"Hey," he says, grinning as he squeezes down on the same side of the table as Gerard and steals his glass of coke, having finished his own five minutes after he got it. He runs a hand through his hair that's damp with sweat, and seems to have some sort of post-make-out-glow thing going on. "Having fun?"
"Nope," Gerard sighs, putting down his elbow on the table and his head in his hand. "Was that your ex you were making out with? You're not back together, are you? I thought he was an ass," Gerard states, reaching for his coke. It had been a few months since it all went down, but Gerard remembers pretty clearly that Ryan had cheated on Frank a lot and then claimed that they had both agreed on having an open relationship.
"Yeah, that's Ross. And no, we're not back together. He's still going out with the skank he was sleeping around with. He was actually telling me before about how amazing Brendon was just because he agreed to be in an open relationship." Frank rolls his eyes and mirrors Gerard's position. "And, just so you know, we weren't making out. Just kissing," he adds defensively.
"Yeah, because you're arms totally weren't all over each other and you're not gonna have a hickey tomorrow?" Gerard says, smirking as a blush appears on Frank's cheeks. "I could see your tongues... wrestling," he spits out, "from across the room."
"We were kissing! French kissing," the younger boy insists. "He's very good at it, despite being a jerk and not so good in the sack." Frank laughs, and then pries Gerard's glass out of his hands again to have another sip. "Why were you looking, anyway?" He looks up curiously and Gerard shrugs.
"Because looking at you making out with that jerk is still much better than looking at Bob swallowing my baby brother's face whole," Gerard groans, throwing a quick glance back to where Mikey and Bob are still very busy.
"Oh god," Frank croaks out, laughing so hard he cries. "They are embarrassing. And honestly? It looks as if Bob is about to snap Mikey in half, like a twig." Frank giggles and Gerard can't help but start too, the image in his head too hilarious.
"You know, after almost six months I still don't see why they are together, and how it happened." Gerard shakes his head.
"Well, we know that Bob ran into Mikey and knocked him over so that his notes fell into a puddle of water and then Bob felt really guilty so he bought Mikey coffee, right?" Frank says, looking thoughtfully over to where the couple in question has finally separated their mouths. "And two days later they were attached at the hip?"
Gerard nods. "I think that either one of them drugged the other, or Cupid had partied the night before and gotten so drunk he couldn't shoot straight. I mean, have you ever met two people with less things in common?"
"That are dating?" Frank asks, raising one of his perfectly shaped eyebrow that Gerard thinks has definitely been sexified. "Nope."
Gerard just nods at that, and they're left in silence. It's rather nice, though, because the music is so loud that they can't talk normally anyway, and shouting always feels much more awkward when you aren't drunk. If only the music had been better, this night could have been almost enjoyable.
"I'm bored," Frank moans after what feels like forever. "I think I'm gonna go find Ryan again. I wanna make out with someone." Frank drinks what's left of Gerard's coke and gets up, straightening out his clothes and hair.
"Okay," Gerard sighs, trying to hide how miserable he feels over being left alone again. "I think I'm going to go home in a while. You want a ride?"
"Yeah sure. Just text me if I'm not here." Frank smiles and disappears into the mass of people on the floor. Even if he's still there, on the dance floor with the little jerk, Gerard can't see him. But he can see Mikey and Bob, carrying new drinks in their hands and heading over to his table.
He spends around thirty minutes talking to them while staring down at his hands to avoid seeing them kissing, touching and groping. It's not a very rewarding conversation since he is doing most of the talking, and it gets quite uncomfortable to sit with his neck bent down, so he excuses himself and sends Frank a text message. He gets one back almost right away, saying that Frank is just outside, having a smoke with Ryan.
What he failed to mention was that 'having a smoke with Ryan' means sharing the smoke by inhaling and exhaling through each other's mouths. Gerard finds them doing just that, and has to stand there, awkwardly watching them until Frank realizes he was supposed to meet Gerard and breaks away.
