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Tile: I know what boys like
Rating: NC-17
Genre:Comedy/Smut?
Disclaimer: I don't know anyone in MCR, neither do I own them of course, or their names. This story is a product of my imagination and as far as I know, never happened. Some band/person I don't know owns the song, but The Bouncing Souls own the version that inspired me. Very Happy

Summary: "Of course you can touch, silly boy! I told you, you're special...sexier."
P.O.V.: 3rd person, Frank centered.
Author Note: I wrote this for my wifey Nathy's birthday. I hope it at least amuses you. I had fun writing it Laughing

I KNOW WHAT BOYS LIKE

I know what boys like,
I know what guys want,
I know what boys like,
I've got what boys like.

He wasn't a manwhore. He was a teaser, a seducer as he preferred to call himself. He knew people found him attractive, sexy, tempting. It's not that he was full of himself. When he'd seriously think about it, while staring at the mirror, he wasn't so sure of what it was that everybody saw in him. Yet he had heard all those flatteries so many times that he ended up believing them. Not permanently, but at least as far as those special hours lasted.

He had perfectly clear what to wear to accentuate his natural attributes. He'd figured out every move, every look, every word to get him all men at his feet. He could have all women too, if he was interested. He wasn't. Boys were his aim; what made his blood boil, the adrenaline rush. Slightly sweaty boys with casual clothes and alluring voices making him feel wanted, longed for, desired.
Frank Iero knew what boys liked and took advantage of that.

He wasn't always this sensual creature in search for fun and compliments. During the week he was like any other 21 year-old. He had a small, crappy apartment and a low-paid boring job as a cashier at a women clothing store. Women. All his coworkers loved him and would gather around him during idle hours to hear his stories. They'd even give him advice.

I know what boys like,
I know what guys want...

Saturdays, though...Saturdays were Frankie's. He'd forget about everything and meticulously take care of every needed detail to be ready for his weekly sport: seduction.
This Saturday wasn't any different. There he stood in front of his full mirror, turning and essaying poses at the rhythm of The Bouncing Souls; checking that the super-skinny, light blue jeans granted his hips and ass the intended shape. Frank was kinda self conscious of his ass. He wished it was bigger, though he contented himself with thinking it was at least well formed. Small but cute, as more than one of his occasional escorts had put it. They'd always want to touch it, but Frank wasn't easy. On the contrary...he was definitely difficult.

Nose and lip rings gleaming under the neon light of the room. Eyes neatly adorned with black eyeliner and a subtle touch of red eyeshadow. Long, raven fringe falling perfectly straight and shiny on his forehead; cascading down his face, partially covering one of his bright hazel eyes. Strategy. It'd cause the objects of his dedication to want to reach and move that dark lock away. They all said Frank had beautiful eyes.
The sides of his head were newly dyed shocking red. It matched his pink belt and brand new red Converse. His was an overly thought, casual style.
He tugged at his short-sleeved, white t-shirt; pondering if it was tight enough or if he should change it for a sleeveless one or opt for a different color. He decided against, though. He didn't want guys to get that turned on. It was enough with white being quite fluorescent under certain lights. Frank Iero had everything calculated.

After downing a cold beer to get in the right mood, he applied a thin layer of lip gloss. Only the necessary to make his red, silky lips more pouty. Frank tried some kissy faces while he considered adding some oil-free foundation.
"Nah." he shrugged. It was too hot and he would sweat it away, which made it pointless. Not that he needed much make up. His skin was soft and flawless.
A last look in the mirror and Frank grabbed the car's keys satisfied; feeling that familiar tingle inside of his head.

I see them looking,
I make them want me.

The club was replete, the way he liked it. He'd arrive when everybody was there and enjoy the feeling of thousands of gazes falling on him; rock music running through his body and impelling him to shake his hips. A gay club. Frank didn't want to waste his time having to chase ladies on heat away. Too bad that it made him miss some heterosexual masculine material. Iero was one of those human beings that even most straight man couldn't resist.

