Chapter 11

Frank liked Gerard, he really fucking did. He wasn't in love with the guy, but most definitely on his way towards it. Since day one, it had always been Gerard, well, not always, but since the dorky white-haired boy had stepped out of the shadows and accidentally spilled his name to Frank, he had instantly become the most adorable human being Frank had talked to.

Gerard had warmed up to Frank little by little, to the point where he not only thought he was attractive, but also realized how sweet and kind Frank could be. Even if most of the time he was a tiny ball full of energy who jumped from wall to wall, rummaging through the store one second and then up in Gerard's face whining about not getting enough kisses.

But Gerard put up with it, because he just couldn't resist Frank's charms. Or at least that was what Frank told himself.

Frank adored Gerard, and it was just as simple as that. He was seventeen, a goddamned teenager, and he was allowed to fall for someone in a week, and he was allowed to be horny twenty-four seven and jack off in his bed alone thinking of the little airy gasps Gerard emitted when his short white hair was pulled, he was allowed to get in a serious relationship if he wanted, and he was allowed to just have this sort of "friends with benefits who kind of don't date anyone else and who make out like ninety-four percent of the time they are in the same room" thing with Gerard.

He was allowed, and he was going to do it -and he was doing it.

But Frank was no dumbass, although often described as 'stupid', he knew no one was flawless, he knew relationships -or whatever the fuck it was he and Gerard shared- didn't last forever, and that there really wasn't no 'happily ever after' for when you were seventeen.

Yes, Gerard was cute, and adorable, and a dork, and Frank loved kissing his lips and touching his tiny little teeth with his tongue, and he loved the pale skin that almost matched his hair, and he loved the lame baseball caps Gerard sometimes wore because they somehow made him look even more adorable and pretty. Frank loved his hazel eyes, and he loved the way he would carry too many books at once just so he didn't have to make two trips, and he loved how Gerard's hand somehow always found its' way to Frank's neck when they were making out.

But there was just this one thing Frank just knew Gerard was lacking.

He wasn't going to throw it all away (dump Gerard) just because this one thing, no, but Frank didn't really know if it was going to work out in the long run without that special little thing Frank called passion.

Gerard was almost utterly perfect in every single way, but Frank didn't know if he could be with someone for the rest of his days if that person lacked the same love for art Frank possessed. It was just something that had always been in Frank's life, from a simple painting hanging on a wall to the street art he made along with his friends. Every single time Frank saw a painting, or even just a simple drawing, he felt so much emotion, he felt as if he knew what the artist had tried to express through canvas and acrylic and pencils.

Gerard had called Octavia's art vandalism.

Frank decided to push all these thoughts away, to the back of his mind, and instead decided to focus on the beautiful human being he had in his arms that went by the name of Gerard. He wasn't willing to let go of him yet, Gerard just had this something, which Frank couldn't see, that made him so special, Frank didn't want to let him go, besides the art thing.

It wasn't like Frank was torn between leaving Gerard or be with him, because that decision had already been made: he wasn't letting Gerard slip through his fingers any time soon.

He liked Gerard way too much, he adored the white-haired boy and his twisted taste in music. And Frank was allowed to be selfish and want Gerard, because Gerard was perfection inside a human body, and maybe the love for art could be taught.

Frank was not going to give up on Gerard Way just yet.

And those thoughts exactly were the ones running through his mind whilst he walked from school to The Way To Go, for it was Gerard's shift and they had arranged to meet over there as soon as Frank was done with his last period. The familiar chime of the bell greeted him as he entered the shop, pushing his big headphones off his head so they hung limp around his neck, the wire running down his black shirt and getting lost inside the pocket of his jacket.

Frank frowned when he noticed the lack of the white-haired boy behind the counter, and as he shrugged off his schoolbag and laid it on top of the counter, right next to the cashier machine, he craned his neck to look around the art store, but Gerard was nowhere to be found.

Whilst taking off his headphones and carefully setting them down on top of his backpack, Frank called out, "Gee?"

A shuffling was heard from behind the slightly cracked door behind the counter Frank was standing in front of, the one with the lettering that clearly read 'Staff Only'.

"In here!"

After quickly shrugging off his cotton jacket, Frank made his way around the tall piece of furniture and pushed the door open, squinting at the dim lighting and waiting until his eyes got fully adjusted to the change of light before he stepped fully inside the room. He instantly recognized Gerard, on the far end of the room, one of his dumb, ratty baseball caps laid on his head as his arm cradled an impressive amount of colored papers and one by one tucked them away in the corresponding crook of the shelves. An instant grin spread over Frank's features as he took in the scene.

"Hi, Gee,"

At this, Gerard turned around, setting his whole weight down, as he was previously standing on the tips of his toes to reach the shelf. A smile of his own stretched his mouth, and he turned to set down all the huge papers in his arm on a near table before walking towards Frank with his hands outstretched.

"Hi, Frankie," He said, pressing a small kiss onto Frank's lips, and then another one, for good measure as both their hands locked in between their chests, a love gesture they always found themselves performing. But it was cute, and Frank adored cute, and Gerard was also quite cute, and it just overall fit their relationship. One hand of Gerard's pulled away from Frank's, and it rested on the latter's hip, slowly but surely moving to his lower back, the tips of his fingers brushing Frank's ass as they kissed.

