Frank Iero had very quickly come to the conclusion that he hated Gerard Way, and also that he functioned terribly after waking up without the aid of some sort of narcotic substance, but he did of course soon put a fix to that, and as soon as his whole world started to spin, he knew he was ready to earn his money for the day, and then after this guy, he'd go and get some more weed off that guy downstairs to celebrate, because this guy tipped like hell, and maybe, he even tipped well enough that Frank might even care to learn his name, but of course that was still eternally a long shot.
The twenty four year old despised intimacy like the plague, and much preferred intimacy in a physical manner of a cock in his ass and not a word said about it, and perhaps even without the exchange of names if unnecessary.
And he'd even stretch as far to say that he loved his 'job', because sex was no trouble, especially when you were good in bed, and really when Frank thought about, people were paying him to orgasm. Although, of course, this kind of business came with disgusting freaks and weirdos, but they were usually the type which paid more, and for that Frank pushed any thoughts of regret aside, because at the very least, he wasn't homeless at twenty fucking four.
Not that his family would be all that pleased if they could see him now at all, but the one thing he knew that they should be proud of him for was still not being homeless, and that was how proving his father wrong had become his only goal in life.
Frank Iero Snr. had told his son that he'd end up homeless the very day the eighteen year old at the time, got his first tattoo done, and of course, Frank was a fucking stubborn piece of shit and had from then on dedicated his life to having the last laugh - not that he fancied being homeless under any circumstance.
The twenty four year old pulled his shirt off, after he ensured that his front door was locked - he wasn't going to pull a 'Gerard Way', and still seriously, that guy just wouldn't leave his mind: there was something about that odd naivety and shyness of his that had Frank enthralled and intrigued from day one, and really, Gerard would never be Frank's kind of guy, but he was cute... kind of... and Frank Iero wasn't the kind of guy to say 'no' to sex with anyone.
But, then again, Frank didn't really have a kind of guy at all... Frank didn't really date at all - he'd just fucked, and he just survived, and he didn't make friends - not really. He just had clients and dealers and the people he could manipulate into making his life just that little bit easier, so with that, he pulled his jeans off and rid his mind of twenty eight year old, unlocking the door, and waiting on his bed for his client to arrive, because really, there was nothing that cleared his head like fucking some guy that he didn't even know the name of.
And as he laid out upon the bed, he wondered if maybe he should have drugged himself up just a little bit more, because his head had stopped spinning long ago, and was filled with those stupid thoughts of his family and what he was doing with his life and the 'artist' next door, but it was all too late for that as the door opened and his client walked in - only a smile and a nod exchanged between the two of them as dollar bills were placed upon the dresser and he joined Frank on his bed.
"Good day, Iero?" The client asked, leaving Frank with the thought that possibly now would be a perfect time to remember this guy's name, despite the fact that he was in absolutely no mood for small talk and would rather they just got straight to business.
"Not really." The twenty four year old shrugged it off, running his hands under the guy's shirt, pulling it over his head with a shrug of his shoulders as he continued to pray that their awkward small talk wouldn't be furthered and that he'd be satisfied with what he came for - a fuck, and only that.
"What's wrong, huh?" He furrowed his brows, catching Frank's gaze, and stopping them in what was probably the most awkward moment the not quite prostitute had ever found himself in.
"Look, we're here for a fuck and not a therapy session, come on - just get this started." Frank sighed, pushing the guy down onto the bed and focusing his attention to his client's crotch and the way those jeans clung so tight, and just how that created such a problem for the both of them.
"I don't want you to be unhappy though - people say that sex is never as good when you're upset-"
"Oh, but don't you know how fucking good I am?" Frank smirked, raising his eyebrows. "Do you not know what I can do? Are you fucking saying that I'm not good enough, huh? Scared you won't get your money's worth?"
"Oh not at all, Mr Iero, I'm sure you'll make it worth my while - you know that I don't pay this well for just anyone." He grinned, pushing dark brown hair behind his ears as he let the twenty four year old rid him of his jeans, rendering both of them naked upon Frank's bed, and he still didn't even know this guy's name.
"Oh, I will - I promise." And then everything faded away into that sex haze that left Frank's brain all fuzzy and second in control to his nerves, everything heightened with the pleasure of a fuck, and the way that he knew this was the kind of thing Gerard would hate, and he wanted to piss the guy off, and he still wasn't entirely quite sure as to why, but at the very least, Frank had broadened the horizons of his life by ensuring that he did everything just to better both his father and the cock artist, Gerard Way.
Frank laughed at the fact that he actually called himself an artist - sex wasn't art, porn wasn't art, and it was simply nothing but pleasure: an in the moment kind of thing, and not something to be gazed in the bedroom of the highest bidder. Frank hated that idea in its entirety.