Frank paused and scanned the place, ignoring the catcalls and pushing hands away. It wasn't the time yet. He sighed alleviated upon spotting what he'd been looking for. Propped against a column was his only male friend, Bob. Not-gay Bob, one of the few that were immune to his charm. And Frank had tried. Oh yes he'd tried. They'd been to high school together and since then Bob had been his protector; even if Frank had always sworn not to need one. They had stayed in touch after school ended and Bob knew of Frank's weekend activities. He didn't approve, but admitted that the boy was old enough to decide.
However, Bob couldn't stay peacefully at home knowing his audacious friend might be getting in trouble. Every Saturday he'd be there, watching like a hawk just in case Frank's preys turned into hunters. Even if he'd bitch at Bob every Monday, Frankie secretly thanked him. He was bold and resolute; but just a short, small, girly boy after all. Bob met his eyes and he blew him a kiss. The blond just shook his head.

He neared the bar, a sensual cadence in his slow strutting pace. He gracefully climbed a stool, dissimulating the technicality of it being too tall for him. He needed a drink but he would not pay for it. The brunette to his left was too effeminate. Actually, now that Frank eyed him better, he was dressed as a girl. Those usually would not pay Frank -who was borderline ladylike- any mind. Honestly, he wasn't attracted to them either. Frank Iero wanted men. It didn't matter if manly or not that much, but man who didn't want to be something else. Transvestites were too close to women, according to Frank; he was okay with cross-dressing to play for a while...but only that.

I like to tease them,
they want to touch me,
I never let them.

There was a blond to his right. He wasn't that much into blonds. Well, except for Bob, but he had long ago accepted that they'd never be more than friends. Party pooper. Anyway, he was thirsty. He needed combustible to fuel his machinery.
A loud dramatic sigh did the trick. He had his attention. Next he took a straw from the metallic dispenser and began to absentmindedly play with it. Biting it, twisting it in between his black nailed fingers, making a loop out of it and sticking his tongue in the middle. Then he felt it. Eyes piercing him.
"Want a drink, pretty?" the boy invited with a deep voice. Interesting, but still not his thing.
"Oh, if you don't mind...I'm so thirsty I could suck the life out of you."
"Then I'm not that sure I wanna buy you a drink..." he hinted. Fuck, no.
"Slow down, big boy...slow down!"
"What do you want?"
"Just beer, veeeery veeeery cold beer." Frank purred.
"You're a cheap gem, uh?"
"Hey!" he slapped his arm. "Watch your mouth! I just...don't like anything strong to start off."
"Ok, calm down! It was just a joke! I'm Dave." he ordered the drinks and Frankie gave him a visual reward; moaning, sucking at the foam and licking his lips at the most strategic moments. He saw Dave do the same, as if he was tasting him, having the worst dirty thoughts.

He paid for four beers and tried to kiss him every time. Frank ducked him, smartly occupying his mouth with the glass. The more he avoided him, the more the guy wanted him. Frank was filled with satisfaction, he'd get off to that. That's why he had to leave before this feeling had a physical effect on him.
He got up like nothing, too quickly, having to seize the counter to steady himself
"Are you okay?" Dave questioned.
"Perrrfect, but I have to go!" he slurred. "Hands off, please. Don't touch me."
"Wanna dance?" the blond invited. Iero felt bad for him but really, he was a picky individual and that Dave guy didn't reunite enough requisites to be granted a dance.
"Yes...just not with you." he walked away, straightening up and concentrating on not losing style. He'd not want to look like a drunk cheap whore, it was unacceptable. He smirked imagining the bar tender -who knew Frank Iero and what he did- laughing. Maybe he didn't feel that bad for the boy.
"Hysterical bitch!" Dave shouted. "Tell me your name at least so I know who drank at my expense?"
"I'm..." Frank turned to him, thinking. "...Matt. Yeah, Matt."

I know what boys like,
I know what guys want,
I know what boys like,
Boys like...
boys like me.

And dance he did. Alone, in the middle of the dancing floor; raising his arms and undulating his body as he very slowly rotated it. He felt observed, important, a star. He loved it.
Something was different that night, though. Everybody looked, some dared touch -or better said tried to; but no one truly approached him or risked talking to him. No one asked him for a dance.
"Oh, damn." he thought. They probably knew him, or his fame. He almost regretted having dismissed the blond one. Only not quite.

He found a hot enough guy who was also on his own and made his way to him seductively. The man neared his mouth to Frank's ear, but he didn't give him time to talk. He turned his back on him and resumed the dance; swinging his ass dangerously close to the man's crotch while Joan Jett's 'I love Rock n' Roll' blasted through the loudspeakers. He was waiting for this dude's hands to grab his hips but when that didn't happen he faced him, giving him a questioning look.

