[Okay, I know I was a complete asshole with the last chapter, and I've probably let a lot of you down, and you probably want to like kill me or some shit, etc etc etc, and I'm genuinely sorry, and tbh yesterday I was feeling kinda shit about it all - but it's not your fault, honest. I started questioning things with this story, especially Ryan, but I've decided that nothing's gonna change, Ryan is still going to be ill, but I haven't decided whether he'll die yet. But I promised to make it up to you guys, so I've put some sort of a frackle scene in here for you, though it's not as spectacular as it usually is and it's nowhere near enough to make up for the last chapter. So this chapter has sex in it, etc etc etc, but I hope you like it and I hope you forgive me just a little. Enjoi -xocharr]
On Monday, the bell to signal the end of art class couldn't come quick enough. Gerard had been a teasing little shit all lesson, sucking on the end of his pencil and bending over in the most inappropriate of places, i.e in front of me. So when the bell finally rang, I was more than ready to get his proposition from the weekend started.
"You coming, Frank?" Patrick asked, and I shook my head.
"You guys go on without me. I just need to ask Mr Way something." I told him and Brendon, and they left. I stood up as the door closed, and I went over and locked it before heading over towards Gerard.
"You okay?" He asked, leaning against his desk. He brought his fingers up to his chin and as they twitched, I could tell that he wanted a cigarette.
"Sure." I said, placing my hands on his thighs and leaning up to kiss his neck.
"Brendon's not himself."
"I know." I murmured against his skin, hating how obvious Brendon's pain was.
He paused. "What's wrong with him?"
"I'd tell you, but...it's not my place to say." I moved one hand from his thigh to his crotch, squeezing a little, deciding to change the subject and move things forward a little. "I think you should get on the desk, Mr Way."
"I - wh- oh." He said, suddenly realising, and then he sat on the desk, my hand still in place on his body.
I trailed kisses up his neck, standing between his legs, palming him through his jeans. He gasped, his hands on my shoulders, his nails digging in as I applied more pressure. I bit down on his neck at the same time my hand tightened, and he let out a low moan, his head tilting back.
"I think you're gonna have to be quiet, Sir, otherwise I might just have to use my tie to gag you or something." I pushed him back, climbing on top of him and straddling his waist, I leaned down, my face close to his. "But you'd love that, wouldn't you?" I whispered. "Because you're a filthy whore, and I think you've always wanted to be tied up." I slipped his jacket off of his shoulders and dropped it to the floor, pulling his shirt over his head. I undid my tie and played with it in my hands, smirking to myself. He watched me, his eyes wide and on every single movement I was making. I left my tie in a roll on the desk beside us. "Just in case." I told him, slipping off of him and the desk while unbuttoning my shirt and dropping it to the floor.
"What are you -"
"Sit up." I cut him off, biting my lower lip. I stood between his legs and unbuckled his belt, and he lay back, lifting his hips so I could pull his shoes and pants off. "Typical," I smirked. "couldn't be bothered to wear underwear, could you?"
"Shut up." He muttered, his face flushing almost as red as his hair, and I just smirked wider, walking my fingers up his bare thigh.
"I think I should be telling you to do that to be honest."
"Do it then, you teasing little fuck."
I hummed to myself, leaning down and kissing up the inside of his thigh, knowing just where to bite down and just where to run my tongue. I licked up the underside of his shaft, reaching the head and circling my tongue around it. His hands went to my hair, tightening considerably when I moved my head lower, taking him into my mouth. He moaned softly, and I let my eyes close, curling a hand around the base.
"Frank, p-please, don't - oh, fuck - I just -" he gasped, thrusting his hips so I took more of him in. "Please -"
I pulled off, looking at him. "What do you want, Mr Way? Tell me what you want."
"I want you to fuck me." He said, not hesitating, not even stumbling on his words. "Now."
"I don't have anything, though."
"What makes you think I care?"
I kept eye-contact with him as I unbuckled my belt and pushed my jeans down to my knees, stepping closer to him. I pulled my underwear down also, letting him wrap his legs around my waist as I lined up with him.
"Sure?" I whispered, my mouth once again at his neck.
"If you don't fuck me right now, I'm never going to ask you to fuck me ever again."
I held my breath as I pushed inside him, my hands firmly on his thighs, and I heard him gasp. He groaned as I slid in further, his chest against mine, his head tilting back.
"I forget how tight you can be sometimes, fuck..." I muttered, nipping at the exposed skin and hearing him moan a little. He was trying to be quiet, after what I'd said, but I didn't want quiet. I wanted the risk of us getting caught; it was better that way. "C'mon, Gee. Let yourself moan for me."
"But you said - ohh, shit!" I'd pulled out and slammed back into him, while biting at his neck, and I could feel the shivers run down his spine.
