Counting Down The Days To Go (Frerard)

GERARD'S P.O.V.

When we got home, Frank was fast asleep against my shoulder. I didn't want to wake him up, so I handed his guitar to Mikey and picked him up bridal style. Mom opened the door for us and I went upstairs, Mikey following. I laid him on my bed and put the guitar next to him. "I'm proud of you, Gerard," Mikey said in a voice barely above a whisper. I smiled. His gaze went to Frank. "I heard you those first few days, talking to Lindsey. How you said there was something about him that drew you to him."
"Y-You heard that?" I asked sheepishly, feeling myself blush.
"Yeah. I... I think you really did find the one. And it's terrible that it's in the situation you're in. But I think you two truly love eachother." He turned to me and smiled. "It's surprising, too, since this is the first person I've known you show interest in."
"I really, truly love him, Mikes," I replied, my voice breaking at the end. I wiped away forming tears in my eyes and Mikey came over to hug me. He flashed a smile before walking out. "Oh, Gerard. There's someone here to see you," he called. I quirked an eyebrow but followed him downstairs anyways. Standing in the doorway was Jamia, her hands stuffed into the pocket of a black jacket. She looked at me and smiled weakly.
"Hi, Gerard. I need to talk to you," she told me. "It's about Frank." I nodded and walked out onto our porch, shutting the door behind us.
"What is it?"
She gulped. "Well, uh, I assume by now you've learned of Frank's... habits. Of hurting himself." I slowly nodded. "Well, he told me part of it was our mother's abuse. The other was that he thought he'd scared you off."
My heart sank. He hurt himself, because of me? I need to remember to formally apologize when he wakes up from his nap.
"But, when I saw his scars, a lot were old. Faded, still healing. He had been doing it for a lot longer than I think." She gulped. "I... I know he's bullied at school. That Jack guy or whatever his name is. He used to come home with bruises, and I was a terrible sister and didn't try to help him. Now that he's living with you, and I'm sure you go to the same school because everyone in this damn neighborhood does, I thought you had to know." She sighed and looked around. "I found these in his bathroom." She pulled out a small bag out of her pocket. The ziplock bag was filled with razors, some covered in crusted blood. I gasped and grabbed it from her hand, cupping the bag in my hands. I sighed and shut my eyes.
"How did you get my address, Jamia?" I asked, trying to make sure my voice didn't tremble.
"My boyfriend, Andy. Said he was friends with you.
"Oh. Lots of tattoos?" She nodded.
"That's all, Gee. Tell Frankie I said hi."
And then she was walking back to her house.

I gripped the bag tightly, so the razors weren't visible, and practically sprinted to my room. I dropped the bag onto my desk and sat on the edge of the bed. I could feel tears forming in my eyes, and before I knew it I was sobbing into my hands. There was a shift in my bed but I didn't notice it. Then, there were a pair of lanky arms being wrapped around me from behind, a voice whispering things in my ear. I didn't listen to it, only making out little words like love and okay. It took a few minutes until I calmed down to face the figure. Frank's head was resting on my shoulder blade, his eyeliner smeared from sleep. Tears lined his eyes, and he stared into my own eyes. "F-Frankie..." I whispered, "... why a-a-are you crying?"
"I'm crying because you are, Gerard. I hate seeing you upset. Tell me, what's wrong?"
I sighed. "J-Jamia came over... she gave me your razors." His eyes widened and he let me go, sitting on the opposite side of the bed. I wiped my eyes and scooted myself onto his side. I tried to hug him, but he pushed me away.
"You aren't supposed to see those, Gerard," he whispered, ruffling his hair with one hand worriedly and rubbing his arm with the other.
"I was crying because I couldn't believe my dear Frankie would hurt himself because of me." His eyes got even wider, if that was possible.
"No, no, no. I'm sorry." He covered his hand with his mouth, as if trying to silent himself. "I'm sorry."
"What are you apologizing for?"
"For being selfish and hurting myself because I thought you left."
I smiled weakly. "Frank, you're not being selfish." He suddenly stuffed his face in my chest, his hands tightly gripping the front of my my shirt.
"Gerard, I had a dream you left me," he muttered between sobs. "You left because you didn't want to be with someone who was so weak as to hurt themselves."
"Frankie, babe," I said to him, "I would never leave you."
"Really? You really wouldn't?"
"Never. I promise." He sighed and looked up from my black dress shirt.
"I... I love you," he whispered. He slowly leaned forward and lightly pressed his lips to mine. When he pulled away, he weakly chuckled. "Sorry for breaking down."
"It's fine, Frankie." I kissed his cheek. "I love you too." He cupped my face with his hands and brought it so close to his own face I could feel his breath on my face. He was staring into my eyes.
"You'd probably be really hot with eyeliner," he whispered. I chuckled.
"Give me some then."
"Gladly." He kissed me again, a bit harder this time, but it was still gentle. He pushed me down on the bed, still kissing me. He pulled away after a minute.
"Are we really gonna do this after we've gotten back from a funeral?" I asked jokingly.
He nodded, a smile on his face. "I'm a hormonal teenager with a boyfriend, what do you expect?" He kissed me once more, still completely gentle as before. It was strange for our kisses to be like that, usually they were heated and messy. I ran my hand through his hair and pulled him closer to me. Thankfully, I closed the door when I came in here and my parents never came into my room, so we didn't have to worry about them either.
"Let's... let's go slow this time, okay?" he whispered. I lightly nodded. He sat up, straddling my waist, and started to untie his tie while I unbuttoned my shirt. Once he finally untied it, I unbuttoned his shirt, too, and threw all our clothes in the corner of my room.
"You would look really nice with tattoos," I blurted. He giggled and started blushing. He began to tug on the waistband of my jeans (yes, we wore jeans to a funeral) and I lifted my hips so he could pull the tight fabric off. He did the same with his own pants. Now we're in our boxers in my bed with my phone halfway across the room and the door unlocked. I know I said we didn't have to worry about my parents walking in, but that was when we were still dressed. I was going to ask him about locking the door when he began to rub me through the thin fabric of my boxers, eliciting a whimper from me. I reached down and did the same to him, feeling how hard he was.