"Am I not purrrdy enough, hun?" Frank pouted.
"More than enough, baby." he screamed over the music. "But I prefer to avoid all good things I can't have."
"And who said you can't have me?"
"All my friends that were fooled by your games?" he took some distance. Frank Iero couldn't allow that.
"Oh, but you're different..." he caressed his target's face, biting his lip. That would always get him extra points.
"Come on! You'd stop me from even touching you."

Frank knew the boy was telling the truth. He'd seduce them, tease them, turn them on. He'd let them watch but rarely touch. Deep inside he was afraid, he feared it leading further. He'd had that, more than once; not exactly good experiences. Freedom was gold, love was a disgrace and sex was something he'd told himself he could live without. He owned a pair of hands and a collection of toys. Still, he needed the thrill of the chase and to be reassured that he was liked; that men lusted upon him. It was his drug.

But you, you're special...
(I might let you)
You're so much different...
(I might let you)
Oh, would you like that?
(I might let you)

This brown haired specimen was interesting and he wouldn't let him escape. He might as well make an exception.
"Of course you can touch, silly boy! I told you, you're special...sexier." the short one used his most slutty voice, guiding the open mouthed man's hands to where he wanted them. The other didn't emit any sound and limited to dance with Frank, who grinned like a kid high on candy when he sensed the envious looks. He played with the guy's hair, running his fingers through it. He got closer, yet their lips never touched.
I quick peek down informed him that he'd attained what he wanted. Some were so easy. The aroused one -whose name, he said, was Jack - desperately sought for friction; but Frank's arms would push him away.

I know what boys like,
I know what guys want,
I know what boys like,
I know what's on their mind.

With Jack being sexually frustrated after a while, the smart provoker was dragged towards the bathrooms sector. Frank wasn't enjoying the situation that much anymore, but he would not show fear. Never. If things got heavy, he'd only have to scream for help. Bob was always near.
"What do you say if we stay here where we can talk...eh...?" the pause told him Jack wanted a name. What for? Names are so irrelevant.
"...Sebastian." he muttered, amused at his own occurrence. He'd never used that one before.
"Sebastian..." the taller one repeated, breathing into Frank's ear and making him shiver. "What do you say, Sebby?"
"I..." it wasn't usual to see Frank Iero falter. He was a professional. However, this well toned subject broke that barrier. He had something, therefore he was dangerous.

Frank didn't get to think of an escape plan rapidly enough. Jack's hand was on his neck and lips crashed against his. Not violently, just needy. That...was wrong. He shoved the man forcefully, breathing heavily and wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand.
"No." he stated.
"But..." Jack looked miserable, rejected. "...I knew it..."
"You said I would not let you touch me and you already did that. Enough, honey." Frank responded cockily, retrieving a small mirror from his back pocket together with the lip gloss. "Bye." he waved.

I know what boys like,
I know what guys want,
they talk about me...
I got my cat moves
that so upsets them.

Two more hours, five more guys, ten more beers. Even in his dizzy state Frank managed to keep them all at bay. Hands off the prize. Except for the last one; the one who pleaded so cutely with his reddish curls and big lips. Frank had given him permission to place a hand on the small of his back. Not any lower. He'd broken his rules twice that night and would need to be stronger next Saturday. The curly guy seemed so sad when Frank put a stop that it saddened him too. Poor soul, he deserved a gift.

Zippers and buttons,
fun to frustrate them.

Again he was where he'd been led to earlier, blinded by the flickering lights and numbed with alcohol. He couldn't stay quiet, his body had a life of its own. He was dancing and singing along to whatever was playing when he entered the bathroom with the flushed man behind. Said man was shoved against a wall. With no preamble Frank sunk to the floor and unbuttoned his jeans, only to gasp in surprise. This afroed boy had a record size...and wore no underwear. Frank Iero was no improvised at the art of blowjobs, but he was afraid he would not be able to fit that.

