Demolition Lovers (Frerard)

14: Pete Wentz The Number One Expert Flirt

Lindsey's advice was far more successful than Gerard could have ever anticipated and soon enough, he found himself back at his apartment, and not only kissing Frank's lips, but putting his lips to good use elsewhere too.

And maybe, just maybe, even if Gerard wasn't supposed to the whore here, there was nothing he could say that would disprove the fact that he absolutely loved getting down on his knees for Frank Iero. And let's just say that Frank also appreciated the gesture, because there was really no other way to put it that didn't require extreme degrees of obscenity.

Not that obscenity was necessarily a bad thing, and this blowjob was proof of that: the proof within the way Frank was all held back hitched breaths and moans - little noises, quieter than Gerard would have expected him to be in relation to the fact that they were alone, well alone in a flat where the door didn't lock, but whatever, they were alone for now at the moment.

But this wasn't anything to do with Gerard being bad or anything, this was more to do with Frank than it ever was Gerard, because like this he didn't have to act: he didn't have to put it on and he didn't have to moan extra loud when it was nothing more than mediocre - he wasn't being paid to do this: he was doing it because he wanted to, and it was entirely different.

Frank didn't quite understand the meaning behind the phrase 'like he was paid to do it', because Frank knew more than anyone than when something became work: monotonous and forced, regardless of quality or emotion, just compulsory - it lost all enjoyment it could ever have, and the relief and break from that was a certain kind of heaven, and Frank was satisfied with nothing but relaxed, happy little moans, and Gerard seemed to be far too preoccupied with Frank's dick to really pay all that much attention to the noises coming from Frank's lips.

Gerard's hands dug tightly into Frank's lips: steadying himself around Frank, as the artist was shaking a little: a mix of anxiety and being really fucking turned on, he guessed. Frank was usually a fan of hair pulling and forcing Gerard's down onto him and being in control, but Frank was tipsy and floating as his hands stretched out against the wall behind him, letting Gerard take control and push him against the plaster with every thrust.

This was different, of course, because he trusted Gerard, he loved Gerard, and the main thing was that Frank's head had something else to focus on other than fifty dollars on the dresser.

It wasn't that Frank didn't like his job: it was certainly preferable to wasting his life away in an office as he filed away things he could never even begin to understand, and answered phone calls with the same sentence: lifeless and almost programmed into his head until he finally retired, and then it'd only be a few more years until he died, and that was that: everything.

Frank would much rather be paid to get fucked a few times and then do whatever the fuck he wanted with the rest of his life, especially if that included doing Gerard Way.

"Gerard-"Frank jumped back into reality: mildly unaware of what he was even doing and what he was even saying: everything was about his dick and just what Gerard was doing to it. "Fuck... I'm gonna, I-" Frank bit down on his bottom lip, pushing Gerard off his dick with all of the self-control in the world.

"Frank?" Gerard asked, pouting up at the twenty four year old: a little disappointed, because maybe, Gerard liked sucking dick far more than he'd ever care to admit, especially when Frank Iero's dick was involved.

"I can't come when I've just left you on your knees sucking my dick: doing everything for me, because as hot as that is, I don't want to neglect you like that." Frank finally managed to stand up probably: having supported his weight on the wall entirely for far too long now - he was fucking numb and it was Gerard's fucking fault.