"Hey, Gee," he mutters, face flushed in a bright red color. Ryan looks from Frank to Gerard and back, a bewildered but sort of proud look on his face. Gerard assumes that Ryan must think that he is Frank's boyfriend who just caught Frank with Ryan, and although that is terribly wrong, Gerard can't be bothered to correct the silent mistake.
The long, awkward moment eventually ends with Frank muttering, "Bye, Ryan," grabbing Gerard's arm and walking away very quickly.
Ryan calls out, "Call me!" after them and Frank groans, but doesn't say anything.
Gerard keeps quiet until they get to the car and are out of sight for Ryan, but then he really can't keep it in anymore. "You're gonna call him?" he asks innocently, knowing very well that Frank won't call him, considering their past and Frank's reaction to it earlier, but he has to ask him just because it's fun to see Frank get worked up.
"No, I'm not gonna call him." He rolls his eyes and climbs into the car as Gerard does the same.
Gerard waits until they're on the road until he asks, "Are you sure you're not gonna get back together?" because he knows that it will annoy Frank more.
"Yes, I'm fucking sure," he spits out, teeth gritted and eyes darker than Gerard can remember ever seeing them.
"Do you think he knows that you're not getting back together?" Gerard smiles innocently when Frank looks at him, seemingly ready to kill him, but then he just laughs.
"I don't give a fuck. If he thinks I used him because I wanted to kiss someone, he deserves it because he fucked me over first." Frank smiles proudly.
"But why did you insist on making out with him? I don't get it. He's a slimy git who cheated on you, and you make out with him as if he doesn't mean anything to you." Gerard takes his hands off the wheel for a moment to demonstrate his confusion.
"Well, not all making out is because you want to date the guy, or girl. Like I said before, I wanted to make out with someone and Ryan is a good kisser, so I thought, 'What the hell', and went for it. It doesn't mean that I don't think he's an ass, or that I'm gonna go out with him or sleep with him, or do anything besides mindless making out with him," Frank explains, and Gerard nods, really trying to understand.
"But I'll admit that it was annoying when Ryan couldn't keep his hands off of me for more than five seconds." Frank shudders.
"Yeah," the older boy agrees, both hands firmly on the wheel and eyes on the road. "Do you want to watch a movie at my place or something?" He asks as they get closer to Frank's house.
"Sure. I was actually wondering if I could stay over so that I won't have to get up earlier than necessary to get over to your place tomorrow?" Frank makes his best 'adorable puppy that needs a home' imitation and Gerard laughs.
"Yeah, why not?"
The next day, they don't get started as early as Gerard would have liked.
They were both rather exhausted after having stayed up too late, watching movies and talking, so not even Gerard is as easily awoken as he would have liked, and Frank proves to be a real nightmare. It's around 10:30 when Gerard manages to pull himself together and starts working on getting Frank up, but it's more like 11:30 when he finally succeeds.
It's after trying to just poke him, hard, and yelling in his ear (both just resulting in Frank muttering incoherent shit and rolling over, away from Gerard) that he tries the 'sitting on top of Frank until he chokes and gives up' strategy from the previous day, but not even that works as well as he would like. Thankfully, he realizes after that, Frank is lying on the edge of the bed, and it doesn't take long for Gerard to push him over it.
"Ow! What the fuck do you think you're doing? I was trying to sleep!" Frank groans loudly, sitting up as he rubs his elbows and the back of his head. Gerard just grins down at him, proud of his triumph. Frank stays down for a minute, pouting and still rubbing his head, before finally standing up. "What time is it?" He yawns, face all scrunched up.
"Almost 11:30, I think. I've been trying to get you up for an hour, you know?" Gerard sighs and gets up off the bed to get dressed.
"Yeah, I've been trying my hardest to ignore you. It was kind of impossible to ignore being shoved on to the floor, though." Frank whines, and Gerard laughs as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.
"Well, what did you expect? I didn't let you sleep here so you could sleep in in my bed. I wanted to get started on the painting early, and that's why you're here." He makes the bed a little haphazardly, more or less just throwing the blankets and covers in a heap on top of it, like he always does.
"I knew it, " Frank sighs dramatically. "You only want me for my body."