He started by using his tongue. He ran it along the lateral swollen veins of the gigantic member, then twirling it around it. When he kissed the tip, he felt hands gripping his hair, setting one of his alarms off.
"Not...the hair." he hissed. The trembling man nodded and grasped his own shirt instead. Frank didn't try to engulf him completely. He'd end up gagging and that wasn't sexy. He took what he felt comfortable with; sucking and humming with professionalism and delight, gazing fixedly at the recipient's screwed up face. Just when he felt the thing tense in his mouth and thought he would choke or that his lips would crack, the owner of the organ stopped him.
"I don't wanna end in your mouth."
"Wh-what? No..." two seconds and Frank was the one with his back to the wall, being attacked by skilled hands undoing his belt. "NO, I SAID!"

They get so angry
like pouty children
denied their candy.
I laugh right at them.

No one would have expected such determination and authority in the voice of a seemingly delicate and undoubtedly sensual person as Frank Iero. The guy froze at middle motion.
"What the fuck?"
"You can look..." Frank blew on his face, staring into his coffee eyes. "...maybe, only maybe touch if I think you're good enough...." he gave the man's raging erection a squeeze. "...but never, ever have me."
"Uh..."
"Bye bye, curls!"

He needed to wash the pre-cum taste off his mouth, but he'd had enough action for the night. Frank paid for a strawberry flavored drink and leaned on the counter, relaxed and proud of himself.
"Ready to go?" Bob's voice reached his right ear. He'd always arrive in a taxi so he could then drive Frank's car and take him home when he was too drunk.
"No-uh. I had my fun, now I just wanna drink something stronger and maybe dance a little bit. You can leave, Bobby darling. I'll be just fiiiine."
"Sure." he went back to his beer. He'd given up on trying to change his crazy friend's habits.

I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like,
boys like...
boys like me.

Frank had finished his drink, contemplating a new barman behind the counter that might be worth a last display of sex appeal. His way of handling the straw instantly changed and his lips curved into a naughty smile.
All of a sudden, air blown on his neck paralyzed him. He closed his eyes tightly and waited for something, anything. A voice spoke softly and low, but the same he heard it among the noise. It was so close. So damn close that it was nearly touching him.
"What's your name, princess?" he better not touch him or he'd snap. Lies. He'd better not touch him or he might like it. Too much.
"Frank..." he blurted out without thinking. First time he'd given out his real name. What was his problem? That was the first drink with vodka in it he'd drank that night. Beer would never turn him easy. Frank Iero was never easy.
"Would you serve Frankie here another one of these?" the voice told the bartender. "And one for me."

Only then he realised Bob had disappeared and someone had occupied his place. Their stools were so close, practically touching. What a coincidence...
The stranger with feminine features was looking at him and smiling. Oh God, Frank found him gorgeous. Was he the owner of that penetrating voice? Long, black hair falling on his shoulders. Eyes of a color he couldn't determine under that scarce light; thin lips, small nose, tiny teeth. He was a little sweaty, a little messed up but still maintaining his fixed look on him. An old, shattered leather jacket on, even though it was summer.

One arm crossed the space and long fingers grazed his cheek. Frank didn't have the strength to stop him. Or the will.
"I'm Gerard." the voice said. It was the voice.
"I..." he was speechless and he wasn't used to it, he'd always have a comeback for everything. The glass that was deposited in front of him made him jump, but saved the moment. "Thanks for the drink, Gerard."
"You're welcome, beauty." the guy was far more drunk than he was and still his seduction skills were intact. Frank Iero knew about the subject and having a competitor inhibited him. Or...was he just liking the boy more than he should?

I feel so sad now,
I will let you.

Lost in thoughts as he was, Frank didn't notice Gerard reducing the distance between them. Not until his face was inches away and those lips about to fall on his.
"I...don't kiss strangers, sorry." he snapped not that convincingly, moving his face to a side just in time and making himself busy with his drink; not forgetting about giving Gerard some teasing looks.
"But I'm not a stranger..." Gerard smirked and Frank felt something burn in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to believe it was the vodka.
"Oh, no? How come I'd never seen you before, babe?" he slurred flapping his large, thick eyelashes.
"You've seen me every night...I'm the man of your dreams." he stated. Ok, that was cheesy and cliche. So why was Frank smiling?
"Oh, please!" he giggled. That mega-girly giggle was his trade mark, or one of them. "You could be a little more creative, don't you think?"
"You loved it, Frankieboy. You know you did, so bad that you're so stubborn and won't let me touch you properly..." Gerard tested. His fingers moved along Frank's arm without making contact, giving him goosebumps.

