Who The Fuck Is Frank Iero And Why Does He Want Me?

3. The Best Dreams Are Always The Wet Dreams

For someone who had only got back from the coffee run and the coffee shop a few hours ago, Gerard felt like he had deserved this.

Yes he had had a smoke first and maybe he had finished off his take out coffee while he flicked through channels on the TV to see if there was anything decent on, which there wasn't, but he really felt like he had deserved this.

He had had a productive morning in his eyes. Setting foot out of the house to go and buy coffee was an achievement in his eyes, even if he did hate going outside. He had survived in the outside world and really, Gerard felt like he really did deserve the nap he had had.

Mikey had gone out, leaving a note on the fridge for Gerard to find saying, if mom asks I've gone out with Pete. Be back this evening. Gerard had the house to himself, and seeing as he had been rudely awoken by Mikey and his threat of dousing him in cold water to get him out of bed, Gerard knew that he was going to catch up on the sleep that he had wanted to have this morning.

So Gerard had snuggled down in his favourite place to be, wrapping himself up in his duvet, fully dressed while he smushed his face into the pillow to make it comfortable, and then he drifted off, catching up on one of the things he liked to do the most.

Sleep.

Gerard knew that he usually never had dreams. If he did, they would dissipate and turn to lost thoughts as he woke up. If he did dream, he never remembered his dreams. It was a shame. Gerard knew how creative he was. He liked to believe he had a vivid imagination, so of course he wanted to remember his dreams. He wanted to remember them for as long as possible. Hell, even he would have jotted them down if he thought they were worthy of never forgetting.

And after this nap, Gerard woke up, groggy, but with a very clear memory. He had remembered his dream. For once his mind hadn't been like a sieve, losing the dream as soon as he woke up. He remembered it so vividly, remembered it near perfectly and wow, Gerard for once woke up with a smile on his face.

And his cock pressing uncomfortably against the mattress through denim. The kind of uncomfortable that Gerard knew he should do something about. But that meant touching it. That meant that his dream induced erection would really wake up and would want to be played with.

The dream was...indescribable. Gerard was still half asleep when he rolled onto his back, ignoring how the denim chafed against himself in an uncomfortable but yet somehow nice manner. Gerard was so happy that he had remembered this dream. Remembered how it felt so real, like he could reach out and touch what he had been dreaming about.

Whom he had been dreaming about.

The vibrant and stoned spark of a man named Frank had come screaming into his life and now he had filtered into his subconscious. Gerard had dreamt about Frank. Not just a dream, but a dream. Gerard didn't get these often, but he was so glad that he had had one about Frank. He was so into him. Still a little nervous because all they had done was heated kissing for a prolonged period of time, but Gerard had wanted more and that was enough to spark his imagination and bring him to life in his dream.

Gerard dreamt of hazel eyes looking down at him, lips mere millimetres from his, hot breath on his own lips as the words I want you rung out seductively in his dream. It felt so real, like Frank was above him in his dream. Gerard swore he could feel the warmth of Frank's bare skin against his fingers. Warm skin that Gerard trailed his hands down, reaching his hips before he felt fabric. It didn't feel like boxers or any kind of men's underwear. It was too delicate to be that. Too frilly to be like Gerard finding boxer elastic that he would pull down.

No, it was the underwear that Gerard had caught sight of in the coffee shop. The dark jade fabric that hugged his hips and was barely there. Probably being more like Frank having a kink or a thing for wearing women's underwear that Gerard imagined being semi-opaque, leaving him only just on display through the underwear, the line of his erection encased in pretty fabric. Desperate to touch him. Desperate to be in him. Gerard was just a little desperate thanks to his unfortunate dry spell and he really was aching for Frank when his hands gripped at his ass, making Frank mewl when Gerard kneaded and spread him apart.