"Since when did you listen to me anyway?" He responded to my question with a smile, and I placed my hand on the back of his neck, pulling his mouth down to mine. The kiss was slow and heavy, and my tongue slipped past his lips, invading his mouth and holding his prisoner.
The absurdity of the situation hit me a few minutes in; I was screwing my art teacher on his desk in school. I'd be lying if I said that I hadn't wanted it to happen since day one, but when it was actually happening, it seemed like the most reckless thing to do. And that was a good thing.
I was certainly doing something right, because soon he was panting and gasping and swearing and rocking his hips in time with my thrusts and it was just fucking perfect. It shouldn't have been, because c'mon, I've had sex in better places, but somehow it just, I don't know, fit.
"Oh my God..." He breathed towards the end, accompanying it with a moan. "Please, Frank - please just - touch me, please -"
"I think you should do that yourself, baby." I whispered in his ear, not once slowing down, keeping a steady yet satisfying pace. He seemed to enjoy it, dragging his fingernails down my back and leaning back a little when I told him to.
"Frank -"
"Go on." I took his hand and guided it to the base of his cock, leaving him to do the rest of the work. "You know you want to."
His teeth sunk into his lower lip as his hand began to move up and down, and I was aware of it between us as I felt myself get close. Just seeing him get himself off made me go there even faster, and soon I was coming deep inside him, hot and messy and exhilarating. And then it was his turn, the substance slipping over his hand as he tilted his head back, allowing me to suck a purple mark on his skin that proclaimed he was mine.
And fuck, it felt good, because there was no principal to cockblock us this time.
~
"Thanks for this." Ryan said, as I closed the door behind him.
"It's no problem." I led him upstairs, and Jodie chose that moment to walk out of her room.
"Is he your boyfriend?" She sneered, and I scoffed.
"I wish." I pulled Ryan into my room and closed the door behind us, pointing towards my bed. "What's up?"
He sat on the edge of my bed and I joined him, clasping my hands together. He glared at me briefly, probably for the boyfriend comment, before speaking. "I don't want you to be sad. I told Brendon and the other three, and I told them that I don't want them to be sad about my...illness. I don't want you to dwell on it or let it take over your emotions. I just want you guys to carry on as normal, and not worry about me."
"Are you serious? Telling Brendon not to worry about you is like telling Pete to not stare at your crotch after you've told him not to stare at your crotch."
"I know, but..." He shrugged. "I just don't want to bring everyone down, y'know?" He looked down at his lap. "You guys are my best friends, and I hate the thought of you being upset because of me. I know it's not my fault, but still...we don't know that anything's gonna happen yet, it's early days, so..." He licked his lower lip. "I don't want to assume that anything's gonna happen, because nothing might happen. B-but if I do die, you'll look after Brendon, won't you? He's been a mess since I told him and I don't want him to do anything stupid." He looked at me pleadingly. "Please?"
I nodded. "Yeah, yeah I will."
He smiled. "Thanks, Frank."
He stayed for a little while longer, and it was odd because Ryan and I had never spent any time alone before. Brendon was usually with us, or Patrick and Pete, or Ray - someone was usually with us. I realised that Ryan wasn't as quiet as he seemed - he was always in Brendon's shadow. But he didn't mind that; he preferred it that way, with Brendon getting the most attention.
After Ryan left, my mom called me downstairs. With a heaving sigh, I left my room and headed down the stairs, and into the kitchen. Jodie, my stepfather and my mom were sat at the table, and my mom was holding something rectangular in her hands.
"Sit down." She said, and I sat opposite the three of them, feeling slightly intimidated. "What is this?"
She slid the rectangular sheet across the table towards me, and I snorted laughter when I saw what it was. It was one of the photos of Gerard. It was of him lying on the bed, his left arm up and on the pillow beside him. His lower half was out of shot, but by the expression on his face and the fact that his right hand was also out of shot, I knew that he'd been touching himself through the panties. It was one of my favorites, and I'd made myself a copy of it, keeping it in the top drawer of my nightstand to hide it from the others. But clearly, they'd been through my stuff again.
"It's a photograph." I said, considerably less intimidated now.
"Who is it of?"
"My boyfriend."
"Boyfriend?" The three of them peered over the table at the photograph.
"Okay, I know he looks feminine but he doesn't look that feminine. He's not a girl." I picked up the photograph, smiling at it before looking at the three across the table. "Don't you think he looks beautiful?"
"He looks old; how old is he?" My stepfather asked, his eyes narrowed.
"Older than me." I replied, reluctant to tell them how old Gerard actually was.
"By how many years?"
I paused. "Six."
"Six years?! That makes him twenty-four!" My mom cried. "Where on Earth did you meet this man?"
He's my art teacher. Did you know he's great at sex? "Strip club." I found myself saying. Uh, okay then.
"Since when did you go to strip clubs?"