Sorry I teased you,
I will let you.
This time I mean it,
I will let you.

"How do you know?" he replied with a lengthly exhalation.
"I just do. Isn't that your game, dancing queen?"
"Who knows? I might let you..."
"Really?" the dark haired man raised his eyebrows and the closeness permitted Frank to see his irises better. They seemed to be hazel, just like his, maybe with a little less green but it could be just the lack of light. Frank's would change according to the illumination or the colors he'd wear. "You'd let me touch you?"
"Perhaps...perhaps...perhaps." he sang, index finger pocking at Gerard's mouth, chest and crotch. He sensed him shiver and grinned malevolently, satisfied that he still held some power.
"Let's see..." they were face to face and the temperature had risen. Gerard reached out for Frank in slow motion and the approached one could not move. Fingertips brushed that famous, unnerving lock of hair off his face and fixed it behind his ear. Light touch...oh how Frank liked it.

Closed eyes didn't see what was next. Those fingers were on his cheek and he was soon being kissed. He tried to speak, tried to protest, tried to walk away but really...all those attempts never left the category of thoughts. Frank Iero had broken two rules at once. But...how he'd missed a good, full kiss. Gerard was a wonderful kisser and his half intoxicated state didn't lessen the strength; it intensified it. Or maybe it was just that Frank wasn't in a much better condition. Either way he didn't stop it and the kiss got deeper and deeper. Softs lips that tasted like strawberry and alcohol locked with his equally flavored ones; dancing, sucking, biting. Tongues rubbing and some gentle pulls at his lipring. Frank didn't know if he should consider his current scenario as a having missed a battle or won a huge prize. The latter sounded less humiliating for sure. He'd gone from seducer to seduced in record time.

This until minutes ago stranger had a thing for rapid, unexpected moves. Frank couldn't tell when it occurred; but he wasn't on his stool anymore but in Gerard's lap, straddling his legs. Intrepid, hot hands were sneaking under his t-shirt and roaming through his sweaty, slippery back.
"Oh f-fuck, Gerard...." Frank broke the kiss. "...you're stretching my new shirt, man!"
"Such a diva...you...really care?" Gerard wouldn't quit and the other wouldn't go past words to stop him.
"Of course I care 'cause...uh!" the line was lost in a moan when the intrusive fingers went down and grabbed his ass through his jeans. This made him jerk his body forward and experience what he'd been auto-deprived of.
"Enjoying yourself, my petit?" Gerard squeezed him harder and Frank groaned, his head falling back. Some things were obviously and painfully growing in between them.
"Stupid...bastard...you..."
"I like you too, sweetheart." Gerard's mouth grazed his neck, kissed it, suctioned. Frank Iero would never let men mark him...

Anything you want,
you can trust me.

"S-seriously...fuck..." he was lost, he had no control over his hips, hands, lips.
"Wanna go somewhere more comfortable?" Gerard appeared to own a cliche dictionary and follow it to the letter, but Frank thought that everything sounded better when he said it. How had he become so cheesy? Was this a parallel dimension? The incredibly sexy, gorgeous drunk man was right, though. They were still at the bar...
"No...I don't want to...." he blew the words into Gerard's ear and the boy whimpered. "...but it'd be a shame to stain my tight...oh...so...tight jeans."
"Where?"
"My car?" Frank could be predictable too, when needed; and in need he was.

They didn't mind anyone discerning the bulges they ported as they stumbled towards the door. That wasn't exactly a place where people would get scandalized at two horny gay boys rushing for a place to get off. Some would just do it in front of everybody. Said behavior didn't suit Frank and he intuited that his occasional partner shared the same opinion.

Gerard had achieved something that many had only dreamed of; and Frank was reminded of his weakness when the club's attendees expressed their astonishment. It was a tie between cheers and curses for the winner. Frank forgot about his broken rules and his chest filled with pride at what he'd evoked.

They were by the door -after several stops to eat each other's mouths- when Iero incomprehensibly though of Bob.
"Oh...wait, I need to let someone know I'm leaving."
"Who...your mom?" Gerard chuckled.
"No...my grandma, actually." Frank retorted cheekily. "She's the queen of dykes."
"You have an interesting family, it seems."
"Indeed, Gee-gee. Jewels like me only come from the best f-families." he palmed himself as he walked, desperate to release some of the pressure in his front area. Having Gerard closely behind wasn't helping.
He was pleased to descry his friend right away and told Gerard to wait where he was, adverting that his grandma was a little overprotective and a weight lifter.

