i am an agent of chaos

Roadtrip

Sat, 19 Jan 2008 02:36:51 GMT

Title: Roadtrip
Author: takeoffmyskin
Pairing: Brian Haner/Zacky Baker
Rating: NC-17
POV: Third
Summary: Brian and Zacky take a roadtrip. Or at least attempt to.
Disclaimer: lol I don't own them
Author Notes: posted at oc_ca_slash

“Where are we going again?” Zacky asked, biting his thumbnail.

Brian sighed. This had to be the twentieth time Zacky had asked since they’d left California. That was only two hours ago. Within those two hours they had stopped at five different gas stations. Two of those stops were because Zacky desperately needed to pee; the other three were because Zacky need to stock up on ‘supplies’ which meant two cartons of Marlboro Reds cigarettes, five bags of sour gummy worms (and they had to be the right brand), and an absolutely enormous soda that could possibly double as a swimming pool for two small children yet, somehow, fit in the cup holder of Brian’s car. At each stop, Brian would stand in the medicine aisle, contemplate buying an industrial bottle of aspirin, decide against it, and later regret it the minute he started the car.

Now, Brian really did like Zacky. Really, he did. He was a great friend, a talented guitarist, and, if he was honest with himself, fucking gorgeous. He enjoyed Zacky’s company but he was so close to throwing the guy on the side of the road and letting the horny truckers have their way with him. However, the fact that he liked Zacky so much kept him from doing so. It had to be the eyes. Or the lip rings. Or that smile of his. Brian really couldn’t decide.

“Briiiian,” Zacky said, waving his head in Brian’s face, “I asked you a question!”

Brian snapped out of it and was surprised that he hadn’t driven completely off the road and into the barren wasteland surrounding them. He fucking hated the desert.

“What?” Brian asked, glancing at Zacky out of the corner of his eye.

“I asked you a question,” Zacky said again, nibbling on his lower lip.

“Oh yeah,” Brian sighed. “As I’ve told you a million times, we’re going to Chicago. And before you even ask why again, I’m getting restless. I need a new place to live. Plus I love Chicago.”

“Good ‘ol Chi-town,” Zacky mumbled, picking up his drink with both hands and staring out the window, the red, plastic straw placed firmly between his lips.

Brian just glanced at Zacky once more before reaching down to switch on the radio. After flipping through a few stations, he finally found one that was promising. He began to keep the beat with his thumbs on the top of the steering wheel. The sudden silence was getting to him.

Zacky continued to stare out the window. He sighed and stared at Brian. “Why do you have to go to fucking Chicago?” he whispered.

Brian sighed. “I told you already Zacky. I’m—”

“No,” Zacky interrupted, shaking his head. “I know why. It’s just…I don’t know.”

“What, Zacky?” Brian asked.

“Well…I’m going to fucking miss you.”

Brian sighed. He knew he was going to feel the same way. “You could always visit, Zacky.”

“’s not the same,” Zacky muttered, leaning his head against the window, his eyes focused on the highway.

Brian opened his mouth, wanting to assure Zacky that everything would be okay. But, no sound came out and he put his eyes back on the road.

The air was thick with tension for the next hour until Zacky finally shot up and practically screamed, “Look! A McDonalds!”

Brian chuckled, shaking his head. “Yes Zacky, that’s a McDonalds.”

Zacky turned to Brian, a pout gracing his features. Brian fought the urge to reach over and nibble on that lower lip.

“Pleeeeease, Brain,” Zacky begged, leaning over towards Brian. “Can we please get some?”

Brian shivered as Zacky’s breath ghosted over his ear. It was getting very difficult to keep an eye on the road when all he wanted to do was just kiss Zacky until he was breathless. Yet, he was annoyed with him at the same time. This would be the sixth stop and, at this rate, they wouldn’t make it to Chicago for an entire month. And they wouldn’t even make it to the cheap hotel they had booked for tonight.

Brian was about to tell Zacky to shut up, sit back down, and eat his gummy worms when his stomach growled obnoxiously. ‘Well, fuck,’ Brian thought.

Zacky heard Brian’s stomach and grinned. “Can I take that as a yes?”

Brian shook his head again. “Fine. We’ll stop. But we’re only staying for fifteen minutes okay?”

Zacky nodded furiously and began to bounce up and down in his seat. “I haven’t had McDonalds for fucking ever,” Zacky said, staring anxiously out the window. “I’m just dying for a Big Mac. Or a Happy Meal if the toys are good.”

Brian laughed. “God, you’re such a fucking kid sometimes Zacky.”

Zacky turned and smiled gently. “You know you love it.”

It was true. Brian did love it.

After a few minutes, they finally arrived at the McDonalds and Zacky jumped out of the car and screamed, “Fucking finally!” Brian just laughed and followed him inside.

The smell of fried food and cheese assaulted Brian’s nostrils as he stepped into the ‘restaurant.’ He hadn’t been here since he was just a kid. He looked back and forth, searching for Zacky. He finally found him at the front of the line, staring at the menu up above the cash register as if he was pondering the meaning of existence. Finally, his face lit up and he looked towards Brian.

“Dude,” Zacky called out. “Get the fuck over here and place your order!”

Brian slowly made his way over towards Zacky who was speaking to the cashier. Once Brian reached the cashier, he placed his order, paid for the both of them, and then Zacky tugged him by the hand towards a table. Finally their order was called out and Zacky rushed up to get their trays. He returned and shoved Brian’s tray in front of him before setting his down carefully; he had at least five or six paper cups filled to the brim with ketchup.

