It's Not a Fashion Statement

frank's pov
He pulls me inside the room, locking the big double doors and pulling the blinds down so that no one can see inside, whilst aggressively palming himself through his jeans and whimpering under his breath.
He pushes me down into the leather armchair at his desk, climbing on top of me and quickly undoing my shirt buttons, as I attempt to undo his, but my hands are shaking so much, I physically can’t. I manage to release one button, when Gerard’s already onto sliding my zipper down. He notices my struggles and decides to help me out, ripping the fabric of his shirt, which causes my breath to get caught in my throat and a whimper to escape my lips. That was hot.
He graces his fingers under my chin, tilting my head up and joining our lips, as I travel my hands up and down his chest, feeling his warm body under my fingertips.
I push myself up off the chair, trying to gain the upper hand, but Gerard immediately goes for the soft spot on my collarbone, biting down in the delicate area which he knows makes me weak. I collapse back into the chair, moaning whilst he sucks and bites on my shoulder.

I run my hands through his hair, tugging at the soft, thick locks, intertwining my fingers between the strands. Gerard then pulls me up, still sucking on my collarbone, but desperately trying to pull my jeans down. They’re really tight, so it’s a bit of a struggle, but he manages, eventually. He then goes to pull his own off, finding it much easier than when he was trying to pull mine off.
“Who tops?” he pants, as he slides my boxers off and my erection springs free.
“You take more prepping-“ I moan out, deciding for him.
He nods and pushes a hand down his boxers, cussing as he gently starts to jerk himself off.
“Prep yourself, I can’t wait any longer-“
I hum in response, until I suddenly realize I have completely no idea how to actually do that.
“Ugh, just let me help-“
As if he can read my mind, he grabs my hand and starts to suck on my fingers, then his own. Before I can process anything, I feel his fingers pushing up into me, stretching me, as he bends me over his desk.
“Ugh, shit, oh-fuck, gee…” I breathe out, my voice abnormally higher than usual. He then pulls his fingers out, directing my hand to where his were previously.
“See, like this-“ he pushes my hand into myself, as I feel a rush of pleasure run through me.
“Shit, that feels amazing-“ I moan out, cussing and whimpering as I thrust into myself.
“That’s right, fuck yourself so hard-“ he gasps, gentle whimpers escaping his lips as he continues to stroke himself up and down his length, until he decides he can’t wait and longer.
“Shit, just let me fuck you Frankie, right over my desk.”

I remove my hand, whimpering at the loss, until I feel his tip dig into me, slowly entering as I inhale a deep breath, gripping on the ridged sides of the desk. He fills me up until he can’t go any further, pulling back slowly and then thrusting back in again, grunting and loosing all his control, as I yelp at the sudden pain that shoots up me.
Even though it hurts so much, it’s also extremely pleasurable.
“Fuck, sorry I just-“
Gerard mutters, staying still inside of me so that I can get used to his size, even though that doesn’t make any difference now.
“Just go, please-“ I whine out, unable to wait any longer.
He pulls back and thrusts into me so hard it causes the table beneath me to shake. I cuss as Gerard growls out profanities, the sound of slapping skin, filling the room.
He thrusts in again, picking up his pace, when I suddenly feel him hit a spot that makes me cry out in pleasure, sending a rush to every part of my body, making me grip onto the table even tighter than I thought possible.
“Fucking hell, Gerard, there, again, please-“ I shout, as he thrusts into that spot once again.
I arch my back, biting my lip to stop myself from screaming as he rams into me once again. I feel his hand reach around me, grabbing onto my length and attempting to pump me in time to his thrusting. The pace from his hips is so fast, even his hand can’t co-ordinate to the timing, but it’s still enough to make me release after a few pumps.
I think the sight made him give in himself, having no time for warning as he releases into me, screaming my name and gripping onto my hips. I feel his hot liquid fill me up, as he falls back into the leather armchair, pulling me down into his lap with him.

I pant out, trying to obtain a normal breathing pattern. I feel the hot white liquid run down my legs, and into Gerard lap, covering both of us.

“Fuck, that, was, so, good-“
Gerard sighs, leaning his head back against the chair’s headrest, his arms linking around hips and holding me into his lap.
“I know, I know-“

After a while of just sitting there and trying to regulate our breathing, Gerard drags me into the showers. I never considered the building having showers; I guess it does make sense. Yknow, having dressing rooms and salons here that prepare the models for shoots, of course there are showers.

-
After our showering and drying off, getting dressed in new clothes and properly getting ready for the first time today, we decide to go out for lunch.

I’m wearing an outfit apparently from a previous autumn line, that Gerard found in a store room; it’s a big navy jumper and Gerard just paired it with a pair of tight black jeans he also found. He’s wearing a baggy blue shirt and a long green coat, which is totally different to what he usually wears. But like with everything, he looks amazing.
We step outside and we immediately links hands, intertwining our fingers and rocking our clasped together hands backwards and forwards as we cross the busy streets of New York. Of course we get a few stares, but it’s mostly because it’s ‘the Gerard way and the Frank Iero’, which, I guess is pretty cool that the general public know about us.
I guess it’s irritating at times, but it’s still pretty cool. One time, Gerard and I were at a shopping mall, when people suddenly crowded us. Gerard’s social media's are loaded with questions and comments about our relationship. For some reason, people seem to want to know about our relationship. A few days ago a magazine company posted a preview photo of a shoot featuring both Gerard and I on their twitter, which got hundreds of responses like ‘they’re so cute’, which is actually super flattering.

Gerard pulls me inside of a restaurant/diner, which I briefly recognize, but I don’t recall coming here before. I look around, and we’re lead to a booth around the side, enclosed by tall houseplants.

