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Chapter Text

Chapter one 

Frank Iero was a man of complexity on many different levels. In his youth, his glory days, he’d been the jock, the star quarterback, and the most popular guy in school. In his mid-twenties, he had a profitable football career and was one of the highest-paid athletes at the club. 

It was his thirties that saw the decline, the knee injury, the ruined career, the slow dissipation of his capital, the scandal. 

The scandal. 

In his forties he was lucky to get a job at his old high school, relying heavily on his past success and old ties with the institution. 

So he’d been caught getting his dick sucked by a hooker? Who hadn’t? 

Granted, the hooker was a sixteen-year-old boy, but still. Who hadn’t? 

The principal, an old buddy of Frank’s, understood his predicament and gave him the job without a second thought. 

He wasn’t exactly squeaky clean either. 

And so, Frank spent his days as a washed-up football coach, teaching high-school boys and eating microwave meals for one. 

He still worked out and still lifted weights, but the copious amounts of processed food left a ring of jelly around his midsection, that he always found hard to shift. 

His appearance was tragic, long, tangled hair, stubble that usually developed into a beard because he was way too fucking lazy, and dark rings around his eyes from staying up late drinking, and smoking cigarettes. 

Frank’s life had hit its peak and then plunged into the abyss, and he was now a forgotten face. He could relive his glory days in the high school halls, looking at old photographs of himself in medal cabinets, but that was the extent of his high. 

He’d settled into middle age with TV dinners, and the painful knowledge that his life would now be a constant drag, until he took his final breath. 

There was no prospect of marriage or even a partner, and no silly ideals of being a great football coach- the team sucked. 

He lived in a rut, and the only excitement he experienced, was from watching those shapely ass cheeks walk past his office every day. 

Firm, muscular glutes, tan and naked, skin so soft it made Frank shudder with desire. 

He was a pervert, he’d accepted that a long time ago, and so he felt no guilt when he sat in his office day after day, glaring through the windows into the changing room. 

Jocks were a special kind of beauty, athletic, sculpted, at the peak of their physical form. They’d strut around in their birthday suits with confidence, cocks hanging freely. 

Frank had sucked a million cocks, but damn, he missed being on his knees in the locker room, gazing up at a six-foot-something Adonis, with a mouthful of dick. 

Those days were truly his glory days. 

“Hey coach, I’m gonna stay back and use the track. I’ve got a competition on Saturday and I need some extra miles. You mind if I use the showers after?”

Gerard fucking Way...

How could Frank and his depraved mind, find any issue, with allowing the most attractive boy in school to use the showers? 

Frank had a special kind of interest in Gerard Way. 

The raven-haired boy, with his cheeky smile and adorable dimples, was the school's most promising track star. He’d won countless competitions, certainly more than the football team, and was headed for Olympic glory. 

That was his dream. 

Frank’s dream was to nail his ass. 

He spent many late afternoons on the bleachers, smoking cigarette after cigarette, watching Gerard run that track. 

The sweat, fuck, the sweat. 

Gerard pushed himself so hard, that the sweat would soak into his clothes, and his hair, and his brow would glisten in the late sunshine. 

Frank often fantasised about lapping up that sweat, burying his face in Gerard’s pits, in his pubes, in his ass...

After-school hours were Frank’s favourite time of the day. And he felt pretty smug, that he was the one to witness Gerard return to the changing rooms, spent and perspiring. 

Frank would sit in his office, listening to Gerard’s laboured breath echoing in the deserted changing room, and imagine how the droplets ran across his naked skin. 

But Gerard was unlike the arrogant footballers who strut around with cocks hanging. He’d take his bag, and his clean clothes, and disappear into the shower room, without so much as a bare ass cheek on show. 

It drove Frank wild. 

So much so, that he often found himself lingering in the doorway of the wet room like a sexual predator. 

It was a large, square room, tiled with baby blue slabs from the nineteen fifties, and never updated. At one end, a row of shower heads, buttons and knobs. At the other end, a row of benches and hooks for clothes and belongings. A thin partition separated the areas. There were no fans or extractor units, just a small, high, frosted window to expel the copious amounts of steam. 

And so, Frank would often hover in the open doorway, silently making his way inside, peering around the divide at the naked boy.

From that position he was hidden, and he could palm himself through his pants, imagining all the deprived things he’d do, if he could only touch that boy. 

He wasn’t an idiotic pervert either, when the urge took him and he could not control himself, he’d lock the door to the changing rooms, so that no one could stumble in and catch him with his dick in his hand. 

Or... because this often happened, with Gerard’s sweat-soaked underwear on his face. 

Sometimes, Frank would even steal pieces of Gerard’s clothes, mostly his underwear, but whatever was most covered in sweat. He’d take it home and hold it to his face, inhaling deeply as he jacked off. 

To say that Frank was intoxicated by Gerard was an understatement. 

And the way the water trickled down his naked form, running patterns over his trim, firm, slight body, always had Frank in fucking knots.

He wasn’t equal to the footballers, he didn’t have the build or the muscles, his sport required him to be light and quick, and his body emphasised that. 

The way he’d rub the soap down his chest, across his exposed abs, sometimes dipping low and giving his cock a firm squeeze... 

Frank could barely breathe, the steam and excitement choking his lungs. 

But he’d always leave before he was caught, and return to his desk, hiding his aching boner. 

He couldn’t have Gerard, but he could pick up a cheap, young hooker, and ride him until he begged for Frank to stop. 

“Thanks for staying back, Coach!”

Those were Gerard’s words each time he left for the day, as if Frank had anything else to do with his sad life. 

He’d miss his own mother’s funeral to watch Gerard in the shower. 

He was so fucking pathetic. 

He’d spend his nights jacking off to thoughts of Gerard, or all the cock he’d seen that day. He’d spend his days trying to coach idiots and watching the clock, waiting for the moment his favourite would stroll through the door. 

“Hey coach, do you mind...”

‘Come and sit on my cock and I’ll let you use the showers after.”

That’s what Frank wanted to reply with, but he’d force out a ‘yeah fine’ instead. 

Days and weeks would pass, months, and Frank more and more frenzied, would spend all his pennies on hookers with a slight likeness to Gerard. 

He had to or he’d do something he’d regret. He’d hurt Gerard for what he wanted, and he’d enjoy it. 

His thoughts became particularly bad when he’d see G with his boyfriend- Ray Toro. 

Toro was a nerdy fucking loser.

Gerard could do better. 

So much better. 

Toro crumbled when Frank pushed him in gym class, working him harder than anyone else. He knew Toro hated him, but he didn’t care.

Gerard didn’t hate him and that was all that mattered. 

He’d even overheard Toro complaining pathetically to his boyfriend- 

“I hate him, he’s a bastard.” 

“He’s nice to me!” 

“That’s because you’re fit and attractive. He probably wants to bone you.” 

“Don’t be silly, I doubt I’d be his type.”

Frank often pondered Gerard’s reply, running the words in his brain, over and over. Was there a hidden meaning in Gerard’s statement? How did he know what Frank’s ‘type’ was? Had he heard about the scandal from years ago? 

It didn’t matter. 

Gerard had a boyfriend and he was eighteen years old. There was no way he’d ever dream of sitting on Frank’s dick. 

Gerard was content with sitting on Toro's meagre, unimpressive cock. 

What a waste of such a good hole. 

Frank would fucking stretch that hole and make good use of it, make good use of Gerard, and have his knees weaken and his lips tremble as he came. 

Frank would fuck Gerard like no one had ever fucked him, until G was begging for him and their roles had reversed. 

“Hey coach, can I ask a favour? Would you time me today? I usually use my smart watch but the battery died.” 

“Of course.”

Frank stood on the track with a handheld timer and a cigarette, watching Gerard sprint around the track like a gazelle. So elegant, so fit, so sweaty....

 “How’d I do?”

“Shaved off one minute, well done.”

“Fuck yeah!”

The close proximity, the heavy breathing, the perspiration, the pheromones... 

“Go take a shower.” 

Gerard winked. “Yes sir!”

Was he flirting? Frank had really strayed too far to even know. The line was so blurred that it wasn’t even a line any longer. 

And that is why he sat in his office, terrified to move until Gerard had showered and left, concerned about what he would do if he moved from that office chair. 

But when he finally found himself alone, he removed his clothing and walked naked into the shower room, needing to feel something other than damp sweat on his body. 

And of course, while he stood there under the flow, he closed his eyes and jacked his painfully hard dick, almost to the point of orgasm. But he pulled back, edging himself, promising himself that he’d find a hole to put it in. 

And when he left the shower room, towel loosely secured around his waist, he was surprised to see the boy of his erotic fantasies, lingering in the changing rooms. 

“Gerard?” 

The boy looked coy, a small smile dancing across his lips. “Forgot my towel..” 

Frank knew Gerard kept his towel in the room he’d just vacated, and the wheels turned slowly in his mind. 

Gerard had seen him. 

“Oh.” 

“Wow, you have so many tattoos...” 

Frank could feel Gerard’s gaze burning into his flesh with hungry, shy, achingly desperate eyes. 

“Is your entire body tattooed?” 

The question hung in the room as the space between them grew smaller, the temperature rising, the atmosphere almost choking, stifling.  

Gerard’s hand reached forwards and in one swift movement, released the towel from Frank’s waist. 

“Oh.” 

It was Gerard’s voice that echoed in the room, Frank’s was lost in disbelief. His erection, which had softened, had returned with a vengeance. And he stood there nude, exposed, his flesh being raped by the eyes of an eighteen-year-old boy, the one he’d been so pathetically crushing on. 

“This is inappropriate.” 

Frank had found his words, even if they weren’t the words he wanted to say. 

“I took your keys from the office and locked the door.” 

Interesting. 

The gap between them closed until Frank could feel Gerard’s breath against his cheeks. 

“I know you’ve been stealing my underwear.” 

Frank would have fiercely denied the allegation, but he didn’t get the chance. Gerard was on his knees in the blink of an eye, with Frank’s cock down his throat. 

The door was locked, the boy was obliging and Frank was more than turned on. 

He didn’t think twice. 

He rode that boy's mouth with force, with every ounce of passion, hedonism, lust, aggression... all of it. He looked down upon him, Gerard’s eyes bleeding tears, the salvia gathering around his lips, drooling and falling down to his T-shirt. Frank felt elated, lightheaded, and euphoric. 

He came without warning and forced it down the boy's throat with determination. The slut would eat it all, even if he tried to protest. 

Once it was over, Gerard stood and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. They didn’t speak, they didn’t acknowledge the transgression, they just parted and Gerard left. 

Frank spent the evening as he usually did, with a TV meal and too much beer. But there wasn’t one second when he forgot what had happened. In fact, he thought about it as he stoked his cock that night, imagining how Gerard’s lips felt around his thick shaft, how warm, and wet, and deep his throat was. 

Frank didn’t question it, he didn’t have the energy for it. He simply accepted that it had happened, and hoped it would continue. 

Chapter Text

Chapter two 

Gerard Way was an only child, spoilt by his rich parents and doted upon by all family members. Everything he owned had been gifted to him. You could say he’d been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Any other kid would dream about switching places with him, even for only one day. 

But Gerard resented it. 

He resented it because nothing was truly his. He hadn’t earned it, didn’t deserve it, and the abundance of materialistic bullshit, the greed of generations, made him feel physically ill. 

The only thing that ever truly belonged to Gerard were his medals.

He’d earned them. 

When he was out on the track, running like his life depended on it, he was absolutely fucking free. 

Running belonged to him. He’d put in the time, the effort and the training. It was his life. 

Running was everything to Gerard. 

It was something his parents hadn’t gifted to him, and that was why he loved it. 

Gerard’s dream was to become an Olympic gold medalist, to reach that ultimate high and make his country proud. 

And right now, he wasn’t that far off his ultimate dream. He’d won all competitions in the state of New Jersey and had been scouted for the Olympic team. 

