Misery Loved Me

Frank P.O.V
I paced around my room furiously, trying desperately to piece together what had just happened. Had Mr. Way, the new, ridiculously attractive art teacher, really just bent me over his knee and fucking spanked me like a naughty child? I pulled my jeans down in front of the mirror and winced at my ass, now decorated with angry red welts.

What would I do now? This situation was so fucking complicated. He was my teacher, I was underage, and he had basically fucked my mouth into submission. Was this his sick, twisted little version of detention? The worst part? I had enjoyed it. I'm not sure who I hated more; Mr. Way, or myself.

With shaking hands, I dialled Pete's number. He would know what to do in this situation, he was my best friend. After a few rings, he picked up- but he wasn't alone.

"Hey, Frankie!" The way he drew out the 'hey' confirmed that he was, in fact, white girl wasted.
"Pete, where are you?" I hissed, chewing my nails nervously. No way would he be able to help me in his inebriated (and possibly drugged up) state.

"M'hanging out at Wreckage, it's this awesome club that has a mosh pit and everything- people perform and it's such a peaceful atmosphere," yeah, Pete was definitely on drugs.

"I know what Wreckage is, I've been there with you only a thousand times," I rolled my eyes, although the effect was useless over the phone.

"Frankie, you should totally come out! So many hot guys, so many. But I've found my true love, he's never leaving me! Ever!" I winced as his volume tripled in my ear. His words sunk in, and I realised just how badly I wanted to be there, taking shots like a motherfucker and forgetting all about my problems. Possibly fucking some cute 'sexually confused' kid in a bathroom stall. Forgetting about Gerard and his stupidly attractive face.

"Sounds like a good idea, I'll meet you there in like ten minutes," and with that, I hung up, vaguely hearing Pete let out a loud whoop of excitement. I smirked, shook my head, and grabbed my keys, vibrating with anticipation. It'd been a while since Pete and I got drunk together, what with him being away all summer.

As I drove, I checked my appearance in the rearview mirror. My eyeliner was barely noticeable, yet impeccably applied. My hair was all wayward and messy from when Mr. Way and I...er, yeah. I looked pretty goddamn attractive, if I do say so myself. I wasn't a superficial dude, but hey, love yourself so no one has to.

I pulled up in front of the club, flashing my fake I.D at the burly bouncer, who gave me an amused smirk and let me in. This is why I loved Wreckage. Half the people in here were underage, but the bouncers still acted like they believed that our ID's were legit. Fucking awesome.

I immediately found Pete. He was kinda hard to miss, considering he was dancing on the bar in a poor imitation of the dancers on the stage. People still hollered and catcalled though, so I guess he was attracting a lot of admirers. As I made my way over to him, he jumped down from the counter clumsily, grin stretching over his lips.

"Frankie, baby! You came! C'mere, you have to meet my new boo. Mikey! Come over here!" Pete grabbed my hand and led me over to where a group of guys around our age were chatting and laughing. My heart immediately stopped when I realised that Mikey fucking Way was one of them.

"Mikey, this is Frank. Frank, this beautiful boy is Mikey Way!" Pete drunkenly announced, completely unaware of the way I'd stiffened in fear. All that was going through my head at that moment was 'nicetomeetyouihavehadyourbrotherscockinmymouthandicanstilltastehisjizz', if that makes any sense.

"Nice to meet you, Frank," Mikey smiled at me warmly, which made me instantly relax. He clearly had no idea about what had occurred, and he seemed like a cool guy. I took the drink that was offered to me by some dude with an insanely awesome fro. Ray Toro, I think his name was. I'd seen him before at school, in my music class. Dude was a killer guitar player.

"Okay, well lets get the introductions out of the way. Guys, this is Frank. Frank, this is Ray Toro, Patrick Stump, Matt Cortez, Jack Barakat, and Billie-Joe Armstrong." I nodded as Mikey pointed to them all as he said each name. They were all attractive, but the person that really stuck out to me was Matt Cortez. He was tall, muscular, obviously Italian, with big brown eyes, a great fucking smile and thick locks of dark hair that looked like it would be a total fucking turn on to pull. I smirked, my mind made up as I skulled another beer that was handed to me by Pete.

Around half an hour later, everyone was well on their way to getting wasted, myself included. I watched from my seat as Mikey, Pete, Patrick, Jack and Ray thrashed around in the mosh-pit. That left me with Billie-Joe and Matt, who were curled up against each other, whispering occasionally and glancing at me.

I didn't realise they were together. I scowled down at my feet, the alcohol only working me up even more. I hadn't seen them both get up, so when Matt's voice was mere centimeters from my ear, I nearly shit my pants.

"Hey, what's wrong? You seem...tense," his words were accompanied by his hand on my thigh. I looked up slowly to see them both watching me, a wicked grin on their pretty faces. I was reminded of Mr. Way, but as soon as Matts hand brushed my crotch, all thoughts concerning him went flying out of my head.