"Since I decided that I can do what I like seeing as you lot don't give a fuck about me." I gave a sarcastic thumbs-up, and my stepfather scowled.
"Don't tell me; he's one of the acts." He said.
"Of course. He's really good, though." Okay, all of a sudden my boyfriend was a stripper. Seemed better than my art teacher, I suppose. "He knows all the moves." I smirked, and they all grimaced.
"I hope you're being..." My mom and stepdad shared a glance. "...safe."
"No, Mom. He has STDs by the dozen and is giving them all to me as a romantic gesture." I said sarcastically. "Why are we having this conversation?"
"When you've got photos of strange men in your drawers, I kind of want to know who they're of, Frank."
"You shouldn't be going through my stuff anyway! Look what happened last time!"
"If I hadn't done that last time, you wouldn't be here!" I groaned in frustration, standing up and leaving the room with the photo. "I want you to invite him over."
I choked on air, spluttering in the doorway. "What?!" I cried, turning around.
"I want to meet him, Frank. Invite him over to dinner on Friday, please."
I was too flabbergasted to speak, so I just nodded and retreated to my room, dialling Gerard's number on the way. I hoped he'd be amused by his choice of job than annoyed that they knew about him.
"Hey, beautiful. What's up?" He said cheerfully, and I closed the door, placing the photo on my nightstand and lying on my bed.
"My - uh - my mom wants you over for dinner on Friday." I said, biting my nails and staring at the ceiling.
There was a pause. "You told her."
"Not exactly. She found one of the photos of you and asked who you were."
"What did you tell her?" I didn't reply. "Frank, what did you tell her?"
"I don't know how, or why -"
"Frank."
"- but I told her that you're a stripper."
There was another pause, but when he spoke this time, he was laughing. "A stripper? I'm - I'm a stripper?"
"Apparently so."
"Oh my God, I love you."
I smiled. "You don't mind that I told my mom I'm dating a stripper?"
"I'd much rather that then, y'know..."
"That's a point." I rolled onto my front. "So, stripper boy, when are you going to do a private show, just for me?"
He giggled. "If you behave yourself, maybe next time you come over."
"Ooh, that sounds good. I'd like that. Are you gonna get naked?"
"I might do."
I closed my eyes, still smiling widely. "I love you, Gee."
"I love you too, baby. I still can't believe you told your mom I'm a stripper."
"Hey, it works, shut up. She probably highly disapproves but whatever."
"Does she know how old I am?"
"Unfortunately."
"Oh wow, that's gonna go down well."
"Ah, well. I'll be nineteen soon."
"Yeah, in like eleven months."
"Technicalities, technicalities."
"You're absurd sometimes."
"And you love it."
"Yeah, yeah, sure." There was silence for a few seconds. "Did you tell her about all the sex?"
"I said something along the lines of 'he knows all the moves', so yeah, kinda."
He snorted. "Oh Jesus. What did she say to that?"
"She asked us if we're being safe."
"Of course we are. Even though we kind of weren't today. Speaking of which, thank you."
I frowned a little. "What for?"
"Fucking me on the desk like I asked you to."
I blinked. "Straight to the point, Gerard. As always."
"Oh, you love it. And you also love it when I pin you down and make you squirm, because I know you always ache for me. And you also love it when I moan and whimper for you, because I know you like to dominate sometimes. And because of all of this, I know you love me."
I buried my face into my pillow, blushing furiously. "I hate you."
"No you don't!" He sang smugly. "You loooooove me."
"No I don't. You're mean."
"No, I'm fucking amazing and you love me lots and lots."
I groaned. "You're gonna be a nightmare on Friday, aren't you?"
"Of course, babe. What else?"
I'm gonna kill him.
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I hope you like this one more than you liked the last, seriously. I'm so sorry for that, you know I am. I hope this makes up for it a little...
If you haven't already, please do go check out the first chapter of my new story; I posted it yesterday, and I'm pleased with it - I'm writing in Gerard's POV again, and yeah, it's different :) I hope you guys like it!
Uh what else, what else...oh ja, thanks to DrSonnyZimmerman for the idea on Frank's mum finding a photo :) if anyone else has any little ideas or scenes I could write, feel free to PM me and I'll see what I can do :3 oh and PotatoYoghurt, I know I forgot the lemons in this chapter, but I promise they'll be mentioned in the next chapter;)
I've got a friend coming down tomorrow and I'll be seeing her, so I'm not 100% sure I'll be able to get a chapter up, but I'll do the best I can to work on it :3
After I've posted this, the story is gonna get to the 4,000 vote milestone and I just wanna say thankyou so fucking much for every single vote, I really appreciate it :) and this has gone over 8,000 comments too, holy frick frack! I promise that if you've commented and I haven't replied, I will reply eventually, I'll sit down and reply to them all at some point, don't worry :3 but yeah, thankyou all so much, I love you all <3
So long and goodnight,
-xocharr <3