Brian laughed loudly and pointed to the little cups. “Got enough ketchup there Zacky?”

Zacky shrugged and opened the box to his Happy Meal. “I like ketchup.”

Brian took a bite into his cheeseburger. It didn’t taste as good as it did when he was a kid. Then again it was just a greasy piece of meat with cheese dripping down the sides. Nothing special really.

“Oh fuck yes,” Zacky whispered triumphantly. Brian looked up, mouth half full of cheeseburger, and saw Zacky staring happily at his toy.

“It’s a Transformer,” Zacky said grinning and ripping open the plastic wrapping. “It’s fucking Bumblebee!”

Brian chuckled. Zacky did love his Transformers.

The rest of the meal proceeded in silence until Zacky announced that he was ‘so fucking full.’ The two left and walked back towards the car, Zacky brushing up against Brian’s side, his hand playing with Brian’s. Brian just wanted to stop and kiss Zacky senseless right in the middle of the parking lot.

Both of them finally made it to the car and, the very second Brian buckled his seatbelt and turned on the ignition, Zacky lit up a cigarette and asked, “How much longer?”

Brian sighed exasperatedly and let his head hit the steering wheel. “Forever.”

Zacky shrugged and blew the smoke out the window.

Thankfully, within twenty minutes, Zacky had fallen asleep. It was kind of fucking cute, Brian mused. Zacky was curled up in the fetal position, head resting against the door, mouth half open. That fucking bottom lip was taunting Brian again, the lip rings glinting in the sunlight. Yeah, he was definitely attracted to those lip rings Zacky wore.

A few hours later, the car began to make loud sputtering noises, smoke rising from the hood.

“Oh shit,” Brian said.

It was then that Zacky woke up. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. “What’s wrong Brian?”

“It’s the fucking car,” Brian said, nervously pulling over to the side.

“Oh.”

Brian stopped the car, got out, and opened the hood. Smoke billowed out making him cough roughly. Suddenly, a large clang emitted from the engine.

“Shit,” Brian mumbled.

Zacky suddenly appeared at his side, resting his head on Brian’s shoulder wearily.

“What’s wrong with the car,” Zacky whispered.

“I think it just died,” Brain said, rubbing his face with his hands.

Zacky just sighed and burrowed his head into Brian’s shoulder. Brian shuddered and then pushed away from Zacky. “I’m going to check and see if it’ll even turn on. You tell me if anything happens.”

Zacky nodded and stood next to the car. Brian turned the keys in the ignition. The car sputtered weakly and Zacky shook his head.

“Got nothing Brian,” Zacky said.

Brian leaned his head back against the seat. “Fuck.”

He got out of the car and slammed the door shut. He whipped out his cell phone and found a number for a nearby tow truck company. “Two fucking hours?!” he shouted into the phone. “Fine. Just. Whatever, just fucking get here.” He shut his phone roughly and began to pace back and forth, kicking up dust as he went.

“Something wrong Brian?” Zacky asked innocently.

“Something wrong?” Brian said, practically growling. “Something wrong? I’ll tell you what’s fucking wrong Zachery Baker. This entire fucking trip. I thought it would be fine taking you along because guess what, I like you. A lot. But, this entire trip you’ve been getting on my last nerve. And now, the car fucking breaks down in the middle of fucking nowhere. I don’t even know what state we are in! Jesus fucking Christ…”

He stormed over to the car and grabbed Zacky’s pack of cigarettes and his lighter. He roughly lit a cigarette and resumed his pacing, smoke and dust swirling around him. Zacky just stood there, arms crossed in front of his chest, an amused smirk on his face. Sighing, he shut the hood of the car and lay on top of it.

Brian stopped his pacing. “What the fuck are you doing?” he spat angrily.

“Looking at the sky,” Zacky said. Brian looked up. He didn’t realize that it was nearing dark. He threw the cigarette butt on the ground and stamped it out with the heel of his foot.

Zacky patted the spot next to him on the hood. Brian numbly got up and sat down on the warm metal, resting his hands on his knees, the pack of cigarettes dangling from his hand.

“Pretty isn’t it?” Zacky said softly.

Brian looked up and nodded. “Yeah. It is.”

Zacky got off the car and grabbed the gummy worms from the glove compartment. He hopped back up on the hood and leaned against Brian. “Want one?” he asked, offering him the bag.

“No. ‘s okay,” Brian mumbled still staring at the sky.

“Suit yourself,” Zacky said, leaning back on the windshield and opening the bag of gummy worms. “Fuck these are good,” he said softly.

Brian chuckled softly and leaned back on the windshield as well. “Such a fucking kid,” he mumbled.

Zacky just giggled, and offered Brian the bag again.

“No Zacky,” Brian said, shoving the bag back. “I don’t like them.”

“That’s such a fucking lie Brian,” Zacky said shaking his head, biting the head off of a gummy worm.

“No it’s not,” Brian said loudly, throwing his hands up.

“It is.”

“Is not.”

“Is so.”

“Just try one, Brian!”

Brian sighed and rolled over onto his side, propping his head up with his hand. “Fine,” he said. “Give me one.”

Zacky grinned and placed a gummy worm between his lips.

“Ah,” Brian said, leaning closer to Zacky, “You want me to take it from you.”

Zacky nodded, the gummy worm softly hitting his nose in the process.

