fucking come until I tell you to - until I let you. You're mine like this, remember that?"
"I couldn't forget it." Gerard promised him: words littered with breathy little moans as he struggled to obey the younger, because although, at times, it was all he felt like he was meant to do, but right now, when Frank was fucking him like this, not coming was practically goddamn impossible.
"Course you couldn't." Frank smirked, thrusting into Gerard before he even knew what was happening, and god, with that fucking scream, Frank was coming everywhere, in and that ecstasy, he squeezed Gerard, moving his hand up to the tip, but Gerard was coming before he even managed that.
"Fuck... Frank...." And of course, Gerard came, moaning Frank's name, and really, if Frank hadn't just come that would have been enough to completely send him over the edge.
Frank moved away from Gerard, tying up the condom and throwing it into the bin in the corner, before lying back on the bed beside Gerard.
"So, you reckon that's rent payment enough?" Frank asked, grinning a little.
"Yeah, like this, you can stay until you're seventy." Gerard admitted, turning to smile at the twenty four year old.
"Yeah, I doubt I'll live to seventy, but whatever."
"Don't die on me, Iero." Gerard snapped, his tone deadly serious.
"I won't, I promise."
-
By the next morning, Gerard was fucking inspired, not that it was exactly unlikely that actual sex would somehow inspire him to keep painting porn for weird creepy old men who bought it off craigslist and the like, but whatever, it paid the bills, and the inspired buzz was probably the best thing he'd felt in a long time.
Frank was just a little surprised to find Gerard up at the crack of dawn, painting a dude that looked suspiciously like Frank, just with lighter hair, having an orgasm, when he got up to go to the bathroom, and overwhelming need to piss or not, he found himself staring at the artist, because, of course, he was painting whilst dressed in absolutely fucking nothing.
"I know you love my ass, but staring at it whilst I'm trying to concentrate is kind of distracting." Frank jumped more than just a little at Gerard's comment, the artist meeting his gaze in the mirror that Frank didn't even know he'd set up beside his work.
"Then you shouldn't paint naked, especially in a flat where the door doesn't even fucking lock and you have to put a chair up against it just to stop random people from walking in." Frank groaned: tired, and not exactly ready to deal with Gerard's remarks, and far more prepared to just go back to sleep, but Gerard's ass really was distracting.
"But where's the fun in that?" Gerard grinned in the mirror, 'stretching', and really just moving his ass, and god, Frank was far too tired for this.
"It's like six in the morning, how are you even awake?" Frank sighed out, still having not just gone to piss, and remained stood in the doorway, trying his best not to just directly stare at Gerard's ass, but then again, it wasn't entirely like the artist minded at all.
"Inspiration. Woke up like an hour ago with like an uncontrollable urge to paint, so I made some coffee and got naked and started to paint, now I have a masterpiece that looks suspiciously like you, and I wonder just who's to blame for that."
Frank only rolled his eyes in response, hiding just how much he really did love Gerard painting him like this. "You got naked to paint?"
"Of course. I always get naked to paint, I mean, the first time, when you were there... I was uhh... kind of nervous, but... to make art, I feel like I have to be naked." Gerard admitted, blushing just a little as he thought back to the first time he had painted Frank.
"And I thought I was the slut..."
"Sex is an art too, you create something, even if it's just an orgasm, but that's something beautiful I-"
"Just an orgasm? Shut the fuck up, Gerard Way." Frank shook his head, almost as if he was entirely disappointed with the artist, before finally going to have the fucking piss he'd gotten up to have, and not to stare at his kind of boyfriend's ass as he painted what was kind of him.
"Make me coffee, will you?" Gerard asked as Frank made his way out of the bathroom.
"Have you ever thought that I might have just wanted to go straight back to bed?" Frank groaned out, but made his way into the kitchen nonetheless: Gerard Way's ass did unspeakable things to him, to say the least.
"Yeah, but I really need a cup of coffee." Gerard shrugged it off, smirking as he heard the kettle start to boil, and turned to probably look at Frank for the first time. "Thanks... for the coffee."
"Yeah, I'm make myself some too, this isn't just for you, asshole." Frank rolled his eyes, grinning to himself, because maybe, just maybe, he was just a little bit in love with Gerard Way and his fucking dick paintings.
"So you're not planning on going back to bed then - coffee, huh? You want to watch me paint, or just stare at my ass?"
"Both." Frank sighed out, bringing a cup of coffee over to Gerard. "Shall I just put it here?" He gestured towards the spot on the table where he'd set up his paint.
"Yeah, just make sure that it's not next to the fucking paint water - I've made that mistake before and it's not exactly fun." Gerard rolled his eyes as Frank giggled a little, placing the coffee down and the making his way over to the sofa, holding his own cup in his hands as he sat there with his knees pulled up to his chest and definitely watching Gerard paint and not just his ass.
"I like living with you, you know." Frank admitted after a few minutes of silence: Gerard still hadn't even touched his coffee yet, far too focused upon the paint that looked entirely too much like Frank, even though it wasn't supposed to.
"Yeah?"
"I don't really like putting up with other people, but I'd say that you're a definite exception. I just wish that it didn't have to be like this, with that fucking guy, and with him texting me, just fucking threatening me all the time. Fuck, I wish, I could fuck people again, like I wish I could properly give you rent, like fucking hell, I'm drinking your coffee right now, I-"
"Frank, come on, look-" Gerard put his paintbrush down at that point, making his way over to the sofa and sitting down beside Frank - still fucking stark naked. Frank had put sweatpants on, at the very least. "I like having you here too. It's okay, we'll be okay, and I don't want you to have to get fucked by random guys just to live."