His parents were elated, but who gave a fuck about them?

Gerard didn’t. 

He had a loving, doting boyfriend, who kept him grounded and sane. 

And Ray was... nice. 

Ray was normal and mundane and from a poorer background. Gerard needed someone like Ray in his life, telling him the hard, honest truth, when it was needed. 

Ray was a good influence. 

And though Gerard’s parents looked down on his lower financial standing, they agreed he was a kind, stable, secure match for Gerard. 

At least for now. 

And so, Gerard spent his days either training, studying or making out with Ray. The latter always being a little frustrating, because no matter how heated it got, it never went any further than oral sex. 

His senior year blurred into one mundane, unappetising colour of beige, and the only thing that coloured his life was running. 

Until, one day after practice, he noticed he was missing a pair of underwear. 

At first, he shrugged it off as his own forgetfulness, he’d probably left them in the locker room. Perhaps, they’d even fallen out of his rucksack. 

But it happened again, and again, and again. Until Gerard was missing so much underwear, he had to buy new. 

And as the cogs turned in his ever inquisitive mind, he realised someone had been stealing them, and that the culprit could only be...

Coach Iero. 

And that epiphany resulted in some intense and deprived fantasies. Some of which, kept G up until the early hours, tugging on his cock like the pent-up teen he was. 

With his newfound knowledge, Gerard became somewhat of an expert on all things Coach Iero. You could say he was a little obsessed, bordering on stalking. But no one had ever spiked his interest the way this older man had. No one had been so completely aroused by him, that they had stolen his sweat-stained underwear. 

It was another level of fetish that Gerard had not encountered before, and it fascinated his brain. 

Gerard wanted to know everything, all of the complexity of Iero’s desires, his kinks and his deepest, erotic thoughts. 

Just the mere knowledge of what had become of his stolen underwear had Gerard’s stomach in all kinds of knots.  

And the brief interactions they shared each day, left G feeling pent-up and aggressive. 

He wanted more. 

That’s not to say he didn’t feel guilty, especially when he spent time with Ray. He felt particularly remorseful when he was smacking lips with his boyfriend, whilst envisioning his coach beneath him. 

How he wanted to sit on Iero’s lap and make out until his lips became chapped and bloodied... 

And so, Gerard obsessed and snooped, and delved deeper into Iero’s past. He found every article ever written, every football review and every tabloid gossip column. 

He learnt that Iero had been arrested for soliciting oral from an underage sex worker. 

That had Gerard wanking for weeks. 

He wanted to be that hooker, wanted to feel Iero’s thick cock between his thin, stretched lips. He wanted to drool and moan, and choke on that cock, until he almost passed out. 

So, he knew Frank was into guys. 

Frank Anthony Iero... that was his name. 

And Gerard knew he was into guys, younger guys by all accounts, which meant that Gerard had a shot. More than a shot, because Frank had been stealing his underwear and probably rubbing it all over his dick... 

Gerard did wonder, for some time, if he were the only target, or if there were other boys missing pieces of clothing. He wondered deeply, especially when he’d catch Iero in his office, gazing ravenously through the windows at the naked jocks. 

Gerard’s physique was nothing in comparison to the lean, muscular, firm bodies of the football players. He was trim and light, which was perfect for his sport. But he couldn’t help but feel he was lacking. 

Jealous? 

Maybe...

Probably. 

Absolutely. 

That is what motivated him to make a move. 

And when he finally found himself on his knees, with a mouth full of coach Iero’s cock, he couldn’t be any more fucking elated. 

Even when he left without saying a word because it made him feel ambiguous and sexy. 

He spent the next few days wanking into his hand, ruminating on the taste of Iero’s cum, wishing he still had it between his lips. 

And when the opportunity came to finally be alone again, Gerard took it with two greedy hands. He walked stark naked past Iero’s office and into the shower room, luring his bait to the trap. 

He knew Iero wouldn’t be able to resist, knew he’d be lurking within moments, cock in hand. 

And he was right. 

As he turned, back to the tiles and water cascading down his shoulders, he spotted Iero by the entrance. 

Gerard felt powerful, encouraged and raging with arousal. He barely thought about it before he took himself into a fist, and began jacking off. 

His toes curled, his back arched and his lips trembled. He held Iero’s enchanted gaze, and watched him push down his pants and pull out his own cock. 

Gerard had never felt so provocative, so alluring, so damn sexy, in his entire fucking life. 

And when they were both done, spent and unwound from their efforts, Gerard padded over and took Iero’s mouth without warning. 

The moisture from Gerard’s naked body drenched Frank’s clothing as they embraced, but neither seemed to care. 

Hungrily, they ate each other’s mouths, until Gerard was pinned back against the tiles with coach Iero blocking any exit. 

G could feel Iero’s half-hard cock against his own, and honestly, he could have cum repeatedly in that moment. 

It was excruciating to pull apart, but they managed it. 

Somehow. 

And Gerard left, with barely a few words spoken between them. 

At that point, G wasn’t even sure he wanted to speak to Iero. He felt no words could encompass or illustrate what had happened between them. 

It was better to stay quiet and enjoy each transgression as it passed. 

For now. 

Chapter Text

Chapter three 

It happened again, and again and again. 

If it wasn’t full-on sexual contact, it was lustful gazing across the cafeteria or sports hall. Frank would push G hard in gym class, make the boy perspire and lose his breath. He’d stalk him along the school corridors, waiting for the rush between classes, so that he could press himself up against G’s ass without creating suspicion. 

Frank felt Gerard was taunting him by training through the day, when they couldn’t be alone, or hovering in his peripherals, always out of reach, usually on Ray’s knee. 

The next time they were alone, Frank locked the door without a second thought. 

He’d sat on the bleachers looking down at G, cigarette between his lips and cock already half-hard in his pants. 

He’d lost count of how much money he’d given to hookers, with a slight resemblance to the boy who ran the track. 

He needed the real thing. 

He followed Gerard into the changing rooms and secured the door with lock and key. No second thoughts, no backward glances. 

Frank stalked him, ravenous, enthralled with the show Gerard put on, tossing his clothes here and there as he made his way to the showers. 

Frank removed his own and followed his gut or his cock, you could say. Because that was all Frank that was thinking about in that lustful moment. 

He had Gerard under the flow, arms snug around the boy's waist, cock against his pert, round ass. 

It was the first time they’d been like that, the first time they’d shared a shower; both wet and naked, and all up in each other’s space. 

Frank made out with Gerard’s neck, teeth mauling the flesh, even when the boy tried to resist... 

Ray would see... 

Frank didn’t give a fuck about that curly-haired cunt. 

Frank cared about the flesh, the muscle, and the bones he surrounded. With his thick arms, larger chest, and thighs that could pin his victim against the tiles, he was in control. 

“Damn, I wanna fuck you,” he grunted into the boy’s ear. 

“Oh, fuck.” 

It was probably the most words they’d exchanged since this thing had begun. That thought wasn’t lost on either of them. 

Frank adored every curve, every inch of Gerard’s body, completely fucking lost in the moment, that he had longed so desperately for. 

He held a firm, menacing grip on Gerard’s hips, holding him in place as his own gyrated aggressively. His cock felt harder than it ever had, wedged between Gerard’s ass cheeks. 

“Wanna fuck you, wanna fuck you,” was all that came from Frank’s mouth, because even though he could take G, he wanted the boy’s permission first. 

But Gerard stayed quiet, only moans fell from his lips, as Frank’s fist ran the length of him. 

And both, so overstimulated and dangling on the edge, came hard, before anything could be explored or penetrated. 

Frank could have been disappointed, but there was nothing to be disappointed about. Gerard hadn’t promised him anything. In fact, Gerard had barely spoken to him. 

Frank couldn’t work out if he was shy or trying to play hard to get, but he was determined to find out. 

And so, after the shower scene, he kept Gerard in his office, on his knee, making out lazily, until the boy became soft and sleepy in his arms. 

“You like this?” Frank asked, for lack of a better question. 

“Like what?”

Frank nibbled on Gerard’s bottom lip, hands spread wide, groping at the lush peach on his lap. 

“This.”

The boy giggled and hid his face in Frank’s neck, his whole body slumped against the older man’s, chest to chest. 

“I dunno...” 

Franks's eyebrows knit together. 

“You don’t know?” 

Gerard pulled back, just enough so their foreheads pressed together. 

“Yeah, I like this.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmmhmm,” the boy hummed. “I like it, a lot.” 

Frank ran a hand through Gerard’s hair, pushing it off the side of his face. He left kisses along G’s hairline, all the way to the shell of his ear. 

“You gonna let me fuck you?” Frank grunted into his ear. 

“Hmmm.”

“Hmm? You keeping it all for Toro, huh?” Frank probed, trying to keep his cool. 

“He can’t make you feel good with that tiny worm between his legs?” 

The boy giggled and hid his face again and Frank tightened his embrace, hands still roaming over G’s perfect ass cheeks. 

They were clothed, but that didn’t stop Frank from wanting to slick up a digit and force it into Gerard. 

“Shit, I gotta go.” 

Gerard’s phone rang shrilly on Frank’s desk, it was his mom. 

That was the end of their meeting, and though Frank had experienced more of Gerard than he previously had, he felt less than happy with the ending. 

He felt... discarded? 

As though the wind had shifted and the boy was no longer interested. 

Frank brewed upon it for weeks. 

Weeks.  

Because that was how long it was, between their third and fourth meeting. 

Frank’s mind became sour and vile. His hatred for Toro grew, like a nasty mould that you just can’t get rid of. He felt toxic, putrid, mentally disfigured, and wretched. 

“Hey, I’m gonna use the track, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, whatever.” 

Frank didn’t expect a single thing from Gerard, not a single goddamn thing. 

“My Mom hired this fancy-ass coach, that’s why I haven’t been around. He’s making me train at his fitness club.” 

Frank managed to grunt out a ‘whatever’, whilst flipping through a sports magazine and giving zero eye contact. 

“Can I use the showers after?” 

Frank gave a nod, never looking up. 

“Will you... will you be here?” 

Infuriated, Frank gave him a hard glare. 

“Of course, I can’t lock up until you’ve gone.” 

Frank despised being so horrid, despised the look of hurt and disappointment in Gerard’s eyes. He even despised how poorly Gerard ran that day, because it really was terrible, and he felt he may be the cause. Especially when Gerard boycotted the showers, grabbing his things and trying to make a quick exit. 

Trying to. 

But of course, Frank could never let him leave. No matter how angry he felt, no matter how pissed, jealous, and furious he felt. 

He couldn’t let the boy leave. 

“You smell so good,” was all he said, as they ripped one another’s clothing to the ground, and tumbled into the showers, limbs tangled and tongues everywhere. 

He had G against the tiles and this time, this time, he wasn’t stopping for permission. 

If he’d listened, if he’d taken a few moments out, he may have heard Gerard’s hushed sobs as he entered him.  

But all Frank could hear was the blood pounding in his veins, the sound of the water hitting the tiles and Gerard’s faint, soft moans, when he wrapped his fist around his cock. 

“Fuck, you feel even better than I imagined.” 

Frank was lost in a heated frenzy, pounding G’s ass over and over, eyes rolling to the back of his skull in pure ecstasy. 

He felt G tense around his cock as he came in Frank’s fist, and it was enough to send the older man over the edge. 

Afterwards, Frank left Gerard to clean up. 

He dried and dressed himself. Filled with that euphoric, post-climatic glow, he collapsed into his office chair, completely spent. 

“Hey.”

Gerard appeared in the open doorway, looking awkward and out of place. 

Looking different. 

“C’mere, sexy,” Frank grunted, with a curve of his finger and demanding, glassy eyes. 

Gerard didn’t move from his spot. 

“Can I come over to your place?”

Frank had not been expecting that. 

“It’s not up to your standards.” 

