Gerard was more than used to being naked as just a casual thing, but being naked with purpose seemed like an entirely different thing altogether, which was exactly what put the blush upon his cheeks in front of Frank Iero.

Frank was beautiful naked, and in fact, just plain beautiful, and absolutely comfortable in the whole naked with purpose thing, and really with a job like his, he had to be.

Gerard couldn't really pretend that he liked what Frank did for a living, but he could at least just shut up about and appreciate something good, but he felt far too nervous and even just a little uncomfortable as he sat on the bed, awaiting Frank's command as the twenty four year pulled a few things out of his bag, which Gerard decided that maybe he simply just wouldn't question, at least for his sanity's sake.

"So, princess, how do you feel about getting fucked so hard that you won't even be able to fucking walk for days?" Frank smirked to himself as he brought up such a vulgar question in such a casual manner, but really, with Frank Iero, there was very little else to expect.

"You're awfully ambitious, aren't you?" Gerard decided that an indirect answer was the best way to go, biting down on his bottom lip as he continued to watch as Frank fidgeted around with his back turned to Gerard.

"You think that I won't be able to make you hurt, to make you scream, to make you scream out my name as I slam so hard into you that you can't breathe?" Frank turned around at that, eyebrows raised as a blush flooded the twenty eight year old's cheeks.

"I think... I think... I think that I need you and I need this right now."

"Shut the fuck up and stop being such a whore and maybe I'll consider making you beg for me to fuck that pretty little ass of yours." Frank rolled his eyes, catching Gerard's wide-eyed and begging gaze for just a moment, but pulling on a smirk. "You have the fucking nerve to call me a whore, and fucking look at you, fucking look at you begging and moaning for me, come on, Gerard, fucking beg."

"Oh... oh, please fuck me please, please just fuck me until I'm screaming, please, Frank. Make me scream, make me cry, slap me, hurt me, I don't care, fucking kill me if you have to, but just fucking come inside my pretty little whore ass and I will be eternally yours."

"Sounds like you've fucking planned that." Frank smirked, grabbing a pair of handcuffs and making his way over to the sexually frustrated mess of an 'artist'. "Do you rehearse? Have you fucking planned for the big moment when Frank Iero will finally fuck you?"

"N-No... no, I-" Gerard was lost for words, his eyes fixated upon the cuffs Frank held so fucking excitedly and then the way the twenty four year old seemed to ignore every fucking word he said and just pin him down against the bed like nothing else mattered quite as much as inked skin upon exposed and whore and the artist.

"You're so fucking beautiful when you're scared, you know? So don't fucking say that you're not scared of what I can and what I will do to you, because I can see it in your fucking eyes." Frank whispered as he handcuffed the wide-eyed artist, who admittedly, wasn't at all ready for being naked with purpose, let alone the purpose itself.

"I-I... Frank, I... I don't... I don't really... have sex... I mean, not regularly, I just... it's been a while, and-"

"You scared about what I'm going to do to that pretty little ass of yours. You know I'm going to fucking ruin it, and you know that I'm going to fucking ruin you too." And they both knew that Frank's words were entirely nothing short of a promise.

"Then fucking ruin me." Gerard told him: reckless and thinking without the aid of a single brain cell, and only in the way the twenty four year old looked at him, and the way he looked like this.

"Don't fucking tell me what to do. Get on your fucking knees." And with cuffed hands, the task wasn't exactly easy, but soon enough, Frank was practically pushing him down and spreading his legs apart like he owned Gerard entirely.

"Fuck..." Gerard moaned out, his head spinning and his whole world fucking buzzing as he leaned back against Frank: tip at his entrance, and far too ready for his own good.

"We're not nearly ready for that, yet, artslut, come on, keep your pretty ass in the air for me, and I'll make it mine. I'll make you mine." And it was only Frank's tone of voice that set Gerard on edge in every fucking way possible, and he wasn't sure if he should be begging Frank to stop or for Frank to never stop, and really it was just too much of a mind fuck for him to even consider for more than a minute.