Bob was sitting on a suspiciously stained couch with a disgusted grimace on his semblance. He was being molested by a skinny boy with multicolored hair and sparkling clothes who insisted on mounting his crossed legs. Frank doubted if he should help him or let him experiment the marvels of gayness; but he wasn't a cruel friend.
"Back off, rainbow-fruit." Frank shoved the molester off. "This cuddly teddy bear is all mine."
"Oh...sorry." the kid blushed crimson and disappeared.
"Thanks, Frankie." Bob kissed his cheek. "But...you know you're not any manlier than that dude you called fruit, don't you?"
"Maybe I'm not, but at least I have fashion sense." he bragged with a hand on his hip. "Bob...I'm leaving. I mean...not exactly, but we'll be...using the car so...you can go."
"Oh, yeah? And how are you gonna get home later?"
"Driving?" Frank's grin didn't impress Bob.
"You're drunk."
"Nah...you think?" more giggles. He was trying to conceal the urge to rub himself against anything and anyone. Frank Iero hadn't been that horny in months. "Look, Bob...I really appreciate your concern but...I have to go. Like...really really have to go."
"I don..."

"Excuse me...grandma?" Gerard intervened. "I'm Gerard Way. I don't know how you can look as young as your grandson...maybe it's the steroids. Neither do I know why Frank has to tell you everything he does, but we're both hard as a rock and we need to go to the car and fuck or we'll either explode into our pants or die because of lack of blood in our heads. So bye and don't worry, I'll take care of this little piece of hot ass."

I really want to,
you can trust me.
How would you like it?
You can trust me.

Frank was now laughing hard -literally. He'd gotten into a serious, hysteric fit of laughter and Gerard had to guide him because he couldn't see; eyes pressed together, tears falling, face red.
"Frank...Frank!" Gerard slapped him across the face but it didn't hurt. It tickled, it aroused him, but truth be told: it made him stop laughing.
"Uh...G-gerard...fuck me...fuck me fuck me now, babeh." he was past the point of shame. Frank Iero was turned on beyond belief, humping Gerard's leg like a dog.
"Where did you leave your subtlety, whore?"
"Oh, fuck you."
"Make up your mind, pretty. I fuck you or you fuck me?"
"Uhhh...you fuck meh, Gerrrrard. Now." Frank panted.
"It'll be a pleasure, if you tell me where your car is..."
"Oh, right!" he took Gerard's hand and raced down the sidewalk.

Once in the backseat of Frank's car they didn't fool around. They knew they'd not withstand foreplay. Jacket, t-shirts, shoes and belts were all carelessly discarded without delay. Frank's curious nature mixed with his teasing one; so even if he was dying to behold what Gerard had in stock for him, he decided to take some long sweet time to unzip his pants. That, until Gerard had enough and told him to hurry the fuck up and lay off the character. Then Frank put trousers and briefs down in one clean tug....and admired in awe. Way wasn't as big as the curly guy he'd sucked off in the bathroom -he didn't think anyone could be- but he was a dignified competitor. Just...wow.

Having Gerard completely naked, Frank entrusted his half-dressed body to him, wanting to be free of those cock-suffocating clothes. His jeans had other plans.
"Damn, Frank! I can't get them off, I think they're stuck." he complained. Frank wasn't listening. Gerard's struggle was creating exquisite friction.
"Stop getting off on everything and fucking help me here! I wanna be part of the action, you know?"
"Uh...f-fine!" Frank grunted and followed by Gerard's incredulous eyes, he got off the car. However, when he saw the young man's worried look -who probably thought he'd gotten angry- he resolved not to make him suffer.

He thanked the fact that there had been no place left to park in front of the club that night. That murky, quiet alley around the corner seemed perfect now, as he stripped for Gerard in front of the car's open door. Slowly, erotically. A boy knows what drives boys crazy. Gerard was sprawled on the seat in all his naked, milky-skinned glory; propped on an elbow and using his other hand to stroke his leaking member. Oh, what a view for Frank when he turned round and faced him. He began to pull his denim up and down, up and down; unable to quit the gratifying movement. He was going to come right there on his feet if he didn't.