The boy shrugged. “I don’t have any standards.” 

“Sure you do. I know where you come from, I went to school with your parents.” 

Frank hadn’t meant to insult Gerard, it was an offhand comment, an explanation of their difference in living standards. Frank had gone to school with Gerard’s parents, and they were both rich, snooty pricks, who looked down their noses at people like Frank. 

“It’s their money, not mine,” the boy replied sharply, and turned to leave. 

Frank stood. 

“I just meant... my place is a shit hole. You’ll hate it.” 

Gerard paused at the threshold, his back to Frank. 

“I just wanted to hang out with you, not inspect your home.” 

The older man stepped forward and embraced Gerard from behind. 

“Come on then, let’s go.” 

If Frank had any kind of pride or dignity left, he would have felt ashamed of how low he’d fallen. In the past, at the beginning, he did feel shame. But now his shitty apartment, with its meagre square footage and loud, obnoxious neighbours, felt like a sanctuary. Here he could de-mask, he could wallow in his self-pity, he could drink himself into oblivion, and forget all about life for one evening. 

“Told you it’s a shit hole.” 

The boy looked around and shrugged, as though the walls didn’t feel suffocating and the lingering odour of mould didn’t burn his nostrils. 

The night began with watching TV on the sofa, numerous silly comedy programs, and laughing until their sides split. Frank drank beer, and smoked like a chimney, and ran his hands through Gerard’s hair, leaving small kisses whenever he felt the need. 

Gerard begged the older man for a beer, just one, but Frank refused. Gerard needed to stay focused on his sport, and Frank did not want to be the reason for his downfall. 

They moved to the bedroom, Gerard wanted to stay the night. 

“What about your parents?” Frank questioned. 

“I’ll text them and say I’m staying at Ray’s.” 

The cuddling then began and progressed to deep, lingering kisses. 

Frank wanted G again, wanted everything from him, but the boy seemed a little resistant, and it drove Frank wild. 

“Can I tell you something?” Gerard asked, when the kissing had died down. “Promise you won’t be mad?” 

Frank felt sceptical. “I’ll try my best.” 

Gerard was nervous. 

“That was my first time... in the shower.” 

The words sunk slowly into Frank’s brain, and his immediate emotion was amusement- at himself. The whole time he’d been thinking Toro was banging the boy of his dreams, and now he knew that wasn’t true. He felt somewhat smug, that he’d been the one to have Gerard first, and then he checked back in with reality, and glanced down at the anxious boy beside him. 

“I mean, I’ve obviously done things to myself....” Gerard rambled. “It’s not as if I was a virgin in that sense. I’d just never been with an actual guy before.” 

“Fuck. I wish you’d told me.” 

Gerard looked on the edge of full-blown sobbing. 

“I’m sorry!” 

“I’m not mad at you,” Frank laughed, trying to keep the mood light. “I’m just mad at myself for being such a pig. I could have made it real nice for you.” 

“Oh.” 

“I guess I just assumed that you and Toro...” 

“He wants to wait,” Gerard explained. “I don’t know why.” 

“Jesus, I actually feel a little respect for him. I don’t know how he keeps his dick under such control. I’d have you all day, every fucking day.” 

Gerard raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?” 

“Fuck yeah,” Frank grunted, but as the words left his mouth he realised something else. 

“Did I hurt you?” 

Gerard seemed bashful, reluctant to make any eye contact. 

“I’m a little sore.” 

“Fuck.” 

Gerard looked remorseful as he finally met Frank’s gaze. 

“It’s okay, next time we’ll just go a bit slower.” 

“Next time, huh?” Frank asked, with a shit-eating grin. “Baby, next time I’m gonna make you feel fucking incredible.” 

Chapter Text

Chapter four 

Gerard had recently discovered, that he was a man of complexity. One on hand, he loved and adored his boyfriend, and on the other, he wanted Frank in many unspeakable ways. 

Emotions were complex and complicated, and hard to decipher at times. 

He knew deep down, that he should feel the never-ending guilt, gnawing at his insides. 

But the feeling was absent. 

Did that make him a bad person? 

When he lied to Ray about extra practice sessions, but instead lay in bed with Frank, he felt nothing. 

No, that wasn’t true. 

He felt alive. 

And the second time Frank fucked him, his larger body pressing G into the sheets, knees to his chest and arms pinned above his head- Gerard felt more than fucking alive. 

And he’d be the one to initiate it. He’d been the one to show up at Frank’s apartment late one Saturday afternoon, with a cheeky grin, and invite himself inside. 

It had started with heavy kissing, groping hands and low, erotic groans. Frank could barely keep himself in check, throwing Gerard down onto the bed like an object, ready to be used. 

“Want you to fuck me,” Gerard admitted, through laboured breathing and sloppy, heated kisses. 

“Yeah?”

Gerard nodded. 

And then Frank had him on his side, one knee to his chin and his asshole exposed.

“You like it when I touch you here?” Frank asked, breath hot and dense in G’s ear, his fingers lubed and teasing, at the boy’s entrance. 

“Yes.”

When Frank’s fingers entered, Gerard felt the warmth fill his insides, and his whole body became both limp and aroused. 

“You want some more?” 

“Yes.”

Frank took him like that, pressing his way inside, mouth and hands dancing patterns across G’s damp, rosy skin. 

And then G found himself on his back, with his knees to his chest and Frank looming over. It was mere moments before Frank entered him again, this time from a new angle. 

When they both met their end, lost for breath and sweating profusely, they collapsed into one another. Gerard found himself laid on top of Frank, cheek pressed against his chest and limbs weak and saggy. 

They lay like that for a long time, Frank casually smoking with one hand, whilst weaving his other through G’s damp locks. 

Gerard had a lot on his mind, a hell of a lot. There were things he wanted to ask Frank, things he was curious about, but he also feared ruining what they had together- whatever the fuck it was. 

But lying there in Frank’s arms, calmed by the predictable way his large, hair-covered chest, moved up and back down, Gerard began to feel safe and secure. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

It left G’s lips without his permission.

“What?”

“I read online that you were arrested for-“ 

A large grunt interrupted him and the body below moved uncomfortably. 

“You been stalking me online or somethin’?”

G chanced a glance upwards. “I was just curious...”

Frank looked irritated but also amused. 

“They offer a service which I gladly use. So what? I’m not ashamed of that.” 

Gerard rested his chin against Frank’s flesh and maintained eye contact, feeling a little more brave. 

“So, you still use hookers?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” 

G held back a smile. 

“You could use a dating app.” 

The older man’s face crumpled in disgust. 

“For what? I don’t want to date.” 

“What do you want?” G challenged. 

“I wanna fuck, and I don’t want to have to take someone to dinner for it. I don’t need them to talk to me, all I need is for them to open their fucking legs, and shut up.”

“How romantic,” G teased with a smile. “And what about love?” 

Frank scoffed. “What about it?” 

“Have you ever been in love?”

He laughed. “Fuck, no.” 

Gerard couldn’t fathom the idea, that the man below him had never been in love before, with all the years he had under his belt. 

“Why?” 

Frank sat up and G followed suit, taking a seat on his partner's lap. He didn’t want to lose the intimacy between them, especially when the conversation could easily turn sour. 

“Look kid, back when I was in high school, it was different,” Frank explained as he lit up another cigarette. “No one was out of the closet. Being gay was... a death sentence. It wasn’t like it is today,” Frank shrugged, before taking a long, hard drag. 

“And after high school? You must have had partners?”

Frank laughed. “Sure, I’ve had hookups.” 

“No, I mean real, fully-fledged relationships,” G clarified. “Even inside the closet, you must have?”

“No, just hookups.” 

“That’s insane!”

Frank studied the boy carefully. “Not really. I’ve lived in a world where I couldn’t sit on a guy’s knee and make out in front of everyone. Everything was behind closed doors, secret. Especially in football.” 

“You cannot be the only fag in football!” 

Frank laughed again, shaking his head. “Of course not. There’d always be one or two of us, on whatever team I played for. And yeah, I’d be on my knees sucking that guy's dick in the locker room... after everyone else had left. But that was it. No fairytales and no happy endings.” 

Gerard felt more than confused because even if he’d had to remain in the closet, he’d still yearn for someone to share his life with. 

“Have you never wanted a relationship? Have you never longed for company and companionship?” 

“No,” Frank replied, without hesitation. “And really thinking about it, I’m not sure if that’s just my DNA or if I was conditioned into thinking that way,” he pondered, and it was the deepest Gerard had seen him dive. 

“Perhaps, if I’d been able to hold a dude's hand in public, or have a boyfriend without being fucking murdered, things might have been different. But they weren’t.” 

“That’s pretty sad.” 

“I don’t need your pity.” 

“It’s not pity, I just-“

“It is,” Frank abruptly interrupted. “Just because something appeals to you, doesn’t mean I feel the same.” 

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” 

Gerard felt defeated. He rolled off of Frank and lay in the bed beside him, feeling awkward and out of place. 

“Are you in love with Toro?” 

G glanced across at Frank and then back down to his hands, which lay in his lap.  

“Yes.” 

Frank chuckled. “And yet, here you are sitting on my dick. If that’s what you call love, I’m glad I’ve never found it.” 

Gerard remained silent. He knew Frank was right, if he truly loved Ray, he wouldn’t be laid in bed with someone else. 

“I should probably go,” came his eventual response. 

“Have I upset you?” 

G sat up and reached for his underwear that had been discarded on the floor. 

“No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have asked you all of those things, it was too personal.” 

He felt the bed shift behind him, his legs dangling over the edge of the mattress and his pants in his hand. 

Warm lips hit the back of his shoulder, thick fingers sweeping away the hair from his neck, lips working their way towards it. Gerard felt the shiver run down his spine and the goosebumps, as every hair on his body stood to attention. 

“You’re the first person in a long time to show any interest in me.” 

Gerard couldn’t believe that. Frank had once been a world-class athlete, who wouldn’t be interested in him?!

“I find that hard to believe.” 

“It’s true.” 

“Well, that makes me sad. You’re the most interesting person I’ve ever met.” 

“Stay with me.” 

Gerard cast a glance at his watch. “I can’t, I have a date with Ray.” 

He felt dejected, pulling on his clothes in front of the man he’d just quizzed to an inch of his life. Gerard didn’t know what he hoped that interaction would bring, but he didn’t like the taste it left in his mouth. 

Maybe it was the reality of it all hitting him square in the face. He had a boyfriend, a caring, sweet and attentive boyfriend. Yet here he stood, desperate for the attention of a man who was more than twice his age. A man who had led a lonely, empty sort of life, with no love or compassion. Frank was a bitter, twisted, shape of a thing, that Gerard just couldn’t quite put his finger on. An itch to scratch until his flesh gave way and blood oozed to the surface. 

“How will you spend your evening?” 

Frank laid back on the bed, spreading his arms wide and stretching. 

“At the bar, there’s a game on tonight.” 

---

Gerard tried his uttermost to be present with Ray, but his mind swirled and his chest felt tight. He couldn’t stop thinking about Frank, even when they were making out. 

His radio was tuned into Frank’s station, and that’s all he listened to. 

Even with his legs wrapped around his boyfriend, mouths joined and hearts racing, G’s imagination was elsewhere. 

“Baby, baby,” he panted through kisses. “Fuck me, please.”

Ray broke contact, wrenching his lips away, his hands firm on Gerard’s waist. 

“G, we talked about this-“ 

“I know, I know. I just want you, so bad,” Gerard whined, as he tried to reconnect their lips. “Just please, I need you. I want you inside of me.” 

“Gerard, stop. What the hell has gotten into you? You’re acting like a different person lately.” 

“No, I’m not. Don’t you want me or something? Do you not find me attractive anymore?”

“Of course I do.” 

Ray's statement was followed by his hand, which took hold of Gerard’s, and directed it to his crotch, pressing firmly against his restricted erection. 