Frank seemed to do a pretty good job of distracting him anyway, but not in quite the way that Gerard had planned, but with his backhand down against Gerard's ass and the visions of red and purple bruising for days. "I want you to fucking bruise for me, and I want you to fucking beg for this to stop because it hurts so bad, and I want you to need me like I'm the only person that can ever fuck you hard enough."

"You are, Frank, you are." Gerard's words came out with difficultly and littered with the gasps and moans that would make Frank smirk.

"Prove it. How many spankings of your pretty little ass can you take, artfuck?" Frank paused at that, leaving Gerard to sit up in order to meet the twenty four year old's gaze, pushing all perplexation at the fact that he'd actually been asked aside.

"I don't know."

"Well, that's no good, is it? Can you take one hundred?" Frank thought it best to start high in the hopes that maybe Gerard would just give in to pressure, because the twenty four year old had to admit that he was cursed with a certain fascination revolving around Gerard Way's ass.

"No, I-"

"Fifty?" Gerard only shook his head, blushing a little as he did so. "Twenty five?"

"I... uhh? Twenty... maybe..."

"Right, then forty is it. Fucking pretty little ass of yours-"

"I said twenty." Gerard’s eyes widened as he looked up at Frank Iero and realised he hadn't a clue as to what he was capable of at all - he was just this attractive guy that wanted to fuck him, and Gerard was far too lovestruck to say 'no'.

"Yeah, I heard you; I'm ambitious, Gerard Way. And you’re as much of a whore as I am, so get back on your knees and stop fucking complaining." Frank smirked a little at just how Gerard obliged entirely without question. "Oh, and fucking count for me, will you, sugar?"

"One."

-

And Gerard was fucking wasted by the time they even neared thirty, moaning and pleading for it to all end - he just wanted fucking and he just wanted Frank, but this was too much and he knew it all too well, but the matter of giving in to Frank Iero was not something he considered happily.

"Frank, I.. can't- I-"

"You want it to end, do you?" Frank smirked, stopping and sit down beside Gerard on the bed, smirking a little as his once pale ass now raw, bruised and inflamed.

"Yeah, I-"

"Then just beg. Tell me how good you'll be and tell me that I was too much for your pretty little whore ass." Frank smirked, because he simply wasn't loosing something like this without a fight.

"I'm sorry, please, Frank, please- I-I'll be good and you were too much and too good for my pretty little whore ass, I-I... please, just... please." Frank only grinned in response, uncuffing the artist and getting up from the bed as the twenty eight year old fell down against the mattress, struggling to breathe just a little.

"Talk to me about art, and talking to me about fucking, and what makes it beautiful." Frank's words were slow and his eyes were wide and almost questioning as he ran his gaze over various paintbrushes and art utensils scattered around Gerard's bedroom.

"It's not beautiful though. Things don't have to be beautiful to matter. Fucking is ugly and fucking is raw and fucking is bittersweet: it's not art, it's passion, and although art and passion are often talked about together, they're far from the same thing." Gerard finally answered into the silence, his words kind of breathy as he pulled the sheets around his exposed body, because somehow, he found himself just a little too uncomfortable.

"That's refreshing from the usual artist 'everything is art' bullshit, but it's still so fucking pretentious that I want to slit my fucking throat." Frank picked up a paintbrush and threw it at the wall, the bristles splaying upon impact and falling onto the floor bristles first, effectively ruining the paintbrush entirely. "No, I will not pay for it."

"Why did you do that?" Gerard asked, not entirely upset by the paintbrush ruined on his floor, but just a little curious, and maybe just too uptight, but whatever, his ass fucking hurt.

"Art." Frank scoffed, and Gerard rolled his eyes at the fact that this asshole had called him pretentious only moments ago.

"And what kind of art is vandalising people's shit, huh?"

"The art of destruction. 'It doesn't have to beautiful to matter', huh?" Frank smirked, kicking the paintbrush a little and grabbing his shirt from the floor. "Are we going to fuck or should I just put this on and leave?"

"So is this just a fuck for you?" Gerard stopped at that, eyebrows raised and trying to pretend that he didn't care about Frank Iero even half as much as he really did.

"No, this is a 'there's no other reason for me to be here', because you're just sat there complaining about what you asked for and bitching about art and broken paintbrushes." Frank snapped, throwing the shirt to the ground. "I like you, Gerard, you know, but I can't stand your fucking personality, so just shut up and let me fuck you for just a moment, will you?"

