Of Lust, Passion, and the Thievery of Innocence
ONE
"Aah!" A scream tears from my lips as a towering stack of books tumbles across my lap. Pages rip from their bindings and covers bend into themselves. Loose leaf papers that I'd tucked amongst important passages fly about, landing at my feet on top of clothes--dirty and clean--and other various objects.
Sighing, I begin to pick everything back up, piling it in my lap. Looking around my apartment, I know that I'd made the right decision in giving up my lease. I need someplace bigger, someplace to better suit my needs.
Instead of simply restacking the books, I throw them into a cardboard box and begin packing. I almost have all of my shit in the boxes when my cell phone vibrates in my pocket. I don't look at the caller ID before answering, but instantly know who it is anyways.
"Frankie, sweet heart, how are you?" My mother's shrieking Jersey accent doesn't wait for my response. "Rememba' how we were gonna go lookin' for apartments tomorrow?"
"Yeah, what's--"
"Well, somethin' came up and I can't go with you anymore, so I called someone who'll go. 'Parently he knows bunches 'bout buying places, 'n' I told him just what you're lookin' for. He'll do you some real good."
"What? Mom, who?"
"I don't rememba' his name, sweet heart, but you're meeting him at 1211 Elk Lane at eleven tomorrow morning. Kay? He'll help you find a real nice place."
"Oh, he's a real estate agent." I nod to myself. It all makes a bit more sense, now.
"Of course, he's a real estate agent. Ya' think I just found some random man for you to buy an apartment with? 'He's a real estate agent,' Jesus."
"Okay, Mom, thanks for letting me know," I roll my eyes and flop onto the sofa.
"Of course, sweet heart. Good luck finding an apartment; love you."
"Love you, too."
* * *
I clamber into the driver's seat of my car, glancing at the clock as I turn the key in the ignition. "Ten fifty two, you say? Well fuck you, time. I'll be there before eleven, watch me."
Ten fifty four, I run a red light. Ten fifty five, I cut some college girl off and she flips me the bird. Ten fifty seven, I ripslide onto Elk Lane, and by ten fifty eight I'm parking in front of an apartment building--address 1211. "Bingo," I smile to myself and jump from the car.
A tiny constriction occurs in my stomach when I realize I have no idea who I'm looking for. I have this issue with panicking, you see. I take deep, steady breaths in an attempt to calm myself as I open the door to the apartment's office.
"Hello," A pretty blonde receptionist grins at me from behind her desk. "How can I help you today?" She tilts her head to the side, and her hair tumbles to reveal her neck. I guess that she wants to flirt, or at least try to capture my attention. It doesn't do much to repeal my anxiety.
My hand flits to my hair, and I tangle my fingers in it. "Hi, I'm looking for, em, well, I actually don't know his--"
"Mr. Iero?" A voice sounds from behind me, and I turn to find its source.
All possibility of relieving myself of my panic dissipates.
It's as though all magestic happenings of our world--rose-tinted clouds drifting to hide vast mountains, the hushed moaning and arched back of a climaxing female, generations of family gathering to witness the joining of a couple in matrimony, a breathless Japanese cherry blossom falling from its branch and floating in the breeze--combined before me to create the total epitimy of sex. He's tall, clad in a semi-casual black suit that clings to his lanky frame, and holding a small, sleek briefcase. But his face, oh, his face. His skin is smooth and creamy, bordering on olive. His arched brows give him an air of delicacy and bring out his eyes, which appear to be a light brown. A light nose sits respectively where it should, and his lips pull up slightly at the corners. Black hair curtains over his face, almost covering an eye, and is the only one of his fine features that could be considered disheveled. Even so, it's beautiful.
My breath hitches in my throat, and I can't look away. I know that if I could just drag my eyes from his stunning figure I would be able to inhale, provide much needed oxygen to my brain, but I simply cannot do it. The man seems to notice, and takes a long stride to my side. "Hey, hey, sit down. What's wrong? Are you alright?" His gorgeous voice pushes hot air onto my cheek as he pulls me forward into a chair. I can't see him anymore, as he's sitting beside me and I can't move. Well, quaking doesn't count. I need to breathe.
Dammit, this is so embarrassing.
Breathe.
What does he think?
Breathe, breathe, breathe.
"Breathe," He whispers in my ear, and I feel his hand rubbing circles on my back. I'd think it would make me even more nervous, or hurry the black that was cascading my vision, but it's actually relaxing. I suck in raspily through barely parted lips, relief flooding my system. As the man continues massaging my back, I calm.
When I feel mostly normal, I cautiously turn to look at him again. To my utter happiness, I don't flip shit this time. He is really, really close now, though, and I have an open view of his eyes. What I thought before to be light brown was actually a shocking gold, swirling at the center to a gentle green. Flecks of a paler gold pull it all together, creating the illusion that his eyes are tiny universes, staring me into another dimension where he is the sun. I'm falling in orbits around him, and I don't even know is name.
"H-hi," I manage. Wow. I'm really taking some strides with that one.
