You'll Invest Yourself in Me

Dr. Casablancas knocks fiercely at my door. I’ve been avoiding his sessions. I didn’t give him permission to fix me from the inside. He can’t know what goes on in my head. He might find that hole that Frank created in my barrier.

“Gerard?” His voice pushes through the door, breaking the treasured silence between Frank and me.

“You should give him just five minutes.” Frank encourages softly, giving me a dazzling smile. Sometimes, he just needs to understand what could happen if I just do these things. For all I know, Dr. Casablancas could be trying get my heart. Actually, now they might want my beautiful mind.

“I don’t want to.” He looks at me with contempt, not something I like. I’ve never felt like more of a scolded and disobedient child.

I gather my courage and some clothes. I push myself of the bed to scurry to the door. I give Frank a pleading look as he fixes his ruffled clothing and situates him in the chair. It would seem suspicious if Frank was lounging on the bed with ruffled hair and crinkled clothing.

I walk slowly to the chipped, white door. The cold doorknob stings my fingertips as I wrap my palm around it. My grip is loose and breakable, hoping for Frank to stop it and say that it doesn’t need to open the door. Frank doesn’t speak.

As soon as the door is opened and Casablancas is catapulted into view, I yank my hand from the doorknob. My hands wring together while Casablancas scans my room. Once he notices the other presence in the room, a humbled smile materializes on his face. He sticks a small, bony hand out. Frank clasps it in his.

“Hello, Dr. Iero. I hope I haven’t interrupted anything.” Casablancas greets with earnest remorse. Their hands slink away from each other.

“No, I was telling Gerard that he should give you chance.” Frank replies with a small laugh, eyeing me up inconspicuously.

“If you have the time, would you watch the session and tell me anything I do wrong?” Casablancas rambles nervously, eyes flashing between Frank and the floor.

“No problem.” Frank replies, sending a wink to me.

*

I don’t want him breaking my barriers anymore. I haven’t replied for the last ten minutes. They’re annoyed with me. Though I don’t care, I can feel them breaking my barrier down completely with each thing I say.

“Where do you want to go after you get out of here?” Casablancas asks vaguely, not really expecting a real answer.

”You should just stay inside your barrier.” Rachelle informs.

Fuck. Now this kid knows how to produce loaded questions. This is the same thing that happened with Dr. Iero. I can’t let another hole be broken into my barrier. I don’t believe that Casablancas cares about me at all. This is just a learning experience he needs for graduation. He was most likely forced to Ancora for a credit.

“Where do you plan to go when you get out of here?” Shit. I’m adopting Frank’s habit of redirecting attention. His questioning smirk knows it. Those sparkling eyes know it.

Casablancas looks at me suspiciously, tapping his pad of “notes” with a chewed pen cap. He slips the pen around his fingers in order to put the inked tip to the page. Coffee irises are pointed my way, eyelids drooping tiredly. He scribbles words down endlessly, never breaking eye contact. I want to show him my strength and superiority, but fuck, this is intense.

I clear my throat and break the excruciating eye contact with Casablancas. “How much longer?” My newly uncontrolled eyes find Frank’s. He shrugs gently in his chair. My eyes fall back into their intense coffee cage. He adds onto his pile of words.

“How much time will it take for you to answer my question?”

“Is that really necessary? Shouldn’t you be asking him about his disorder?” Frank speaks up. No, he shouldn’t be asking about that. I don’t want to tell him anything about me, let alone my disorder.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to address the issue so bluntly.” Dr. Casablancas wonders weakly.

“Well, why don’t you go and think of some questions that would be less obvious?” Frank advises. “Plus, it’s time for my session with him.”

I love him. I love that he doesn’t write about my mind on paper that could end up anywhere. He helps me. He helps me fend off the annoying creatures of my mind. He saves me.
Casablancas nods his head understandingly, mouth open in a quiet noise of recognition. He gathers himself and hops off the chair, slinking out the door of Dr. Iero’s office.

“Fuck.” I mutter as slump onto him. Frank nervously shifts under me. I cradle his face in my hands, fingers digging gently into his scalp. I bring his lips to mine, then mumble, “Thank you.”

“Gerard, not here.” He nudges my hips lightly and nods towards the door of his room. I stand and head towards his office door to shut and lock it. I sway towards his desk.

“How about here?” I ask innocently as I lift myself onto the cold surface. He bites his lip indecisively. I scoot back on the desk, which forces my legs to spread wider. He creeps closer with a look of frustration. My fingers fumble with hem of my shirt to take it off, and then I lean back, hands gripping the edge of his desk. Frank nestles himself in between my legs, his hips meeting the inside of my thighs. I moan gently at the sensation.

His hand wraps around the back of my neck as his lusty honeys meet my murky green eyes. “You’re killing me.” He mutters before his lips ravish mine. It’s a love/hate relationship between my bottom lip and his teeth. I hate that he found out that it drives me crazy when he bites it.

I wrap my legs around his waist to pull him closer, feet crossing at the ankles. His hips grind against me. One hand remains clasped on the back of my neck, while the other roams over my torso, stopping to thumb over my nipple.

As he continues his movements, sweet moans tumble from our lips. He takes advantage of the space it takes for each moan to escape my lips, sneaking his tongue in to massage it against mine. His hands move down to my hips, fingers digging into the skin. He pushes my hips towards his at the same time he grinds down harder than before. He nibbles on my lip again, pulling away slightly. I make a very needy whine.