“See? I am so fucking attracted to you. I want you, just as much as you want me.” 

“Then why can’t we-“

“We talked about this. We agreed that we would wait, to not rush into things.” 

Gerard removed his hand from Ray’s lap and slung his arms across his chest. 

“We’ve been together for two fucking years, Ray. We’re not rushing anything, we’re barely crawling!” 

It was a moment or two before Ray replied and his answer felt solemn and touched with anger. 

“I’m not ready, Gerard. And I don’t appreciate you trying to pressure me into it, either.” He took a deep breath. “I think you should leave.” 

“What-“

“Please, just go.” 

Gerard’s world spun on its axis, thoughts and feelings muddled, emotions highly charged. 

He always stayed over at Ray’s on Saturday nights, always. 

But he had no energy to fight because he knew deep down that Ray was right. Gerard had become more sexually charged, seeking it more and more, consumed by it. 

He wanted to be fucked, he wanted to be desirable, and he wanted his boyfriend to pin him to the sheets and nail his ass. 

It was no wonder that Gerard sought comfort elsewhere, the comfort he could get so easily from someone else. 

Not that it justified his actions. 

Gerard felt at a crossroads in his life. On one side he had Ray and his track career, which felt stable and predictable. On the other, Frank, and the ever-looming knowledge that he’d be off to college soon. He’d be off someplace new, mixing with different people and trying to figure out his life outside of track. 

The anxiety of the unknown clawed its way up Gerard’s throat, making him feel panicky and nauseous. 

So he pushed it down and concentrated on the other unstable, chaotic part of his life, which was Frank.  Because through the chaos and instability, Gerard found a small pocket of escapism, that he often only felt whilst running. 

And so, it was self-pity and the desire for escape, which directed his feet back to Frank’s apartment. Gerard didn’t want to be alone, and he certainly didn’t want to go home to his parent's questions. 

He wept as he took a seat on the top step of the stairwell, just meters away from Frank’s apartment door. Gerard wasn’t sure what time the older man would stagger home, but he hoped it would be alone and seeking company. 

He waited, sobbing and miserable, constantly checking his phone, hoping for some contact from Ray. Gerard didn’t bother trying to communicate with Frank, he thought it best just to appear, less chance of being refused. 

He’d already received one rejection that night, he couldn’t take another. 

But the minutes dragged into hours until it was past midnight and Gerard’s swollen lids began to fall. 

“The fuck?”

Frank had returned home. 

“Hey.” 

“You been crying?”

He was in a drunken stupor, bracing himself against the stairwell wall, eyes glazed as they peered up at G. 

“Can I stay with you tonight?” 

Frank’s eyes rolled so far into the back of his head that G worried he might actually pass the fuck out. 

“Thought you were hanging out with the love of your life?”

Frank used air quotes on the last part and G cringed internally. 

“We had a fight.” 

Frank heaved a sigh and pressed a heavy palm to his moist forehead. 

“Kid, I am way too drunk for this.” 

Gerard wasn’t in the mood for any more disappointment. He escorted the intoxicated man into the apartment and locked the door. 

Frank passed out in bed, snoring and muttering in his sleep. He hadn’t been lying, he was utterly wasted. 

Gerard had sought company and a compassionate shoulder to lean on, and Frank had been the wrong person to choose. 

Gerard didn’t crawl into bed next to Frank, instead, he collapsed on the sofa and watched re-runs of Friends until he fell into his own troubled slumber. 

It was early in the morning when he was awoken by a heavy hand caressing his cheek. Frank crouched in front of him, eyes red and bloodshot, hair tangled and pushed off of his forehead. 

“Baby, come to bed.” 

Still half asleep, he felt the sensation of being lifted by strong arms, which cradled his body and held him securely. 

Gerard nuzzled his drowsy face into Frank’s bare chest, taking deep breaths, inhaling that glorious, masculine scent. 

They wound themselves together in a tight embrace, comforting one another physically and mentally, until the sun rose and a new day began. 

Chapter Text

Chapter five 

Frank was obsessed with Gerard, and he wasn’t afraid to admit that to himself. He revelled in the knowledge that G's perfect relationship was falling to pieces, even though he knew that he’d never have a future with Gerard. 

He despised Toro beyond words, beyond the capacity of emotions. 

He despised him because... well, because he had Gerard. 

But it was more than that, it was a deep-seated loathing of the freedom of youth. Toro had his entire life ahead of him, he’d barely started on his journey. Frank, on the other hand, he’d rode that train almost to completion. 

He had regrets, a lot of them. Pain and loneliness ate at his soul. He felt depleted, discarded and forgotten most days. 

It was a life he’d settled into and had been content with, he’d accepted his fate, his punishment for all of his wrongdoings...

That was until Gerard came into his life. 

Now, his days were filled with bitter resentment because his path was set, and he couldn’t alter or change it. He couldn’t slip into Toro’s body and inhabit it, using him as a vessel to achieve greatness. 

Life wasn’t a fantasy or a sci-fi movie you find on TV late at night. He couldn’t have a do-over, he couldn’t start from zero and change his stars. 

Gerard was a reminder of that. Gerard was everything Frank wanted but could never truly have. 

And when G questioned him about his past relationships, it was another stark revelation of how different they both were. 

It was true, Frank had never wanted a relationship. But perhaps it was because he’d never met the right person before... 

He’d cringed at gay couples ‘getting married’ and teased past friends about their relationships. 

It was no wonder he was utterly alone in the world. He’d been a terrible person for pretty much all of his existence. And that fact had never bothered him before. 

But now, now he wanted Gerard to see him as something quite different. He wanted to be a better person... at least at surface level. 

He couldn’t bear for G to see him the way the rest of the world did. And right at that moment, Gerard looked up to him and was fascinated by him. Frank hadn’t felt that desirable and interesting in a long, long time. 

So yeah, he hated Toro. But he could feel Gerard slipping to the dark side, to his side, and he felt pretty smug about that. 

Especially when Gerard lay in his bed, ass in the air and face smothered in the sheets. Frank got off on eating Gerard to an inch of his life, penetrating him with tongue and fingers, stimulating his prostate until Gerard begged to be fucked. 

Toro may have the gift of youth, but Frank had the gift of experience. He could make Gerard’s toes curl and body convulse in ways Toro could only dream of. 

And though Toro had the relationship, Frank had all of Gerard’s firsts. His first fuck, his first rim job, his first finger fuck, his first throat fuck, and his first middle-of-the-night, wake-up fuck. 

By all accounts, Toro had been very gentle with Gerard. There’d been hand jobs, dry humping and pathetic, little, blow jobs, alongside heavy make-out sessions. But that was it. 

And it was nothing. 

It was nothing compared to what Frank had given him, and he found some comfort in that. 

------

“Hey, am I okay to use the track for practice today?” 

“Yeah, sure. What happened to the new coach?” 

Gerard grinned flirtatiously. 

“He’s on holiday for two weeks, so I thought I’d use these facilities while he’s gone.” 

Frank gave a nod and looked past the boy, through the office windows and into the changing room. It was filled with jocks, half-naked, slamming lockers shut whilst laughing and joking boisterously. 

“Just make sure you stop by for a shower once you’re done.” 

Gerard’s eyes lit from within. 

“Yes, sir...” 

Frank’s eyes met his. “Go.” 

The quicker Gerard ran that track, the sooner they could be naked, wrapped in one another, under the relaxing flow of the hot water. 

Frank hadn’t had much time with Gerard in the weeks that had passed. Unfortunately, Toro had wormed his way back into Gerard’s good graces, or maybe it was the other way around. Frank didn’t care. He was just pissed that they were back on and very much in love. 

It made him sick to his stomach. 

Frank couldn’t help but pounce on G the second they were alone, kissing, biting and sucking every piece of skin he could find. 

“I missed this,” Gerard sighed into his lips. “I missed you.”

Frank pulled back. “Yeah? Where’ve you been?” 

Frank knew exactly where Gerard had been, and who with. He just clung to the hope that Toro hadn’t fucked him yet. Frank wanted to be the only one, he needed to be the only one. 

“I’m sorry,” G sighed as his back hit the cool tiles, Frank’s larger body pinning him. “I’ve just been trying to work things out with Ray.” 

“Why?”

Gerard frowned. “Because he’s my boyfriend.” 

“Yeah? And what the fuck am I?”

They were still in the changing rooms, still clothed and far from where Frank wanted them to be. But an anger that had been simmering inside of him began to boil, bubble, and spill over. 

Frank had been there for G when Ray had rejected him. He’d been the one to give Gerard exactly what he wanted. 

He would not be pushed aside. 

“I don’t know what this is,” Gerard admitted, cautiously. “I just know that I can’t stop thinking about you...”

Frank took his mouth passionately and then pulled away. 

“Has he fucked you?” 

Gerard laughed. “Is that what you’re worried about? No, he hasn’t. All we’ve done is talk things through.” 

“So, you talk feelings with him and then come to me for what you really want, huh?” 

“Am I that obvious?”

Frank remained quiet. 

“I think about you when he kisses me, I think about you when we’re rolling around in the sheets, and when he presses his erection against mine... I imagine you’re on top of me.” 

“Is that true?” 

“You know me in a way that no one ever has,” Gerard continued. “You read my mind without me having to beg for what I want. You make me feel like another part of you.” 

Frank wasn’t sure how much of that was bullshit, spare of the moment, rubbish, that gets spewed out when in the heat of things. But Gerard was right about one thing, Frank did know him in a way that no one else did. Frank had seen him in multiple ways, multiple angles, and witnessed a collection of Gerard’s expressions as he reached orgasm. 

Frank’s head was awash with lust, obsession and desire. 

“Frank, are you still with me?”

He felt Gerard’s delicate hands on his cheeks and realised he’d drifted for a moment or two, lost in his thoughts. 

“Did I say something wrong?”

Frank shook his head. “No, I was just... dazed over how fucking good you smell.” 

Gerard giggled and the mood lifted. 

Frank removed Gerard’s t-shirt, pressing it to his face and taking a deep breath before tossing it to the ground. He sunk to his knees, slowly, purposefully, running his lips and tongue, and nose downwards. He lapped up every bead of sweat, every ounce of perspiration. 

If there could be a heaven for Frank, this would be it. 

He buried his face into Gerard’s shorts, tugging them down so painfully slow. He wanted this to last, he needed it to. 

Burying his nose, and his lips, in Gerard’s pubic hair, Frank’s cock throbbed and ached in the confines of his pants. 

“Fuck.”

The whimper, which barely formed into words, left Gerard's lips and echoed in the vacant changing rooms. 

Frank spun him on his heel and lapped up the sweat from his lower back, which pooled in the dimples above his ass cheeks. He gnawed on those firm, rounded cheeks and spanked them, hard. 

There was nothing else for it, nothing else he could do at that moment but take his own cock from his pants, and stroke himself, whilst he buried his tongue between G’s spread glutes. 

“Oh, my fucking Jesus.”

Frank was blissful and erect, with his brain switched off and his body turned on. 

With one hand fisting Gerard’s ass cheek and the other around his painful cock, he multi-tasked, every sense he had on fire, ignited, blazing. 

“Frank-“

“Put your hands on the wall where I can see them.” 

Frank wanted to be the one to make Gerard cum, but first, he had to take care of himself. 

And so, he made the boy wait in desperation, whilst he jacked himself and ran his tongue over all the places he’d dreamed of. He came with a hefty grunt and bit deeply into the peachy flesh of Gs ass cheek. 

“Fuck.”

With heavy breath and shaky hands, he turned the boy again, and this time took his painful, swollen erection, into his mouth. 

It was over before it had even really begun because Gerard had been teetering on the edge of his orgasm for some time. 

After filling Frank’s mouth, the boy sunk to his knees and they fell into fits of laughter and sloppy, affectionate kisses. 

