And The Wonders You Can Do

The rain hasn't stopped for days. It feels like it will last forever; no more sunshine, just black clouds obscuring the sky and the sound of thunder, the flash of lightning somewhere in the distance.

Frank's sneakers squeak as he walks down the street, his hoodie soaked, his t-shirt sticking to his back and his hair dripping down his neck, a strand dangling in his face.The cement path to Gerard's house is flooded, pools of murky water rippling as Frank makes his way up to the front door. Soon, he'll be swimming.

He stands on the welcome mat for a few seconds, water slipping down his back, and knocks, his knuckles thudding against the wet wood with a muffled sound.

There's something loud coming from the house, voices screaming. Gerard's parents are fighting again.

Frank ponders for a second before stepping back, his feet sinking into Donna's flower bed, the mud sticking to his soles. He jumps out on the lawn and shakes his feet and the mud caked on his old Chucks sprays on his jeans. Fuck. His mom's going to kill him. He better hide it at the bottom of the laundry pile when he gets home.

He circles around the house, wiping his feet on the grass and peers down into Gerard's room through the small rectangular window down the brick wall.

It's dark in the basement but it's not really that unusual. Frank searches the shadows and thinks that maybe, Gerard's not home or maybe he's upstairs, watching his parents scream at each other like the so often do.

Then he sees Gerard. He's splayed on his bed, reading something, a mug of what could be coffee nested against his pillow.

Frank shivers in his damp hoodie and taps his fingers against the glass panel.
It takes a few seconds for Gerard to register that Frank is here, trying to get his attention. That comic book must be great.

Gerard frowns and waves at Frank to wait. He scrambles to his feet, his cup tipping over, spilling some of its brown content onto the already disgusting bedspread.
Frank rolls his eyes and watches as Gerard stumbles out of his room and into the hallway, coffee cup in hand and hair tangled.

When he hears Gerard's barely awake raspy voice mutter, "Fuck. Holy shit," Frank stands up and makes his way to the basement stairs, his shoes still squeaking comically.

"What the fuck are you trying to do here?" Gerard asks, taking a tentative step forward into the stairwell before recoiling, his arms wrapped around his chest, like rain water might dissolve him, like he's made of sugar.

"I'm not telling your mom you died because of me," he says, barely waiting for Frank to be inside to shut the door.He takes a long look at Frank, as if it had been weeks they'd seen each other.

"I don't fucking care if it's raining giant balls of turd or frogs," Frank comments, shaking his hair vigorously.

"Nyargh," Gerard protests as droplets spray him.

"It's not turd, G. Just water," Frank says with a chuckle. He toes off his muddy shoes and leaves them outside Gerard's bedroom.

Someone upstairs screams, "But Henry never tried to stick his hand down your pants," and really, Frank doesn't want to know.

Gerard's room smells like dirty underwear, coffee and stake tobacco.

Frank walks in and is about to flop onto the bed when Gerard throws him a towel and commands, "Strip."

Frank obeys without a question, enthusiastic at the idea of peeling off his damp, sticky clothes. He drops his hoodie and t-shirt onto the carpet and starts stripping off his jeans. They seem to have shrunk, the way they stick to his thighs and refuse to move. Frank tugs on them hard but he only manages to get them around his knees. He sits down on the bed and tears them off of his skin, like a Band-Aid off a wound. He rolls them down his ankles, his socks following soon after.

The thunder roars and Gerard's window shakes in its frame."Where are the goods, Gerard," Frank asks, pulling down his shorts and tossing them on the pile of his wet clothes.

Gerard mumbles something Frank doesn't catch.That's when Frank realizes Gerard is standing with his back to him. Gerard's always been a bit of a prude. Especially when Frank is the one naked.Frank's been naked in front of Gerard before. Once or twice. Frank likes to spend the night in Gerard's bed when he's too stoned or too tired to go home. Then in the morning he uses the Way's shower, the one down the basement Gerard never seems to set foot in unless his mom threatens to take all his comic books and sell them on Ebay.

So it happens. Frank walks around the basement without much on. He's never been really shy about his body although he's a bit self conscious about his flabby stomach some days. Frank doesn't really mind Gerard and Mikey seeing him naked.

Mikey is Gerard's brother but he might as well be Frank's too. Gerard though. Gerard's different. Frank can't really consider him as a brother. They're not boyfriends either. They're friends. Friends with some sort of benefits once in a while, when one of them is drunk or high enough to initiate contact.

Well, it's not like they ever had sex. Not technically. Giving your best friend a quick handjob and passing out in the middle of it because you're drunk off your ass is not sex.

So they fool around. Occasionally. But it's not the completely naked kind of fooling around.Frank giggles and puts the stingy towel in his lap."Er. It's on the bed," Gerard replies.