"Hi," He smiles, revealing teeth of the gods, and laughs like an angel on exctacy. "I'm Gerard Way," He speaks slowly and with a silly grin, almost mocking me, "and I think I'm supposed to be your real estate agent?" I nod, feeling my cheeks heat. "Okay, good. Are you alright?"
I nod again. "I think so, yeah."
"What happened?" He asks the dreaded question, rising to his feet and helping me up after him via my hand.
"I, um... I get ner--uh, anxiety." Nervous hadn't seemed like the right word, because that would make it too obvious that he is making me nervous.
But damn, I don't think I've ever stuttered this much.
"Oh, okay, I'll keep that in mind," He releases my hand, leaving me feeling cold without his splendid touch. "Wha' do ya' say we check out some apartments?" He slurs in a way only describable as sexy.
I smile shyly, looking at the shiny tile beneath our feet. "Sounds good."
My eyes flash up and I watch him slink to the receptionist's desk. Oddly, she looks disinterested in him. What, why? He's thousands of times more handsome than me.
My agent (ha, he's mine) speaks formally. "We'd like to visit your open flat. What was it, mm..." He squints and glances at me, apparently trying to remember something. "Room 16A, I think, was the preferred size and had the kind of facilities we're looking for."
"Yup," She smacks her lips and I want to smack her. She digs around in a drawer for a moment, and Gerard meets my eyes while we're waiting. A small smile appears and his gaze drops down, unabashedly checking me out. Wait, checking me out? No way. I follow his stares and note my torn blue jeans, ratty Converse shoes, and dirty band t-shirt. Fantastic, he probably thinks I'm homeless.
Well, you are looking for an apartment, aren't you?
"Here ya' go," The girl holds up a key with a numbered bob. "You have fifty minutes before I go to lunch, you should be back before then." She uses her now free fingers, as Gerard has just taken the key, to scrunch her hair. "Do you know where it's at?"
Gerard flashes her a grin. "Yes, ma'am, I've been here before. Thank you very much."
As he leads me towards a hallway, I hear the receptionist mumble, "...always have to be fucking gay, damnit."
Yes, I'm gay. Sue me. But if you do, sue Mr. Handsome Gerard, too, because he definitely has the homosexual vibe about him. Plus, he checked me out, or at least looked down on my lack of fashion drive. Either way, Way was gay. Ha.
"Notice the quiet halls and oaken doors."
"What?" Confusion momentarily fills my mind as I'm pulled from my thoughts, and my stupidity slips. "Why?"
Gerard laughs and turns to look at me. His countenance screams amusement, and I feel mocked again. Darn. "Because they're nice qualities, and come at no extra charge. It's things like that that make a place nice."
"Oh, right." Blood paints my face in embarrassment.
"Here we are." Gerard unlocks a door, labeled 16A, and holds it open for me. "It's five-hundred square feet, which from what your mother told me--" Great, he thinks I'm a momma's boy, "--is two-hundred some feet larger than your current place, and comes in around a price of seven hundred a month, but I think I can barter it down to at least..."
His voice fades away when I see the place. Light greys and tans build the kitchen, living room, and dining room in an open concept. A few bright colors add finishing touches to the room, and it's nice. As I take small steps forward, I see three navy blue doors that I assume are the bathroom, a closet, and the bedroom. My real estate agent is still yammering on about who knows what when I turn and raise my hand to silence him.
"I effing love it. How soon before I can move in?"
"Woah, there, partner," He grins, stepping towards one of the doors. "You haven't even seen it all, yet. What if the bathroom is a wreck?" He holds the door open and I sigh in relief. The bathroom is perfect, porcelain, and white.
"It looks amazing. I want it. I want it to be mine."
"There's still the bedroom, sweet heart."
I shake my head, not even hearing his endearing terminology. "I'm sure it's fantastic. Don't I have to sign something?"
Before I can say 'huh,' Gerard is behind me, one hand on my shoulder and the other on my waist. "Oh, I think you'll want to see the bedroom, Mr. Iero." His breath is hot I against my ear.
As his hand on my waist slips to my thigh, I stammer, "Frank, c-call me Frank."
I can feel his lips brush my neck, warm and soft. He's close--so close. Gentle fingers pull my hair back and he plants small kisses from the collar of my shirt up to my jawline.
"Shit," I gasp, freaking out. I no longer can see the beautiful room around me because everything is going black. "I can't--I can't breathe--"
I feel my legs liquefy, and then, in what seems like only a few seconds, I'm lying on a soft surface. Tension disappears and I can feel hands on my shoulders, pulling and rubbing slowly but firmly.
"You like being massaged, hm?" I open my eyes to see Gerard, in all his glory, holding himself over me.
We're in a bed, and it's doing nothing for my nerves. The massage, though, is.
I nod to him, gnawing on my lip.
"You..." He says, leaning down and kissing my cheek. "Are..." Another kiss, a little lower. "So... adorable." After a final peck, his lips meet with mine. It's slow at first, testing my willingness I suppose, but as I get a random burst of courage and kiss him back, the contact becomes more and more fervent. He sucks and pulls on my bottom lip, and, after a breathy groan, I go to work on his top one.