“You wanna come home with me?” 

Gerard, ever playing that coy, mischievous card, grinned. “Well, I was supposed to be meeting Ray, but... I’ll cancel.” 

“Cancel on Prince Charming, just for me?” Frank teased. “I’m flattered.”

The boy pushed at Frank’s shoulder playfully. 

“Can I stay over?”

“Of course.” 

---

Frank was obsessed and he knew it was unhealthy. He tried to play it down, to act nonchalant about this thing between them. But inside, inside he was screaming. 

He was obsessed. 

Especially when Gerard asked to spend the night, which happened more often than not. And though at first, it had felt odd to share his space with another person, Frank had grown fond of it. He found himself missing the constant, silly chatter, and the weight of another human in his bed, whenever G was not around. 

It wasn’t just the sex- which was amazing, by the way. Frank could write verses on how exemplary the sex was. 

They bonded. They spoke for hours on sports, training and nutrition. Frank opened up, spilling his life story, his determination for glory and the downside of it all. He wanted Gerard to have a realistic view of the competitive sporting world, and was happy to share tips and recommendations, stories and counselling. 

He felt important. 

He felt seen. 

He felt alive for the first time in a long time. 

----

“How’d training go today?”

The boy shrugged. 

“My time sucks at the moment. I can’t work out what I’m doing wrong.” 

“How’s your mental health?”

“Fine.” 

Frank paused and ran his hand across Gerard’s cheek. They were sitting face to face, the boy in Frank’s lap and their faces mere inches apart. 

“Talk to me.” 

Gerard shrugged again, a new habit he’d picked up lately. 

“I guess I just feel as though I’m juggling too many things at the moment. I can’t even escape on the track like I used to.” 

Frank took a breath. 

“If this,” he said, as he gestured between their bodies. “Is too much for you, we could-“

A single finger from Gerard silenced him. 

“Please, don’t finish that sentence.” 

G removed his finger from Frank’s closed lips. 

“Right now, this is the only place I feel I can relax. Being with you, this... this is where I want to be.” 

“On my lap in my gross apartment?” Frank joked, trying to lighten the mood a little. 

“With you.” 

Frank was thankful for that reply, and though he tried to remain calm and collected, his heart beat a little too quickly, and his stomach flipped with anxiety. 

He didn’t want to be a ball that Gerard dropped. 

“I think... god, I feel awful saying this. I think I’ve outgrown Ray...” 

“That’s understandable.” 

“He’s so sweet and kind, and an amazing influence on me, but I... I want more than that.” 

Frank nodded. 

“But, we’ve also planned our futures together,” Gerard admitted. “We’re going to the same college... fuck.”

Frank could see the frustration on the boy’s face, in his mannerisms and his tone of voice. 

“Do you want my opinion?” He asked gently. “My unbiased opinion,” he corrected. 

“Yes.” 

“I think that you should forget all of this other shit and focus on your sport. You can’t make it from just pure talent alone, you need determination and dedication. You need to clear your thoughts, so that the only thing that matters is running, and running alone. You wanna be the best? You wanna win an Olympic medal? Then you need to choose track above everything else in your life. I know it’s hard, I’ve been there. But what you need to remember, is that boys will come and go, but your career is something you build, something constant and important.” 

Gerard listened and nodded along, digesting the advice of his superior. 

“You’re right. You’re so right. Thank you, I needed that.” 

They didn’t speak of it again for the rest of the night, or the night after, or the night after that. But Frank thought deeply upon it, brooding with his conflicting opinions and judgements. 

Sport was his number one passion, and he knew the ups and downs of that career path. He’d learned hard truths in his time, he’d fallen and risen, and fallen again. 

Frank wanted what was best for Gerard, and yet, he also wanted what was best for himself... 

And that was Gerard, naked, and being fucked to an inch of his life. 

Chapter Text

Chapter six 

“I think... I think we should have some time apart.” 

Gerard felt appalling admitting that to the boy across from him. He’d practised it in the mirror, rehearsing how he’d say it, the tone, and the expressions on his face. 

But who could really prepare for hurting someone you cared deeply about? 

In the end, Gerard was doing him a kindness, because he’d been anything but loving and faithful. Ray didn’t deserve to be treated so poorly. 

“I’ve been thinking the same.”

Oh. 

Maybe it wasn’t a kindness, maybe Gerard had been reading the room and was the first one to act upon it. 

“We both seem to be on different tracks at the moment. I think, maybe, it’s best we just separate and focus on ourselves, for now.” 

Gerard hadn’t expected any of that, and it took him aback and left him speechless. 

“G?” 

“Oh, yeah. I was thinking the same.” 

He hadn’t been thinking the same, though. He’d been beating himself up over how terrible he was, how he’d break Ray’s heart, how crushing it all would be.

And now, now he felt... perplexed? Dissatisfied? Jilted? 

He wasn’t sure. He couldn’t quite fathom his emotions or understand them fully. 

Had Ray fallen out of love with him? And was he a lousy person for wanting that love, after all the secrets and infidelities?

The only thing he felt certain of, was that the mood change would undoubtedly fuck up his game head.

But he couldn’t let it. 

He had to focus on what he had, and that no longer included Ray. 

---

“What are you doing this weekend?” 

G sat in Frank’s lap, on the ancient chair in his office. They were alone, changing rooms locked, and school almost empty. 

“Training and not much else.” 

“Would you have any spare time to catch a game with me?” 

Gerard tilted his head to one side, his brain working overtime on the question. 

“A real game? Outside?”

Frank shrugged. “Yeah, why not?” 

G was stumped, perplexed and yet, elated. 

“You’d take me to a football game with you?” Gerard asked shyly, wanting to make sure he had the right end of the stick. 

“I mean, yeah? I did just ask you,” Frank laughed. 

“What if someone sees us together?” 

“They won’t, it will be busy. Plus, you could pass for my son,” Frank explained, casually. 

G rolled his eyes in amusement. “You don’t have a son.” 

“The general public doesn’t know that. The average, hill-billy fucking Joe sat next to us, won’t know.”

“I guess.” 

“You guess? Is that a yes?” 

“It’s a yes.” 

----

The date was sweet, yet, short-lived. They watched the game, ate hot dogs and enjoyed one another’s company. 

For a moment, for a split second, Gerard felt like that could be them, in that little bubble, for all time. 

But life commitments began causing distance and Gerard still, still, felt unsatisfied with the temporary separation from Ray. 

Was it temporary? Or had Ray moved on and cleared Gerard from his browsing history for good?

Frank became despondent and resentful as Gerard pulled away, and it made him less eager to spend time with the older man. 

Gerard had feelings, that was for sure. Gerard had such big feelings, that it overwhelmed him. He had feelings for Frank and Ray. He had feelings about his future and the direction it was currently going in. 

But he had to focus, because running track was his ticket out of that shit-hole town. Running was his future and the only thing that never let him down, or held him back. 

Frank understood that. Frank had pushed him to focus on his craft. Yet, he still moped around and acted like the jilted lover, each time Gerard was unavailable to him. 

Gerard couldn’t blame him, though. Gerard sometimes lied and faked training sessions, so that he could hide from the world and hide from his own feelings. 

Being around Frank was intense, and the time when they would be parted forever, was looming. 

Gerard didn’t want to become too attached, he didn’t want to feel the pain of a broken heart. It was better to cut it at the stem than let it grow any further. 

Funny. 

The only person he wasn’t fooling was himself. 

He could lie to them all, but inside his feelings were deep and real. 

But it was pointless to even admit that to anyone, especially Frank. 

Frank didn’t love anyone, he didn’t even love himself. 

They’d had many conversations about Frank’s dating history, or the lack of it. It was more of a little-black-book, filled with all of the guys he’d sucked and fucked. 

Why would Gerard embarrass himself, by admitting feelings to someone like Frank? 

He was young and naive, and full of silly notions of love and happily ever afters.

Frank wasn’t his Prince Charming, he wasn’t even the last pick of the bunch. He was the drunkard in the tavern that you kept away from, the one with the wandering eye and zero morals. 

Ray was a Prince Charming type, and yet so lacklustre, and dull at times. 

Admitting feelings to either of them seemed foolish. 

So Gerard remained in his own lane and watched the months tick by, as he crossed off days on the calendar....

One by one, by one... 

Until graduation loomed in the distance. 

Chapter Text

Chapter seven 

The volume of alcohol that Frank consumed had been increasing, as the time he spent with Gerard decreased. He knew there was a correlation between the two, he just chose to ignore it. 

Gerard was busy, he was working hard, striving for the dream he had. Frank knew that it was important, that it was everything. Frank had once felt that way, too. Football had been his only goal, and it had shaped his narrow view of the world. 

So, Frank held back his selfish thoughts, held back the things he wanted to say, and restrained himself. 

Because in the end, it was pointless holding onto something that was never his in the first place. 

He focused on his job, on the team, on the tight holes of many, many hookers. 

He was fine. 

Frank was fine. 

He had more time to check out all the bodies in the locker room, because he had less time with G, and less time to obsess over him. 

---

“Damn, my shoulder is fucked.” 

The locker room had emptied after practice, and Frank had been collecting his things together when he heard it. 

Vic Fuentes, was one of the smaller guys on the team, but still had that muscular shape, that had Frank all kinds of sweaty. 

With his long, dark hair and gorgeous brown eyes, Frank had always felt an attraction to him. 

“What’s up with your shoulder?”

Vic appeared sheepishly from behind his locker. 

“I must have pulled a muscle or something, I dunno.” 

“Want me to take a look?” 

Frank had given a lot of sports massages in his time, it was a common need when ramming into guys every other day. He wouldn’t declare himself an expert or anything of the sort, but he knew he was good with his hands, and could help to ease aches and pains when needed. 

“Yeah, that would be great.”

Vic sat on the bench, his bare back to Frank and his pants low around his waist. Frank knew he hadn’t showered, he could smell it. 

Vic tended to be more reserved than the rest of the team. He didn’t walk around nude or take many showers with the guys, opting to shower at home in privacy. 

Frank understood it could be intimidating being naked in front of a crowd of guys, anyone would feel self-conscious. 

But it also meant, that Frank had only seen his dick a handful of times, and that drove him wild. 

He placed his hands on Vic’s tanned skin and began at the tops of his shoulders, working his way downwards and around the scapular, thumbing the curve of the bone, and kneading into the flesh. 

Frank could feel the gristle, the knots of tension, and he worked them until Vic’s head sunk lower and lower, chin almost touching his chest. 

“Fuck, that feels so good.” 

Frank held back a smile because yeah, he fucking knew it felt good. Almost as good as the thrill Frank got, from being this close to a guy, that smelt so fucking good. 

“Do you have any cream or oil? I think that would help.” 

Frank paused. 

“Yeah, I’ve got some heat rub in my office.” 

He left and rummaged through his desk for the cream. When he returned, Vic was sat on the bench facing him, with a coy smile. 

Frank would have had to be blind, to miss the boner, straining against the material of Vic’s pants. 

He stopped, motionless and fucking disturbed. 

In what world, was Frank Iero attractive to anyone? Especially hot, young guys, who could fuck anyone they wanted. 

“This err- fuck.”

He was lost for fucking words. 

“Sorry, it just felt really good.” 

He didn’t look sorry, he looked like the tastiest fucking meal, that Frank wished to devour. 

“Right.” 

Luckily for Frank, his pants were baggy enough to hide his erection. 

“I hope I haven’t made you feel uncomfortable.” 

Frank toyed with the tube in his hands. 

“It’s inappropriate, but I understand. Massage can feel... intimate and arousing.” 

“It also doesn’t help that I admire you, a hell of a lot.” 

“You do?”

Vic smiled. 

“Of course! The world of football can be a fucked up place for guys like us. But you really made it!” 

Frank scoffed. 

‘Guys like us’ 

He knew what it meant. 