"That's fucked up, Frank." Gerard pulled the covers away from him, still, exposing himself once again, and this time not feeling quiet as uncomfortable under Frank's gaze.

"So am I, and so are you. There's nothing else for us other than fucked up love and some shitty ass art metaphors." Frank didn't bother with lying to make people feel better and he made sure Gerard knew that.

"I want to just drink beer with you and paint and then you can talk to me about shitty things that people shouldn't care about, but I will care, because I like you." Gerard sighed out, running a hand back through his hair. "I'm just rather nervous about admitting that."

"Yeah, but that's not me. I'm not rom-com bullshit, and neither are you.. not really. I'm fucking and I'm doing an array of drugs and I'm wondering why my life is such a pile of shit, and I'm the artist's pretty ass whore, okay?"

"Then try, fucking try, because I like you and I know you like me, Frank Iero." Gerard sighed out, growing rapidly more pissed off with the fucking asshole that was Frank Iero, and really he was strongly considering throwing a paintbrush in Frank's direction, and seeing how he liked 'the art of destruction' then.

"Face it, Gerard." Frank walked over and sat beside the twenty eight year old once more. "Fucking face it, okay? You like me, but you can't stand how I really am. You feel just the same as I do, because we're fucking polar opposites, come on. Opposites attract, sure, but opposites don't really work out long term or when sanity's at all involved. You're pretentious, you care, you have standards, you're an artist, and you care too much, and I don't care, I'm messy, I'm a fuck, I'm a whore, people know me, and people own me, whereas you're this fucking egotistical recluse and I really want to punch you in the face-"

"Oh, because spanking me wasn't enough, was it?"

"Your ass is my weakness, Gerard Way. My one true weakness." Frank chuckled a little, rolling his eyes at what he'd just said. "You ruin me, and I have to ruin you to balance that out."

"Oh fucking shut up - you're all ego, you are, Iero." Gerard grabbed Frank's hand, and simultaneously, his gaze.

"Mhmm?"

"Yeah, you are. And maybe I do want to fuck, but maybe not yet, maybe not now, maybe I just want to make out with you a bit... a lot..."

"If hickeys are okay then I'm totally fucking down for that."

"Oh god yes."

"I fucking hate art, you know, but me bruising your fucking pale skin is fucking wonderful." Frank sighed out.

"You're covered in tattoos, what the fuck?" Gerard laughed out, leaving Frank to roll his eyes and pin the twenty eight year old down against the bed.

"Tattoos are more of a commitment and a corruption... a destruction kind of thing as opposed to creation. And that's more of my style-"

"Oh, yeah, the art of destruction-"

"Fuck you, Gerard Way, fuck you."

-

Getting Frank Iero to shut up was truly an impressive feat, and Gerard managed it with very little other than his stupidly fucking pale exposed skin, and those collarbones- fuck.

Frank, although disheartened by Gerard's apparent lack of 'ambition' towards his spankings and perhaps even being Frank's bitch in general, found great pleasure in the 'art' of pinning the twenty eight year old down against his bed, the covers long discarded upon the floor, and Frank's lips finding themselves almost permanently attached to the artist's body.

"You're too fucking good at this, y-ah.. you know-w...." Gerard's words felt apart into stuttered, breathy syllables as Frank seemed to have no intentions of stopping, even with the seven red marks that would soon bruise into a dark purple that made Gerard thankfully that he didn't have any friends or family to explain this slutty ass mess to.

Frank snorted a little at that, pulling away for the first time, and only for the sake of snarky remarks with which to fill the otherwise silence, besides the embarrassingly slutty moans escaping Gerard's lips in a terrible frequency.

"It's not like I get fucking paid for shit is it, yeah?" Frank shook his head, before throwing his lips back down against the artist's collarbone and releasing several explicit little whimpers as he did so.

"Do you want me-" Gerard asked, his cheeks growing red as he came to realise that it had been entirely Frank making him feel good here, whereas he'd just sort of laid there like some sort of sexually aroused plank with fucking ridiculous sex hair.