"Of course I do." Gerard rolls his eyes before looking up at the younger boy who's still just standing awkwardly by the bed wearing nothing but a pair of tight, dark boxer briefs. The bird tattoos, two swallows, on his lower stomach immediately catches Gerard's gaze, and he makes a mental note to remember that he needs to pay extra attention to them when he paints.
"I'm gonna have a shower, if that's okay," Frank says, disappearing before Gerard has had a chance to consider it and respond.
"Just don't take too long!" he calls after him, shaking his head, yet smiling at how much of a teenager Frank really is. Completely undisciplined and so annoying he's bordering on being obnoxious sometimes, but still lovable and fucking awesome. "Oh, and don't fall asleep!" he adds a moment later, knowing that you can never be too safe with Frank.
"I hate you, Gee!" With that, Gerard hears the bathroom door close, and he leaves his bedroom to go to the kitchen and make coffee. He digs out some bread from the freezer to make toast, and sits down with the newspaper by the table while he waits for it to get ready.
He's not sure why he's even got a newspaper subscription, besides his mom claiming that he needs to stay updated about what happens in the world and, more importantly, in the town he lives in. Not that he usually reads more than what's on TV and the latest movie and video game reviews. The financial crisis and missing children and whatever is going on in the world just isn't something he likes to spend time reading about.
Frank emerges from the bathroom just twenty minutes later, dripping wet and wearing nothing but a very small towel hanging very low on his hips. Gerard just looks up from his half-full coffee mug, lets his eyes flash over the glistening wet birds on Frank's stomach, and sighs.
"You could have dried off and put on clothes, you know. I don't think it's very sanitary to be naked in a kitchen." He looks up at Frank and drinks some coffee before lowering his eyes again. "Or as close to naked as you can get."
At this, Frank grins, and as he turns around to get some orange juice from the fridge, he shakes his ass so that the towel slips even further down. "Well, I figured that would be a waste of time since I'll be undressing shortly anyway. And I like the concept of air-drying."
"Ah yeah, that fresh breeze tickling your balls is to die for." Gerard laughs as Frank grabs some toast and sits down opposite of Gerard.
"That's exactly what I'm talking about!" Frank agrees with a wide grin. "It's like, I love the tight jeans trend just as much as anybody these days, but wouldn't it be awesome if we could all wear togas instead? Or something else that's very airy and free. Like a kilt." He nibbles his piece of toast with a thoughtful expression on his face.
"Maybe you should become a professional nude model?" Gerard suggests, folding up the newspaper and putting it aside. "Or start cross-dressing so you can wear skirts and dresses. Or a rapper so that you can have your jeans hanging below your ass."
"I think that would be cold. And I'd trip on the pants. I'm short, you know," Frank objects.
"Well, you would have underwear. And lots of huge, baggy hoodies. And a crew."
"What does the crew got to do with my ass being cold?" Frank frowns.
"Nothing, I'm just saying that your ass wouldn't be cold. And that you can always tuck your pants into your socks and make yourself a fashion disaster." Gerard grins and stands up to get himself more coffee.
"Ugh, I'd rather stick to wearing tight jeans that I don't have to trip on, even if they make my balls feel claustrophobic." Gerard hears Frank shudder and chuckles to himself. Only Frank would go to the lengths of claiming that his testicles are claustrophobic, yet continue to wear such tight clothes. He probably thinks of it as cognitive behavioral therapy to get rid of the phobia, Gerard thinks.
"Gee, while you're at it, would you mind getting me some coffee too?" Frank asks and, by the sound of it, he's got his mouth full of toast and possibly orange juice while he's flipping through the pages of the paper, trying to find the comic section.
"As long as we get started on the painting today, yes," Gerard sighs exasperatedly as he pours himself his second cup of the day, hoping he won't need too many of them to keep up with Frank's very short attention span.
"Of course," says Frank, grinning like a kid who just got a really expensive birthday present. "You know I can't wait to show off my balls for you."
It's going to be a long day, Gerard thinks, handing the half-naked teenage boy, sitting by his kitchen table, the coffee.