As he is holding himself up over me by his arms, my body feels cold and jealous of the attention my mouth is receiving. I put one of my hands over his heart, feeling its steady beating, and the other in the crook of his elbow.
His tongue flicks wetly against my lip, and I eagerly allow him entrance. We ravage each other in a sweet, mouthy embrace, want heavy in all of our movements.
He starts rearranging himself over me, and I break the kiss and tilt my head to see where he's going. Gerard, though, doesn't break mouth-contact and draws his tongue down my throat and to the base of my neck, where he starts sucking at the skin.
He brings his legs forward, then altogether pulls back from my neck to sit on me.
"As much as I love Morissey, this shirt's gotta go." His voice is steady, and suddenly I'm embarrassed by how out of breath I am.
I can't think about it for too long, though, as my tee is being lifted over my head and I have to sit up to aid it's departure. As soon as it's gone, Gerard's hands are moving up and down my chest, fingers tracing my tattoos, and eyes admiring. "So sexy," He mumbles before practically lunging down and attaching his lips to my collarbone. He moves carelessly now, taking his time as he kisses, licks, sucks, and bites my exposed flesh, all the way down to where my hip bone juts over my jeans. With skill and familiarity, he unhitches the button with one hand. His eyes are on mine, passion and lust burning strongly in our universe.
When my zipper is down, the ever-so-slight strain I'd been experiencing from my ever-so-slight wood is instantaneously gone. With a devilishly handsome grin, Gerard crawls back up my body and finds my mouth again. We only make out for a moment before his hand is fondling the hem of my boxers. His fingers slip underneath and I inhale sharply when they skim my cock. It's blissful, mostly, but also tickles a little. I squirm until he presses harder, forcing savory somethings onto my mind and pushing away all other thoughts. His tempo was a slow one, giving me time to focus on lacing my fingers through his hair and moving my tongue with his.
Gerard very suddenly jumps off of the bed, and I whine disapprovingly. He shushes me and grabs my feet, yanking until my shoes come off. I yip as they do, giggling like a little girl. Next, he tugs at my jeans, pulling until they're entirely detached from my body and my legs are bare. They land somewhere on the floor while he rips off my boxers in one aggressively forward motion.
I've been naked in front of men before, but never with a near-stranger, so at first I feel self-conscious. The worry must be showing on my face, though, because Gerard gives me a reassuring look and says softly, "Give me one moment."
He begins stripping away his suit. Watching him do so is very arousing, so I lower my hand and begin pumping myself, growing harder with every stroke. Gerard notices, giving me a lopsided smile before slowing the undressing process and performing more--like a strip-tease. He undoes the buttons of his white dress shirt, gaze locked on mine. I suck on my free hand's index finger, trying to portray to him what I want to do next. He seems to get the idea, pushing his shirt off of his shoulders and letting it fall to the ground before moving to his slacks. It doesn't take much longer and they're gone, too, and he's nude but his boxer-shorts.
Seeing his growing erection volley the thin layer of fabric, I sit up and motion him towards me. He drops back onto the bed, which I notice now is covered with a deep red comforter, and lands with his head in my lap. I lean down and kiss his mouth, only slightly deterred by our upside-downedness. The way his tongue moves against mine now is different and new, and I love the weird feeling.
"Come down," He says when I go up for air.
"What?" I question, brushing a strand of his hair from his face.
"Get down on top of me," He instructs, and I surprisingly understand. I can't help the grin plastered on my face as I crawl forward until my head is level with his pelvis. I easily move my fingers beneath the hem of his boxers and push them down to his knees. His pulsating, veiny cock springs from its confinement and arches toward me, so I take it in my hands and start rubbing him all the way from base to tip. After a few trips up and down, I spit and swirl the saliva around his cock-head, earning an eased moan from below me. I'm about to take in a mouthful of this no-doubt delicious man when something hot and wet touches my own dick. His tongue.
The way he runs from my slit to my balls makes me shudder, and I fight to continue holding my weight above him. When he takes me into his mouth, I can't help but thrust into his throat, loving the sensations of his tongue. "I'm sorry," I stammer when he hacks and pulls off, leaving me without his warmth.
"I was surprised, is all." He coughs. "I want you to fuck my mouth, okay?"
With that, he continues where he'd left off by bobbing his head over my cock. Taking his request for granted, I--slowly at first--push deeper into his mouth. When he doesn't gag or struggle at all, I go farther and more hastily. Realizing I'd been neglecting his needy erection that was throbbing just below my face, I grab him by the base and take him in. Knowing I'll never get down to his hilt, I twist my hand as I suck feverishly about his head and shaft.
When my cock hits the back of his throat, I struggle to continue stroking and sucking him off. He swallows around me, momentarily tightening his oriface and heightening my senses. I release my hold on him to cry out, wanting him to stop.
He does so, but is obviously confused. "What's wrong? Frank?"
