You Keep Eternity (Frerard)

Enjoy the Frerardness!

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He was such a manwhore! But that didn't change the fact that he was utterly gorgeous.
He wasn't hunky, but he was well muscled. When his shirt rode up, you could see the defined 'V' above where his low hanging jeans were. His skin was a light tan colour, nearly olive toned. It was smooth and blemish free, like a carving. His hair fell just past his chin. It shone in the light, creating a gleam on his black locks. Somedays it curled tantalisingly around his ears and jaw line. His lips were perfect too.
Pink, smooth and firm, they were totally kissable. You could often see a glint of silver, coming from a polished lip ring, begging to be tugged during a heated kiss.
But his eyes. His eyes! They were a deep hazel green colour that pierced you. And looked into your very soul. Surrounded by luscious black lashes, these emerald orbs would fleetingly survey his surroundings. When you made eye contact with him, you were held there and couldn't escape, at least until he looked elsewhere.
No one could deny that I was completely in love with the beautiful, whorish, confident and godlike being, that happened to be Frank Iero.

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I watched him lean into his locker. His jeans tightened around his firm ass with the movement. I could stand there all day and watch him. Before I knew it, I had made it through the throng of people, to my locker, three away from his. I subtly ran my hand over the grey, painted metal; pretending it was his chest.
The things I wanted to do with him! But he'd never notice me, not when there were hundreds of other more attractive people around.
I quietly opened my locker and gathered my art pencils. I scanned the small space for them, and spotted them at the back. I grabbed them quickly, and shut the locker. More time to gaze longingly at Frank. So that is what I did.
Suddenly, one of the pencils, fell and rolled, stopping by one of his converse clad feet. I couldn't just leave it there, so I put a brave face on and walked up to him. I stopped fairly close to him, and held my breath as he glanced at me. I was taller than him, which probably made both of us feel slightly uncomfortable. I was close to drooling. He was more beautiful than a Greek God, commanding the space around him.
"Sorry, one of my pencils dropped over here," I said, trying to stay confident.
"Oh okay. Go ahead and get it," he replied, studying me. I knelt down and swallowed (A/N: get your minds out the gutter, you perverts). He made me nervous. I picked the stray pencil up with nimble fingers, then straightened up.
"Sorry about that," I mumbled.
"It's fine. Who are you? I don't think I know you," he asked in a deep, sexy voice. I raised my eyebrow in what I hoped was a way that made me look less intimidated.
"No you don't. I'm Gerard," I told him. Frank nodded which made his shiny black hair move slightly. Without warning his, badass, perverted attitude was present. "Well, you're cute. And you can go now," he said and turned away. I blushed furiously and scurried away to my art lesson. He took my breath away, probably making me look like an obsessed teenage girl. I guess that was partly accurate. I was an obsessed teenage guy. Properly obsessed. Frank haunted my dreams, night and day. I bumped into countless people while immersed in my thoughts about him. I wanted so badly to be close to him, in anyway possible. Hopefully more intimate than friendship. I wanted him so badly, it was hard to contain myself. The number of times I'd woken up with a boner, was high. I always needed a distraction. It wasn't healthy to say the least. Only my brother, Mikey, knew about my infatuation with Frank.
I arrived at the art room, short of oxygen and with my head buzzing. I saw Bob standing outside the door. I walked up to him and stood by his side, poking him in the arm to get his attention.
"Huh? Oh hi Gee," he said when he saw that it was me. Bob blew his strawberry blonde fringe out of his eyes and blinked his blue eyes. "I'm guessing you're excited to get your mark back?" he asked me.
I nodded excitedly, all thoughts of Frank were dispelled. We handed in our final pieces last week. I had drawn the muscles under the skin, in a horse's flank. I tried to show how they moved with impact, but I didn't know if it was enough. My target grade was an A, so I hoped I'd lived up to that.
The teacher called us in and we sat down at the tables. He started to drawl on about the good standard of our work, and how no matter what our grade was; we should be pleased with what we had achieved. I looked over at Bob and we both rolled out eyes.
Eventually, the teacher got around to handing us back our marks. I was nervous to look at mine.
I had put a lot of effort into my final piece, and even though it was just a piece of artwork, I would be crushed if I didn't do well. I held my breath and glanced down.