*
It's half an hour later when Gerard has finally got Frank situated in front of the mirror, that he realizes that the position he had decided on the day before doesn't really work, because Frank is either blocking the mirror or not showing the side of his body that isn't reflected. So he has to rethink the whole scene and try to direct the way Frank is standing, which is a lot more awkward now that the younger boy is naked and Gerard can't help but find his eyes drawing to the birds on Frank's stomach and then dropping lower.
"Could you," Gerard says, pacing back and forth and trying to figure out which angle to look from so that Frank is not blocking the mirror, "try turning away from the mirror?" He moves forward and grabs Frank's bare shoulders to pull him in the right direction and, although he tries to focus on how the reflection looks, he can't help but notice the goosebumps spreading over Frank's warm skin. And the way the younger boy's ass looks in the mirror.
Backing away again, he shakes the thoughts from his head, instead concentrating on how he can make all of Frank appear in one angle. But, no matter how much he thinks, this is probably going to be the best pose he can find. "You know, I think this is going to be pretty good. If I just aim another light on your front, so that I get the bird tattoos and the flame on your chest, it's going to look great."
"Sounds great to me," Frank replies, and Gerard smiles confidently. He can definitely pull this off, he thinks, as long as Frank cooperates and isn't too much of a distraction. Gerard has never really imagined Frank being distracting when he first considered asking him to model for him, but he can't deny that the teenager is attractive, and unfortunately not shy enough to not show himself more than Gerard asked of him.
"Okay, I'll be right back." He leaves Frank to go and get the equipment he has borrowed from his school. He has lots of lights and screens to reflect the light and even background screens, but he decides to only use the two biggest lights, and possibly one of the reflecting screens, knowing how much power the lights need, and he doesn't need another background.
He sets up one of the lights by the windows, not too close to make it seem as natural as possible, like real daylight, and the one that's a little smaller aimed just under Frank's chest so that the light is focused on his tattoos. "This will leave your face sort of shadowed and a little more anonymous, but I think it will look good," Gerard explains as he dims the lights until he's satisfied, and Frank nods.
"Now I just have to adjust your pose a little further, and then I think we're good to go."
"Awesome," Frank laughs, as Gerard ponders over what to do with Frank's legs as he really can't just stand there, straight with his arms hanging by his side. No, he needs to do something about it, to fix Frank's posture, amongst other things. Apparently, if a model is too relaxed and has nothing to do, they slouch, and that never looks good. Especially in nude paintings.
"Okay, this could turn out really weird," Gerard starts, "but if you had something to put your foot up on, like a chair, and you could have one of your hands on the back." He nods to himself and, without waiting for Frank's agreement, he disappears in to the kitchen to get a chair. He's back within seconds and puts the chair just in front of Frank, back against the wall, and pulls Frank's left hand onto the back and places his right foot just on the edge of it.
"But now you can't see my beautiful cock, Gerard," Frank whines, pouting at the older boy.
Gerard just laughs. "Exactly. Now my professor won't have a heart attack because she lays eyes on a dick for the first time in a hundred years. I mean, I'm sorry to disappoint you, Frank, but I don't think I can get my degree if I kill a teacher. Even if she's like, seventy years old and ready to go." At this, Frank's pout fades and he laughs along with Gerard.
"Fine, but then I expect you to make it up to me by painting me again, after you have your goddamn Art degree," Frank says stubbornly.
"Naked and with your dick visible?" Gerard asks, wondering to himself if he can even do the two paintings where Frank's cock is going to be hidden by his thigh. Making a third one, in another pose, would be hell.
"Yes. A close-up would be nice, too, but whatever you want to do will be fine. You're the artist," Frank grins and holds out his right hand to Gerard. "Deal?"
Gerard thinks about it for another few seconds before deciding that it's kind of pointless to argue with Frank because the kid has got some mad persuasion skills. Besides, if it really is so that Gerard likes seeing Frank naked, why would he say no to more opportunities of painting Frank naked? As long as Frank doesn't see him get hard while they work, he should be fine, and he is old enough to control himself now.