As my body calms down, I roll off of him. "I don't want... uh, well, I just want more than sixty-nining, you know?" My voice shakes as I look at the God lying beside me. How in the world did I get myself into this beautiful situation?
"I... I guess so," Gerard sits up, then kicks his boxers off the rest of the way. "But we don't have lube, or... or condoms...."
I, too, sit up, and push Gerard onto his back on a silky white pillow. "I'm clean, I know I am. And I don't need lubrication."
He hesitates for a second, staring up into my eyes before nodding. "Okay, let's do it." So much for 'safe sex.'
I spit on his cock, then straddle him and prepare for entrance. By 'prepare,' I mean convince myself that the pain will go away and that Gerard will be gentle. I hold his cock steady beneath me, take a deep breath, and sink around him.
The tautness of my asshole seems unbearable, and I feel as though I may tear in two. Gerard's trying to hold still, but the involuntary twitching of his cock makes my insides feel raw.
We hold as still as we can in our position until my inner muscles relax and the pain is almost entirely gone. Then, deliberately, I rise up and fall back down over him. A sexy, gutteral sound emits from his the bottom of his throat, making his chest--where both of my hands rest for support--vibrate. His eyes are shut, his jaw is alternating between slack and tense, and his breath comes in short rasps. I admire the angel beneath me as I continue rolling my hips on his, wondering again how the fuck I ended up here. I mean, I'm fucking a real estate agent I met a half an hour ago! It isn't something I do often, and by that I mean never. Not that I'm complaining.
My thoughts are cut short by a particularly loud moan from Gerard when I apparently hit him just right. I can feel him quaking inside me, longing for release.
"Shit," He growls, eyes snapping open. His hands, previously clutching the blankets beneath him, move to my hips, aiding me to harder grind upon him. "Fuck me, Frank. Harder." I follow his command and pick up my pace, gasping for air and clawing at his sweat-slicked chest. He groans again, wilder this time, and his hands reach and cup my ass, pulling me around him. "Oh, shit, I'm gonna--"
"Not yet, you're not," I tsk, immediately pulling off of him.
"No--" He gasps, his face literally pained.
"We've still got fifteen some minutes before we have to leave," I tell him. He moans one last time before pushing me over and crawling on top of me. I bend my legs around him, holding him close, and give him my best grateful smile.
He lines himself up with my entrance and thrusts deep inside, making me groan embarrassingly loudly. I don't have time to dwell on nerves, though, because he very swiftly begins pushing deeper and deeper into me. His hips slap against my uppermost thighs in time with my currently rapid heartbeat. My eyes are shut and I'm enjoying his movements inside me when I feel his hand wrap around my cock. He drives into me and squeezes my dick in fantastic patterns that have me whorishly writhing on the bedspread beneath him, especially when he holds my hips up to better enter me. It doesn't take long before he's slamming into my prostate, building heat in my stomach and forcing a deathly cry from my lips. When he sees my flailing reaction, he continues beating and thrusting into me at the same angle. With his fist still pumping my cock, it very quickly and simply becomes too much.
The sensitivity blows over the top, and I squeeze around him and press backwards into the mattress. I can't handle the explosion of flames in my chest and lower body, and find myself unable to do anything but scream obscenities and curse the world. My cum shoots and lands on my abdomen, warm and sticky.
He keeps rubbing me until I stop shuddering, and then he picks up the thrusting again. I hold his hips as he'd done to me just moments ago, daring him to go deeper and come harder.
When he does, his face screws into a picture of pleasure and his passes become erratic inside of me. "Yes," I encourage him, petting his sides, "Come for me, please,"
With a final gasp and an internal throb, I feel his hot seed coat my insides and wetten my walls.
He remains inside of me until his quivering stops. Pulling out and dropping forward, he attaches his mouth to mine. Lazily, now, we swap spit and flick our tongues across one another's sweaty lips. His limp dick rests on my flat stomach, still weighted but loosing heft with every one of our shaky breaths. "That was something else," Gerard chuckles as he pulls away, a look of... regret? ...in his eyes. Does he regret this? Because I surely don't.
"Fuck, yeah, it was," I smile, stroking his hair and wondering about his emotional intentions as I sit up. He shakily gets to his feet, a smile on his lips.
"What do you say we get everything cleaned up?" He takes my hand and helps me to my feet. His internal frets suddenly don't matter, because I just had an amazing time and I could care less about how he feels in respect to his job or whatever. He's the one who took me into the bedroom and he made the original move.
The nerves are gone, replaced by a sense of accomplishment and gratification. Sweet, sexy gratification, granted by who could be no less than a god of lust, passion, and the thievery of innocence.
* * *
"You need to sign here and here, and your initials here, please." Gerard hands me a pen, pausing slightly when our fingers brush. Our gazes lock, and we pretend to not see each other's blushing. I sign as he told me to, then await further instructions.
"If you could also put your name and number on this page, it'd be a great help," He added, passing me a smaller slip of paper that had no prior writing on it.
I bite my lip, holding back an outrageous giggle.
"Of course, Mr. Way," I hand him back the page.