Counting three he let the jeans fall and stepped out of them, letting the breeze hit him and cool him down before returning to the car. A couple of minutes and a make-out session later Frank was on his knees, fucking the backrest while Gerard stretched him with saliva-coated fingers. Fingers that Frank had sucked at like a lollipop, making sounds that sent vibrations all through Gerard's spine. He knew, he saw him quiver. Pleasure had replaced pain but the digits abandoned him at the best moment. He braced himself, waiting for the real big stuff. Nothing happened.

"Gerard dear, would you..."
"Lay down." that voice that had made him ruin his career as an untouchable slut commanded. He obeyed, lying on his stomach; the not so padded surface bringing opposed sensations to his aching cock.
"No no, turn over. I wanna see your face as I fuck your brains out."
"Oh...please...do it." Frank begged pathetically.
"You're all so tiny and cute..." Gerard commented with a wink and a sly smile. Frank followed his gaze and understood. Idiot! So what if he wasn't that well gifted? "Well, except for your eyes...and mouth...and ego."
"That's all I need to have big, you monstahcock." Frank brought him down for a kiss, complex free. Before he chose the self sufficient path, when he did have an actual sex life, Frank Iero had never been one to top, anyway. "Have a condom?"
"Uh...I forgot..." Gerard's face denoted panic. Frank wanted to laugh, but he forbore.
"No condom...no fucking Frankie, mister."
"B-but Frank...I swear I don't..."
"If you want me so much...go buy one."
"I'm...naked..." Gerard's expression was too much to hold back the laughter any longer. "Don't laugh!"
"I have one, you moron! Right back pocket of my jeans."
"Oh, you little mean bastard! Tell me... why do you carry a condom with you if you wouldn't even let men touch you, uh?" he asked.
"I never know when I might be tempted to break my own rules..."

Frankie was determined to show off his abilities. Gerard would not object at him putting the condom into place with his mouth and then licking until it was well lubricated. Frank felt the monster twitch under the latex.
"Now." he was straightforward. Gerard didn't need to be said more to execute.

It'd been a year since his last time, maybe more. A year since Frank Iero got brokenhearted -among other broken parts- and disillusioned with men. His plan of making them suffer had lasted considerably more than he thought he'd endure it. And now he didn't mind that he'd failed. Not when he was being fucked into his car's backseat by a boy he'd just met. A stranger. A handsome one at that, he might add. Frank was liking it, he loved it. Of course it hurt, it hurt quite a lot after so much time, but he felt alive.
Every kiss made his heart beat faster, wanting their tongues to fuse. Caresses reminded him of forsaken skin. Each of Gerard's thrusts awoke sensations he'd though forgotten. And when that special spot was hit somewhere deep inside of him, he cursed himself for letting more than a year go wasted.

The man above him was beautiful. Frank was close and he didn't need any help to reach his climax. Gerard's body grazing his when reaching up to kiss him and the sight of the boy's rapturous face while moaning and panting and yelling profanities was more than sufficient. With a loud, liberating scream Frank gripped Gerard's back and came; his head thrown back in ecstasy and his mouth hanging open, gasping for air. Still in his post-orgasm trance he heard Gerard's feral growl and his body collapsing over him.

They stayed immobile for a while, his hearts and breathing normalizing. Their body heat added to the summer temperature had converted the car into a sauna. They were bathed in sweat and the upholstery was soaked. Frank looked up at Gerard and felt like breaking many more stupid self-imposed rules with him. Even other kind of rules. He was feeling giddy, silly, cheesy, giggly and cliche.

Gerard picked up Frank's jeans and rummaged through the pockets, triumphantly holding up and ID.
"I'm not a minor if that's what you're thinking." Frank uttered somnolently.
"Shh, never thought you were, you're just a midget." he hushed him as he opened it. "Frank Anthony Iero. Oh, you didn't lie to me...I knew it!"
"You knew what?"
"That I was the chosen one, the man of your dreams. I, Gerard Way, know what boys like..." he flashed that creepy and yet irresistible smile that Frank Iero already adored. "...boys like me.

I know what boys like,
I know what guys want,
I know what boys like,
Boys like...
boys like me.
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