"Mmm, I am pretty tense. Maybe you and your pretty little friend could...loosen me up," I drawled, my fingertips tracing up Billie-Joe's chest and eliciting a delicious moan from those full, pink lips of his. I rose from my seat, and led them into the bathrooms, making sure to swing my hips hypnotically on the way there.

I quickly checked the bathroom was empty, before locking it up and turning to the two boys with a lazy grin. No sooner than I turned around, Billie-Joe had his lips against mine, in a furious, heated kiss. I felt someone fumbling with my zipper, and diverted my eyes down to see Matt, smiling at me innocently as he yanked my jeans down effortlessly.

"Holy shit, Frankie. You're so big," Matt purred, mouthing at the fabric of my boxers covering my painfully hard cock, before pulling them down to my ankles. I let out a groan of relief against Billie-Joe's lips, and he pulled away, flushed and grinning from ear to ear.

"Ever been double-teamed, baby?" Fuck, keep talking like that and I'll end up shooting my load before we even start. I shook my head, smirk still in place, and they shared a secret smile.
"We'll make it so good for you. Matt, start sucking him off," Matt let out a moan at the authority in his tone, and I stilled, again reminded of the way Mr. Way had commanded me to do the same. As soon as Matt's lips closed around my length though, thoughts of earlier completely evaporated as I moaned and fought to keep still, as to avoid gagging him.

Billie-Joe smirked at me, and positioned himself from behind. Without any warning, he slammed into me, with little prep. It still felt fucking amazing though, and I let out a scream of pleasure that was instantly muffled by Billie-Joe's arm covering my lips.

"Bite down if you have to scream, beautiful. Don't want to be caught getting fucked in a dirty bathroom like a little cock-whore, now do you?" I let out a broken moan at his words, thoughts of Mr. Way invading my head. He'd called me the exact same thing, look of pure pleasure on his beautiful face, and I let out a high whine, thrusting against Matt's mouth. He choked for a minute, but obediently pushed me down further until my cock was all the way down his throat.

"Fuck, you can do that? So fucking hot, Matt, shit!" I let out a string of moans and curses as Billie-Joe hit that spot inside of me. It felt like I was falling apart, in the best way possible. I felt Billie-Joe smile against my shoulder, and he mercilessly thrusted into the same spot, making me scream over and over again.

"I'm not gonna, fucking hell, last much longer, guys, fuck!" Rather than deterring them, they seemed encouraged to go faster and harder at my words. Billie-Joe kept hitting my prostrate over and over again, and Matt hollowed out his cheeks, sucking almost worshipfully.

"So gorgeous, fuck Frank. C'mon baby, come for me, I know you're close, come down Mattys throat. He'll swallow every last bit of it, fuck." At Billie-Joe's admission, Matt let out a soft whine of agreement, sending vibrations down my pulsing cock. Unable to take anymore pleasure, I released with one last scream of pleasure, spilling into Matt's perfect, willing mouth. Billie-Joe followed moments later, panting frantically in my ear. Matt sucked me through my orgasm, pulling off to kiss me, and then to kiss Billie-Joe. I could have come again, the image was so hot.

"That was fucking incredible." I panted, and the two exchanged an extremely pleased smile.

"I agree. It was nice to meet you, Frankie. We should hang out again sometime, Matt and I would love to do that again," Billie-Joe grinned as he began jacking Matt off lazily, whose jaw had gone slack and his eyes clouded with pleasure.

"I don't mean to pry, but what are you guys to each other?" I asked curiously. Matt snapped back into reality to shoot me a dirty smile, filled with promise and secrets.

"All orgasms are accepted orgasms in our little group. No strings attached. Welcome to the club." "Even Mikey?" I gaped, not quite believing my ears. Billie-Joe and Matt gave a little chuckle.

"Especially Mikey," Billie-Joe winked, and I gave them both a smile as I exited the bathroom to leave them to their 'business'. I smiled hugely at Pete and Mikey, who were the remaining two people at the table.

"Matt and Billie, huh?" Mikey smirked at me.

"Yeah. Where is everyone?" I asked curiously, starting to come down from the high of sex and alcohol.

"Left. Don't worry, I've called someone to take us home. None of us can drive in this state," Mikey barely finished the sentence before Pete moaned on his lap.

"M'gonna hurl, shit!" He doubled over and hurled all over the clubs grimy carpet, Mikey patting his back sympathetically.

"I know honey, I know," he shot me an apologetic look, before his phone went off. He checked it, and nodded at me.

"Our rides here. Help me lift Pete? For a little dude, he's surprisingly heavy." I nodded and helped Mikey haul Pete out of the club, mumbling incoherently and dry retching on my shoes.

"There he is," Mikey pointed to a black, sleek car. I would've admired it more if I was less intoxicated. However, as we moved closer to the car, it was like a slap in the face. I sobered up pretty much straight away.

Because our ride? Apparently, none other than Gerard Way. Fuck my life.

Notes

:)