"It was definitely... pleasurable... doing business with you, Mr. Iero. I'll be contacting you in the future in case there are any more apartments... or maybe... hotels... worth checking into."
Sighing, I begin to pick everything back up, piling it in my lap. Looking around my apartment, I know that I'd made the right decision in giving up my lease. I need someplace bigger, someplace to better suit my needs.
Instead of simply restacking the books, I throw them into a cardboard box and begin packing. I almost have all of my shit in the boxes when my cell phone vibrates in my pocket. I don't look at the caller ID before answering, but instantly know who it is anyways.
"Frankie, sweet heart, how are you?" My mother's shrieking Jersey accent doesn't wait for my response. "Rememba' how we were gonna go lookin' for apartments tomorrow?"
"Yeah, what's--"
"Well, somethin' came up and I can't go with you anymore, so I called someone who'll go. 'Parently he knows bunches 'bout buying places, 'n' I told him just what you're lookin' for. He'll do you some real good."
"What? Mom, who?"
"I don't rememba' his name, sweet heart, but you're meeting him at 1211 Elk Lane at eleven tomorrow morning. Kay? He'll help you find a real nice place."
"Oh, he's a real estate agent." I nod to myself. It all makes a bit more sense, now.
"Of course, he's a real estate agent. Ya' think I just found some random man for you to buy an apartment with? 'He's a real estate agent,' Jesus."
"Okay, Mom, thanks for letting me know," I roll my eyes and flop onto the sofa.
"Of course, sweet heart. Good luck finding an apartment; love you."
"Love you, too."
* * *
I clamber into the driver's seat of my car, glancing at the clock as I turn the key in the ignition. "Ten fifty two, you say? Well fuck you, time. I'll be there before eleven, watch me."
Ten fifty four, I run a red light. Ten fifty five, I cut some college girl off and she flips me the bird. Ten fifty seven, I ripslide onto Elk Lane, and by ten fifty eight I'm parking in front of an apartment building--address 1211. "Bingo," I smile to myself and jump from the car.
A tiny constriction occurs in my stomach when I realize I have no idea who I'm looking for. I have this issue with panicking, you see. I take deep, steady breaths in an attempt to calm myself as I open the door to the apartment's office.
"Hello," A pretty blonde receptionist grins at me from behind her desk. "How can I help you today?" She tilts her head to the side, and her hair tumbles to reveal her neck. I guess that she wants to flirt, or at least try to capture my attention. It doesn't do much to repeal my anxiety.
My hand flits to my hair, and I tangle my fingers in it. "Hi, I'm looking for, em, well, I actually don't know his--"
"Mr. Iero?" A voice sounds from behind me, and I turn to find its source.
All possibility of relieving myself of my panic dissipates.
It's as though all magestic happenings of our world--rose-tinted clouds drifting to hide vast mountains, the hushed moaning and arched back of a climaxing female, generations of family gathering to witness the joining of a couple in matrimony, a breathless Japanese cherry blossom falling from its branch and floating in the breeze--combined before me to create the total epitimy of sex. He's tall, clad in a semi-casual black suit that clings to his lanky frame, and holding a small, sleek briefcase. But his face, oh, his face. His skin is smooth and creamy, bordering on olive. His arched brows give him an air of delicacy and bring out his eyes, which appear to be a light brown. A light nose sits respectively where it should, and his lips pull up slightly at the corners. Black hair curtains over his face, almost covering an eye, and is the only one of his fine features that could be considered disheveled. Even so, it's beautiful.
My breath hitches in my throat, and I can't look away. I know that if I could just drag my eyes from his stunning figure I would be able to inhale, provide much needed oxygen to my brain, but I simply cannot do it. The man seems to notice, and takes a long stride to my side. "Hey, hey, sit down. What's wrong? Are you alright?" His gorgeous voice pushes hot air onto my cheek as he pulls me forward into a chair. I can't see him anymore, as he's sitting beside me and I can't move. Well, quaking doesn't count. I need to breathe.
Dammit, this is so embarrassing.
Breathe.
What does he think?
Breathe, breathe, breathe.
"Breathe," He whispers in my ear, and I feel his hand rubbing circles on my back. I'd think it would make me even more nervous, or hurry the black that was cascading my vision, but it's actually relaxing. I suck in raspily through barely parted lips, relief flooding my system. As the man continues massaging my back, I calm.
When I feel mostly normal, I cautiously turn to look at him again. To my utter happiness, I don't flip shit this time. He is really, really close now, though, and I have an open view of his eyes. What I thought before to be light brown was actually a shocking gold, swirling at the center to a gentle green. Flecks of a paler gold pull it all together, creating the illusion that his eyes are tiny universes, staring me into another dimension where he is the sun. I'm falling in orbits around him, and I don't even know is name.
"H-hi," I manage. Wow. I'm really taking some strides with that one.
"Hi," He smiles, revealing teeth of the gods, and laughs like an angel on exctacy. "I'm Gerard Way," He speaks slowly and with a silly grin, almost mocking me, "and I think I'm supposed to be your real estate agent?" I nod, feeling my cheeks heat. "Okay, good. Are you alright?"