"Deal."
They are both eager to get started on the actual painting now that they've sorted out the boring stuff, but Gerard still has to put markings wherever Frank's feet and hands are, and he also takes a few photos just to make sure they can definitely redo the pose the next time they work on it. With the exception of weekends, they're not going to be able to work a lot every day, since both he and Frank have finals to study for, so there's going to be a lot of short sittings. Gerard knows that it's best to avoid it, but with so little time he can't really afford to only work on weekends when Frank can sit for several hours in one go instead of an hour a day.
"Please tell me you're gonna start painting now," Frank exclaims when Gerard finally puts the camera down on the coffee table behind himself. "I'm already getting tired of standing here, y'know."
"Well, I'm gonna start sketching it up now, so that I have some lines to go after when I start painting," he calls over his shoulder when he leaves the room to go and get the canvas from the tiny guest bedroom that's actually missing a bed and is therefore used as an art supply room. It's not big enough to be considered a studio, or anything, but there's a desk for all of the paints, pencils and brushes, and cupboards to keep his canvases in.
After bringing in the canvas, he goes back to the room to get all the paints and brushes he might also need as to not have to go and get them later once he's already started. Once he's finally ready to start sketching, Frank is slouching and leaning against the chair in a bored manner, looking as if he's half asleep already.
"If you could straighten up just a little, that would be awesome," Gerard laughs from behind his easel, to which Frank replies with a glare, before standing up like he's supposed to, letting Gerard get on with his work.
Gerard does so, feeling both relieved and happy that he's now working on his final and most important project of this year. He's glad that he's working on it at all, considering the insane amount of procrastination that was involved in it. He could have, and probably should have, started on it several months ago, but back then there was no real inspiration. And, if there had been inspiration, there sure as hell was no courage to ask Frank to model for him.
As his eyes now move along the smooth lines of Frank's light skin, the pencil gently traces it on the canvas, the motion being so exact it almost feels as if he's gliding his fingertips just over his back, feeling the round contours and the welcoming body heat. He can feel the younger boy's eyes on his face and tries his hardest not to let his cheeks flush red or Frank might come with some witty remark about him blushing like Leonardo DiCaprio did in Titanic.
He's not sure that he's entirely successful, but at least Frank hasn't said anything ten minutes later when Gerard is ready to move on with paints and brushes. He mixes the colors in the palette, starting with the light blue of the wall next to the mirror and works his way over the background of the painting. He probably should start with Frank, but he still feels Frank's eyes upon him and he doesn't really want to acknowledge that he's there because it would make him lose his focus and he'd end up turning the color of a tomato.
So he moves on with the rest of the wall, then turns to the parts of the window he can see, both directly and in the mirror, so he mixes greens and pinks for the plants, and then a light, creamy yellow for the curtains his mother insisted on him having, even if he hated them himself.
Like this, almost three hours pass, and he's surprised when he realizes how hungry he is, but even more so when he realizes him and Frank haven't spoken a word to each other since he started on the painting. Frank is just standing there, eyes following his every move, wearing an expression that's unfamiliar to Gerard. He seems to snap out of it almost as soon as Gerard looks up at him, though.
"Are you hungry? We should take a break and order pizza or something," the older boy says, eyes locked awkwardly with Frank's as he's still frozen in his spot behind the easel.
"Uh, yeah," Frank nods, and moves out of his pose really quickly as if he just realized he could let go. "I'm gonna get dressed," he adds and leaves the lounge and Gerard picks up his phone to call for pizza. He still feels weird when he hangs up after being told the pizza will be there in twenty minutes, but as soon as Frank comes back, with clothes on, the awkwardness is blown out the window.
"So, how does it look? You better be making me look good, or I'll trick Bob into beating you up," Frank says, giving him a serious look, but it only lasts for a moment because he's cracking up.
Gerard just looks at him, confused. "How do you trick Bob into beating someone up?"
"You tell him that someone did something to hurt Mikey and then he goes into some kind of robotic overprotective boyfriend mode. He's like a killer machine." Frank nods to himself as he speaks, before looking up at Gerard again. "I guess it's not very healthy for them, but it definitely comes in handy when you need somebody taken care of."