Brian leaned forward and opened his mouth. He quickly bit down and ripped it from between Zacky’s lips. He laughed and swallowed it. “It’s pretty good,” he whispered.

“Told you,” Zacky said softly. Those lips looked even more enticing to Brian.

“But,” Brian said, “I don’t think I got a good taste of it.”

“Want some more?” Zacky asked.

“Yeah, I do,” Brian whispered before tangling his fingers in Zacky’s hair and bringing their lips together. Zacky groaned into the kiss and immediately opened his mouth wide. Brian shuddered at the taste of Zacky’s mouth. It was sour, sweet, and tainted by cigarettes; he couldn’t get enough. He wrapped his arms around Zacky and pulled him in tighter. Zacky swung his leg across Brian’s, bringing their hips closer together. Brian broke the kiss and moaned at the feel of Zacky’s half hard cock against his own.

“Ah, fuck,” Brian whispered, flipping Zacky over onto his back, grinding their hips together. Zacky cried out and gripped Brian’s shoulders tightly. Zacky’s lip rings glinted in the moon light and Brian dove back down and sucked on his bottom lip. He loved the feel of Zacky’s lip rings against his own. He let go of Zacky’s lip and began to kiss and bite his way down his neck. He pulled the collar of Zacky’s shirt down and nibbled on his collar bone, making him gasp and clutch Brian’s shoulders tightly.

Brian abandoned Zacky’s skin and began to remove his shirt, throwing it on the roof of the car. He took off his own, throwing it onto the dusty highway and then attacking Zacky’s skin again.

“Fuck, Brian,” Zacky whispered, his hands tangling in Brian’s hair. Brian continued his path down Zacky’s skin before reaching his pants. He rubbed Zacky’s now fully hard cock through the fabric of his jeans making Zacky groan loudly and tug on Brian’s hair.

“Please Brian, please,” Zacky begged. Brian growled low in his throat and unzipped Zacky’s pants, taking them off along with his boxers. Without missing a beat, he fully engulfed Zacky’s cock making him cry out loudly. Brian moved his head up and down the length of his cock, sucking hard at the head making Zacky shudder forcefully. “More Brian,” Zacky panted, his grip in Brian’s hair tightening.

Brian quickly unzipped his own pants and threw them off. Zacky groaned when he looked at Brian. “God Brian,” he moaned. “Fuck me. Now. Oh god, please.”

“Sit up,” Brian said, grabbing his shirt from off of the road and sliding it underneath Zacky. He pulled Zacky down by the ankles, wrapping his legs around his hips.

“Oh god, now,” Zacky said, arching his back at the feel of Brian’s cock so close to his hole. Brian shuddered and bent down over Zacky, kissing him fiercely. He held Zacky’s hips down and thrust hard into him. Zacky screamed at the pain and clung to Brian’s back. Brian was still, rubbing Zacky’s back and kissing his neck.

“You okay?” Brian whispered.

Zacky nodded. Slowly Brian pulled out and thrust swiftly back in, making Zacky cry out in pain again. He continued to urge Brian on until he screamed in pleasure. “Oh fuck yes,” Zacky said, gripping Brian’s shoulders tightly. “Right there…”

Brian groaned deep in his throat and began to stroke Zacky in time with his thrusts. “More Brian, please,” Zacky begged. Brian’s thrusts increased and Zacky continued to writhe and moan and cry out Brian’s name.

“Oh god Brian,” Zacky gasped out. “I’m…oh shit…”

Brian’s thrusts grew harder and faster, his strokes on Zacky's cock increasing in speed. “Fuck…Brian!” Zacky cried out, clutching Brian’s back and shuddering deeply, coming on Brian’s hand. Brian increased his thrusts and soon came deep inside Zacky muttering his name like a prayer.

Zacky collapsed on top of the car, his head hitting the hood with a dull thud. He grunted in discomfort and stared up at Brian with half lidded eyes. Brian bent down and softly kissed Zacky on the lips.

“That was amazing,” Zacky whispered.

Brian nodded. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

Zacky grinned brightly.

Brian gently pulled out, both of them sighing softly at the loss. Brian leaned down and placed his arms on either side of Zacky and kissed him on the forehead. “Move in with me?” he whispered.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Zacky said, grabbing Brian’s face and kissing him.

“How much longer?” Zacky asked, playing with his Transformer toy.

Brian laughed. “Hopefully forever,” he said, grabbing Zacky’s hand as they (finally) crossed the state line into Illinois.

Vices

Sat, 12 Jan 2008 01:23:47 GMT

Title: Vices
Author: exposethebones
Pairing: Gerard/Frank
Rating: PG-13 for strong language
POV: First, Frank's.
Summary: Maybe I'm selfish. I want you. Just you. Not Gerard plus the drugs plus the alcohol
Disclaimer: I do not own (or even know) the members of My Chemical Romance
Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST~~
Author Notes: Beta? What beta?

I cling to you, trying to keep you from falling down onto the cold sidewalk as you laugh loudly and wonder why the stars aren’t as bright tonight. As you stumble, our feet tangle together and you giggle and whisper that I have pretty hair. You bury your face in it and smell, sending shivers down my spine. Our breath mingles together in the night air, yours tainted with the sting of alcohol.