I nod again. "I think so, yeah."
"What happened?" He asks the dreaded question, rising to his feet and helping me up after him via my hand.
"I, um... I get ner--uh, anxiety." Nervous hadn't seemed like the right word, because that would make it too obvious that he is making me nervous.
But damn, I don't think I've ever stuttered this much.
"Oh, okay, I'll keep that in mind," He releases my hand, leaving me feeling cold without his splendid touch. "Wha' do ya' say we check out some apartments?" He slurs in a way only describable as sexy.
I smile shyly, looking at the shiny tile beneath our feet. "Sounds good."
My eyes flash up and I watch him slink to the receptionist's desk. Oddly, she looks disinterested in him. What, why? He's thousands of times more handsome than me.
My agent (ha, he's mine) speaks formally. "We'd like to visit your open flat. What was it, mm..." He squints and glances at me, apparently trying to remember something. "Room 16A, I think, was the preferred size and had the kind of facilities we're looking for."
"Yup," She smacks her lips and I want to smack her. She digs around in a drawer for a moment, and Gerard meets my eyes while we're waiting. A small smile appears and his gaze drops down, unabashedly checking me out. Wait, checking me out? No way. I follow his stares and note my torn blue jeans, ratty Converse shoes, and dirty band t-shirt. Fantastic, he probably thinks I'm homeless.
Well, you are looking for an apartment, aren't you?
"Here ya' go," The girl holds up a key with a numbered bob. "You have fifty minutes before I go to lunch, you should be back before then." She uses her now free fingers, as Gerard has just taken the key, to scrunch her hair. "Do you know where it's at?"
Gerard flashes her a grin. "Yes, ma'am, I've been here before. Thank you very much."
As he leads me towards a hallway, I hear the receptionist mumble, "...always have to be fucking gay, damnit."
Yes, I'm gay. Sue me. But if you do, sue Mr. Handsome Gerard, too, because he definitely has the homosexual vibe about him. Plus, he checked me out, or at least looked down on my lack of fashion drive. Either way, Way was gay. Ha.
"Notice the quiet halls and oaken doors."
"What?" Confusion momentarily fills my mind as I'm pulled from my thoughts, and my stupidity slips. "Why?"
Gerard laughs and turns to look at me. His countenance screams amusement, and I feel mocked again. Darn. "Because they're nice qualities, and come at no extra charge. It's things like that that make a place nice."
"Oh, right." Blood paints my face in embarrassment.
"Here we are." Gerard unlocks a door, labeled 16A, and holds it open for me. "It's five-hundred square feet, which from what your mother told me--" Great, he thinks I'm a momma's boy, "--is two-hundred some feet larger than your current place, and comes in around a price of seven hundred a month, but I think I can barter it down to at least..."
His voice fades away when I see the place. Light greys and tans build the kitchen, living room, and dining room in an open concept. A few bright colors add finishing touches to the room, and it's nice. As I take small steps forward, I see three navy blue doors that I assume are the bathroom, a closet, and the bedroom. My real estate agent is still yammering on about who knows what when I turn and raise my hand to silence him.
"I effing love it. How soon before I can move in?"
"Woah, there, partner," He grins, stepping towards one of the doors. "You haven't even seen it all, yet. What if the bathroom is a wreck?" He holds the door open and I sigh in relief. The bathroom is perfect, porcelain, and white.
"It looks amazing. I want it. I want it to be mine."
"There's still the bedroom, sweet heart."
I shake my head, not even hearing his endearing terminology. "I'm sure it's fantastic. Don't I have to sign something?"
Before I can say 'huh,' Gerard is behind me, one hand on my shoulder and the other on my waist. "Oh, I think you'll want to see the bedroom, Mr. Iero." His breath is hot I against my ear.
As his hand on my waist slips to my thigh, I stammer, "Frank, c-call me Frank."
I can feel his lips brush my neck, warm and soft. He's close--so close. Gentle fingers pull my hair back and he plants small kisses from the collar of my shirt up to my jawline.
"Shit," I gasp, freaking out. I no longer can see the beautiful room around me because everything is going black. "I can't--I can't breathe--"
I feel my legs liquefy, and then, in what seems like only a few seconds, I'm lying on a soft surface. Tension disappears and I can feel hands on my shoulders, pulling and rubbing slowly but firmly.
"You like being massaged, hm?" I open my eyes to see Gerard, in all his glory, holding himself over me.
We're in a bed, and it's doing nothing for my nerves. The massage, though, is.
I nod to him, gnawing on my lip.
"You..." He says, leaning down and kissing my cheek. "Are..." Another kiss, a little lower. "So... adorable." After a final peck, his lips meet with mine. It's slow at first, testing my willingness I suppose, but as I get a random burst of courage and kiss him back, the contact becomes more and more fervent. He sucks and pulls on my bottom lip, and, after a breathy groan, I go to work on his top one.
As he is holding himself up over me by his arms, my body feels cold and jealous of the attention my mouth is receiving. I put one of my hands over his heart, feeling its steady beating, and the other in the crook of his elbow.