Fingers nimbly fall down, slipping beneath the waistband of my pants. I pick myself up a little to help him tug them down. He pushes my shoulders back. I rest on my elbows, looking down at him. He trails his lips down my chest, kissing my scar when he reaches my stomach. He dips his tongue into my bellybutton, which makes me convulse and moan, earning a seductive smirk from Frank. His hand sneaks up to start a slow pace of stroking me. I watch him with wide eyes. His lips kiss each hipbone before going lower.

His plump pout kisses the tip of my cock, and then he licks a stripe up the underside. “Fuck,” I shudder when he wraps his lips around the tip, tonguing at the slit. His hand grips harder around the base as he takes more of it into his mouth. My hand travels down to entwine itself in Frank’s chocolate tufts, tugging gently but not controlling his movements. That encourages him to start a faster pace, swiping across the tip each time. Beautifully sloppy noises erupt from him.

“hmm, Frank,” He starts to undress himself as he continues his pace. His fingers unbutton his waistcoat and shirt. I would complain about that being my job, but it’s so hot watching his pretty mouth continue to wrap around me while he’s desperate for his own sexual satisfaction. Once he gets his shirt is off, he wraps his sweaty palm around me again. He palms himself with the other hand. My moans become louder and more drawn out. He takes the hint and starts to tighten his lips and hand. His quickens the pace, taking me deeper. When he swallows around my cock because the tip hit the back of his throat, I give up and cum with a moan. He swallows dutifully before letting my cock fall from his lips. He licks and kisses the tip before standing up to kiss my lips heatedly.

He unbuckles his belt and pushes his pants down, freeing his engorged member. Fuck, he wasn’t wearing underwear. He pulls me off the desk and lays down on it himself, leaning back on one hand while the other searches in a drawer for lube.

“I, uh, have never ridden anyone before.” I murmur embarrassedly. If my body wasn’t so heated, I would feel myself blush.

He looks at me with blown pupils and a mischievous grin. “Figure it out.”

*

“How are we gonna get you out of here?” Frank asks, folding one leg over the other knee.

“Am I getting out of here?” I inquire, still fairly flushed and flustered.

”Nope. Never. Non. Jamais.“ Ray knows more French than I do.

“Maybe,” His eyes meet mine, swiping over my disheveled position. “How are the new meds?”

“I don’t know. Ray’s still here.”

“Are his visits lessening? Do you hear or see him less?”

This would be the first time that I’ve heard from Ray for a while. That’s probably because I spent the whole day with Frank, not because of the devil pills. Ray detests being anywhere near Frank(especially when he’s being “Dr. Iero”).

“I see him less,” I inform him. “And his insults are weakening.” I don’t know if I’m really lying or not. I mean, Ray’s last comment is easily ignorable(not just because half of it was in French). Ray is becoming less vicious. He can’t make jokes about my failed suicides or my insanity. He’s stuck with just feeble attempts at lowering my self-esteem. With the help of Frank and his constant compliments, it’s really hard not to have a big ego.

Frank’s eyes light up at my confession. “That means we really get to talk about how we’re getting you out of here.” His lips curl into a huge grin, one side lifting higher in the other to form a literal crooked smile.

“Wouldn’t it be kinda suspicious if I went to live with you?” My bottom lip is sucked into my mouth and tucked between my teeth. My fingers fumble tunelessly on the soft cushion of the chaise lounge. (I finally found out what that couch-bed-chair thing in a shrinks office is called!)

Frank shrugs his shoulders. “We just make up a small, white lie.” His eyes sparkle with a mischievous glint. He must be trying to kill me with that smirk.

“How are we going to do that?”

His shoulders pull into a shrug again. “We can make up a fake aunt, find a childhood friend, or, y’know, a real relative.”

“You saw me in high school. I didn’t have any friends. I barely went to school.” I bite weakly, “It wouldn’t even be believable.”

“You don’t have any relatives?” Frank asks with a voice filled with pity. I shake my head gently.

“Not any that would care,”

“I could pay a hooker to pretend she’s your girlfriend?” Frank suggests seriously. I regard him with disbelieving eyes.

“What?”

“I was joking. I wanted you to smile, but obviously it was a stupid idea.” Frank slides off his chair and kneels beside the chaise. His hand finds its way to mine and his lips do the same. I smile against them and press back harder. “And, obviously that wasn’t.” He smiles at me. “We’ll figure out something soon.”

Notes

Fuck I hate myself, I had this done 2 weeks ago and I forgot to upload it. I found when I started the next chapter. But that means you'll get another chapter sooner!

So today my mom was watching perks of being a wallflower and this was our conversation.(You don't have to read it. It's actually quite stupid.)
Mom: I'm watching my future son-in-law. Wait, which one? Logan Lerman or Ezra Miller?
Me: Both
Mom: But, I'm pretty sure Ezra's gay.
Me: NO HE'S BI SO I HAVE A CHANCE!
Mom: Would you really be okay with a bi husband?
Me: why?
Mom: He might want to hang out with some boys.
Me: He can just bring the boy home.
Mom: *stares at me with concern*
Me: *terrible wink cuz I can't wink*
Mom: *leaves room abruptly*
Me:ESPECIALLY IF THE BOY IS LOGAN!

You all have beautiful minds.
-Alex Miller-Lerman