Pretty In Punk

Face buried in the cottony lemon-scented comfort of Josh’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle sheets, Frank lets out the heaviest of sighs. Great, Gerard is here, probably to make fun of him or try to drag him back to his friends. Frank is not in the mood. “Go away.”

Gerard doesn’t listen, no, he just approaches the bed frame slowly, finally lowering himself onto the mattress. He sits at Frank’s hip level, telling, “I’m staying.”

“I just need to be alone right now,” Frank grumbles.

“I don’t want to leave you alone,” Gerard insists. “In my own personal experience, being left alone is never good. No matter what my intentions are, it leads down a bad road.”

Frank considers this, lifting his head slightly. A fat tear rolls down his cheek and he lowers it again, pressing his forehead into one of the pillows. “I can’t believe you saw that; it was so embarrassing.”

Gerard chuckles slightly, and Frank contemplates bringing a roundhouse kick to the face to that boy’s gorgeous jawline, but he rules it out because he likely can’t stretch that far in these jeans. “I can’t believe I saw that either.”

Frank feels a heat coming over his body, then, all of the sudden, there is Gerard looming over him, his hands straddling Frank’s torso, legs planted between Frank’s spread thighs. Frank remains face down so Gerard can’t see his blushing face as the older teen leans in, biting at the nape of Frank’s neck. He stops, just long enough to whisper into Frank’s ear, “I want you, Frank.”

Frank’s eyes shoot open, but he manually brings them down to their normal appearance as he asks, “So, you don’t think I’m totally lame?”

Gerard shakes his head; Frank can feel the soft tangles of hair brushing across his neck side to side. “I like you.” He begins to place wet kisses along the back and sides of Frank’s neck, and one hand shifts from its resting spot to down the backside of Frank’s jeans, where it grasps at one side of his ass and squeezes. Frank smirks and turns around, shifting so he can face Gerard for an open-mouthed kiss. Things are moving so fast, almost too quickly to comprehend, but Frank doesn’t mind; he’s fifteen years old and it’s embarrassing for him to admit that this is his first kiss. Well, his first real kiss. He kissed a girl in fifth grade with braces but once she got them off and he didn’t notice right away she didn’t want to hang around with him anymore. Besides, when he kissed her, it was with pursed lips and just for second. He’d never been so close to anyone as he is with Gerard at that moment, and his invasion of space is all too comfortable.
Without even realizing it, Frank’s hands trail down Gerard’s back and towards the hem of his shirt. They’re playing with the fabric, just grazing across the small of his back absently, when Gerard takes that as a hint to pull his shirt off over his head.
Frank is taken aback; despite his confidence in his orientation, he had never so much as held hands with a boy, let alone had one looming over him all shirtless as he tried to see just how much tongue could fit in one mouth. Things are moving so fast, too fast, Frank thinks. Frank’s hands still travel down Gerard’s back, resting at the waistband of his pants finally. Gerard starts to bite lower and lower at Frank’s neck, and Frank sighs with pleasure.
Gerard brings hovering fingers over Frank’s belt buckle, locking eyes with Frank as he undoes the thing with one hand. This isn’t his first rodeo; he’s made that very clear. Frank is just worried about how unexperienced he probably looks in Gerard’s eyes. He can only hope that won’t scare the older boy away.
Evidently not; despite the fact that Frank’s knees are visibly shaking with nerves, Gerard snakes Frank’s black jeans down anyways, leaving them halfway down his thighs, binding his legs together like some kind of emo mermaid. Against the dark denim of his skinny jeans, his white briefs are a harsh contrast. Gerard kind of smirks, and Frank, being defensive as always, demands, “What?”
Gerard loops his thumbs in the front waistband of Frank’s underwear, telling, “These are so dorky.”
Blushing, Frank grumbles, “Gee, thanks.”
Gerard’s eyes widen as he realizes he’d offended Frank, and he insists, “No, it’s really cute!” He nuzzles up to Frank once more, locking lips again. “Okay?” He holds Frank’s jaw in his hand, and Frank nods against his palm.
Kissing again, they are too absorbed in each other to hear the footsteps creak down the hall. With Gerard’s heavy hand grazing across the front of Frank’s underwear, it’s pretty hard to think about or notice anything but the two at that moment. The gentle rap on the door goes undetected, and they only notice that anyone else in the world exists when Pete swings the door wide open, calling, “Frank, I’m sorry!”
Gerard stops immediately, looking over his shoulder back at Pete with wide eyes. He looks like a deer in the headlights, if the deer was a horny teenaged boy, and the headlights a friend realizing that his bandmate and good friend is getting down with a boy he just met. Pete’s eyes triple in size as he covers them with one forearm, red tones rising in the tips of his ears as he apologizes furiously, “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! I-I didn’t know!”
Meanwhile, Gerard has demounted Frank in record speed and is scrambling to get his shirt back on. Frank wiggles his pants back up his hips, fixing his belt before springing off the bed. Pete is back in functioning mode and is talking to Gerard. Frank reaches the conversation as Gerard pleads, “Pete, you cannot tell Mikey. He doesn’t know that I like dudes and I really would hate for him to-”
Pete holds up one hand. “Dude. Say no more.”
Gerard thanks him, pushing past to leave. Pete and Frank exchange a look before rushing to keep up with the boy, who is on his way back to the practice room. Pete calls, “Gerard, can I ask you something?”
Gerard stops, meets Pete’s gaze. “Yeah?”
Pete reels back and slugs Gerard once on the shoulder, hissing, “In Josh’s bed?!”
Gerard, clutching a hand to his throbbing shoulder, pouts, muttering nonetheless, “I deserved that.”
They reach the practice room in a trio and for a moment, everything is on Pete. There are many things at stake- Josh possibly losing his lunch at the thought of his bed being used for such activities, for one. Another is the idea that Mikey might be angry with Gerard, unable to believe that his brother wouldn’t be upfront with him. They’ve put a lot of trust into Pete, and not necessarily by choice. The boy could choose to betray Frank and Gerard, if he really wanted to. He’d be stabbing Gerard in the back more than anything, but he hardly even knew the kid. He could change his mind so easily.
But it doesn’t happen. No, they sit down in the room and join in on the conversation as if nothing ever happened. Pete initiates the transition into the casual talk, almost a leader in their white lie. Frank knows that even though he was given the opportunity, Pete didn’t even dream of seizing it. That’s just the kind of guy he is, and Frank’s glad it’s people like those that he surrounds himself with.

Notes

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