Frank shrugged, leaning against Gerard a little. "This isn't permanent though - what you said about me staying here until I was seventy... this isn't going to work that long... we're not going to work that long."
"What makes you say that?"
"Ge- I just... I just know."
-
It was just another day, and just another load of shit: nothingness that meant everything, and everything that meant absolutely nothing, well truly.
Mikey Way was in a bittersweet love hate relationship with his existence, and Alicia Simmons was the pushy third wheel, but Mikey was beyond glad to have her there, otherwise he really would have absolutely no incentive to get out of bed in the morning.
He perhaps wouldn't go as far as to say that he was in love with her: he was in love with himself, of course, she was second best, but she didn't need to know that- in fact, she definitely did not need to know that when she was making him breakfast in her underwear, fuck.
Mikey was tired as fuck: having stayed up until at least one contemplating the meaning of his existence and the pros and cons of just smothering himself with his pillow. He'd fallen asleep before he could reach any sort of conclusion and all recollection of his thought process last night was long gone with his sanity - nothing more than the power of a Monday morning, of course.
But, he knew as hell that waking up to have his girlfriend make him coffee whilst wearing next to nothing was absolutely worth it, because damn, the coffee wasn't the only thing that was piping hot and making him choke as it burned the fuck out of him, and leaving him to then spend the next few minutes swearing violently - it was entirely necessary, of course.
"You're an idiot, you know that?" Alicia smirked at her boyfriend, raising one eyebrow as she watched the cursing subside in favour of delivering her his full attention: one of the many signs that Mikey Way was completely and utterly in love with her, and really, it hadn't taken Alicia any time at all to catch on.
She kind of liked it, though, even with his utter reluctance to ever accept, let alone admit such a thing, but knowing that Mikey would do anything if she asked was sort of empowering, and probably really fucking corrupt somewhere down the line, but whatever, he was cute and he was in love with her - surely that was enough.
And surely toast and coffee at seven on a Monday morning with her boyfriend wasn't supposed to make her consider grabbing the gun from her wardrobe - that one Mikey was utterly unaware that she owned - and shooting up the whole town, but really, she wasn't a psychopath, she promised.
Anyway, Mikey was fucking cute when he was tired, and that was perhaps enough to subdue her unstoppable hatred of the world for a few hours at the very least.
"Mmm..." Mikey groaned, it taking all of his willpower not to just flat out throw his head down against the kitchen table, and most likely spill his coffee everywhere in consequence, and really, Mikey did not need that sort of motivation to shower, especially not now, on a Monday morning, when he was really just considering running himself a bath and drowning himself in it.
"You look like you want to shoot yourself." Alicia took it upon herself to point out the blatantly obvious, and Mikey only nodded in agreement. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't, though, just saying, I'm looking forward to when we have sex tonight, and I'm really not into necrophilia."
"We're having sex tonight?" And that was enough to motivate Mikey entirely, and in fact, his voice even began to take on a cheery tone, which was just fucking unbelievable in consideration of the circumstance.
"We'll see." Alicia smirked, winking a little, before getting up and grabbing a bottle of vodka from the cupboard.
"We have work in like thirty minutes- are you fucking serious?" Mikey's eyes widened, watching her every move as she unscrewed the cap on the bottle.
"Why not?" She shrugged it off, flashing him a smirk. "You want?" She gestured in his direction with the bottle, and nearly spilling it across the kitchen floor as she did so.
"We'll get fired, Alicia." Mikey reminded her, and really, he hated to be the anchor in the relationship, but fucking hell, he was not chancing getting fired, sure this job was fucked up and boring, but dating his boss had just a few benefits that Mikey found himself rather grateful of.
"Well, you might." She shrugged it off, downing a little and grimacing as she did so. "My supervisor totally fancies me so it's fine, look if he threatens me with it, then I'll just fuck him, and then blackmail him into keeping quiet about it-"
"Yeah, vodka or not, I'd still really appreciate it if you didn't fuck other people." Mikey sighed out, finishing his coffee and getting up, whilst gathering the motivation not to drown himself in the shower, as he really doubted Alicia would be all that happy about dragging her dead boyfriend's corpse out of there, and then she'd be so pissed off with him that she definitely fuck her supervisor - regardless of whether he threatened to fire her or not.
Alicia Simmons was far too good for him, and Mikey knew that like he knew that he absolutely despised the whole fucking world, but then again, so did she, and perhaps that was exactly what they had in common- well, that and their music taste, their hatred of work and actually working.
"Sex tonight, yeah?" She yelled down the hallway after him, and despite the middle finger Mikey threw in her direction in response, she already knew that was a yes, no doubt about it: he was head over heels for her, and she fucking loved it.
She did kind of love him too, well, maybe more than a kind of - she didn't make breakfast in her underwear for just anyone, but she wasn't quite as all out and lovesick puppy-ish as Mikey was, meaning she actually knew the definition of the word subtlety.
She took another swig of the vodka bottle and stashed it back in the cupboard before she could even begin to suspect that she had a drinking problem, because she was totally fine and she totally didn't, and she had a cute boyfriend and a well paying job and surely that was enough, like she wasn't homeless or a prostitute leaving in depressing poverty, but there was no way in hell that she could ever say that she was truly happy.
She needed to just fuck shit up, and she needed to make this menial existence worthwhile, and maybe, just maybe, that vodka was starting to convince her that the gun hidden away in the wardrobe and that the idea of actually using it wasn't such a bad idea at all.
After all, she didn't buy it for nothing.
-
happy fucking valentines day this wasn't as traumatic as usual there you go!!! also if you vote and comment then you're like my valentine 100% now because i'm alone as fuck lmao. i love you all lots<3333