•DESTROYED (Frerard)

10

A few seconds passed before Gerard picked up the black hoodie and slipped it over my head, straightening it out removing the creases that formed in the process. He cast his eyes down to the horrific white pants that hung loose around my hips, he breathed heavily before saying ''i'll let you deal with them Frankie.''

I was relived - as much as I loved Gerard caressing me, now wasn't a good moment and I was glad he could read me and notice my insecurities. He turned away and said ''I will be outside, when you're done call me.''

I nodded and watched as he strode over to the door pulling it open quickly and shutting it tight behind. The jeans he had left me looked so tight but to keep the peace between us I picked them up and sure enough began to slide my leg into the waistband. The jet black fabric hugged my calves as I wiggled my foot further down, after wearing thin loose white baggy shit-pants for 2 years these skinny jeans seemed like heaven. Actual clothing. I reached in with my other foot and slid them on. Pulling the band up around my waist. I smoothed them out before something caught my eye, or rather; I caught my eye. There was a shard of broken glass, that I guessed was once a mirror, pinned to the wall.

I walked over, looking at my self in the mirror with intent. My hair was a mess, it was too long to form a neat fringe now and had begun to fall in front of my eyes, giving me a rather 'common' look. I shook my head violently in effect to fix the birds nest that crept its way onto my scalp, but no, it didn't work.

Below the mirror there was a collection of what looked like face paint, woah Gee must have a weird fetish.. Nah, maybe he performed? That would be a site seeing Gerard on stage. I picked through the coloured paints and pots when something jumped out at me, it was a black eyeliner pencil. I couldn't resist, I used to always wear eyeliner before I got locked away in that bastadisation of a prison. The temptation was too much, I began to cover my eyelids with the black substance that clung to my skin. Carefully smoothing it out evenly. I finished off and looked at my eyes in the mirror happily; id done quite a good job.

"Frank come on y-" Gerard stopped when he saw me crouched down on the floor with his eye pencil in my hand. His hand came up to the back of his neck, he pulled a rather bemused face before opening his mouth to speak, but I stopped him.

"I - I er" I turned my head around to face him whilst pushing my self up off the floor "I borrowed your eye pencil." Gerards eyes lowered down my body, all the way to my feet and back up again taking in every curve and dimple that my new clothes had to offer. I watched his eyes watch me, that was a weird feeling.

"Holy shit Frankie" Fuck, he was mad wasn't he. Damn why did I use it, I hope he doesn't hate me. I looked closer at him, realising his eyes were most certainly not on mine. And realising still that his emotion was certainly not anger.

"Fuck me up you look so sexy" he bit his lip slightly.

Okay what. In the blink of an eye Gerard had me pressed against the wall, his eyes now fucking me mentally as he stared deep into mine. I held my breath and looked away "what are you doing?" I breathed out.

"A thing" he replied, oh great thanks for that Gerard, that explained it all now really well I understan - Okayyy he was hard. His solid member was digging into my crotch somewhat which caused me to desperately hold back the urge of getting a hard-on my self. There was something seemingly beautiful about being eyefucked by a horny Gerard.

Gerard opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted when the door to our shelter flung open, it was the dark haired guy who we met earlier, I seem to recall his name as Pete? He had a rather vacant expression as opposed to us with out bright red cheeks from the humiliation that we had been walked in on. He spoke with harsh words "theres a sandstorm comin'."

Gerard pushed him self off of me and ran his hand through his hair, not breaking the eye contact between us. "mkay" he replied calmly. Excuse me how can you be calm when a fucking sandstorm is approaching. As Pete shut the door leaving us alone once again I asked "Sandstorm? What the fuck where are we going to go? Whats going to happen to us!" My anxiety levels rose as I waited for an answer from Gerard.

He looked at me with sympathetic eyes "dont worry darl, we all go and sit in the main shelter, its highest above the canopy line so the sand doesn't reach us... just follow me" he cooed. Okay, I was chill again now.

I walked out the shelter door and shut it behind me, following Gerard through the thick branches that surrounded the many shelters that took haven here. Come to think of it, there were loads, all dotted around the wooden planks that made up the floor. We reached what looked like some makeshift stairs, Gerard stepped up onto the first step, it creaked but I was thankful as he made it to the top without injury.

It was my turn, I balanced my self and took weary steps one after the other, before I knew it I had reached the top. I sighed.

"Over here" Gerard called as he drew closer to a shelter. I came level with him and gave a quick smile to signal I was okay. He pushed the door open to reveal the contents. Many many people sitting in groups who by now had noticed my presence and were murmuring things to each other.

I noticed Pete straight away, sitting with a guy who had light strawberry coloured hair. The first man I had ever met here was with them too, never got told his name but it came to my attention he had multiple tattoos up his arm. Similar to me. One other guy was sat with them, he had a frowny expression and wild hair that curled slightly.

There were more people, and that was just the beginning of my problems.