And yet, as much as he hated it, it was all Frank had become, and that was a reality he couldn't hide from forever, despite how much he wanted to. It seemed the twenty four year old was particularly good at lying to his parents and the police, but not himself.
-
Gerard had always known that venturing into the outside world was entirely a bad idea, and that social interaction was of course even worse, and his encounter, and well argument with Frank this morning had done nothing but solidified that belief, yet of course, he'd ran out of cigarettes and it wasn't like he was actually going to survive without any, and so, the awkward and cautious exploration of the shitty council estate began, and only in his search for a fucking store where he could buy some fucking cigarettes.
He did however, remember to check that he was in fact wearing clothes, which at least prevented the possibility of him accidentally going outside stark naked; he didn't particularly want his reputation to mirror that of Frank's, not that the fact that Frank regularly had sex with other people bothered him at all. It wasn't like he actually cared.
Caring about Frank Iero? Gerard thought that none other than an utterly preposterous notion, and he was certain in his belief that things would stay that way.
The estate was just about as clean and sanitary as his apartment was, except without the paint and the pictures of cocks, and the dint in the bed where Frank had been, not that Gerard actually gave a damn about the latter of those things, of course.
It seemed however that luck was on his side, even if just this once, because he only had to walk aimlessly for about five minutes until he stumbled upon a little off-license that looked like it would even sell cigarettes to twelve year olds, so he reckoned that this place would do him absolutely fine, even if the sign was pretty much falling off and had the potential to fall, crush his skull and kill him as he walked under it, but the twenty eight year old reckoned that he was prepared to face that kind of risk for cigarettes.
Needless to say, the shop keeper: a bearded, pot bellied man in his late forties, with one pierced ear and an AC/DC shirt, stared at him for a good ten seconds as the 'artist' walked into the shop. Gerard reckoned that next he wanted to go out without getting eyed up by forty year old obese shop owners, he'd consider wearing jeans that weren't practically skin-tight, but it was far too late for that already, and anyway, he most definitely would have caused much more of a scene if he'd gone out naked, so perhaps this wasn't the worst situation he could be in right now.
And in celebration of that, he decided he'd go browse the back of the shop and get himself some fucking beer or maybe even some actual food or something, or really anything that would stop the guy at the counter staring at him like he was some sort of fucking hooker.
As Gerard disappeared, well hid away in the back of the shop, spending too long browsing, or well, stalling, a second customer walked into the shop - a customer much more friendly with the asshole behind the counter, and largely due to the fact that they did in fact share the same asshole-ish qualities.
"How's it going, dude?"
Gerard overheard the second customer's presence in the shop and simply tried his best not to cringe aloud, because dear god, he was not in the mood to deal with more people right now, and really he just wanted to get out of there as fast as he could, but then, things got worse.
"Alright, Iero, business' not exactly booming, but whenever is it?" The shopkeeper concluded his sentence with a cringe worthy, deep, belly laugh, whereas Gerard was pretty much close to punching himself in the face, because who the fuck else was called 'Iero'?
"Your main customer demographic is fucking thirteen year old kids trying to buy booze and smokes." Frank rolled his eyes, continuing in his conversation, and absolutely oblivious to the presence of his favourite cock artist, not that he knew many cock artists, yet it was questionable whether Gerard would be his favourite even if he did.
"Can convince 'em to pay extra for being underage though, so as long as I'm not getting done for it, then it's all fine by me." Frank reckoned that if he knew this guy when he was younger, he would have downright been his hero and not some asshole that looked at his butt whenever he went and bought cigarettes, but really, when you're a prostitute, people looking at your butt was hardly even worthwhile thinking about, and in fact, the only thing that Frank was thinking about was the fact that he wasn't paying to look at his butt, and really, that was narcissism to an extreme, and in Frank's mind, definitely something to shout about after a couple of shots.
And as soon as the two were engaged in conversation, Gerard decided that he'd just have to discreetly go and pay, and just not attract any attention from Frank fucking Iero.
Of course, that plan went terribly, as of the exact moment he made his way back into the front of the shop, Frank recognised him, and chose to comment upon it as well.
"Looks like enough booze for two there, Gerard."
The twenty eight year old pulled his gaze up to meet Frank's devilish smirk, rolling his eyes and turning away as he paid for the booze and a packet of cigarettes, but of course, the twenty four year old was far too much of an asshole to just leave it at that.
"Who's the lucky fellow you'll be drinking away with tonight then?" Frank inquired as Gerard pulled the plastic bag containing his items from the counter, and attempted to walk out, only for the twenty four year old, having already purchased the packet of Marlboro that been in for, to follow him.
"I'm not drinking with anyone, just fucking leave me alone, Frank." Gerard exclaimed, stopping in his tracks as he came to the realisation that no matter how briskly he walked away, the twenty four year old would still be insistent upon following him.