You straighten up and clutch my shoulders tightly. You whisper, “I really do love you Frank…”

I wince. You always say this after half a bottle of vodka. I don’t know why I even take care of you anymore; I just get my heart broken each time. I’ve loved you for years, yet you never seem to glance my way. You’re too busy fucking your vices. The alcohol. The drugs. You hold onto them like you hold onto me now. I want to shake you until you come out of that fog and show you how many people you’re hurting. You’re hurting the band, the fans, yourself…me. My heart breaks whenever I have to pick you up off the floor of another band’s tour bus, you’re chin covered in your own vomit, while the others just sit around and pretend you don’t exist.

I really don’t understand.

Maybe I’m selfish. I want you. Just you. Not Gerard plus the drugs plus the alcohol. I want you to leave your baggage at the door and come into my arms willingly. Not completely wasted.

Finally we reach the bus. My shoulder has gone numb, but I don’t mind because you’re nuzzling your face into the crook of my neck. Even though you’re not all here, I take every ounce of affection that you give me. I’m so fucking greedy.

I haul you up the stairs as you start giggling again. Not the giggle that I love so much, where your nose scrunches up and your hand darts up to cover your mouth, but the drunken, half crazed one; the one that scares me.

I set you down on the couch and you smile up at me, your eyes turning into slits. I weakly smile back and go to get a wet towel to clean your face. The guys are asleep. They’re fed up. I’m the only one who doesn’t want to give up on you. It’s getting hard.

When I come back, damp cloth in hand, I find you curled up on the couch, face buried in your arm.

“Gerard,” I whisper gently, stroking your hair; it’s dirty, but I don’t mind. You lift your head up and smile at me.

“I need you to sit up, okay,” I say, still stroking your hair. Slowly but surely, you sit up and face me. I begin to wipe your face and you lean into my hand, sighing softly, your eyes closing.

I finish cleaning you up and you open your eyes, staring straight at me.

“I didn’t lie earlier,” you whisper, your fingers reaching up and gently stroking the side of my face. I shiver again, my heart pounding. “I really do love you Frank.”

You gently grasp my chin and pull me closer, our lips connecting. I drop the cloth onto the floor, my damp hand grasping your thigh leaving a wet handprint on your jeans.

This isn’t real. I’m dreaming again. I have to be.

Your lips are chapped and the kiss is sloppy, but I can’t get enough. Your tongue darts into my mouth and I groan, opening my mouth wide. The taste of alcohol flows in catching me by surprise and making my eyes water. Your hand tangles in my hair, the other one wrapping around my waist. My free hand clutches your shoulder desperately; I still doubt if this is real.

Your hand leaves my waist and travels down to my inner thigh, stroking softly making me moan. Your hand moves closer to the bulge in my jeans and I gasp out, “No.”

You pull away entirely. “Why,” you ask, cocking your head to one side,

“You’re drunk Gerard,” I say. “This isn’t real. This isn’t…this isn’t you. You say you love me, but only when you’re completely out of your mind. I fucking love you so much Gerard and it’s killing me. When we practically fuck on stage, I mean it. I want you to be mine; I don’t want your fucking drugs and your fucking alcohol. I just want Gerard. But I can only have you when you’re wasted and it’s killing me.” My breathing is heavy as I stare into your eyes. You look back at me, confusion and sadness covering every inch of your face.

Maybe you weren’t lying.

“Frank…,” you start, leaning forward. “Frank…I really don’t know what to say…”

“Then don’t say anything. Just go.”

You look back at me; the sadness on your face seemed to multiply. I want to take it all back, tell you that I believe you. I want to hold onto you and never let go, but it’s too late. You won’t remember this in the morning anyways.

You stand up, still staring at me. “I guess I’ll go to bed then,” you whisper. “Goodnight Frank.”

I nod and look away. I put my face in my hands and listen for the door to the bunks to shut. Tears start running down my face, but I’m completely unaware. My heart keeps breaking over and over again.

I get up and put on a brave face. I have to get ready for tomorrow.

When all of this starts again.

When my heart shatters again.

Flight

Thu, 01 Nov 2007 19:13:20 GMT

Title: Flight
Author: exposethebones
Pairing: Gerard/Frank
Rating: NC-17
POV: 3rd person
Summary: "Excuse me sir, but I can't find my bag," Frank whispered in Gerard's ear, gently nipping at the earlobe. "Could you help me find it?"
Disclaimer: I do not own (or even know) any of the members of My Chemical Romance. This is purely fictional and a product of my bordem.
Warnings: Sex (including frottage and rim jobs), cursing
Author Notes: Thank you to one_winged_hao who betaed for me and for inspiring me to write this story. I love you bb :3

It had been far too long. A trip from Japan to New York and Frank just couldn’t stand it anymore. He poked his head out of the cockpit and stared at Gerard who was ushering passengers out the door. Frank walked out, straightening his captain’s hat and bowing his head at people, nudging Gerard with his elbow softly. Gerard smiled at him quickly as he helped an elderly woman out of the plane.

Finally, the last passenger left the plane, speaking rapid Japanese to her small child who was clutching at her shoulders and wailing like a banshee. The co-pilot left, nodding at Frank and grinning at one of the female flight attendants. The woman giggled and whispered to the second flight attendant as they both left the airplane, muttering and laughing to each other.

Gerard began walking up and down the rows, scanning the plane to make sure trash was picked up and no bags were left behind. It was then that Frank crept down the aisle and grasped Gerard’s waist.

“Excuse me sir, but I can’t find my bag,” Frank whispered in Gerard’s ear, gently nipping at the earlobe. “Could you help me find it?”