“Hey, didn’t we come here the first day we met?” I ask, commemorating Gerard taking me here.
“Oh yeah, we did,” he chuckles, and smiles softly, sitting down in the booth and watching me with his adoring eyes.
The waiter comes over and jots down our orders of salads and lemon sodas, then leaving, and returning with our drinks and salad only five minutes later.

“So, Frankie, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about for a while now,” he says, shoving a forkful of salad into his mouth.
“Yeah?” I ask, slightly worried about what he’s going to say. Actually, terrified of what he’s going to say. His tone of voice is serious, which scares me. What if he’s breaking up with me? What if he’s kicking me out of his house? What if he doesn’t want me anymore? What if he doesn’t like me? What if he’s found someone else? What if that was a goodbye fuck? What if- No, of course not, stop being stupid frank…
“Right, so you know that I’m basically a fashion and lingerie designer, often model,”
He says, emphasizing the lingerie. He steers his eyes way from mine, deeply blushing.
So, I don’t think he’s breaking up for me, thank god. Why did I even consider that in the first place?
I hum in response, waiting for him to continue.
“Well, I’ve been thinking…you should totally erm… you should totally model lingerie- fuck-“

I choke on the lettuce leaf in my mouth.

“Like okay, it sounds kind of ridiculous, but I feel it would be something different and just, god, it would be so hot Frankie, so fucking hot, just think, it could be like exclusive to members of my company, so it wouldn’t be on big billboards and stuff, unless you’d want that, I don’t know, I mean, if you don’t want to, that’s cool as well, but it’s something different to all the female lingerie models and-“

He blushes a bright red and finally meets his line of vision with mine, his eyes pleading.

“Wait, you’re serious about this?” I question, unsure if he’s joking or not.

“I understand, it might not be your thing and you don’t have to, don’t feel pressured into it or anything…”

“No, Gee, I’ll erm… I guess I could give it a go. I don’t have a problem with it, just sending it out for the public I don’t know… I’ll do it though.” I reply, slowly eating the remaining assortment of lettuce and tomatoes on my plate, lightly blushing.

He jumps up out of his seat, leaning across the table, and smiling so wide.

“Really? Oh my god, thank god,” he bites his lip, sitting himself back down and continuing.
“It wouldn’t be public, though, only for loyal customers that get invited to the release parties and stuff. But even then we don’t have to release anything,”

I hum in response, eating the last piece of sliced oregano infused tomato. Which, by the way is really nice, salad is just great; it’s probably one of my favorite dishes.

“I actually did various sketches and stuff on it-“
Really? He must’ve been thinking about this for a while now. How had I never seen them or him working on them before? I guess he does a lot of sketching and stuff, but it’s usually dresses and suits. I should pay more attention.

“I think they’re in my office, you know. I’ll show you them when we get back. In fact, let’s go now, we’ve both finished.”

Gerard pays for the bill and then leads me out of the restaurant, linking our hands again as we walk back to his building. He tugs my waist into his side as we walk, so that his arm is wrapped around my side and my head leans against his shoulder. The position itself sounds rather awkward, but it’s actually pretty comfortable, and it feels really couple-like.

We push open the glass door, and Gerard calmly waves to the receptionist (who I still really need to get the name of), as she returns a wave and a smile. I think she’s still a bit horrified from our states this morning.
I press the seventeenth floor, as Gerard thanks me and leans his head against the side of the lift shaft.
“It’s already, like, nearly the end of the day,” he sighs, running a hand through his silky hair.
“It’s only 2.45, Gee,” I reply, glancing at the little digital clock in the lift.

“Well, it’s too late to start shooting stuff now, we might as well, sort that lingerie stuff out-“ he replies, innocently. Oh, I know what he’s up to. Though, I agree with it anyway.

He opens the door to another office, one that I’ve never been in before. It’s an open room with an easel in the corner, hundreds of sketches pinned up to boards on the wall.
There are some paintings on the wall, above the sofa in the corner. Opposite, there’s a huge desk, piled with folders and pieces of paper and sketch pads. There’s also a computer, along with hundreds of pens and pencils.

I wander around the room, examining the paintings on the wall, one in particular that intrigues me. It’s a messy stroke painting of two people, a woman and a man, their faces covered in blood. It stands out from all the other paintings in here, it’s defiantly the darkest.
I run my fingers over the glass that separates the picture from my touch, shielding the intricate work. There’s a signature at the bottom, with a ‘xoxog” on, underneath, ‘Gerard Way’.

“Wait, you painted this?”
“Erm, eh yeah, I guess I did. Why?”

“It’s amazing.”
I brush my fingers over it again, unable to take my eyes off it, well, until Gerard asks me to look at some other sketches.

He passes me one, of a boy that looks exactly like me in cute underwear.
“This looks exactly like me-“
“Yeah… that’s the whole idea, sugar.” He points out, blushing and laughing shyly.

“So, what do you think?”
I flip over the page, and it shows the back of the model. On the back of the skimpy lace panties, there’s a big black bow, draping down.

“I can try, not saying I’ll look any good though,” I sigh, unable to imagine myself in the gorgeous briefs designed. I wish that I’d be able to pull them off and look good, but I doubt that. My legs are the wrong shape, my ass is nowhere near as good as portrayed on the sketch. I want to try it though.

"oh, you will."

Notes

sorry for the slow updates, i've been feeling really terrible atm and i'm loaded with homework and detentions, i'm so sorry guys. anyway, i'll try my best to update again tomorrow, hopefully i can because it'll be friday. also, thank you to everyone one of my readers, i thoroughly enjoy writing this and i'm so glad you guys enjoy it too. ^-^