"Well, as I've said, there's enough booze for two, and therefore that means there's a space for me to tag along." Frank smirked, leaving Gerard to stare at him, wondering just how they'd gotten to this, because he was absolutely certain that they'd ended upon the note of hating one another.
"What the fuck do you want? Aren't we supposed to hate each other?" Gerard asked, confused and tired, but the excuse to stare at Frank's fucking perfectly sculpted face was making up for it monumentally.
"What do you think I want, honey? I'm a whore and you said it yourself." Frank grinned; taking far too much pleasure in the scarlet blush that Gerard broke into in response. "Don't even bother apologising, I'm a fucking prostitute, so think about what I want, Gerard."
"You want fucking sex?" The twenty eight year old exclaimed, looking Frank up and down like he'd just told him that he has an Ebola fetish. "All you do all day is have sex, I-"
"Yeah, but you were right, because sex you get paid to do fucking sucks in comparison to sex you have for fun and I have just experienced what I think is the world's shittiest orgasm, and I was hoping you could fix that." And that fucking wink was either going to get Gerard hard, or get Gerard’s fist to hit him hard in the face.
"I haven't finished that stupid fucking picture of you." Gerard confessed, sighing as he pushed his hair back. "Why do you even want to do this? I'm terrible in bed."
"Well, I'm fantastic in bed, and that'll even out to assure that we're both at least adequate. Not like you were ever going to fucking dom me anyway." Frank rolled his eyes, smirking a little as he started making his way back to the apartment block, leaving Gerard to follow him this time.
"Oh, we're talking that kind of sex?"
"Yes, idiot, I said fun, remember?" Frank rolled his eyes like this was nothing more than a casual matter, which to him it really just about was.
Gerard sprinted a little to catch up with Frank, however soon catching him and his pace, much to the twenty four year old's annoyance, but he really couldn't be bothered to walk any faster than this. "Seriously, though, why? What happened to you hating me?"
"Two things, honey. Two things." Frank smirked, catching Gerard's gaze. "Free booze and those fucking jeans of yours. So tight on your pretty little butt, you know that? Everybody's staring, honey, and they have reason to, because like that, you're just begging for a cock in your ass, aren't you, Gerard?"
"Here's a new idea..." Gerard stuttered out, blushing to the end of the universe, and back. "How about you don't try to get me hard in jeans as tight as this before we get home?"
"Spoils all the fun, though, doesn't it?" Gerard only rolled his eyes in response, watching as Frank shrugged and lit a cigarette. "Seriously though, after witnessing many assholes today, I came to realise that you're nothing but a saint in comparison, and perhaps you do have a point, but I am in no way the relationship type, just the fun sex, type."
"Yeah, I'm not a human interaction person at all, so I guess we agree on something." Gerard shrugged, his arm starting to ache from carrying the six pack of beer in that shitty plastic bag that the shopkeeper probably made out the intestines of children who died in third world countries. "What does 'fun sex' entail, though?"
"What does fun entail? Don't fucking answer that, it's a fucking rhetorical question, you dumbfuck." Frank paused, inhaling a deep breath of his cigarette as they began the climb up six flights of stairs to Gerard's apartment. "Toys. And I'm just hoping you've watched enough porn to know that that doesn't mean I'm going to shove a fucking furby up your ass."
Gerard broke into laughter at that, as some particularly disturbing mental images graced his mind in manner that he just wouldn't forget. "Oh, I watch a lot of porn, don't worry."
"Well, that is reassuring. Do you have problems when it comes to me domming the absolute hell out of you, and not letting you come until I have, because you have to be good to come, don't you, honey?"
"Do you not remember what I said about trying not to get me hard before we've even got home and are in public, because although you are an asshole-"
"Do you want to come at all, Gerard Way?" Frank asked, stopping the two of them with a smirk.
"Do you want this kind of sex at all, because come on, I've figured it out now - I'm the only fucking gay guy you know that doesn't look at you like you're walking porn." The twenty eight year old met him with a wider smirk as Frank sighed, rolling his eyes and muttering a quick whatever, before hurrying up the last flight of stairs, with Gerard at his heels.
"Also are we planning on getting drunk before or after?" Gerard asked as he handed the bag of alcohol to Frank, pulling his keys out of his jeans pocket, and with great difficulty due to the inconvenient nature of pockets on tight jeans.
"After. If it's good I want to be sober during it, and anyway, the alcohol thing was just a ploy to get you to let me in your flat again." And with that stupid fucking smirk, Gerard swore he could punch him, but of course, he daren't fuck up a face as pretty as Frank's.
"You're an asshole."
"Oh honey, I know."
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Hey guys:) I promise you smut next chapter don't worry;) Anyway, if you enjoyed this chapter, votes and comments are appreciated if you want to leave them and remember that I love you all<3