“Yeah, somehow I don’t think that is true. It’s sweet of you to say it, though.” 

Vic frowned. 

“Coach, you made it! You’re an inspiration to me.” 

Frank really didn’t know what to say. His afternoon had been turned on a weird angle and he felt disorientated and confused. 

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel uncomfortable. I dunno, I just, I thought we had a moment there when you were massaging me,” Vic explained. “And I think you’re pretty hot, but yeah, sorry...” 

Maybe it was the mood that Frank had been in recently, or the excessive alcohol consumption, or just the sheer lack of concern for himself or his own wellbeing. 

It could have been all of the above, that motivated his legs to move and pause in front of the embarrassed player. 

But it really didn’t matter, because he made the choice and ran with it, to hell with the consequences. 

Vic’s face was in line with Frank’s crotch, and in one swift movement, Frank wrapped his hand around the back of Vic’s neck and pulled him forward. 

What subsequently proceeded to happen, seemed to mimic some of Frank’s obscene fantasies. 

They began in his office, with the door locked and Frank’s mouth everywhere. 

He fell to his knees but took the time to bury his face into every bump and crevice on the way down. 

Vic smelt like a fucking wet dream, and oh, how Frank loved to be on his knees for a jock. 

Mouthful of cock, he revelled in the act, pressing his nose to Vic’s pubic hair, whilst he deep-throated with zero gag reflex. 

He’d done it a million times, sucked a million dicks, and it never got old or lost its appeal. 

Vic came in his mouth, with his hands running patterns through Frank’s dark hair, and lips trembling and glistening with saliva. 

Frank didn’t want it to end, and so he stood and took the boy's mouth with greed. They made out heavily, Vic spinning from his orgasm and Frank about to burst in his pants. 

He pushed the jock down, down onto his knees and fucked his open, eager mouth. 

It didn’t take long and it didn’t take much. Frank came before he wished to, with a deep groan and a curse into his fist. 

They dressed and they kissed. Vic’s arms seemed to wind their way around Frank’s shoulders and his hands into the back of Frank’s hair. 

Spent, they broke apart and with a turn of the lock, the real world was revealed to them...

In the form of Gerard, sitting on the bench with hard, teary eyes. 

“Uh, thanks for the tips, coach,” Vic muttered, trying to disguise the situation. 

But Gerard looked at Frank with cold, unfeeling eyes, and didn’t say a word, as Vic scrambled to pull on the rest of his clothes and pack up his bag. 

Frank leant his shoulder against the doorframe of his office, arms folded defensively across his chest, and kept his eyes on Gerard, ignoring the hastily way that Vic threw his things together. 

“See you tomorrow, Coach!” He called as he left. 

And then there was just the two of them, staring each other down, waiting for someone to draw the gun. 

“Fuck you.”

“Gerard-“

He left before Frank could finish his sentence. 

It wasn’t lost on Frank, that he was lucky it was Gerard who had caught them. Lucky, because anyone else would have cost him his job. Unlucky because, well, it was Gerard. 

And in the weeks that followed, Frank saw little to nothing of the boy, that once haunted his every waking thought. 

Not for lack of trying on Frank’s part. 

He’d sent text messages, called and left voicemails, but Gerard did not want to be contacted. 

It was even impossible to find any time alone with him at school, and Gerard avoided him like the plague. 

Frank should have felt glad that it had finally concluded, so that he didn’t have to feel the heartbreak of Gerard leaving for college. 

But all he felt was the vast emptiness of a lonely life, and no hooker with a slight likeness to G, or a full bottle of vodka, could rid him of it. 

And all he began to feel was hatred, for himself, for Gerard, and his entire, pitiful life. 

Chapter Text

Chapter eight

Frank had sunk into a pit of self-loathing, and it was unlike anything he’d previously experienced. 

And that was saying something. 

Because Frank had lived the worst days of his life, and yet, being shunned by Gerard, felt just as painful as losing his football career. 

But he also felt fucking enraged.

They were not in a relationship, there were no set rules or boundaries. Gerard had been dating Ray for a large chunk of time, doing god-knows-what, with that curly-haired, mother fucker.

And now Frank was the bad guy, Frank was the cheater, Frank was the one in the dog house. 

And that boiled his fucking piss. 

So, he stuck his dick in every pretty face he could pay for and tried to ignore his emotions. And it worked, for a little while. 

Vic was... tempting, for sure. 

But Frank made it clear, that nothing else would happen there. 

Fucking students was messy. 

Frank didn’t need any more chaos in his life. 

And, just when he’d given up hope of any reconciliation with Gerard, the boy appeared at his front door. 

It was late, pushing midnight on a Saturday, and Gerard stood at the threshold of his apartment, asking to be granted entrance. 

And Frank obliged. 

The door closing behind the boy was the only sound to be heard. They stood facing one another in the small hallway, eyes fixed and jaws tight. 

“So, what number am I?”

The question hung between them, just like Frank’s confusion. 

“Number?” 

It was dark, but Frank could still make out the tears that pooled in Gerard’s eyes. 

“I don’t understand.” 

“I can’t be the first student you’ve fucked, so what number am I?” Gerard accused, his voice sour and ugly. 

Frank leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms defensively over his broad chest. 

He could smell the alcohol on Gerard, and he wasn’t amused. Frank didn’t want that life for G, the life that he had carved out for himself. Gerard deserved better. 

“Is that really what you think of me?” He challenged. 

“Just answer the question!”

“One.” 

Gerard scoffed at his answer, and it burnt Frank’s insides with rage. 

“I don’t believe you!” Gerard all but wailed, his voice broken and his mind clouded. 

“Then don’t,” Frank answered. “Don’t fucking believe me. That’s your choice.”

He left the hallway and collapsed back down onto his sofa, beer in hand. At rock bottom, Frank had no will left in him to fight Gerard’s accusations, or fight for the boy he cared so deeply for. 

And he’d expected Gerard to leave, to walk out and never return. To leave Frank, like the piece of trash that he was. 

But Gerard took a seat beside him, and bore his eyes into Frank’s skull, until Frank finally yielded, and returned the gaze. 

“You’ve only been with me?” Gerard asked, his voice wavering. 

“You’re the only one,” Frank clarified. 

“And Vic?”

“Was a mistake.” 

Frank tried to show his sincerity in his tone, but the alcohol slurred his words a little.  

“He came onto me, and I made the wrong decision. I’m sorry that I hurt you, truly.” 

Gerard remained silent, his eyes glazed, his mind very far from sober. 

“I came onto you,” he eventually spoke, cutting through the stillness, that had settled between them. 

“Was I a wrong decision, too?” 

“No.” 

That was the only answer Frank could give, and it was his gut response. 

He knew, deep down, that starting an intimate relationship with Gerard was wrong, on so many levels. 

But, he also knew how he felt about Gerard. Gerard had awoken something inside of him, deep down in the very pits of Frank’s soul. Frank yearned to be a better person because of Gerard. 

And that was a positive. 

“I’ve missed you,” Frank admitted, letting his guard down for a fraction of a second. 

“I missed you, too.” 

No other words passed between them. Frank took the boy into a warm embrace and they remained there, both exhausted and far from sober. 

After a short period, they instinctively fell asleep, Gerard nuzzled into Frank’s chest.

And when the older of the two woke in the night, he carried the younger to bed. 

Frank was aware, of how little time he had left with Gerard. So, he made the most of it, and spent some of the early hours, tracing the softness of Gerard’s features. 

His fingers, featherlight, barely touching the surface, danced across the boy's jawline, over his cheeks and down to the tip of his nose. 

Frank had never been so enamoured by another human being. 

He had never been sentimental or romantic. He’d never been touched with the softness, that came so easily to others. And yet, spending time with Gerard had opened up an emotional vulnerability in Frank, one he’d never known existed. 

One he would soon shut down. 

Because Gerard’s absence would cut deeply, like an infinite gorge he could never fill. 

And that terrified Frank. 

He’d never been in love, and he wasn’t certain that this was love. It could have been infatuation, obsession or even limerence. 

Gerard had never expressed any strong feelings towards Frank. Begging to be fucked, was another thing entirely. And, Frank wasn’t mentally strong enough to hear, that he was anything less than everything, to Gerard. 

He fell asleep on those restless thoughts, tossing and turning, and living nightmares in his head. 

When he awoke, groggy and dehydrated, Gerard was perched next to him. He lay on his side, one bent elbow keeping his head secure, his other hand tracing the tattooed skin on Frank’s chest. 

They were so close, that Frank could feel the boy's heartbeat, slow and steady. 

“Hey gorgeous,” Gerard greeted, eyes flickering upwards and meeting the opposite pair. 

Frank’s brain hadn’t had time to comprehend being awake yet, let alone the compliment that came confidently from Gerard’s lips. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey.” 

“You’re still here.” 

Gerard smiled. “I’m still here.” 

“Wasn’t sure if you’d stay.” 

Gerard wiggled upwards and took Frank’s mouth in a surprising, and yet welcome, kiss. 

And it quickly escalated. 

Gerard’s fist round his cock, and then his mouth, and then his ass. His tight, warm, perfect ass. 

Frank laid in absolute bliss as Gerard rode him, harder than he ever had before. 

It was aggressive, and Frank enjoyed every, fucking, second of it. 

The sound of their skin slapping together, Gerard’s soft, erotic moans, and the way his nails dug deeply, into Frank’s skin. 

Frank wanted nothing more than to fill that boy full of cum. Over and over, and over. 

-

“I wish you were my coach.” 

Frank’s head still spun, his orgasm leaving his mind delirious. 

“Hm? You’d have to switch to football.” 

He reached over and grabbed a cigarette from his bedside table. 

“I got no experience with track.” 

“You could learn.”

Frank cast him a dubious look. 

“I’m a bit old for that shit.” 

Gerard rest his head on Frank’s chest. 

“If you were my coach, we could travel the world together.” 

It was a sentimental idea, and one Frank had no time for. There was no use in wishing on a fantasy. It just wasn’t reality, and it was exhausting and depressing, to even think about. 

“It’s not gonna happen, kid.” 

Gerard closed his eyes. 

“I know.” 

Frank felt a swell of remorse. 

“Baby, you’re gonna have a great life. It hasn’t even started yet.” 

---

And so, Gerard graduated. 

But not before spending every second he could, with Frank. And that included prom, which he ditched, and celebrated by riding Frank’s dick, into another fucking universe. 

“I’ll be back for the holidays.” 

“Okay.” 

“I mean it. You won’t have a chance to forget about me, I’ll come home as much as I can.” 

“Baby,” Frank hushed. 

He knew it was futile to disagree. And in their last moments together, he didn’t want to argue. 

“I won’t forget about you. But don’t spend so much time looking back, that you forget to look forward.” 

And then, Gerard left for college. 

And Frank was utterly devastated. 

Chapter Text

Chapter nine 

Gerard ended his speech with little enthusiasm from the audience. He couldn’t blame them, though. He’d once sat in the same seats, with the same bored expression, waiting to be freed from the torturous hell, of school assemblies. 

It didn’t matter to the crowd of seniors before him, that Gerard had participated in two Olympic teams. It didn’t matter to them, that Gerard had won gold and silver medals, and much more beyond that. All they cared about, was the final bell at the end of the day. 

Gerard could empathise. 

He’d once longed for that bell, also. Especially when it meant he could run track, and then fuck in the showers after. 

He glanced over at the once familiar man, who propped himself up against the brick wall of the hall. Even at twenty-nine years old, and married, Gerard felt the thrill of electricity run down his spine, as their eyes met. 

It had been a long, long time. 

-

“Congratulations, Gerard. We all knew you’d go far!” 

Mrs Burke, Gerard’s old Math teacher, shook his hand fiercely. She still wore the same toxic perfume, that choked Gerard in the same way, as it always had. 

“Thank you.” 