The older boy looks at Frank as if he's crazy before speaking, "You've done that before? Sent Bob after someone who was troubling you?"
"No," Frank says, looking almost sad, "But he practically volunteered to go after Ryan when we broke up, and we barely even knew one another back then. I guess Mikey must have been even more pissed than he let on. Or something." Frank seems to be just pondering to himself again, which Gerard thinks is kind of amusing to hear. "Maybe Bob just really hates guys who cheat?" Frank suddenly looks up and aims the question towards a surprised Gerard.
"Yeah, I suppose," he says, shrugging, and then Frank starts again.
"But who would be stupid enough to cheat on Bob? He's like, ninety percent muscle, ten percent beard. You don't mess with that," Frank reasons, now coming over to sit next to Gerard on the coffee table.
"That's true," Gerard nods, and with that, they leave the discussion of Bob Bryar, killer machine and Mikey's boyfriend.
"Hey, you haven't even started painting me yet!" Frank exclaims in an accusing tone when he sees the painting. "What the fuck am I standing there for if you're only doing background?" He turns to Gerard and gives him his best sad puppy dog eyes, which Gerard thinks look more like a little kid who's about to throw a tantrum if they're not given the latest stupid, but fashionable and very expensive toy.
"Well," he begins, "You're needed because you create shadows. It would look fucked up if you weren't there when I did background, you know. You need to have a shadow, or someone will think you're some kind of evil creature and they'll burn you at the stake." Gerard looks deep into Frank's eyes with some serious conviction in his own while he says this, and for once it's Frank who's all baffled and shocked.
"Oh," is all he says, and looks back at the painting. "They're nice shadows, I think."
"Yeah, definitely," Gerard agrees with a grin, and they sit there and talk while they wait for their much needed food to arrive so that Gerard can keep working on Frank's oh so important and beautiful shadows.
***
The rest of the weekend is pretty much the same. Frank doesn't stay over any more nights (thank God!), but Gerard gets to paint at least two more hours that day, and then between four and five hours the next day too. The next few days they, as Gerard had predicted, only get about an hour a day, but as Gerard has by then started on Frank's body, an hour is more than enough for him.
He had really never imagined that Frank would be so... attractive. He had thought Frank looked good before, with clothes on, but that really is nothing compared to the seemingly magnetic pull he's feeling now. Once his eyes meet Frank's pale olive hued skin and the brush touches the paint and the canvas, Gerard's stuck and even when his eyes are drooping and Frank looks as if he's about to fall asleep, he doesn't want to stop.
He feels like he's being awfully obvious about his feelings, but he's hoping that Frank hasn't realized anything, and maybe he is lucky, because Frank hasn't said anything about it.
It's on Wednesday, after Frank has hugged Gerard and said Goodnight and Goodbye, after Gerard has finished all of Frank's right leg, that he really cannot help himself anymore. He's exhausted after working so hard all week and not sleeping well because everything he dreams about is Frank, and so he stumbles into his bedroom, onto the bed. He's so tired, but he reaches out to close the blinds, and he reaches out to shut the light off, and he crawls out of his clothes and in under the comforter.
And the image is still implanted in his brain, as clearly as if he was still standing behind his easel, painting. He can see the curve of the younger boy's ass and thigh when he closes his eyes, and he can still remember what it felt like to touch his warm skin, what it felt like to make goosebumps appear all over his bare arms.
It isn't a conscious decision when he starts touching himself, still with the perfect image of Frank in his head, now improved by his own fantasies, so that Frank is touching himself too, and then they are kissing in Gerard's head, and he is so turned on. He can hear Frank's voice in his head, there's a soft whine to it as it moans his name, and now it's Frank's hand that's touching him, bringing him closer. His own hands are on Frank's thighs and ass and he can almost, almost really, feel the pressure of the younger boy's lips on his neck.
Дата добавления: 2015-11-04; просмотров: 22 | Нарушение авторских прав
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