Gerard was about to roll his eyes at Frank’s cheesy statement when he felt Frank grind against him; he was already half hard.

“Oh fuck…,” Gerard moaned. “So we’re skipping foreplay this time?”

Frank just grunted and reached his hands around Gerard’s waist, unbuckling his belt.

“I’ve waited over 20 hours,” Frank said, pulling the belt from the loops. “And the entire time I thought about fucking you into the seat.”

Gerard whimpered as Frank’s hands began to stroke his cock through the fabric. Frank pulled back and tore off Gerard’s flight attendant jacket, throwing it against one of the first class seats.

Growling low in his throat, Gerard turned around, pulling Frank close to him, kissing him deeply. He brushed Frank’s hands away and ripped the tie off, the jacket following before he made work of the buttons on the shirt. He slid the shirt off Frank’s shoulders, grunting as it stopped at his wrists, the cuffs still buttoned.

“Fuck it,” he whispered, ripping the cuffs apart, the buttons easily popping off the fabric.

He tossed Frank’s shirt on top of his own jacket before stripping his own and pulling Frank back in to kiss him fiercely. Momentarily he stepped back, just enough to look at Frank. He couldn't help but grin at the sight before him; Frank standing haphazardly, half naked, eyes glazed over in lust, lips red and swollen, his pilot’s hat lopsided on his head.

“God damn you look so fucking gorgeous in that hat,” Gerard whispered grabbing Frank’s body and pulling him flush against his own. He ran his hands down Frank’s back and around his hips, finally reaching his pants and fumbling with the belt.

“Off, off, off,” Frank panted, throwing his head back, sweat already dripping down his face. Gerard pulled the pants towards him by the belt loops, Frank nearly falling into his arms before kicking the pants off behind another chair. He fell to his knees, eyelevel with Gerard's crotch, rubbing his cock through the fabric.

“Fuck, Frank,” Gerard whispered, running his fingers through his hair, watching Frank through half-lidded eyes.

Frank cursed under his breath when the button refused to cooperate, almost rejoicing when it finally popped loose. He pulled down the zipper with his teeth, Gerard’ grip on his hair tightening, muttered curses escaping his lips. Finally, Gerard’s cock was free and Frank unleashed the throaty moan he had been suppressing.

“…No underwear?” he whispered, looking up at Gerard almost reverently.

Gerard just smirked and pulled Frank back up by his arm. He pressed their foreheads together and, grabbing both of their cocks in one hand, began to stroke up and down. Frank’s breath hitched in his throat and he leaned against Gerard’s shoulder breathing heavily. Gerard looked down at Frank; his mouth was open, his eyes shut in pure pleasure. Gerard whimpered, increasing the speed of his strokes.

“Oh…fucking shit…,” Frank whispered against Gerard’s skin, clutching his shoulders tightly, his nails digging into the skin. He lifted his head and looked up at Gerard, mouth still open and breath coming heavy. He laced his fingers through Gerard’s hair and pulled him down, their lips meeting in a needy kiss.

Gerard’s stroking increased as did the kiss. Breathing heavily, they pulled away for just a moment.

“More…more,” Frank mumbled weakly. He was so fucking close that it was almost painful.

Suddenly, they heard a gasp. Gerard and Frank popped their heads up, eyes wide. One of the flight attendants was back for something. Her eyes darted between the two men and the floor. Gerard’s hand went limp and Frank let out a yelp, ducking down behind one of the seats, his hat falling from his head and onto the ground. Gerard stood still for a few more beats before jumping down behind another seat, hitting his ass on the arm rest.

“SHIT,” he yelled as Frank practically stuffed his fist in his mouth, trying to muffle his laughter.

Finally the flight attendant forgot about searching for whatever she had lost, muttering a feeble goodbye and running out of the plane.

Frank soon let out a huge laugh, rolling around on the ground between the seats and shaking.

“Oh my fucking god,” he said, wiping tears from his eyes. “Did you see the look on her face?”

Frank stopped laughing when he looked at Gerard who was staring at him, a predatory look in his eyes. “Uh…Gerard?” Frank asked, looking almost frightened.

Gerard ignored him and got on all fours. Slowly crawling over to Frank before sitting directly on top of him.

“Gerard?” Frank said softly. Then he let out a low moan as Gerard began grinding on him once more. “Fucking shit…,” he whispered, grasping Gerard’s hips, trying to pull him closer; the friction was driving him insane.

“God, I hate that bitch,” Gerard whispered removing himself from Frank and spreading Frank's legs apart. “I was so close to fucking you raw and she had to interrupt it.” He stroked Frank’s cock once more, making him harden again. He stuck his tongue out and licked Frank’s cock from tip to base and back up again, sucking hard at the head. Gerard removed his mouth and blew on Frank’s cock causing him to shudder. He stroked Frank and gently brushed his hands against his balls, making Frank grunt and clench his hands tightly. Finally, Gerard leaned down and just barely licked Frank’s hole. Frank gasped, his fists uncurling and his fingers tangling in his hair.

“Jesus Christ Gerard…,” he mumbled.

Gerard just smirked and licked harder, then blowing on the wet skin. Frank shuddered a second time and Gerard felt his legs twitch beneath his hands. Gerard stuck two fingers in his mouth, coating them thoroughly with his own spit. He looked up just slightly and saw Frank staring at him, a thin sheet of sweet already appearing on his chest, his breathing heavy and mouth open just slightly. Gerard stared back, raising his head slightly and stucking his fingers farther in his mouth, sucking on them hard as he removed them. Frank groaned low and mumbled a string of curses.