Oh.

"We've been doing nothing but kissing and you already have a boner?" I asked teasingly, smirking.
"U-Um... yeah. I-I..." he replied, looking away. "I just keep thinking about when you called me a princess."
I cocked an eyebrow. "Does that turn you on or something?"
"Somehow... yes." He gave a weak smile and looked anywhere but into my eyes. "It just makes me feel special and gives me butterflies, and somehow that... turns into giving me a boner." He laughed nervously.
"Well, let's keep moving then, princess," I murmured. His face grew even more red as he finally met my gaze. He continued palming me through my underwear and I let out a moan. I gasped and brought my freehand to my mouth. He giggled and shoved his hand against my crotch, making me moan once again. "Frank, I can't moan... o-out loud."
"But you're so cute when you're embarrassed!" He pouted playfully and I squeezed his crotch, making him gasp and squeak.
"Gerard, let's just do this," he whispered before climbing off of me. He locked the door and then went back to straddling my waist.
"Music," I muttered. He simply shook his head no before pulling my underwear off in one swift motion, then doing the same with his.

Okay, now we're both naked, and though the door is locked there's nothing to block out my moans. Frank spit into and licked his palm before reaching down and slowly moving his hand up and down my member. I bit my lip to stop myself from moaning. After a few seconds, he took his hand off, and I sighed at the loss of contact. But then he slowly lowered himself on me, hissing every few seconds, and I let out a whimper. He leaned forward to kiss me and slowly moved his hips up and down. I moaned, thankfully muffled by the kiss. "F-Fuck, Gerard..." he gasped. "Shit, this is so much better."
"Frank," I sighed, "I love you."
"Y-You too, Gee." He rolled his hips, causing me to buck up. He whined and flinched his head back. "Ah, fuck.Right there."
I gripped his waist and helped him lift himself up as we went on, each kiss becoming more desperate and every moan and whimper weaker. The bucking of my hips and him lowering himself onto me were in sync, and our sounds were completely muffled by the other's mouth. This was the slowest we'd been in our, what, three times? I liked it, actually. "Gerard?" he said, his voice strained.
"Y-Yeah, babe?"
"M-Make me fe-feel special... I-I'm so close..."
I inhaled sharply. "Frank, baby, I... I l-love you so much. You're my-my-my precious, ah, fuck, precious p-princess. Mm, I w-want nothing more-more than to call you m-m-m-my boyfriend, to ca-call you mine. Uhh, shit, I'm close." I smirked before continuing, hoping the next thing I said would set him off. "Mm, Frankie, th-this is what y-you and you-your pretty face do to-to me. You make me a... a-a-a swe-sweaty, moani-ning mess w-while you r-ride me." He looked up at me, his face growing even more red (if that was even possible) and his eyes grew wide.
"Shit, that-that was hot," he groaned. I cocked an eyebrow. "D-dirty talk. Fuck, it was a-a-always hot in p-porn, but now that... someone's-s actually saying it to me..." He stopped to moan. I knew it would work.
"Fra-Frankie, sweet-eetheart, ugh, I can't wait to f-f-f... fill you up, ah, ah, until y-you're leak... leaking my fu-fucking seed, shiiit."
"Fuck, Gerard, I'm fucking..." He stopped again to moan and his hips began to buck up. "Gerard Arthur motherfucking Way," I heard him mutter as he orgasmed, coming all over mine and his stomach. I followed soon after, stimulated by the sudden tightness on me, and released inside of him. He weakly tried to get up, but inhaled sharply as soon as he did and just plopped back down. He was still shuddering when he collapsed on top of me, breathing heavily. "Shit, Gerard," he sighed, "that was hot."
"The whole sex part or the dirty talk part?"
"Both." He chuckled and I pulled out of him. I reached over to turn on the fan next to my bed, to cool down our sweaty bodies.
"So, you said you watched porn...?"
"A little. What did you expect? But yeah. I always heard dirty talking in it and thought it was hot. But to have someone actually say it to me? Goddamn, I nearly came the second you said that." I craned my neck a bit to see he was blushing madly. "Sorry, was it weird?"
"No, not at all hun." I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him closer to me. "I love you and whatever kinks you have."
"I love you too, you dork." He gave me a quick peck on the lips. "I'm tired now."
"For you wanting it to be slow, it was quite tiring."
"Mhmm." He nuzzled his face into my chest, gripping the back of my shirt.
"I'll love you forever, Frank Anthony Iero," I whispered, stroking his hair. I felt him smile.
"I will love you until the end of time, Gerard Arthur Way."
And then we were fast asleep in eachother's arms, a thin blanket covering our bare bodies and a fan whirring in the background.

Notes

can you tell what kinks i have from my smut scenes? OvO
i've been feeling really bluh about my writing lately
i haven't liked the past few chapters
would you guys mind if i took a few days off?
it might just be writer's block

xo