"Gerard, do you not fucking get it? I'm the one fucking in control here, I fucking get off hearing fucking whimper and moan for me and I don't fucking want some fucked up artist bitch touching me in the hopes that it gets me hard, and then I have to act as not to disappoint, and fuck off, because that's the kind of shit I'm paid for and you were fucking right - well fucking done, so shut the fuck up and let me fucking bruise you up, okay? Or do you want me to smack you to ensure that you'll be good?"

"I-I-I..." Gerard's eyes grew wide like headlamps and his words struggled on the way out of his lips, as he found himself entirely too occupied with the way the twenty four year old forced the sounds out more harshly and how he seemed to know exactly how to get Gerard on edge. "I'll be good, but please, smack me anyway."

"You've fucking changed your mind." Frank remarked, snorting a little, but not entirely too fussed, and far more interested in getting the artist to spread his legs for him.

"Yeah, maybe your fucking hickeys helped with that." Gerard grumbled, rolling his eyes and rubbing down his neck and collarbone, only to let out a hiss at the bruised and now sensitive skin; Frank grinned in response, watching eagerly as the twenty eight year old spread his legs and allowed the tattooed man to lift his legs over his shoulders, exposing Gerard's ass, and leaving Frank with nothing short of an entirely devilish smirk.

"How many?"

"Like four." Gerard scoffed, rolling his eyes as Frank tried his best not to look personally offended.

"That's not very ambitious."

"Yeah, but you'll fucking quadruple it or something, you fucking bastard- seriously, what is it with you and ambition?" Gerard stopped at that, eyes widening a little, although Frank found himself in entirely the best way to avoid answering a question that he didn't particularly want to, and that was with his hand against the artist's already bruised ass.

Gerard winced a little more upon impact, and Frank stopped momentarily, gauging his reaction, before continuing, not forcing Gerard to count this time, simply in the hopes that he'd shut up for a few seconds at the very least.

At the fourth smack against the older's ass, Frank pulled away a little, catching Gerard's gaze almost hopefully, only for the artist to laugh it off, pulling the covers back onto the bed. "My ass fucking aches, you know."

"My ass always aches." Frank confessed, with a roll of his eyes, letting Gerard drag him under the covers with him, and only objecting with a slight wince as Gerard insisted upon nuzzling his head into Frank's chest before resting it in the crook of the younger's neck, clinging to him in a manner Frank realised that perhaps he'd just have to put up with.

"You seem so pissed off - it's just fucking cuddling." Gerard sighed out, his breath upon Frank's neck causing the younger to jump a little, kick-starting an exchange of a giggle and a scowl between the pair.

"I'm not a fucking cuddler, sure I get fucked all day long, but I'm not daddy's fucking pet or anything." Frank spat out, his face contorting a little as Gerard caught his gaze for a moment, before letting a smile fall over his lips.

"No, that's me, isn't it?" Gerard giggled a little and Frank really fucking hated the fact that he hated Gerard, because it was just proving the whole world impossible for him to live in.

"I'm not your fucking daddy." Frank gave the artist a little shove, leaving Gerard to roll off him, a little disgruntled.

"You're not my fucking boyfriend either so make your mind up."

"We're not... we're not even friends, this is just-"

"Just a fuck? Just like how you get paid, is it?" Frank paused, caught like a deer in the headlights and Gerard fucking knew it. "You fucking told me otherwise. I know this is different, I know we're different, so what is this? What are we?"

"Sworn enemies." Frank chuckled a little, and Gerard shook his head, getting up.

"Fucking sort your head out, alright Frank? Get out and fucking come back when you know who you are, let alone who we are. You spend your whole life fucking lying to yourself and it doesn't just hurt you, it fucking hurts others, it fucking hurts me too, okay? So get the fuck out and find out who the fuck you are, Iero."

"I'm nobody."

"No, you're not. I tell you that - you're fucking not. You're somebody, at least to me." Gerard found himself caught in yet another trap of sentiment, which he took a few seconds to shake off before snapping back into where they had been before. "Now fuck off, alright."

-

Hey guys:) It's been a while with this one - I'm sorry:') Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you did, it'd be really cool if you could leave a vote and/or a comment:) I love you all<3