His tongue flicks wetly against my lip, and I eagerly allow him entrance. We ravage each other in a sweet, mouthy embrace, want heavy in all of our movements.
He starts rearranging himself over me, and I break the kiss and tilt my head to see where he's going. Gerard, though, doesn't break mouth-contact and draws his tongue down my throat and to the base of my neck, where he starts sucking at the skin.
He brings his legs forward, then altogether pulls back from my neck to sit on me.
"As much as I love Morissey, this shirt's gotta go." His voice is steady, and suddenly I'm embarrassed by how out of breath I am.
I can't think about it for too long, though, as my tee is being lifted over my head and I have to sit up to aid it's departure. As soon as it's gone, Gerard's hands are moving up and down my chest, fingers tracing my tattoos, and eyes admiring. "So sexy," He mumbles before practically lunging down and attaching his lips to my collarbone. He moves carelessly now, taking his time as he kisses, licks, sucks, and bites my exposed flesh, all the way down to where my hip bone juts over my jeans. With skill and familiarity, he unhitches the button with one hand. His eyes are on mine, passion and lust burning strongly in our universe.
When my zipper is down, the ever-so-slight strain I'd been experiencing from my ever-so-slight wood is instantaneously gone. With a devilishly handsome grin, Gerard crawls back up my body and finds my mouth again. We only make out for a moment before his hand is fondling the hem of my boxers. His fingers slip underneath and I inhale sharply when they skim my cock. It's blissful, mostly, but also tickles a little. I squirm until he presses harder, forcing savory somethings onto my mind and pushing away all other thoughts. His tempo was a slow one, giving me time to focus on lacing my fingers through his hair and moving my tongue with his.
Gerard very suddenly jumps off of the bed, and I whine disapprovingly. He shushes me and grabs my feet, yanking until my shoes come off. I yip as they do, giggling like a little girl. Next, he tugs at my jeans, pulling until they're entirely detached from my body and my legs are bare. They land somewhere on the floor while he rips off my boxers in one aggressively forward motion.
I've been naked in front of men before, but never with a near-stranger, so at first I feel self-conscious. The worry must be showing on my face, though, because Gerard gives me a reassuring look and says softly, "Give me one moment."
He begins stripping away his suit. Watching him do so is very arousing, so I lower my hand and begin pumping myself, growing harder with every stroke. Gerard notices, giving me a lopsided smile before slowing the undressing process and performing more--like a strip-tease. He undoes the buttons of his white dress shirt, gaze locked on mine. I suck on my free hand's index finger, trying to portray to him what I want to do next. He seems to get the idea, pushing his shirt off of his shoulders and letting it fall to the ground before moving to his slacks. It doesn't take much longer and they're gone, too, and he's nude but his boxer-shorts.
Seeing his growing erection volley the thin layer of fabric, I sit up and motion him towards me. He drops back onto the bed, which I notice now is covered with a deep red comforter, and lands with his head in my lap. I lean down and kiss his mouth, only slightly deterred by our upside-downedness. The way his tongue moves against mine now is different and new, and I love the weird feeling.
"Come down," He says when I go up for air.
"What?" I question, brushing a strand of his hair from his face.
"Get down on top of me," He instructs, and I surprisingly understand. I can't help the grin plastered on my face as I crawl forward until my head is level with his pelvis. I easily move my fingers beneath the hem of his boxers and push them down to his knees. His pulsating, veiny cock springs from its confinement and arches toward me, so I take it in my hands and start rubbing him all the way from base to tip. After a few trips up and down, I spit and swirl the saliva around his cock-head, earning an eased moan from below me. I'm about to take in a mouthful of this no-doubt delicious man when something hot and wet touches my own dick. His tongue.
The way he runs from my slit to my balls makes me shudder, and I fight to continue holding my weight above him. When he takes me into his mouth, I can't help but thrust into his throat, loving the sensations of his tongue. "I'm sorry," I stammer when he hacks and pulls off, leaving me without his warmth.
"I was surprised, is all." He coughs. "I want you to fuck my mouth, okay?"
With that, he continues where he'd left off by bobbing his head over my cock. Taking his request for granted, I--slowly at first--push deeper into his mouth. When he doesn't gag or struggle at all, I go farther and more hastily. Realizing I'd been neglecting his needy erection that was throbbing just below my face, I grab him by the base and take him in. Knowing I'll never get down to his hilt, I twist my hand as I suck feverishly about his head and shaft.
When my cock hits the back of his throat, I struggle to continue stroking and sucking him off. He swallows around me, momentarily tightening his oriface and heightening my senses. I release my hold on him to cry out, wanting him to stop.
He does so, but is obviously confused. "What's wrong? Frank?"
As my body calms down, I roll off of him. "I don't want... uh, well, I just want more than sixty-nining, you know?" My voice shakes as I look at the God lying beside me. How in the world did I get myself into this beautiful situation?
"I... I guess so," Gerard sits up, then kicks his boxers off the rest of the way. "But we don't have lube, or... or condoms...."