"Where?" Frank picks up the copy of Wonder Woman and thumbs through the pages. "Where, dude? Where is the naked?"

"Hm."

"You can turn around, you know. I'm totally decent now," Frank says as he wraps the towel securely around his waist. He shifts up the bed and waits for Gerard to join him.

"It's here," Gerard says, flipping back and forth though the comic book. He twitches, stops searching for naked Wonder Woman and pulls a blanket over Frank's lap. He flips one more page and there it is, in all its glory, the only frame where you can catch Wonder Woman's equally wonderful boobs.

"I kinda thought they would be bigger," Frank says and Gerard shrugs.

"They're okay, I guess. For breasts."

"That's it?" Frank asks because he's a little disappointed. "Why can't we see her cunt?"

"Frank!" Gerard tears the comic book away and tucks it under his bed. He gives Frank an incendiary look.

"What? You said naked superhero. I might catch pneumonia and I didn't even get to see someone's naked ass."

"I can see your ass," Gerard mumbles, only just audible.

Frank grins. "I get it now. You lured me here under the pretense of a naked superhero just because you wanted to have naked fun times with me," he says, pulling the bedspread and the towel off his lap. "There. Fixed. Now let me see yours," he adds, sliding a finger through Gerard's belt.

Gerard doesn't struggle to get Frank off him. His face flushes and he smiles, lopsided.

So, that's it. They're having the naked sort of fooling around today. Frank wishes someone had warned him in advance. He would have been a bit more thorough in the shower this morning.

He's still idly playing with Gerard's so very classy bat belt buckle when Gerard leans in and presses his mouth to Frank's.

It's not the first time they kissed but it's the first time they do it and they're both sober, and Gerard's hand is closing around the shaft of Frank's dick, and Frank is completely naked.

Suddenly, Frank feels too cold, too small, too vulnerable. He shudders and Gerard's pulls away.

"Sorry, I didn't-" he starts, removing his hand from Frank's dick and tucking it under his thigh.

"Yes you did. And I do too. But it would be better if you were naked too.

"Gerard looks down at Frank's fingers on his belt and nods slowly.

"Yeah, better," he repeats as Frank starts working on getting Gerard naked.

His belt offers the most resistance but Gerard helps him. After that, his jeans, t-shirt and underwear are gone within seconds. Frank throws them in a heap across the room and asks, Mikey around?

"The problem with Mikey is that he tends to forget to knock. Mikey Way just comes in when he feels like it, sits on Gerard's bed, talks about girls, monsters, weed, girl monsters who smoke weed and then leaves. Just like that.

This one time, he came in the room while Gerard was palming at Frank's dick through his jeans. He sat down next to Gerard, pretended everything was normal and totally not awkward and left twenty minutes later, when Frank was already blue-balled as hell.

"He's napping," Gerard finally replies. Then he's shoving Frank on the bed, tipping him over and spilling what's left of his coffee on the pillow.

"Fuck," Frank gasps. The coffee is cold. Thank fuck. But it's still coffee, coffee with tons of sugar that will stick down Frank's back because Gerard likes to put ridiculous amounts of sugar in his coffee. Maybe that's why he's afraid he'll melt if wet. He's secretly made out of sugar. He sort of tastes like sugar too, come to think of it.

Gerard shrugs and puts the empty cup on his cluttered bedside table. "It'll dry."

Frank wants to argue with Gerard about his lack of hygiene, how he should clean his fucking mess once in a while but Gerard interrupts his train of thought in the best way possible: by sticking his tongue down Frank's throat and by rubbing himself all over Frank's quickly hardening dick.

"Mother of fuck," he tries to say but Gerard's tongue is in the way. It comes out as an incoherent garble followed by a desperate moan.

Gerard thrusts faster and digs his fingers into Frank's damp hair.

When Gerard breaks the kiss, Frank is out of breath. He blinks his eyes open (when did he even closed them?) and stares up at Gerard.Gerard doesn't taste like alcohol today, just coffee and sugar.

Frank bites down on his bottom lip and whispers, "Fuck, Gerard." That's all he can muster.

Gerard smiles at him, a little predatory, and wraps a hand around Frank's dick again. He doesn't say anything and doesn't waste any more time. He just goes for it, pumping Frank's dick eagerly, sloppily, swooping down for another kiss.

This time, it's just a peck on the lips but it's followed by a series of kisses down Frank's throat, Gerard's teeth catching Frank's ear lobe when Frank throws his head to the side, panting into the coffee stain on the pillow.

He moans, deep and needy and thrusts up into Gerard's fists.

Gerard murmurs into Frank's ear, "Tell me I'm hotter than Wonder Woman."