Gerard smirked again, placing a hand on Frank's hip before forcing his fingers inside loving how Frank moaned beneath him, begging him for more. He added another, Frank moaning as he began to stretch him.

“Just FUCK ME,” Frank finally screamed, his chest moving up and down quickly, sweat drenched hair covering his eyes.

“With pleasure,” Gerard said in a low voice. He wanted to drive Frank to the edge but, fuck, even he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer.

Lifting Frank’s hips just slightly, Gerard positioned himself in front of Frank, glancing at his lover for just a second before thrusting into him. Frank cried out at the forceful entry, tears were threatening to fall from his eyes. Gerard withdrew, and pushed in once more while Frank whimpered in pain. After a giving Frank time to adjust, Gerard’s hand was on his cock, stroking him, overwriting the pain with pleasure.

“…God Gerard…faster, fucking faster,” Frank moaned, his hands trying to hold onto something but failing miserably. “Oh, FUCK YES,” Frank cried out when Gerard just brushed his spot.

Gerard continued pounding into Frank, sweat dripping down his back. He grabbed Frank’s legs and put them on his shoulders, his thrusts becoming harder. He threw his head back; he was so fucking close. But he wanted Frank to come first; he wanted to watch his face contort in ecstasy as he cried Gerard’s name.

Finally, Frank reached his breaking point. Gerard ploughed into his spot and he came. Hard.

“Shit…GERARD,” he cried, coming on Gerard’s hand and his stomach. “Fucking shit…Gerard…I fucking love you…”

Gerard finally let himself go; his thrusts became quicker, sharper. His breath hitched and he came deep inside of Frank, mumbling curses under his breath.

“Fuck…,” Gerard whispered. “…I fucking love you too.”

Finally Gerard collapsed on top of Frank, completely exhausted. Frank pulled Gerard up to him and kissed him lazily before pulling away and grinning.

“Now I can check ‘being fucked on a plane’ off my list,” Frank said softly, playing with the ends of Gerard’s hair.

Gerard just smiled and lifted himself off of Frank. They were both sticky with various bodily fluids, but it didn’t fucking matter. They got dressed and tried to look as presentable as possible before stepping off of the plane.

Once they were back in the nearly empty airport, Frank looked outside the window, watching a few planes go by.

“Oh shit,” he whispered, beckoning Gerard over to him. “The cleaning crew. They were cleaning our plane the entire time.”

Gerard peered outside and burst into fits of laughter. “Calm down Frank,” he said, wrapping an arm around his waist, “I bet none of them noticed. Come on let’s get some coffee.”

---

“I tell you man it was one of the freakiest moments of my life,” said Jonathan, a member of the cleaning crew. “I was just cleaning the windows and BAM! Two guys fucking between one of the seats. I’m never gonna get that image outta my mind.”

The rest of the guys shivered just slightly, silently hoping that they would never see something like that. Ever.

Gone (Back) To Texas

Mon, 27 Aug 2007 22:56:45 GMT

Title: Gone (Back) To Texas
Author: exposethebones
Rating: NC-17 for excessive language and violence
Pairing (if applicable): Gerard/Frank (Frank is Gerard’s ex in this story...so nothing sexual)
Word Count: exactly 1500 :3
Summary: The Saint of Killers has been blowing people’s brains out left and right. Reverend Gerard Way (Reverend Jesse Custer), Pansy (Tulip O’Hare), and Bob (Proinsias Cassidy, aka: Cassidy) have finally tracked him down at an abandoned Texas church in hopes of finally destroying him.
Heroes/Villains: Preacher
Any notes/warnings: Go here for more information about the comic book. Thanks go to artallthetime for beta-ing this story and making it so much better. And for coming up with the title of course ;D. Originally posted at mychemicaltest where it took 2nd place.

Reverend Gerard Way wasn’t sure how the hell he’d ended up back in this old dump of a town, but here he was, leaning up against on old rusted pick up truck in Annville, Texas. His ex-boyfriend Pansy and that motherfucking vampire, Bob, were still inside the local diner while he tried to get a moment of peace. The two had been at it again, arguing over some worthless piece of shit. Finishing up the cigarette in his mouth, Gerard flicked the butt to the ground and lit up another. Closing his eyes, he rested his head against the driver side window of the pickup and loosened up his priestly collar.

“So Pilgrim, it seems you been forgettin’ what you was goin’ ta do,” said a low, drawling voice.

Gerard sighed. He was back again: the famous cowboy and figment of his subconscious, Michael Way. He opened his eyes, took another drag, and looked expectantly at his childhood hero.

“Ya see, Pilgrim,” Michael continued, “ya were supposed to stop that bastard.”

Gerard knew what bastard he was talking about. They called him the Saint of Killers. He had been brought back to life by an Adephi angel, but the poor guy had his brains blown out the second the Saint of Killers got out of his coffin. His sole purpose was to kill Genesis which was a spawn of an angel and a demon. It was a comet with the face of an infant and was being kept captive by the Adephi in order to protect the masses for its power was greater than Heaven itself. Somehow, it escaped from Heaven and was looking for a home. It ended up finding one in Gerard's corrupted soul.

Gerard sucked in another lungful of smoke. “Yeah,” he said, “I know.”

Michael nodded. And, without ceremony, he vanished. Gerard finished off the cigarette and lit up another. Suddenly, Pansy came storming out of the diner, hands jammed in the pockets of his jeans, a pout on his face accentuating his lip ring. Bob followed, Camel cigarette in hand.