The students had filed out, their footsteps hurried, desperate to be free. And now, Gerard was left with his old teachers and tutors, all kissing his ass and making his stomach feel queasy. 

He’d never much liked them as an adolescent, and eleven years later, he felt almost the same. 

“Congrats.”

Gerard paused his thoughts because Coach Iero took his hand, with a firm grip and piercing eyes, making Gerard’s knees weak and unstable. 

“T-Thanks, Coach.” 

Frank gave him a swift nod and retreated, back to the locker room, Gerard supposed.  

He was given a long and arduous tour of the school, as if he hadn’t once been a student, trapped between those walls. 

He was shown the new science lab, and the new sports facilities, and introduced to students, who were looking to excel in athletics. 

It was all very cordial and boring. And Gerard couldn’t help but let his mind wander, down the halls and towards the locker room. 

He’d participated in a lot of school visits. It was encouraged by his team, his coach and his sponsors. And it was fine, it was okay, he didn’t mind too much. It was just terribly dull. 

So dull, that when the day ended, Gerard almost fell to his knees and cried in relief. 

The school was empty, the kids had fled home.

And once the job was finished, Gerard could leave. 

But, he found himself taking a short detour, to the only place he wished to be. 

-

“Hey, Coach, mind if I use the track?” 

Gerard tried to sound youthful and sweet, as he leant against the doorframe of Frank’s office. 

He sounded and appeared confident, but inside he was trembling. 

Frank looked up, perplexed at first and then... amused?

He turned in his swivel chair, his shoulders flat against the back, relaxed and unmoved by Gerard’s sudden appearance. 

“Sure, go for it.” 

Of course, Gerard had been fooling around. He didn’t make a habit of carrying his gym kit with him. 

“How about we just grab a drink instead?” He suggested. 

He was hopeful, so fucking hopeful. 

Frank looked at his desk and then back at G. 

“Sure.” 

---

They sat side by side, at the bar, both with a drink before them. It was less awkward than Gerard had imagined, but still, an atmosphere hung between them. 

“You’re looking really good, Frank.” 

It was true, Frank had aged like a fine wine, and the changes in him were undeniable. 

He’d been working out, a lot. Gerard could see the gains through his T-shirt. He’d lost weight, too. His jawline could now cut through steel, it was so sharp. 

He was reminiscent of the old Frank, the one who played professional football and lived his dream. 

If Gerard were a character in a romance novel, his loins would most certainly be burning. 

“Thanks, I feel pretty good.” 

Gerard looked down, into the depths of his cocktail, and geared himself up for the conversation he’d been dreading. 

“Frank I err- I owe you an apology.” 

“For?” 

“You know what for,” Gerard sighed, his outer shell crumbling. 

“I said I’d come back and never did.” 

Frank didn’t make eye contact, not once. He merely stared into his drink, seemingly lost in thought. 

“I had all intentions of coming home, I really did. But trying to balance college and track was hectic. I’d never felt so bunt out in my entire life.” 

Gerard took a breath. 

Frank remained silent. 

“The longer I stayed away, the harder it was to come back. Eventually, it seemed terrifying. As stupid as that sounds.” 

“What were you scared of?” 

Gerard risked a glance at Frank. The older man still sat stationary, staring down into his beverage with heavy, brooding thoughts. 

“Being rejected by you,” Gerard admitted, though he desperately didn’t want to. 

“I thought you’d be mad, I thought.. so many different things.”

The man beside him relaxed his posture, and shifted his hips on the barstool, swivelling round a little, so that their knees knocked together. 

“Gerard, you have nothing to apologise for.” 

His eyes were soft and alluring. 

“You forget, I know what it’s like to be swept up in that chaotic world. I knew, that once you left, you’d be gone.” 

“But, I promised.” 

Frank shook his head, his long hair dancing from side to side. 

“And I took those promises with a huge grain of salt.” 

Gerard hid his disappointment because he did feel it.

Frank hadn’t believed him? 

It felt like a soccer punch to his gut. 

“Don’t take it personally,” Frank consoled. “I had more life experience than you. I had an idea of how things would unfold.” 

Gerard grasped his drink and downed it steadily. 

If his discomfort hadn’t been obvious before, it certainly was now. 

“I’ll have another,” he requested, from the bartender as he passed. 

“Gerard-“ 

“It’s fine.” 

Frank moved back to his original seated position, his shoulders now burdened with grief. 

“I wanted you to come home. Please, believe me when I say that. I just knew you wouldn’t. There’s a difference between wanting and knowing.” 

“So you moved on?” 

Gerard’s words were sharp and painful, and a shock to both himself and his companion. 

He’d never truly explored his own feelings on their separation. And he didn’t fully realise how angry he felt, until that moment. 

“No, not for a long time.” 

They sat in deep silence for a long while, both constructing monologues in their minds, words to describe and explain. 

But neither said a word. 

And in the end, Gerard felt exhausted from the emotional struggle, and he broke. 

“I wish I’d come home.”

“So do I.” 

And just like that, the atmosphere shifted. Their eyes met and they shared a knowing smile. 

And things were easier. 

-

“So, how’s Toro?” 

Five drinks deep, a lot of conversation and probing around each other’s lives, and one topic left to explore. 

Gerard looked down at his ring, eyes a little blurry. 

“He’s fine.” 

Frank cocked an eyebrow but said nothing. 

“And you? Are you dating anyone?” 

It had been the question Gerard had been desperate to ask all night. He needed to know who Frank was fucking, and if it was love. 

“Yeah, I’m seeing someone.” 

“How long?” 

“About a year.” 

“Wow sounds serious. How old is he?” 

It was a low blow and Gerard knew he sounded jealous as hell. But Frank took it lightly and laughed into his drink. 

“Only a couple of years younger than me.” 

“Mmm.” 

Gerard had no come back for that. So instead, he rested his cheek against his palm, elbow against the bar, and ravished Frank, with his eyes. 

“How’d you meet?” 

Frank seemed amused. 

“At the gym. He’s a personal trainer.” 

“So he’s built like a brick shit house?” Gerard teased. 

He was drunk. 

Frank just smiled and gave no answer. 

“I need a smoke, and you need some air.” 

“I need a piss.” 

-

Gerard met him outside. 

The cool night air hit him like a train, and he felt more drunk than ever. 

“Do you live far from here?” Gerard questioned, as he leaned back against a cool, brick wall, for stability. 

Frank took the last drag of his cigarette and tossed it to the ground, ending its life with the heel of his boot. 

“Just around the block, not far.” 

“Fancy a nightcap?” 

Chapter Text

Chapter ten 

You could say, that Frank was a little late to the game. Having finally, in his fifties, found a stable relationship with another human being. And he could see the appeal of it, and the opportunities and contentment he’d missed out on, in his earlier years. 

Being with a partner and sharing his life with someone else, gave Frank a fulfilment he’d never experienced before. 

He wouldn’t call it love because it wasn’t that. But he felt, on numerous occasions, happy. 

Happier than he’d felt in a long, long time. 

And the quality of his life had improved dramatically. He’d pulled himself up from the slum and depravity, and secured himself a comfortable life. 

He now owned an apartment on the respectable side of town, a million miles from his previous abode. And, instead of spending his wages on hookers and beer, he spent it on self improvement. 

He felt anew, invigorated and satisfied. 

Everything was going fucking fantastically...

Until Gerard finally came home. 

--

“How about we just grab a drink instead?”

It was mad, absolute fucking madness. 

It was insanity at its finest. 

There was only one place it would lead. 

And Frank Iero agreed. 

Because although he had found contentment and, on occasion, happiness... 

Gerard was still the one who got away. 

And from the moment, that Frank had known Gerard was coming home, he’d been on pins and fucking needles. 

“Sure.”

---

Frank knew everything about Gerard because he’d kept track over the years. He’d watched every race, enjoyed every victory and cheered G on from the sidelines, through the TV screen. He’d collected newspaper articles, magazine interviews and recorded countless hours of media. 

Gerard was... Frank’s special interest. 

He also knew that Gerard had married Ray Toro, fresh out of college. And that, Toro now owned a large accountancy company. 

The couple were well-off and lived in luxury, wanting for nothing. 

It made Frank more than nauseous. 

And not because of the riches, he cared little for that. 

It was because Toro had won.  

Toro had tied down the man, whom Frank had loved. 

Loved. 

He could admit that to himself. 

Even now, in a stable relationship, Frank could admit that he’d once loved Gerard Way. 

And maybe, still did.  

Perhaps, that was the reason he still built walls around his heart. Maybe, that was the reason he refused to share a home with his partner. 

Because maybe, deep down, he was still holding out for Gerard to come home. 

And then, Gerard did come home. He sat at the bar next to Frank and spilt apologetic words of sorrow, and regret. 

And Frank ate them up with glee because he’d felt famished without Gerard’s attentions.

But, he kept his cool and remained calm. He didn’t let his mask slip, not once. He wouldn’t expose himself, and his true feelings, not yet. 

And as the beer slipped down his throat, the room became somewhat moist and close, like walking through a wall of warm mist. 

Was it the temperature in the bar, or the atmosphere between them? 

Frank couldn’t tell. 

—

“Fancy a nightcap?” 

Who was Frank, to refuse or deny, the company of a beautiful man?

“Sure.” 

Gerard was tipsy, over the limit but not drunk. Frank felt similarly, but knew it was probably the only chance he’d get. 

A blue thrill of electricity ran through him, as he walked the streets with his ex-lover, both with intentions set. 

-

“Wow, this is a nice place.” 

Frank’s apartment looked even better, with Gerard standing inside it. 

“Thanks. It’s definitely an upgrade.” 

He was being polite. It was a hell of an upgrade. Open plan from the moment you walked in, with rooms and space flowing incredibly smoothly. It was posh, for Frank’s standards. Perhaps not as fancy as Gerard’s place, but good enough for him, and his teacher's salary. 

He emptied his pockets onto the hallway console and removed his Adidas jacket. 

They couldn’t have had more opposite styles if they’d tried. Gerard, looking fine and smart, in his white shirt and black suit trousers; Frank in his gym gear and sneakers. 

“I feel overdressed,” Gerard admitted, with a half laugh, as though reading Frank’s mind. 

“I gotta dress up for these school visits, you know? But I’m way more comfortable in my sportswear..” 

Frank nodded along, feet still planted firmly in the same spot, as though his toes had grown roots and made a home. 

“This is so uncomfortable.” 

For a split second, Frank assumed Gerard meant the atmosphere, or the mood. But he soon realised, that Gerard meant his shirt... because he began unfastening the buttons. 

Frank hadn’t seen Gerard like that in so,

Fucking, 

Long. 

The living room was lit by only a small lamp, but even in the dim light, Frank could make out each one of Gerard’s abs, as he made his way towards the entrance, where Frank stood. 

It was inconceivable to resist, so Frank didn’t try. He let the moment happen, allowed Gerard to invade his personal space, allowed his scent to capture Frank’s senses, all over again. 

 “Shirts make me kinda sweaty,” Gerard whispered, his breath tickling Frank’s dry lips. 

Frank took a deep breath, nostrils burning, searching for that scent he so desperately craved. 

He moistened his dry lips and shut his eyes, falling completely under Gerard’s spell. 

They were so close, noses brushing and foreheads meeting. 

And then Gerard took the lead, and stole a kiss from Frank’s lips, hungry and domineering. 

Frank was like a lamb to the slaughter. How could he resist? Gerard had seduced him with that one sentence- 

“Shirts make me kinda sweaty.”

He knew all the right buttons to press, knew every kink and every depraved thought, that Frank had. 

Frank was helpless... 

At least, that was his excuse. 

“Fuck, I missed you.” 

Gerard’s words were lost between kisses, kisses and heavy, heavy petting. 

They tumbled into the hallway console, Gerard’s hips hitting it with painful force. 

Frank broke their kiss midway and brought Gerard’s left hand between them, creating a barrier that neither wanted. 