Frank laughs because this is ridiculous but Gerard tightens his grip on Frank's dick and stops stroking him, like he's actually waiting on Frank to tell him what he wants, like he's being serious about this.

"Fuck." Frank groans. "You're fucking hotter than fuck," he says, gasping as Gerard releases the pressure on his dick and starts stroking again, slow. "Hotter than Wonder Woman and Cat Woman and even fucking Batman.

"It's probably not the answer Gerard was waiting for because he stops jacking Frank again and sits up on his heels.

"Are you serious?" he asks and fucking goddamn shit, Gerard's serious. He looks at Frank all meaningfully.

"You're hotter than anyone ever. Except maybe Joan Jett. You can't be hotter than Joan Jett."

Gerard lets out a sigh that sound like 'Frank' and presses his lips against Frank's.

The thunder booms outside and rain lashes against the window. Frank shivers but it's not because he's cold this time. He's burning up and Gerard's skin feels so warm against his, like Gerard is a furnace.

When Gerard breaks the kiss, he sits back on his heels and stares at Frank for a moment.

Frank stares back and squirms under Gerard, between his thighs. His dick throbs as it touches Gerard's. He pushes up and there, again. The throbbing is back. His stomach tenses, his eyes roll back.

There's the sound of a drawer opening and then Gerard curses between gritted teeth. Frank leaves his eyes closed and waits.

After a moment, Gerard's fingers clasp around Frank's legs, pulling them up and apart.

Frank's never been fucked before. It almost happened that one time when he blown that guy he didn't know in the bathroom at this punk rock club in Newark but that's all. It didn't go that far because Frank must be really talented with his mouth or something, and the guy blew his load everywhere on Frank's shirt before they even got to the ass fucking part, which, to tell the truth, Frank was really excited about.Gerard isn't a random guy Frank drunk-picked up.

Frank opens his eyes when he feels something cool drip on his stomach. For a second, he thinks Gerard is already done. Gerard with his cold spunk, too cold to be anything but vampire or alien spunk.Gerard spreads him apart a little more and smears a ton of lube on Frank's ass. When he pushes a finger inside him, Frank moans and grabs onto the wooden headboard. He throws his head back and pushes down onto Gerard's finger. "More."

Gerard's fingers stretch him, fuck him; one finger turning into two. By the third finger, Frank is begging for Gerard to fuck him; fuck him for real; with his dick. Please.

Gerard isn't an asshole. That's another one of his quality. Gerard has lots of qualities.He pulls his fingers out of Frank and presses the tip of his dick against Frank's ass.

It looks like he might change his mind about this, like maybe he doesn't want to go there with Frank. He mumbles, "Are you-?" but Frank doesn't let him finish. He pushes down until Gerard's dick slides up, until he can feel the burn, until he can hear Gerard moan and call him a pretty motherfucker.

The way Gerard feels inside him is incredible. It's not better than getting a handjob but it's a close second. Then Gerard shifts a little and starts thrusting in and out and Frank thinks that, this is even better than a handjob.

Gerard's dick hits something over and over again and Frank cries out, "Gerard. Fuck. Faster. Fuck." It feels like the only thing that exists anymore is Gerard's dick and that spot it keeps brushing over.

Then Frank looks down and remembers he has a dick and, okay, Gerard's grabbing it now. He jacks Frank faster than before and Frank doesn't even has time to think before he's coming, shouting Gerard's name louder than he should because Mikey is napping in his room and Gerard's parents are right upstairs arguing about a guy named Henry who likes to put his hands down people's pants.

Gerard strokes him for a few more seconds, without ever stopping from thrusting inside Frank. He looks so focused on the task at hand (or the task at dick) that Frank can see drops of sweat rolling down his forehead.Somewhere down the block, a lightning rod strikes an electric converter. Gerard's alarm clock goes out as well as every light in the house. Gerard's parents stop shouting at each other.

Frank smiles. He feels completely numb, boneless. His blood is pounding in his head; he can hear his heart beat, so loud that it covers the sound of thunder.

"Come, Gerard," he encourages him, letting go of the creaky headboard to grab Gerard's waist and squeeze him gently.

"Yeah. Yeah," Gerard says as he tilts his head back. He screws his eyes shut and then goes completely still.Frank would have thought Gerard would be louder.

The pillow with the coffee stain is soon stained with something else; something stickier as Gerard wipes Frank's come off his hand on the corner of the pillow. He rolls the condom out and crashes on top of Frank, stroking his sides.

"You're hotter than Joan Jett," he says with a breathy laugh, pulling the bedspread over them.Frank plants a kiss on the crown of Gerard's head and giggles.

"Next time you want me in your bed, that's all you have to tell me."

Notes

Sorry for any typos or grammar mistakes cx

xox
~EA