Gerard shook his head as Pansy slammed himself against the side of the truck.

“Bob’s being a fuck head again,” Pansy huffed by way of explanation.

Gerard laughed and said in the voice of Genesis that gave him all the power of God's own word, “Bob! Get the fuck over here!”

Bob, against his own will, joined the two at the truck. “You know I hate it when you do that fucker,” he said, cigarette in his mouth. “So, preacher, where we be headed?”

Gerard looked at Bob. “My instincts are tellin’ me to go to the Annville church, but I don’t know,” he said, dropping the finished cigarette to the ground and stomping out with his foot. “All’s I know is that we’ve gotta catch that son of a bitch who keeps trying to put a bullet in my skull.”

Bob nodded, agreeing.

Pansy just stood there with a perturbed look on his face.

Gerard lit up another Marlboro and hopped into the truck. Without a word, the other two followed, Bob jumping into the backseat.

The drive down the old dirt road was silent until Pansy spoke up. “Gerard,” he said a nervous twinge in his voice.

“Yeah?” Gerard asked.

“I’m fucking worried,” Pansy confessed.

Gerard smirked. “Got your gun?”

Pansy reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a pistol. “Got it.”

“Then there’s no need to worry,” Gerard said, his eyes back on the road.

After several more minutes, the men pulled up at an abandoned, and partially blown up church. They all got out and approached the church with caution. It was dead silent except for the crunching of their feet on the dirt.

“Why would he be here?” Pansy asked, taking out his gun.

Gerard approached a wooden cross lying on the ground and poked it with his leather boot. “Not sure really,” he said, dropping the rest of his cigarette on the cross.

Suddenly, the half destroyed door of the church swung open. Gerard looked at the other two quickly, before motioning for them to follow him.

Gun cocked and loaded, he stepped inside the doorway and into the ruins of the old Annville church. He crept down the aisle that was nearly masked in collapsed pews and dust, swinging the gun slowly from left to right, a few lit candles that he failed to notice guiding his way through the dark church. The Saint of Killers was nowhere in sight, or so he thought.

“I see you’ve decided to show up,” said the son of a bitch himself a slight Jersey accent in his voice. He was standing atop the crumbling altar, candles surrounding it like fire. His massive amount of hair, crushed under a cowboy hat, seemed to almost glow in the candlelight.

“Sure have,” said Gerard in a calm voice, his gun aimed at the Saint.

“Now then,” the Saint said, “let’s get on with it.”

Shots rang out as Gerard fired his gun, hitting the Saint of Killers square in the chest. Pansy joined Gerard and fired two shots straight at the Saint’s face.

The Saint just laughed and whipped out two guns from the holsters at his sides and fired shot after shot.

“Get the fuck down!” Gerard shouted, yanking Pansy down towards the floor, shielding them both behind a pew as bullets ricocheted off the walls. Bob paid him no mind as he snuck up the aisle towards the Saint. He climbed atop the altar and gave the Saint a solid punch in the lower back. The Saint toppled sideways onto the ground managing to strike Bob hard with the side of his gun. “Fucking motherfucker,” Bob shouted and launched at the fallen Saint.
Four gun shots were fired in quick succession straight through Bob’s back.

Bob just scoffed, the blood streaming down his back, but not making him any weaker, “Fuck, you’ll hafta try harder than that.” He grinned down at the angry gunman, bearing his teeth as if preparing for the kill.

The Saint of Killers shoved his guns into Bob’s gut and pushed him off forcefully onto the floor. Standing up, he slammed his heavy boot into Bob’s face.

“Shite,” Bob moaned.

The Saint of Killers spit on Bob and turned to the other two, guns wielded.

“Fuck you, you fucking bastard,” Pansy cried out in a fit of rage and started firing his gun at the Saint. His shots just bounced off and hit the dusty floor with a dull clatter. The Saint of Killers kept moving towards Pansy before cocking his gun and shooting him straight in the stomach.

Pansy’s eyes went wide and his hands clenched his sides as he slowly fell towards the ground. He lay there, face down and breathing heavily.

Gerard took one look at Pansy and cried out in rage. ‘Fuck shooting him,’ he thought and launched at the Saint striking him in the back of the head with his gun. The Saint stumbled, and Gerard pounded the gun into the back of the Saint’s knees. He toppled down, landing heavily as Gerard tried to find some way to destroy him.

‘The candles,’ he thought. He ran up towards the altar and grabbed one.

Turning around, candles in hand, he watched the Saint of Killers get up. “What are you going to do with those?” he asked.

Gerard grinned menacingly, “I’m gonna burn this fucker down.” With that, he picked up a chunk of wood that was lying near the altar and set half of it on fire. He aimed and chucked it at the Saint, watching as its clothes caught on fire rapidly. Taking another candle, he threw it behind the altar. Soon, all of the candles were gone and the fire was spreading quickly throughout the church, consuming what was left of it.

Jumping off the altar, Gerard nudged Bob with his foot. “Get up,” he said quickly.

Bob opened his eyes and stood, his face just as it was before. “Lemme light this fag first,” Bob said, sticking a cigarette into a huge flame behind him.

“Fuck that Bob,” Gerard shouted.

Soon, the individual flames began to join together and multiply in size. In the center of the spectacle was the Saint of Killers watching the flames with mild shock.

