Band One-Shots (boyxboy)

Teach Me How To Dance (Frerard)

"Teach me how to dance?"

It was the first thing Frank ever asked of him. He claimed he didn't know how to dance, but Frank didn't care.

Dancing was a loose term. You could be flailing your arms violently or waltzing and it would be dancing all the same.

He never asked for much. When he broke his wrist, he waited two weeks before going to the doctor. When he was stricken with a high fever, he went through two whole days without even requesting an aspirin from his loved one.

But dancing? He had always wanted to learn how to dance.

Classes were binding, teachers were strict. He didn't want to learn organised movements: quick, quick, slow or one, two, three. All he wanted was to sway back forth, their hands interlocked and their hearts even closer.

Gerard told him he didn't know how to dance.

Frank wondered for the longest time if Gerard was embarrassed. He offered to dance in the living room, a park, horizontally, naked, which Gerard agreed to the latter on many occasions.

That's not important, you perverts, but that's what you'll remember. You sick, twisted, perverted children.

It had gotten to the point where Frank was angry at Gerard. His red-haired counterpart always came up with excuses to not fulfil the short boy's request.

"I'm tired."

"My back hurts."

"I can't dance."

He didn't believe even one of Gerard's pathetic excuses.

It began to hurt. Was he not dance worthy? He didn't understand how a man could be so... opposed to dancing. All it was was small, romantic movements, bringing two people physically and emotionally closer together.

For his birthday, he asked for a dance; he got a puppy. For their anniversary, he asked for a dance; he was given tickets to a couple's cruise. For valentine's day, he asked for a dance; was received a cards, flowers, and a teddy bear.

Gerard was avoiding the one thing he really wanted.

It was a personal thing, you see. For as long as he could remember, he had always wanted to have at least one romantic dance with his one true love. When he found his Gee, he thought his wish could become a reality.

Unfortunately, that was not that case.

Two years had gone by and they still had yet to have Frank's desired dance.

The days passed by sweetly, tainted with sugar and kisses. Romantic, passionate love-making and sexual exploration making the sweet days spicy.

Now, before I continue on, I will ask you to take your head out of the clouds and stop trying to imagine what kinds of kinky sex our main characters have engaged in. The frick-frack does not have anything to do with this story. This is about dancing, you sexual deviant.

Frank longed for more. Yes, he was happy, elated even, but he wanted to dance. He wanted awkward stumbling on two left feet and nervous giggles, wondering if one of them injured the other.

Gerard hadn't given them the opportunity.

How can one not admire the beauty of dancing? Small, slow movements or large, sporadic movements, it didn't matter. Dancing was beautiful. Frank simply wanting engage in the beauty.

Are you remembering the kinkiness our boys 'engaged' in? Well, stop remembering, you dirty minded individual.

Another day came where Frank was longing for movement. His work had beaten him down, making him weary and short-fused. He wanted to sit down with a coffee and relax, forgetting about the day he had suffered through.

When he walked through the door to his and Gerard's apartment, he did just that. A cup of black coffee had already been brewed for him. However, a red-haired beauty was not prepared for him to dance with.

Gerard took a seat next to his lover at the table. Sensing his shorter partner's tenseness, he rubbed his back lovingly. Gerard ran his fingers through Frank's hair, kissed his cheek, and brought him into an embrace.

Had they been naked, this embrace would have turned into hot and steamy "life doesn't matter when you have me to sex with" sex, but they were clothed, and you need to stop thinking about naked men. I don't understand why you keep thinking such things!

"Teach me how to dance, Gerard." it was far from a question by now. It was a demand that was never met. A need that was never fulfilled.

"I can't teach you what I don't know how to do." Gerard replied, kissing Frank's cheek once again.

Frank, by this point, had lost all hope in his dream. Tears welled in his eyes, threatening to overflow with one more word. He removed Gerard's hands from his body, no longer feeling the need or want for his physical contact.

"I will, however, let you teach me of you do me a favour." Frank's head shot up, confusion lacing his features. He nodded, asking what the favour would be.

Gerard smiled, his hands shaking, his eye twitching. When Gerard got down on one knee, not to blow him as you may be thinking, the wind seemed to be knocked out of Frank.

"Frank Iero, will you do me the amazing honour of marrying me, being my husband, and teaching me how to dance?" the ring hadn't been elaborate, or flashy, or expensive, but Frank looked at it as if it were the best thing he could ever receive, even more than a dancing. In fact, it was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

"God dammit, Gerard. Hell yes I'll marry you! Is this why you REFUSED to teach me how to dance? To propose to me one day?"

Gerard smirked. "No, I just can't dance. I'm not teaching you how to dance, either. You're teaching me." Gerard pulled Frank into a kiss, nuzzling his nose in the process. "I can, however, do amazing frick-frack. Want to join me?"

And yes, they did the frick-frack. They did the do, and it is now the perfect time to imagine their bodies because, damn son, they are fine men.