I, too, sit up, and push Gerard onto his back on a silky white pillow. "I'm clean, I know I am. And I don't need lubrication."
He hesitates for a second, staring up into my eyes before nodding. "Okay, let's do it." So much for 'safe sex.'
I spit on his cock, then straddle him and prepare for entrance. By 'prepare,' I mean convince myself that the pain will go away and that Gerard will be gentle. I hold his cock steady beneath me, take a deep breath, and sink around him.
The tautness of my asshole seems unbearable, and I feel as though I may tear in two. Gerard's trying to hold still, but the involuntary twitching of his cock makes my insides feel raw.
We hold as still as we can in our position until my inner muscles relax and the pain is almost entirely gone. Then, deliberately, I rise up and fall back down over him. A sexy, gutteral sound emits from his the bottom of his throat, making his chest--where both of my hands rest for support--vibrate. His eyes are shut, his jaw is alternating between slack and tense, and his breath comes in short rasps. I admire the angel beneath me as I continue rolling my hips on his, wondering again how the fuck I ended up here. I mean, I'm fucking a real estate agent I met a half an hour ago! It isn't something I do often, and by that I mean never. Not that I'm complaining.
My thoughts are cut short by a particularly loud moan from Gerard when I apparently hit him just right. I can feel him quaking inside me, longing for release.
"Shit," He growls, eyes snapping open. His hands, previously clutching the blankets beneath him, move to my hips, aiding me to harder grind upon him. "Fuck me, Frank. Harder." I follow his command and pick up my pace, gasping for air and clawing at his sweat-slicked chest. He groans again, wilder this time, and his hands reach and cup my ass, pulling me around him. "Oh, shit, I'm gonna--"
"Not yet, you're not," I tsk, immediately pulling off of him.
"No--" He gasps, his face literally pained.
"We've still got fifteen some minutes before we have to leave," I tell him. He moans one last time before pushing me over and crawling on top of me. I bend my legs around him, holding him close, and give him my best grateful smile.
He lines himself up with my entrance and thrusts deep inside, making me groan embarrassingly loudly. I don't have time to dwell on nerves, though, because he very swiftly begins pushing deeper and deeper into me. His hips slap against my uppermost thighs in time with my currently rapid heartbeat. My eyes are shut and I'm enjoying his movements inside me when I feel his hand wrap around my cock. He drives into me and squeezes my dick in fantastic patterns that have me whorishly writhing on the bedspread beneath him, especially when he holds my hips up to better enter me. It doesn't take long before he's slamming into my prostate, building heat in my stomach and forcing a deathly cry from my lips. When he sees my flailing reaction, he continues beating and thrusting into me at the same angle. With his fist still pumping my cock, it very quickly and simply becomes too much.
The sensitivity blows over the top, and I squeeze around him and press backwards into the mattress. I can't handle the explosion of flames in my chest and lower body, and find myself unable to do anything but scream obscenities and curse the world. My cum shoots and lands on my abdomen, warm and sticky.
He keeps rubbing me until I stop shuddering, and then he picks up the thrusting again. I hold his hips as he'd done to me just moments ago, daring him to go deeper and come harder.
When he does, his face screws into a picture of pleasure and his passes become erratic inside of me. "Yes," I encourage him, petting his sides, "Come for me, please,"
With a final gasp and an internal throb, I feel his hot seed coat my insides and wetten my walls.
He remains inside of me until his quivering stops. Pulling out and dropping forward, he attaches his mouth to mine. Lazily, now, we swap spit and flick our tongues across one another's sweaty lips. His limp dick rests on my flat stomach, still weighted but loosing heft with every one of our shaky breaths. "That was something else," Gerard chuckles as he pulls away, a look of... regret? ...in his eyes. Does he regret this? Because I surely don't.
"Fuck, yeah, it was," I smile, stroking his hair and wondering about his emotional intentions as I sit up. He shakily gets to his feet, a smile on his lips.
"What do you say we get everything cleaned up?" He takes my hand and helps me to my feet. His internal frets suddenly don't matter, because I just had an amazing time and I could care less about how he feels in respect to his job or whatever. He's the one who took me into the bedroom and he made the original move.
The nerves are gone, replaced by a sense of accomplishment and gratification. Sweet, sexy gratification, granted by who could be no less than a god of lust, passion, and the thievery of innocence.
* * *
"You need to sign here and here, and your initials here, please." Gerard hands me a pen, pausing slightly when our fingers brush. Our gazes lock, and we pretend to not see each other's blushing. I sign as he told me to, then await further instructions.
"If you could also put your name and number on this page, it'd be a great help," He added, passing me a smaller slip of paper that had no prior writing on it.
I bite my lip, holding back an outrageous giggle.
"Of course, Mr. Way," I hand him back the page.
"It was definitely... pleasurable... doing business with you, Mr. Iero. I'll be contacting you in the future in case there are any more apartments... or maybe... hotels... worth checking into."
I read this while listening to a song by Pink, called "oh my god" I just came in my knickers! ;) Xxx
6/18/14