Gerard ran up to Pansy, who was lying on the ground moaning softly, painfully.

“Pansy,” he said softly, turning him over as gently as possible.

“...Yeah?” Pansy said with difficulty.

Gerard just grinned and brushed the hair from Pansy’s forehead. Looking back he saw the flames rushing towards them, Bob nowhere in sight. Carefully, but quickly, he picked Pansy up in his arms.

“...Gerard...where are we going?” Pansy whispered.

Gerard had no time to answer as the flames began to draw even closer, threatening to singe his eyebrows. Without a second thought, Gerard ran, fast, out of the church and into the night, Pansy clutched tightly to his chest.

The Doll

Mon, 11 Jun 2007 16:27:19 GMT

Title: The Doll
Author: exposethebones
Rating: R
Needle use: torture
Word Count: 803
Summary: Gerard likes to collect dolls.
Any warnings/notes: Gore. Blood. Improper use of needles. And it's unbeated, so all glaringly ugly mistakes are mine and mine alone. Originally posted at mychemicaltest

Frank was perfect in every way. The way his straight black hair turned into tangles at his shoulders. The way his large eyes lit up and his small lips curled at the edges in delight. The way his smooth porcelain skin made Gerard fight the urge to touch and stroke it.

He was almost doll like in quality and, being an avid doll collector, Gerard had to have him.

Seducing Frank into his house was the easy part. Sedating him via needle and blow to the back of the head was a bit difficult due to Frank’s constant squirming and shouting once he sensed that danger was imminent.

Now, tied and bound against the hard wooden table, Frank lay motionless and susceptible to Gerard’s wishes.

With gentle care, Gerard stretched out a length of thick, black thread and pushed it through the needle. Bending down over his new specimen, Gerard poked the threaded needle through the skin at the edges of it’s lips. He dug, twisted, and pushed the needle through the skin causing blood to bead up to the surface and dribble down in tiny rivers.

Once the needle had finally pushed through the sensitive skin, Gerard threaded the rest of the black string through the hole and tied off the end once, twice, three times. After he tugged ever so gently to make sure the knot stayed in place, he continued his stitching.

Up and down the needle went. Gerard grew impatient with his work and began to rip the needle through the skin with great force instead of using his usual careful precision. The doll’s lips were now coated in blood and the edges turning purple with bruising.

Once the final hole was made, Gerard smiled and, after tightening it, tied the string off once, twice, three times. He cut the extra length with relish, beaming down at his new doll.

He was almost done perfecting his new addition to the collection.

Reverently, Gerard bent down and kissed the doll’s blood coated lips and, dragging his tongue across them, groaned in satisfaction.

With reluctance, he returned to the needle and thread. After pushing a new length of thread through the needle once more, he turned his attention towards the doll’s shut eyes. Carefully, he poked the needle through the fragile skin of the eyelid and pushed it with force. The thread slid through the hole with ease and he tied the end of the string once, twice, three times before quickly stitching the eye shut.

As Gerard began work on the other eye, the doll began to make small, pain filled noises. Gerard was almost finished with the eye when the doll began to emit muffled screams and thrash about in its bonds almost causing him to accidentally rip the doll's eyelid. Quickly, he finished up the eye and tied it off.

The doll began to groan loudly upon realizing that it’s eyes and mouth were sewn painfully shut. It thrashed violently against the ropes making Gerard sigh in agitation.

“I really didn’t want to do this,” Gerard said calmly, amidst the muffled screams of terror, “but you are obviously not willing to cooperate.”

Gerard took his time cleaning up the supplies before gathering a large butcher’s knife from a nearby shelf. He held it up to the light, seeing himself reflected in the silver blade.

With another sigh, Gerard hopped up onto the table and sat down forcefully atop the dolls abdomen. He attempted to quiet his new prize by pressing his palm to the doll’s mouth, but it was to no avail for the doll began to thrash it’s head back and forth. With a final kiss on the dolls bloodied lips, Gerard raised the blade above his head. With a sharp thrust, he plunged the knife through the doll’s throat, cutting off it’s air supply almost instantaneously.

After a final choked breath of air, the doll stopped moving altogether. Gerard gently ran a hand over the doll’s lifeless face, his fingers smudged the blood across clean skin. With a longing sigh, he hopped off the table and began untying the binds before draping the lifeless doll over his shoulders and taking it away from the work station.

Gerard arrived, panting just slightly, to the room where he housed all of his dolls. This doll was his first lifelike one. The rest were made of plastic or porcelain and were not soft to the touch like this new doll was.

With great care, Gerard placed this new doll in a large glass case he had specially made for his new toy. After he shut the door to the case, he stepped back to admire his handiwork. Gerard stroked the glass door lovingly before returning to his work station to clean his tools.

He had more collecting to do.

Box Office Queens (all chapters)

Mon, 14 May 2007 22:20:43 GMT

Title: Box Office Queens (1-6)
Author: takeoffmyskin
Pairing: Gerard/Frank
Rating: PG-13 for this chapter, but eventually NC-17.
POV: 3rd person; switches between Gerard and Frank
Summary: Frank is the box office manager at a local movie theater. How will he react when his employee, Gerard, begins to take charge in more ways than one?
Disclaimer: This story is fake and does not reflect the personal or professional lives of any real person portrayed.
Author Notes: This is my first band fic. Also, it's not beta-ed, so please let me know if there are any stupid/glaring mistakes!
Warnings: Cursing, sex

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Bonus Chapter