“Take it off.” 

No explanation was needed, and without breaking their intense eye contact, Gerard removed his wedding ring and set it to one side. 

And then, it was as though they had stepped back in time. It hadn’t been eleven years and they hadn’t been parted. They slipped so easily into old, familiar patterns. 

Gerard was on his knees, with a mouthful of cock, and eyes wide and teary. Frank’s hips barely moved an inch, wanting to savour every flick of tongue against the head of his cock. 

He wanted it slow, he needed it slow. 

He needed to memorise every, fucking, second, of it...

From the way Gerard looked upwards, eyes wide and intense. To the scent of his shirt, which Frank pushed shamelessly to his nostrils. 

He hadn’t forgotten, for one second, how good Gerard was at sucking dick. Frank often fantasised about it. Especially that first time, when Gerard had surprised him. 

But Gerard was full of surprises, and this encounter could be added to the list. 

“C’mere,” Frank cooed. 

He tossed the used shirt to the floor, and cupped G’s cheeks, urging the boy to his feet. He licked and kissed the drool around Gerard’s mouth and across his lips. And they fell into one another, both trying to dominate the narrative. 

But Frank would always win. 

Always. 

And Gerard willingly allowed him. 

“I want you.”

Frank’s eyes fell shut, as those breathless, hoarse words, hit his skin. 

“Fuck me.”

Frank took a second, toying with Gerard’s nipples, aroused by the demand. 

“Please.”

He turned Gerard, forcing down his bottoms, exposing his perfect, petite ass. 

It didn’t take much. 

A mouthful of saliva and a hard thrust forwards. 

Frank was never one for beating around the bush. 

“Oh, fuck.”

He slammed into Gerard, over and over. His breath caught in his throat, as he kissed and bit at his lover's neck, shoulders and any other exposed flesh he could find. 

“Cum inside of me, please. Fuck, please,” Gerard begged. 

And who was Frank to disappoint him? Especially when he had no intention of doing the opposite. 

He felt Gerard tense around his cock, and every hair on his body stood to attention. Frank wanted to get on his knees and lap up Gerard’s mess. But first, he had to find his end. 

“Fuck, that feels so good,” Gerard panted, forehead against the wall. 

Frank groaned into Gerard’s moistened skin. 

“Keep talking to me.”

“God, your cock’s so thick, feels amazing.” 

“You like it?” 

“Fuck yeah.”

“You’re a fucking dirty boy.”

“I’m your dirty boy.” 

Frank finished inside G, his heart pounding and his legs shaking. He pulled out and rested his head against the tops of G’s shoulders. 

A silence filled the space, whilst they both collected their thoughts in the aftermath of their orgasms. 

Frank wondered what Gerard would say, and if he had immediate regrets. 

Frank didn’t. 

Frank would fuck him all over again, if he could. 

But he needn’t have worried. Because Gerard turned in his embrace, and took Frank’s mouth with a confidence and ease, that settled any doubts, that Frank may have had. 

“Can I stay over?” 

Frank’s heart felt a little lighter. 

“Yeah, of course.” 

Chapter Text

Chapter eleven 

Gerard was a bad person, it was something he’d always known. He couldn’t outrun it, even with all the medals he’d collected over the years. 

He had an intelligent, doting, compassionate husband, and Gerard still couldn’t stay faithful. 

Deep down, he knew there was something fundamentally wrong with him. 

Or, perhaps it was that he had all of the emotional security, but none of the sexual gratification, that he desired. 

Maybe it was a mix of both. 

Nevertheless, Gerard couldn’t keep his asshole to himself, or Ray, for that matter. 

Some of his affairs had been kept secret, and some had been exposed. Ray had forgiven him for the ones he knew of, over and over. 

Gerard was a bad person. 

And waking up in Frank’s bed, he felt it in the pit of his stomach. He was a bad person because he didn’t regret one second he’d shared, with the man next to him. It had scratched an itch, that G had been trying to scratch for years. 

And he wanted more. 

He wanted to claw at that itch until his flesh was reddened and sore. He wanted to dig his nails through the skin and draw blood to his hungry lips. 

And so, he rolled over and wrapped his leg around Frank’s waist, pressing his erection into the small of his back. He snuggled into the crook of Frank’s neck and kissed at his dewy flesh, holding himself back from dry humping the man he’d entangled. 

“Mmm, what time is it?”

G broke his kiss. “Early, I think.” 

He placed a hand on Frank’s chest and followed the muscles downwards, pausing at the lower abdomen. 

Gerard, in his confidence, didn’t think about any regrets that Frank might have. Instead, he hopped aboard the lust train and wrapped his fist around Frank’s morning wood. 

They wanted each other, and there wasn’t any room for discussion on the matter. 

“Oh, baby,” Frank groaned, his voice strangled by sleep. 

“Is that good?” 

Frank pressed his face to the pillow and moaned deeply. 

And that’s how the entire weekend continued. They couldn’t keep their hands off one another, sucking and fucking, and ignoring any slight hint at a sensible conversation. 

They should have discussed what was happening, but they didn’t. 

Instead, they enjoyed one another, just as they had many years ago. 

Gerard told Ray that he’d be busy with work all weekend. And Frank feigned a sickness, to keep his lover at bay. 

They were both liars and cheats, but that didn’t trouble either of them. Especially, when they were tangled around one another, enjoying the sins of the human flesh. 

And when it came to say goodbye, Gerard found himself choking on the words. 

“So yeah, I err- I gotta head to the airport soon.” 

They stood in Frank’s kitchen, eyeing each other cautiously. It was Sunday afternoon, and their whirlwind romance had finally concluded. 

“Or you could stay?” 

Gerard bit down on his tongue and held back the words he wanted to say. 

Because he wasn’t sure how he felt about everything that had unfolded between them. 

He felt confused, bewildered and most of all, anxious. 

There were two paths laid ahead of him, and he’d misplaced his map and had no other guidance. 

“I can’t, Frank.” 

The words came out automatically, his brain taking over before his heart could say a word. 

“Please, stay with me.” 

“I can’t.” 

Frank turned his back, his hands curling around the edge of the kitchen worktop, knuckles white with force.  

“Why do you want me to stay?” Gerard challenged. 

“You know why.”

The response came through gritted teeth. 

It spurred Gerard on. 

“No, I don’t. Tell me.” 

Frank’s shoulders hunched over, his head down, his posture demeaned. 

“Because I love you, I’ve always loved you.” 

Gerard’s mind could not compute that information. 

There had been so many times when Gerard had longed for Frank to say those words. But, he had accepted that Frank was incapable of feelings deeper than lust. 

It was something he’d truly believed for a long, long time. 

And there was Frank, standing in his kitchen, confessing his love. A love that had been constant and undying, for him. 

Painful, for him. 

But, Gerard didn’t have the words. 

He didn’t have the answer, that Frank was searching for. 

“I- I have to go. I’m sorry.” 

He left. 

Like a coward, he left. 

And broke his own heart in doing so. 

Because he also had feelings, deep, unchanged feelings, feelings that terrified him. 

He boarded his plane and travelled home, back to the man he’d vowed to love, in sickness and in health. 

But, his life felt lacklustre and colourless. 

Slipping back into his routines, his training, his everyday schedule, did nothing to soothe the ache he felt in the pit of his stomach. 

It was constant. 

Months went by, and Gerard grew more and more disenchanted with his life. 

He longed for Frank. 

He was in love with Frank, and always had been. 

Gerard regretted that he hadn’t asked for Frank’s phone number. His ex wasn’t on social media, and the only form of contact Gerard could think of, was to call the school. 

He attempted it, once. He left a message for Coach Iero- 

“Please, call me back. This is my number-“

Silence. 

Frank had moved on, or so Gerard thought. 

And his packed schedule didn’t allow for him to fly out and meet the man, face to face. 

So, he lived in his misery, in his longing, and tried to forget. 

He focused on his training. He ran harder than he ever had and pushed himself way past the limit of his capabilities. 

He surrounded himself with friends, held lavish dinner parties, and fucked around behind his husband’s back. 

He couldn’t bear for Ray to touch him. 

On the outside, he appeared to be holding it together. Inside, he was a shit show. 

It was at one of his dinner parties, surrounded by friends and wine, and allowing Ray to hold his hand, that the fate of Frank Iero was revealed to him. 

“G, baby, I gotta tell you this gossip.” 

Louise, a friend from school, who had moved out west and lived not far from G, was a major gossip. Her father was the chief of police back home, and would drip-feed her ravenous brain with information. 

“Do you remember that gross football coach we had?” 

Remember? 

Gerard remembered everything. 

“What was his name errr-“

“Iero,” Ray cut in. “He was a fucking cunt.” 

Gerard removed his hand sharply from its entanglement and placed it in his lap. He kept his eyes on his wine glass, fingers wrapped around the stem, gently sloshing the liquid back and forth. 

“Well, guess what? They found him hanging from a noose in his apartment.” 

The bottom of Gerard’s world collapsed. 

“He was there for weeks before anyone found him. My father said the whole scene was vile.”  

Gerard couldn’t think. 

He couldn’t fucking breathe. 

“Weeks? That’s awful. I mean, I had no love for the guy, but no one deserves that kind of death. Why wasn’t he found sooner?” 

The sound of Ray’s shrill voice echoed in Gerard’s ears. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth and his throat tight, helping to suppress a scream, that was clawing dreadfully up his throat. 

“According to my father, he’d lost his job at the school and been through a pretty bad break up. So, I guess no one thought to check on him.” 

“Jeez.” 

“Right? It was the ex that found him, too. Imagine that.” 

“I’d rather not.” 

Gerard managed to lift his eyes from the wine glass and stare into his friend’s electrified ones. 

“You okay, baby? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she asked, with concern. 

“Excuse me.” 

Gerard stood, his legs trembling and his stomach churning. 

“Gerard, are you okay?” Ray questioned.

But Gerard had somehow managed to clamber away from the table, and Ray’s voice was nothing but a faraway whisper, in his mind. 

He reached the bathroom, locked the door, and collapsed beside the toilet, emptying his guts into the basin. He vomited until the acid burnt his throat, and his stomach tensed and resigned. 

He fell to the ground. 

His emotions erupted, and he howled into the floor tiles, pressing his temple against them and sobbing. 

He’d never felt so unhinged, so completely overcome, and so fucking heartbroken. 

His lungs felt suffocated, as though someone had removed the oxygen from around him. And no matter how hard he gasped for air, he couldn’t seem to satisfy them.

It was in that dreadful moment, that Gerard realised what he’d wanted all along... was Frank. 

And now, he could do nothing about it.

He’d never see Frank smile again, or feel the warmth of his body, as they lay in bed. He’d never steal another kiss, never wrap his legs around that strong, firm waist, again. He’d lost those nights in front of the TV, the dinner dates, the football games, and the rest of their lives together. 

He’d lost it all. 

And the mere notion of being separated from Frank, for the rest of his life, made him feel violently ill. 

“Gerard, are you okay in there?” 

Ray’s low voice vibrated through the door, unwanted. 

“Please, leave me alone.” 

It was a plea from the very depths of his heart, or what was left of it. 

“Baby, please, let me in.”

Gerard met his demand with silence and stonewalled him. 

He had nothing to say. His brain felt too damaged for conversation, explanations or even simple sentences. All he knew was pain, regret, and utter, utter heartbreak. 

But, Ray did not relent. 

And eventually, Gerard had to stand and unlock the door and face the consequences. 

“Baby, shit, you scared the fucking life out of me! What’s wrong?” 

Gerard held his worried gaze, and returned it with a hollow stare. 

Dead behind the eyes, that’s how he felt. As though someone had reached inside of his body, scooped out all of the parts that made it work, and left him devoid of feeling and sanity. 

He took a deep breath. 

“Ray, I have to tell you something.”

The end  

The end.