Frank felt like giggling: it was always him that started the first move, but it seemed Gerard had taken it into his hand, as his literal hand very literally slid over Frank's ass.

The shorter of the two pulled away slightly, smiling and speaking as their lips brushed together.

"What has gotten into you, Gee-boy?"

Gerard grinned against Frank's mouth, "You,"

And Frank fucking melted, because Gerard was the best boyfriend-type-person he could ever ask for, and the sweetest motherfucker ever, who could make his knees weak with just a couple of words, and if Frank didn't know better, he would guess Gerard was just trying to get into his pants.

"I really fucking like you, I don't know how you managed to do it, but you're the only thing in my mind, and not just because you're an annoying little shit, but- just, I really like you, Frankie, and- let me show you?"

Suddenly, Frank wasn't so sure Gerard wasn't trying to get into his pants, if the fingers slipping under the back of his jeans was anything to go by. And Frank was a hundred percent okay with this, he was so on board with this, he could only emit a small sound of agreement and hold the back of Gerard's neck as his other hand guided Gerard's to the front of his jeans, where his groin was getting interested.

Gerard cackled, "Subtle,"

"Screw you,"

"Thank you,"

That was the last of the conversation, as Gerard's fingers fumbled with the button and zipper of Frank's torn pants and snaked his hand inside, not inside his underwear yet, but gently touching and probbing at Frank's dick through it, causing the latter's breath to hitch and come in small little huffs.

Both of Frank's palms were occupied, one holding the back of Gerard's neck and the other digging his short nails into Gerard's bicep, all whilst his forehead was pressed against the taller boy's shoulder, mouth hung open and eyes screwed shut as Gerard wrapped a careful hand around his semi-erection.

"Gee," He breathed, feeling the older boy form a loose circle around his cock, giving it slow, dry pumps to get him fully hard and leaking precum to use as lubricant, which didn't need much time. In mere seconds, Gerard was gathering Frank's precum as the latter's hips gave short thrusts into the other's hand, wanting more friction.

Gerard seemed almost shy while giving Frank a handjob, doing everything slow and gentle, placing little kisses onto Frank's shoulder and hair and ear, breathing harshly as if it was him who was on the receiving end, and Frank just couldn't wait to reciprocate. But either way it was great, it was more than Frank bargained for, and it was perfect in their own way, and with Gerard's hand still pumping, Frank was coming in his briefs, a moan escaping his lips as he let go and squeezed Gerard's bicep until the tips of his fingers went white, much like his vision.

"Fuck- Gerard," He gasped as he came down from his high, the oversensitivity of Gerard's hand around his soft cock giving him goosebumps. When Gerard finally removed his hand from Frank's pants and Frank gathered enough energy to look up at him through his lashes, he was met with the sight of Gerard licking his fingers clean, giving Frank this look that would have him ready for another round if he hadn't just come in his fucking shorts, literally.

And then Gerard's lips stretch into this huge, goofy grin, and Frank just can't help it, so he doesn't, and he throws himself forwards and slams their mouths together, because he really likes this white-haired boy.

--

They really thought they were the only taggers in their zone; but the discovery of a fourth one was truly a rollercoaster of emotions, much like the time Frank went to that Paul McCartney concert. He had been ectastic that he was seeing Paul, then he was angry and pissed that it wasn't The Beatles, and The Beatles would never be back, but then Paul strummed the first few chords of Let It Be and Frank was so happy he felt he could fly.

The text Pencil and him had received from Octavia didn't give much away at first; it was a simple 'come over now', and both boys were at her apartment in barely two minutes, because Octavia didn't text, she called, and they knew better, so they dropped everything and ran to her flat.

They had arrived almost together, for when Pencil was about to ring the doorbell for Octavia's flat, he spotted Frank crossing the street from the corner of his eye, and waited for him to get there and greet his friend with a fist bump before ringing the doorbell. The melodic voice of Kwanza answered with a soft 'Hello?' to which Pencil simply answered with a 'hi' and their names. As soon as the buzzing sound let them know they were free to go in, Pencil pushed the door open and they jogged to the stairs.

Octavia was already waiting for them with the apartment door open, leaning against the frame with her new unnatural dyed blue and yellow hair, her arms crossed and a confused look on her face.

"You okay, 'Tavia? You look like you just saw a ghost or something," Frank joked as they walked into the apartment and the owner of the latter closed the door after them.

"Y'all will not believe what I'm about to tell you, I swear to God. Come on, I'll make us some coffee and then we can sit down," She said as they made their way to the kitchen and she got three mugs out of a cabinet. It looked like a routine as Pencil got out the sugar from another cabinet and Frank turned on the coffee machine. Finally, when each of them had a cup in between their hands and the two boys were looking at Octavia expectantly, she spilled the news: "There's a new tagger in Belleville,"

--
dw i hate me too!!
i have all types of excuses , i literally just came back from nyc , but im just a shitty author lmao

i send love and shitty smut,
blue